Page 93 of A Resistance of Witches

Slowly, Evelyn took a rag from the sink and handed it to the girl.“Clean that up.”

The girl glowered but fell to her knees and wiped up the spittle from the floorboards.

“Sit,” Evelyn said.

The girl did.

“Do not spit on my floor again.”

Lydia had never heard this tone from Evelyn before. The voice itself was the same, but there was a steeliness to it that Lydia didn’t recognize.

“What’s your name?” Evelyn asked again.

“You can’t make me betray my coven, and you can’t have my name, hedge witch,” the girl snarled. “I’ll cut my own throat first.”

Lydia flinched, hearing her own ugly words in this witch’s mouth.She looked at Evelyn, but Evelyn did not return the glance. Instead, she lifted the leather pouch from the table and held it lightly in her hand.

“Absolutely right. Clever girl. I can’t force your mind, which means I can’t force your tongue. But I can do this.”

In one swift movement, she pulled a fistful of powder from the leather pouch, leaned down, and blew the dust into the girl’s face. The reaction was immediate—the girl began hacking violently, tears streaming down her face, shrieks of outrage and vile language pouring from her mouth in English and in German. Lydia recoiled as the pungent aroma of the powder reached her nostrils.

“Open that window, love,” Evelyn said calmly.

Lydia did, then sat, winded from the effort. “What was that?”

“Hedge magic.”

“Bitch,” the girl spat, “what did you do to me?”

“Language,” Evelyn said in her steely voice.

“I’m blind!” the girl shrieked.

“That will wear off.” Evelyn stood in front of the girl and waited for the hacking to stop, watching patiently as the tears and snot fell onto her beautiful blue coat in rivers.

“Now, let’s try again.” Evelyn leaned in close. “What’s your name?”

“Gerda Horn.” The girl looked up in alarm, as if the words had been spoken by someone else.

“And tell us, Gerda, what’s your special power?”

“I’m a Traveler. What did youdoto me?” she gasped.

Lydia turned to Evelyn. “A truth spell? How long will it last?”

“Hard to say. That’s why I made so much. If she stops talking, I can always give her more. She won’t like it. My understanding is that the burning sensation only gets stronger over time.”

“You’ll pay,” Gerda hissed, but her indignation was shot through with fear. “You’ll regret sullying a witch of the Third Reich with your dirt magic,hag.”

“If I wanted to,” Evelyn said coolly, “I could order you to get up from that chair and walk straight into the Thames.”

Gerda’s eyes bulged as she awaited Evelyn’s next words.

“The Witches of the Third Reich. How many are you?”

Gerda remained silent for a long time, fighting the words as they crawled up her throat. Evelyn picked up the pouch from the table and blew another dose of powder into her face, then stood back as Gerda screamed in pain.

“How many?”

---