Lily reached out to Juliet and let her know of their decision to leave immediately. While the sisters discussed what Juliet should tell Simms, Una and Breakfast helped each other compose farewell letters for their families. Tristan insisted on being the one to write the letter for Scot’s parents. He knew them best.
“What are you going to say to them?” Breakfast asked.
Tristan shrugged, at a loss. “I guess I’ll tell them he died trying to save someone else. Maybe thinking he died a hero will help.”
Breakfast gave Tristan a doubtful look, but he didn’t object. What could any of them really say to their parents besides good-bye and I love you?
“Tristan,” Rowan said, pulling Tristan aside. “Do you have chains or rope in your car?”
“No. I have bungee cords,” he said, opening the trunk. “What do you need them for?”
Lily answered for Rowan. “You’ll have to tie me down so I don’t instinctively jump off the pyre when you burn me.” A heavy pause followed. “There’s no other way to worldjump, you guys,” she said calmly. Something occurred to her, and the words were out of her mouth before she could recall where they’d come from. “I’m a witch. And witches burn.”
They placed their good-bye letters in a neat row on the dashboard and left the car doors unlocked. Dawn was near. They were running out of time.
“The people in the house over there will report an abandoned car when they wake up,” Tristan said, gesturing down the block. “We should go.”
They hiked back through the woods and built Lily’s pyre.
Juliet. I’m leaving now. Take care of Mom.
I will. Promise that you won’t stay away forever.
Lily stared at the pile of logs in front of her, unable to answer her sister. She didn’t know if she would ever be back.
“Let’s do it,” she said, nodding at Rowan.
She approached the unsteady heap of wood carefully. This pyre was much smaller than the one that had fueled her in battle and, thankfully, it lacked the intimidating stake jutting up from the center. Instead, Rowan had ordered that one long birch log be laid across the top. The pyre was still large, and Lily’s legs were clumsy with fear as she climbed onto it.
Or was it excitement that was making her stumble? Now that she smelled the wood sap and saw the white, splintery guts of the split logs, she remembered the power of the pyre as sharply as she remembered the pain. It coiled in her like lust.
“You won’t burn for long. Remember, you don’t have to last through an entire battle this time. Just long enough to worldjump,” Rowan said, helping Lily lie down on top of the long birch log. His hands shook and his eyes were wide. “If it’s too much—”
“It won’t be,” Lily whispered. She guided his mouth to hers and kissed him. As he kissed her back he pushed her arms over her head and bound her wrists tightly to the birch log beneath her. When he pulled away he kept his eyes locked with hers. “Tristan. Tie her feet,” he said.
Lily felt Tristan strapping down her ankles with the bungee cord while she and Rowan stared at each other. She could feel Rowan’s need and fear mirroring her own. On the pyre they were always one.
Tristan and Rowan moved back and Una stepped forward, a makeshift torch blazing in her hand. She looked at Lily with a mix of fear and pride in her eyes while she touched the torch to the logs under Lily’s body, setting them aflame.
The heat came on much faster this time. As soon as Lily smelled the smoke she felt the fire. In seconds she was screaming.
Lily! How can I help you?
You can’t, Rowan. In fact, you have to go.
Lily pushed him out of her mind. She knew that having him there would only make her focus on this world, rather than allow her to spirit walk and find the world she was seeking. In order to do that, she needed Lillian—and Lillian was always easy for Lily to find when she was in pain. Lily still hated her for what she had done, and when she wasn’t burning she knew she would remember that, but her hatred seemed to vanish when it was just the two of them, clinging to each other on the raft.
I’m here, Lily.
You’ve won, Lillian. I’m coming back.
This isn’t a contest between us. You could have gone to your authorities and revealed your magic. You could have cleared your name and had the police hunt Carrick for you. But you didn’t choose that. You chose to be known as a murderer in your world. You chose your world’s safety over the safety of you and your coven—the good of the many over the good of the few, even if one of those few is you. You will be thought of as a murderer and a villain in your world. Like me.
I may be you, Lillian, but I don’t make the same choices you do.
This choice proves otherwise. The reason I killed the shaman and the reason I hunt the three scientists is because they did exactly what you won’t—what you’re willing to leave your world in order to avoid doing.
What are you talking about?