Page 51 of A Resistance of Witches

“There are Nazis everywhere. They just go by different names.”

They were quiet for a moment. Lydia waited until the panic began rising in her again before speaking.

“May I ask you something else?”

“Why not?” Lydia couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed, but she pressed on.

“That first night…” She was suddenly terribly embarrassed. “That first night at the château, I’m afraid I went…exploring, and—”

“That was you.” Lydia was surprised to hear him laugh. “I should have known.”

“I’m sorry.” She waited a moment. “Who were you talking to?”

Henry didn’t answer right away. He waited so long that Lydia was sure he wouldn’t answer at all. Then, finally, he spoke.

“My father. He died when I was just a baby. And sometimes I…talk to him. Ask his advice. I’ve done it ever since I was a kid.”

It was a lie. Whoever or whatever Henry had been talking to that night, it wasn’t advice he’d been asking for. Lydia remembered the desperation she’d heard in his voice.Please. I can’t do this right now. I know you think I can do something for you. And I’m sorry. I really am. But I am tired, and I just…can’t.

“Does it help?” She watched his face in the mirror, as if she would find the truth there.

Henry kept his eyes on the road. “Sometimes.”

They drove in silence. Bare trees seemed to reach through the mist like skeletons, casting eerie shapes in the fog.

“Can I askyoua personal question?” Henry asked.

“Of course.”

He didn’t speak right away, as if he were reconsidering. “Why do you change your face?”

Lydia couldn’t conceal her surprise. “Oh.How did you—”

“Back in the cave, when you were in my head. I could sort of…seethese little pieces of you. Just flashes, but it was enough.” He chuckled. “Your mother seems like an interesting woman.”

Lydia couldn’t think of anything to say. She felt exposed and immensely vulnerable.

“I saw you. The real you, I mean. At first, I didn’t recognize you, but then…” His eyes flashed toward her in the mirror again, curious and intense. “You’re working at it all the time, aren’t you? In the back of your mind, a part of you is always keeping up the illusion.”

She felt her heart flutter, an unnerving, confusing sensation she couldn’t make sense of. “It’s not as bad as all that,” she said softly. “After a while it becomes second nature.”

Henry nodded. “I’m not judging. It’s very good. I never would have known you were doing it. But, it’s funny. Now that I know, I can almost tell it’s not real. It’s like an optical illusion. Once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t mean any offense. I like your face.” He sounded so serious as he said it. So sincere.

“Oh?”She laughed. “Which one?”

There they were again, his eyes, watching her. Lydia felt herself grow warm under his gaze.

“Both of them,” he said.

•••

The farmhouse appearedthrough the fog like a ghost ship. To Lydia, it felt as if someone had plucked it from a dream and set it before her, whole, but not quite real.

“Did we beat them?” Rebecca mumbled, stirring. “Is the book still here?”

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