Page 86 of A Resistance of Witches

“Thank you,” Sybil murmured, and Evelyn excused herself. She looked at Lydia, who stared into her teacup and said nothing.

“Give it time,” said Sybil.

Lydia sipped her tea. The cup shook in her hand. “We don’t have time,” she whispered.

Sybil leaned closer and took the teacup from Lydia, setting it on the table. “Darling, you’ve done so much. You’ve given everything you have to this cause. Please, let me take this burden from you so you can focus on getting well.”

Lydia felt as if there were a clock hanging above her head, ticking down to catastrophe.Seven days.

“You have to find it.” Lydia’s voice was thin and brittle. “Please, promise me you’ll find it.”

Sybil nodded, but then her face fell just a little. She fussed with her jewelry, spinning one of her rings on her finger.

“What is it?”

Sybil huffed. “It’s Vivian. She’s vehemently opposed to any further efforts to retrieve theGrimorium Bellum. She claims that you were operating under my orders in France, and that I should be removed as Grand Mistress as punishment. Of course, she’s afteryourhead as well.But don’t you worry about that. I have it all in hand. It will take a stronger witch than Vivian Osborne to stop me.”

Vivian. Everywhere Lydia looked, there she was, standing in their way, moving theGrimorium Bellumeven farther out of reach, with no one to stop her, and no one the wiser.

Lydia felt like the world was turning sideways around her. “Sybil, I’m so sorry for everything….”

“None of that! I’ll not have you apologizing for doing what’s right. Not after you were the only one of us with the courage to do it. We’ll find the book. That’s all that matters now.”

Lydia took a stuttering breath. She ducked her head to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes, but it was no use.

“Lydia? What’s wrong?” Sybil clucked over her, taking her by the hand. “Are you worried about your companions from the château? Is that it?”

Lydia could feel her pulse ticking ever upward, an unnerving sensation that had plagued her ever since she’d returned home, brought on by even the most minor excitement.

“I…yes. They were holding off the Gestapo when I lost consciousness. I don’t know what happened to them after that.”

Sybil tsked sympathetically and refilled Lydia’s teacup. “It must be very difficult for you, not being able to reach them. But, darling, your friends would want you to recover from your ordeal. I know how you are when you set your mind to a thing, but you’re only doing yourself more harm by not allowing yourself to rest.”

“But if I could just project, I would know where to find theGrimorium Bellum….” Her voice was rising, her heart beating too fast.

“There are other ways.”

Lydia couldn’t seem to get enough air. Her pulse raced, irregular and stumbling over itself. “I can’t just give up, I can’t….”

Sybil came off the couch and knelt by her side, holding her hand firmly. “You mustn’t overexcite yourself, darling.” She brushed the damp hair from Lydia’s forehead and smoothed her curls with her fingers. Lydia felt panicky and feverish. She knew Sybil was right, that she was only prolonging her recovery by pushing herself too hard, but she couldn’t bear the thought of simply handing over responsibility for theGrimorium Bellumto someone else. She couldn’t explain the things she imagined every time she closed her eyes, what she knew would come to pass if she failed. Millions dead—of disease, madness, starvation, consumed alive by magic and turned to ash. The book had shown her. She had seen it.

“Drink your tea.” Sybil examined her with motherly care. Lydia looked up and saw Evelyn standing in the doorway, watching.

“Her heart’s been weakened, Grand Mistress. Too much excitement isn’t good for her.”

“Of course.” Sybil stood. “I should be going, then.”

“But you’ve only just arrived!” Lydia protested.

“And I’ve upset you terribly, so now I’m off again. I’ll come by soon. I promise. Here.” She took a brown paper package from inside her purse and handed it to Lydia. The dark, earthy smell of coffee rose to meet Lydia’s nostrils as she crinkled the paper.

“Oh, bless you, Sybil.” She clutched the precious cargo to her chest and inhaled deeply.

Sybil winked. “Can’t have you running out again.”

Evelyn retrieved Sybil’s coat and offered a stiff curtsy. To Lydia’s great surprise, Sybil took Evelyn by both shoulders and embraced her warmly, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks. Evelyn allowed it but did not return the gesture.

“Grand Mistress.”

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