Page 35 of A Resistance of Witches

Lydia felt a chill run through her. “But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. But that didn’t make it stop. Every time I touched it, it was like voices in my head, this constant chattering. I thought I was losing my mind.”

“What about René? Did he hear it too?”

Henry shook his head.

“Fascinating.” Lydia watched Henry with new interest. “Your mother. I think she must be a witch.”

Henry looked up at her so sharply that Lydia felt her breath catch. “What makes you say that?”

She forced herself to smile, even though his reaction had caught her off guard. “I meant no offense. Not all who practice the old ways call themselves witches. But I believe she must have some magic in her. That’s why the book spoke to you. You have her blood.”

“So, I’m a witch now too?”

Lydia considered it. Magic in men was rare, but not unheard of. What was it her gran used to say?Men have power the moment they enter the world. Women have to make their own.Only that wasn’t quite true, was it? Only certain men were born with the sort of power her gran had been referring to. And Henry was most certainly not one of them.

“I don’t know. Do most ordinary men know how to cast a cleansing spell like the one upstairs?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets and didn’t answer.

“Henry, I realize you have no reason to trust me. But if the Nazis get to that book before I do, it could mean the end of everything. I have to find it.”

Henry regarded her for a moment, then looked away. “I don’t know how to help you. I don’t even know if Ishouldhelp you, but it doesn’t matter. The book is gone.”

“There are ways to track it down. I could have traced it from the room upstairs, but that cleansing spell you cast has made that impossible. That leaves me with one other option.”

“Which is?”

“Youtouched the book. An object that powerful leaves behind a mark. It will be faint, but it could be enough.”

Henry stiffened. “No.”

“Henry…”

“No.Maybe you’re telling me the truth, and maybe you’re on the right side of all this, but I can’t take that chance.”

“Henry, please just—”

“What would you even do with it once you found it?” His eyes bored into hers, accusing her. “This thing must be pretty powerful for you to go to all this trouble. You’re afraid of what the Nazis will do once they get their hands on it, but what about you? What willyoudo?”

“I would never—”

“I don’t know you. You want my help, but all you’ve given me since the moment we met is lies and magic tricks. Why would I trust you?”

His intensity was startling, and Lydia felt herself go still as a rabbit under his gaze. After a moment he seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just…I can’t help you.”

They sat in silence as the fire burned down, and the chill that had been creeping at the edges of the room seemed to unfurl. After a long time, Henry stood and began clearing the plates and cups from the table. Lydia watched him, and just as he was about to finish, she spoke.

“What about your friend?”

He cocked his head. A warning. “What about him?”

“He’s been missing how long now?”

Henry exhaled slowly. “Almost five weeks.”

“I can find him, you know. If he’s still with the book, that is. Even if he’s not, it would be a start.”

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