It’s too late. Lillian is opening the Salem gates. Her army marches out now.
“Sachem, I have to go,” Lily said, stumbling back. Alaric nodded at Lily in understanding and she turned to go. The warriors still waiting clamored to be claimed. “I’m sorry,” Lily cried. “But it’s time.”
“Lily!” Juliet said, clutching at her sister’s arm. “Be strong. And come back.”
“I will.” Lily hugged Juliet quickly and sped off.
She ran through the last of the waiting braves, brushing her fingertips across their bared willstones. She heard their patterns in her head, but didn’t have time to process any of them as she ran through the crowd, past the outstretched necks and pleading eyes. She had no idea if it was enough, or if she’d missed these soldiers and they’d have to fight without her strength.
The shouts of the sergeants marshalling the foot soldiers rose up behind her as she ran to Rowan. She heard the troops being rallied into ranks and marching out as she ran to the back of the army, where her pyre awaited.
Lily could see the heap of wood towering high above the heads of the scrambling men and women like a huge hill of sticks. At the very top, a single stake stuck up from the pyre. Even from a distance, Lily could see iron shackles dangling from its top. Her stomach twisted with fear.
Rowan, Tristan, and Caleb met her at the bottom of the pyre. A rough staircase had been built into the side of the giant stack of wood, leading up to the stake. They waited for her at its entrance.
“Take everything off,” Rowan said, gesturing to Lily’s wearhyde gear. He held a white slip of silk in his hands.
Lily untied her boots and stripped off her clothes, her fingers fumbling and her knees shaking. As soon as she was undressed, Rowan dropped the white slip over her naked body. She shivered as the slippery cold silk whispered across her skin and flared out around her thighs.
“Good luck, Lily,” Tristan whispered, kissing her softly on the cheek.
“Don’t die,” Caleb said, trying to smile bravely. Lily nodded and swallowed hard but couldn’t smile back.
Rowan took her wrist and led her up the precarious steps to the stake. Her bare feet padded up the rough-hewn edges of the recently harvested logs. The turpentine smell of sap and abraded wood surrounded her. Clumsy with fear, she stumbled along behind Rowan up the steep and wobbly way. Her tender feet filled with splinters and began to bleed. On top of the pyre was a single plank that led to the stake. Rowan guided Lily across the plank and pushed her back against the stake.
“Are you doing this for me?” he asked, pressing against her. His face was pale and his eyes were wide and vulnerable.
“No.
I’m doing this for all of us,” Lily replied, happy he hadn’t asked her that question in mindspeak. “What are the shackles for?”
“When you start to burn, no matter what your mind wants, your body will try to leap off the pyre. It’s a reflex.”
Rowan took her wrists in his hands, looking down at them. Slowly, he raised her left arm over her head, and clasped it in one shackle. Lily started shaking all over.
“What do I do?”
“Gift as many as you can as fast as you can. If you feel yourself burning and you can’t get rid of the energy quickly enough, send it to me. No matter how much it is.” He raised her right arm over her head and locked it in the second shackle. “I can take it.”
“Oh God, Rowan. I’m scared.” Her eyes filled with tears and her chest swelled in and out with panicked breaths.
I’ll be with you. Rowan kissed her quickly, crushing her against him. Always.
He tore himself away and ran down the rough steps. “Light it!” he yelled to Tristan and Caleb.
Lily could hear her breath rasping in and out, and the iron chains jingling over her head. She looked across the battlefield and saw a bright fire at the top of the wall. Lillian’s pyre was already aflame.
She smelled the smoke first. It billowed up from underneath, choking her. Lily coughed so hard she doubled over until the chains stopped her, and saw the flames flickering below. Then she felt the heat.
Her feet were suddenly burning. An animal need to get away from the flames possessed her, and Lily tugged violently on the chains. The flames rose quickly. There was no way to escape them, no matter how she twisted or turned, and she began to burn. Screams tore out of her, horrible shrieking sounds that she’d never made before.
Lily. Take the heat. Change it into force. Give it to me, or you’ll die.
Writhing in agony, Lily took the heat in and found that as she did so, the flames felt cooler. She pulled in more and more heat until she thought she would burst with it, then turned the gathered heat into force. The roar of the flames silenced for one brief moment. Lily looked up and saw a bright column of light beaming straight up from where she stood, hundreds of feet into the sky. A witch wind howled high up in the atmosphere, spinning the clouds above like a hurricane. It made an eerie sound, like the sky were moaning. Across the battlefield, Lillian’s hurricane spun above the Citadel, a twin to Lily’s.
Give it to us, Lily.
Lily recalled the patterns of every willstone she’d ever claimed. Thousands of different rhythms flashed across her mind, forming a complicated series of vibrations that she experienced like a song of buzzes and hums in her body. There were so many, but the pain helped her focus on each and every one. Lily unlocked all the stones in her army and filled them with power.