Trial by Fire (27 page)

“Was there a loose dress in that bundle from your sister?” Rowan asked Lily without looking her in the eye. She nodded. “Put it on. And don’t wear anything binding under it.”

Lily stood up and stormed down the hallway to the bathroom where she’d left the bundle of clothes. She didn’t even consider arguing. This was Rowan’s show, and she was just going to play her part until she’d learned enough to get home. Lily stripped naked, slid into what looked like a white silk slip, and joined Rowan back in the main room. He, Caleb, and Tristan were at the far end of the apartment, clearing a large space in front of the fireplace.

Tristan had changed into loose white pants like Rowan, and the two of them had taken off their shirts. Their willstones pulsed on their bare chests. Lily’s willstones flared brightly in response, startling her. Rowan, Tristan, and Caleb saw the flash and looked at Lily briefly before returning to their tasks. Lily could feel static in the air. She glanced down and saw the hairs on her arms rising. The ritual was already beginning.

“Do you have enough wood stored?” Caleb asked Rowan.

“On the roof,” Rowan replied while he moved a white sofa out of the way. “We’re going to start small, anyway. Big magic is something she can do intuitively. It’s small magic she has trouble with—it took her forever to figure out how to mindspeak. Just like Lillian.”

Tristan rolled up the carpet, exposing the wood floor. “What were you thinking of starting with?” he asked.

“A water purification spell. We can send it as a gift to the sachem.”

Rowan opened a door next to the fireplace and took out a large cast-iron cauldron, which he hung on a hook that swung into and out of the fireplace. Tristan shook out a black silk sheet and laid it on the floor in front of the fire.

“Sit,” he instructed, leading Lily to the center of the silk sheet. He positioned her with her back to the fireplace.

“Is there anything I can do to help set up?” she asked. All three of the guys paused momentarily to exchange looks.

“I’ll be right back with the wood,” Caleb said.

“And the bucket of stale rainwater next to the pile, if you can?” Rowan called after him as Caleb left.

Lily waited, feeling a bit stupid just sitting there while Rowan and Tristan scurried around. Tristan laid out a collection of silver knives and a marble mortar and pestle in front of Lily.

Caleb returned with the wood and water. Rowan emptied the bucket of fetid, brownish water into the cauldron and started a fire. Lily could feel something in her switch on, like a factory coming to life.

Rowan knelt in front of Lily with a collection of herbs, flowers, and crumbly stones. He picked up one of the silver knives and after calling each herb by name, cut pieces of them and put them in the mortar. He picked up another knife, and after naming each element in what Lily now recognized as part of the ritual, he scraped different amounts of each into the mortar. He ground it all together, stopping every now and again to check the consistency. Then he held the concoction out to Lily.

“Let your thoughts be pure. Let your will remove all taint,” he said, his voice low. “Breathe on it.”

Lily leaned forward, feeling the touch of Rowan’s mind guiding hers, and blew. Her willstones flared, the small golden one shining brightest, and for a moment, she saw the chemical compound that they had created. She also saw how the energy she had imparted on the mixture with her breath would strengthen it and make it multiply. Rowan’s eyes closed briefly, and then he handed the mortar to Tristan.

Using a fresh sliver knife, Tristan scraped the mixture into the cauldron and swung it over the fire. Lily could smell the change immediately. The rainwater went from spoiled to clean in moments.

She felt unbelievably tired.

Lily was aware of time passing, of Tristan and Caleb pulling the cauldron off the fire and testing drops of its water on rectangles of paper. She felt Rowan take her shoulders and lower her to her side. He kept his hand on her back, rubbing it gently while he and Caleb discussed where portions of the purifying water were most needed. A part of Lily was aware of the fact that she should be furious with Rowan for making her think that he cared about her when he was simply harnessing her power, but she was simply too comfortable to start another fight with him. The fire, his soothing hand on her back, and the spent contentedness in her muscles kept her from storming away from him. She was suddenly aware of Caleb’s big white grin hovering over her eyes.

“Good work, witch,” he said, smiling widely at her. She smiled back, but by the time she got around to it, he’d already turned away. There were footsteps, a door closing, and Lily felt herself being lifted off the ground. The change of position roused her from her torpor.

