Trial by Fire (Worldwalker 1)

* * *

Lily came to and saw a glimmer of magelight. She lifted her head—her neck complaining of a vicious kink—and quickly glanced around.

She was in a small room, no more than two paces in any direction. Three walls were solid stone and the fourth, all bars. There was a raised pallet with a thin mattress for her to sleep on behind her, but Lily awoke to find herself on the floor. She recalled being placed on the bed, but she must have rolled out of it when the vertigo became too much to bear. In one corner was a bucket; in the other a bottle of water. Lily memorized the placement of everything in her cell because she knew she would be given little chance to see it again.

Beyond the bars was an alcove, and then a hallway. Lily saw other cells surrounding the alcove, but they were empty. The shaman’s cell must be directly next to hers, out of her line of sight.

The magelight came from the hallway. At the foot of the hallway was a small desk. Lily crawled closer to the bars of her cell and peered at the source of light. A figure was bent over the desk. The middle drawer was open, and the man was looking inside it with a rapt expression. She couldn’t see what was in the drawer, but she could feel his eyes on its contents.

A shiver of fear went through her. It was Carrick, staring at her willstones.

“Please don’t,” Lily begged softly. “Please don’t touch them, Carrick.”

He startled and straightened, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Then he relaxed, as if he remembered that he was the one in charge. He brightened his magelight until he could see Lily clearly, and she could see him. His hawkish face held traces of Rowan, but the resemblance wasn’t a comfort. The chill in his dark, vaguely familiar eyes only made her more terrified of him.

“But you let my half brother touch them. Am I so different from him?” he asked.

“Rowan’s never touched my willstones. He wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

Carrick sneered at her. “But I would?”

Lily wanted to answer him. She wanted to say “obviously” but she didn’t dare. The drawer was still open and she was still his prisoner. She shut her mouth.

“What did my half brother show you about me?”

“One memory—a fragment of a memory, really. You were skinny and bruised.”

“Did he pity me?”

“He felt bad for you.”

Carrick’s eyes flashed. “Then why didn’t he help me?” he said through clenched teeth.

“Because he was just a little boy.” Lily shrugged, like her answer was obvious.

“Later,” Carrick barked. Lily jumped, sensing his anger unhinging him. His eyes had a wild look to them. “I mean later, when he was set up at the Citadel and his life was nice and plush. Did he ever think to find me or help me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she pleaded. “He only had one memory of you. Carrick, he didn’t know you.”

“But he knew what I was going through. What was happening to me.” He broke off for a moment to calm himself. “Everyone knew.”

“He was too little. He didn’t understand.” Lily threw her hands up, losing patience. “I don’t understand.”

“But you defend him.” Carrick stared down at her willstones. “You defend him because you love him. And you love him because he’s special. Because he got taken to the Citadel when he was seven while I got taken to hell.”

His hand hovered over Lily’s stones. She pulled herself up the bars, tears already streaming down her face at the thought of him touching her three little hearts.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’?” Carrick asked. Lily nodded desperately, hoping for any way to relate to him, to reach out to his humanity. “It’s a lie,” he said quietly. “There are things that a person can live through that make him weaker. Things that can leave you less than you were before. Maybe you’re about to experience one of them.”

Suffering descended on Lily like a claw from the sky.

* * *

Lily? Where are you?

I don’t know, Juliet. They haven’t said. This is all I have.

Lily replayed the brief images she’d seen—the cell, the alcove, and the desk.