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“So everyone here can do magic?”
“An average person can do small things, like seal something shut until they will it to open, turn lights off and on, or find something they’ve lost. Some of the more gifted can even share a little mindspeak with blood relations or stone kin. Mechanics can heal, regulate bodies, and strengthen the potions they create—along with a few simple spells, like camouflage and glamour.” He stopped and looked at her. “But only crucibles can do real magic because of their natural ability to transmute matter into energy and force inside their bodies. Their willstones help to direct and intensify that ability.”
Rowan fished his willstone out from under his clothes and showed it to Lily. She leaned close to peer at it.
“But a witch can do even more than that,” he continued. Lily looked back up at him. “She can unlock another’s willstone so that the wearer enacts her will. And that’s just the start.”
“What’s the difference between a crucible and a witch?” Lily asked.
“All witches start out as crucibles, but not all crucibles have the strength or the talent to become a witch. Most just stay crucibles. Very few are capable of graduating to full witch. There’s a level of magic—it’s called warrior magic—that crucibles don’t have the power to do.”
Lily wondered what else a witch could do that a crucible couldn’t, but just as she was about to ask, her eyes drifted down to stare at Rowan’s willstone again, her mind going blank. It resembled an opal, except that the dancing lights inside of the stone seemed to flicker and glimmer independent of the sun. Like it was alive inside with sparkling tho
ughts. It was so beautiful. She wanted to dive inside it.
“Don’t,” Rowan said, jerking away from her. She hadn’t even realized that she was reaching out for it. Lily dropped her hand, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, aware that she had offended Rowan in some way.
“It’s an important thing to touch someone else’s willstone.” He tucked the stone back under his shirt protectively with a tight expression on his face. He turned and started storming off, like she’d just kicked his grandma.
“I said I was sorry,” Lily called after him. “What’s the big deal?”
Rowan stopped and turned to face her, his hands planted on his narrow hips. “Touching a stone is how you tune to it. It’s intimate, okay?” He looked away again. “And dangerous—for me. When mechanics touch each other’s stones, they become stone kin—like Caleb, Tristan, and I. We can hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s feelings. But when a witch touches your stone, she can key her mind to it and claim you.”
“Claim you?” Lily repeated. Rowan nodded and started walking away from her again. She raced to catch up to him, wondering exactly what he meant by “intimate.”
“A witch can take your will away. She can get in your head and control your body. Like a hand in a glove.”
“That’s awful!” Lily exclaimed, visions of Body Snatchers dancing gruesomely in her head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Rowan. Even if I did touch your willstone.”
“Well, you couldn’t unless I let you in first,” Rowan said, his mouth pulled up in a guarded half smile. “No one can steal a willstone. A witch or a crucible needs the key, the right vibration from the wearer’s mind, in order to possess it. That must be given willingly or the willstone cracks.”
Lily remembered Lillian saying that she couldn’t have brought Lily to this world without her consent. At the time, Lily hadn’t known that her little pity party would get her transported to another universe—she’d just been having a good cry on a rock. She didn’t know that wishing she could disappear would actually make it happen. She’d been tricked. Bitterness swelled in Lily at the thought of how deeply Lillian had wronged her.
“I’m not upset with you anymore,” Rowan said quietly, looking straight ahead as they walked along. “You didn’t know.”
“What? No, it’s not that,” she replied, realizing that she’d been silent for longer than she’d realized. “I’m just wondering why anyone would knowingly allow themselves to be claimed by anyone else.”
“With a witch inside of you, you can do just about anything—jump higher, run faster, and more. A lot more if the witch is powerful.” Rowan’s voice was low and serious. “But once you let a witch in, your willstone is keyed to her. You have to smash your stone to get away. Start over with a new stone. And that’s really—”
“I’m guessing it sucks,” Lily said, remembering how Caleb had gone stiff at any mention of smashing a willstone. Rowan gave her a funny look, and she laughed, realizing he had no idea what she’d just said. “It’s just an expression from my world. When something sucks that means it’s bad.”
“Huh,” Rowan said, not seeing the logic between sucking and being bad. Now that Lily thought about it, neither did she.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“But fun to say,” Rowan conceded. “That sucks. This sucks. You suck.”
“Hey!” Lily elbowed him, feigning offense. “Be nice to me or I won’t teach you the difference between sucking and blowing.”
Rowan laughed, and the sound was so startling to Lily she stopped walking and stared at him.
“What?” he asked, puzzled.
“You’ve got a great laugh,” she replied.
He looked away and tipped his head in silent thanks, then started walking again. Lily watched carefully as the cheerful look on his face darkened.