“How much dirty water can that one cauldron of potion clean?” she asked.

“Every batch is different, depending on the witch,” Rowan said. She could feel his voice rumbling in his chest. He was carrying her down the hallway to his bedroom. “We think your ratio is about one to ten thousand.” He sounded proud.

“Ten thousand of those huge cauldrons of water made clean by only one?” she mumbled as he tucked her into his bed. There was some reason she wasn’t supposed to be sleeping in his bed, but she couldn’t remember what it was. “That’s not small magic, Rowan. Clean water is important. It can save lives.”

He nodded at her, and his words slid into her head.
Lillian called it kitchen magic. It’s taxing, and she resented how much energy it took from her when any novice crucible could be paid to do it—if only on a much smaller scale than she could.

Lillian is an idiot.

Sleep.

Lily sat up in Rowan’s bed, miffed. She felt like every time she used magic, she woke up twelve hours later wondering what bus had hit her. There had to be a way to do magic and remain conscious—and out of Rowan’s arms.

She made his bed and thought about how he had treated her last night. Like he cared about her. It was misleading of him to rub her back, tuck her in, and still think she was evil. Or maybe he was only nice to her because he needed her to do magic. The thought made Lily go still for a moment. She set aside the small, chilled feeling that settled in her heart and got dressed. Whatever Rowan thought of her, she’d still done something good. Her magic had given people clean water.

She washed her face in the bathroom and thought about the water purification ritual. She knew what herbs they’d used—bay, rosemary, thyme, hyssop—and which elements—carbon, chalk, sand, and silver. Lily knew enough chemistry to know that none of these things would really treat dirty water and make it drinkable. She could
see
the change she’d made in the chemicals, though. She hadn’t created any new elements. She’d only recombined them. It had to be some sort of science, she figured, just not one she’d had ever encountered before.

Lily went out to the main room to find Tristan, Caleb, and Rowan sitting around the kitchen table, the remains of a big breakfast spread out before them. Rowan’s shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and his hair was pushed up funny in the back, as if he’d been rumpling it with his fingers. Lily looked away quickly when he noticed her watching him.

Caleb lifted his mug to salute. “There she is!” He grinned at her, and Lily found herself grinning back. Caleb looked big and scary when he just sat there, but when he smiled he looked like a giant teddy bear. If teddy bears had muscles like sacs of coconuts, that is. “The sachem thanks you for your donation to the rebel front and would like to encourage you to—wait, what did he say?” He looked at Tristan, who shrugged. “Something fancy about doing well.”

“I take it Alaric’s okay with me learning to be a witch?” she asked. Lily went into the kitchen and poured herself some tea.

“I made pancake batter for you. You hungry?” Rowan asked, standing. Lily nodded and took a seat on top of the island in the kitchen while Rowan crossed to the stove. She could tell he was trying to change the subject.

“The sachem is very happy you’re learning to be a witch. Especially if you keep the water purifier coming,” Caleb said. “Even better? We could really use some of those tabs that rid the body of infection. There’s a fever going around.”

“It’s bad,” Tristan added, looking at Rowan. Lily saw Rowan’s brow pinch with worry before Caleb continued.

“And he wants you to know that he understands that you need to go home, and in exchange for your help, he’s trying to locate the shaman for you. I’ll let you know when we find him.”

“Thanks. Why do I need the shaman?” Lily asked over the edge of her mug of tea. Rowan poured four dollops of batter into a skillet and sprinkled blueberries in them. “I love blueberries,” she whispered. He smiled to himself—he already knew as much—and picked up a spatula.

“Rowan and I are Coven trained. And so is Caleb—well, a bit,” Tristan said, waving a hand to include Caleb and Rowan. “None of us have any idea how to spirit walk. Maybe two people in the whole world do, actually. You have to see a shaman for that, and there’s only one full shaman left.”

“What is spirit walking?” Lily asked. “I’ve heard you all talking about it, but I don’t think I understand it yet.”

“It’s where you separate your body and spirit and send your spirit elsewhere,” Rowan replied. “Even other universes.”

“Is it like astral projection?” Lily guessed. No one understood what she was asking. “No one knows how to spirit walk except for the shaman? Aren’t there more than one?”

“No,” Caleb said. “There’s a kid out on a vision quest on the Ocean of Grass who’s trying to become a shaman, but right now we only have the one. We need to find him before we can get you going.”

Rowan flipped a pancake. “So you can find your home world, Lily,” he said. “Right, Tristan? That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it? So she can go home?”

Everyone was quiet. Tristan and Caleb didn’t move muscle as they watched Rowan cook for Lily, and she got the sense that they were all sharing mindspeak. From what she could gather from their flashing eyes and tight mouths, the three of them seemed to be arguing intensely.

“Why does Lillian hunt scientists?” Lily asked. Her voice sounded uncomfortably bright in the quiet room.

“Because she believes they’re going to destroy the world,” Rowan replied, not looking up from his task. “She says science is corrupt.”

“But that man. The one the soldiers killed in the woods,” she said haltingly. “You said he was a teacher. Why lump him in with the scientists?”

“Because she’s a power-hungry bitch who wants to rule the world with an iron fist?” Tristan offered. “A bitch we need to overthrow,” he added, dart-like, at Rowan’s back.

“That’s an oversimplification, Tristan,” Rowan countered calmly. He took the pancakes off the skillet and put them on a plate. “Lillian is killing teachers because most teachers teach their students critical thinking. And doctors, her other target, have to use the scientific method to diagnose and heal their patients. Both of these things promote free inquiry and, ultimately, science. Which she thinks is the devil. Do you want maple syrup?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lily said, taking her plate and the fork Rowan handed to her. There was so much going on in the room, so many hidden conversations that she could almost hear, but not quite, that she was getting dizzy. “But why does she think that? I’ve been noticing that magic is kind of like science. No—it
is
science. It’s just a different way of manipulating the natural world. We use machines; you use magic.”

“Magic is a science only people who are born with a particular talent can do,” Rowan said. He poured maple syrup on Lily’s pancakes. “Actual science can be done by anyone. Repeated by anyone. And there’s no way for Lillian to control what people do with it or how far it spreads.”

Caleb guffawed. “Like Tristan said. She’s a power-hungry bitch who wants to rule the world with an iron fist.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “She’s much more than that.”

Lily wondered why Rowan would defend Lillian if he wouldn’t defend her. Her throat stung. She didn’t much feel like eating his pancakes and left them on the counter.

Juliet helped Lillian dress. The bodice hung loosely around her sister’s wasted frame.

“We’ll have to take this in. I’ve pulled the laces as tight as they’ll go,” Juliet said, with a hint of scolding in her tone.

“No. We’ll have my tailor add padding,” Lillian replied.

“Or you could eat more.” Juliet waited, but her sister didn’t comment. After a long pause, she continued. “I understand why you wouldn’t want Gideon to touch you, but have you thought about what I suggested? About claiming another mechanic to help heal you? You’ve kept whatever this sickness is at bay for nearly a year now, but obviously you can’t do it on your own anymore.”

Lillian pulled away from Juliet’s fussing and sat down at her makeup table. “I don’t want another mechanic.”

Juliet watched her sister dab blush on her bleached cheeks. She’d long suspected that the only reason Lillian allowed her and
only
her to touch her was because, as a latent crucible with almost no magic, Juliet was the only person close to Lillian who wouldn’t be able to tell exactly how sick she was.

“People know you’re sick now,” Juliet said.

“I know they do.”

“Then why not claim a mechanic—a good one—who can help heal you?”

As usual, Juliet got no answer. She tried for what must have been the thousandth time to reach out and share mindspeak with her sister. Again, she hit up against a wall around Lillian’s mind.

Lillian sighed. “My sickness isn’t the only thing I’m keeping to myself, Juliet. Please understand. I shut you out because I’m trying to protect you.”

It was the same answer Lillian had been giving her since she came back from her mysterious disappearance, and Juliet knew she would get no more out of her. She glossed and smoothed her sister’s curls in silence before helping her down to the main hall to hear the newest prisoner—a doctor.