Page 94 of A Resistance of Witches

“Eleven!” Gerda howled as the tears streamed down her face, turning the pink powder to mud.

“Including you?” Lydia asked. Gerda nodded.

Evelyn stepped closer as the powder dissipated. “Why so few?”

Gerda panted, enraged. “Deutschland is home to hundreds of witches. Twelve swore themselves to the service of the Führer. More will come.”

Evelyn tilted her head at that. “Twelve swore themselves to the service of the Führer. So why are you now one short of a coven?”

“I know why,” Lydia said. “It’s because one of your own was killed. Stabbed through the throat with her own knife. Isn’t that right, Gerda?”

Gerda stared at Lydia with a look of pure hatred. “Murdered by some filthy little Jüdin.”

Lydia tsked. “I believe I share some of the credit for that. How do you think that Jüdin broke free of your friend’s magic?” She watched as the realization washed over Gerda. “What was her name?”

Gerda’s face darkened. “Margot.”

“Margot. You should know that Margot died badly. She deserved worse.”

“You’ll pay,” Gerda whispered.

Lydia ignored her. She was beginning to enjoy herself, even in her weakened state, and Evelyn did not stop her. “The witch who broke intothe Royal Academy. The one who murdered the grand mistress. What is her name?”

“Ursula.” Gerda smiled, a disconcerting sight under the circumstances. “Ursula Wolfe.”

Lydia stopped. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because Ursula will kill you when she finds out you murdered Margot.”

“I’d have thought she wanted to kill me before. Why hasn’t she?”

“She wants to. But she was ordered to let you live.”

She glanced at Evelyn, then back at Gerda. “I’m confused. I’ve been well informed that I can be a stubborn, meddlesome cow when I want to be. Killing me would have been the smart thing. Lord knows it would have been easy. Why let me live?”

Gerda sneered. “I can’t imagine.” Lydia took the leather pouch from Evelyn’s outstretched hand, and Gerda flinched. “I don’tknowwhy! No one told me!”

Something was wriggling at the edge of Lydia’s consciousness. Something she couldn’t quite bear to look at. She felt her heart pick up speed.

“Was it Ursula who bound my magic?”

“No.”

“Was it you?”

“No.”

She felt herself breaking out into a sweat, cold dread bubbling in her guts. She thought her heart would burst.

“Was it Vivian Osborne?”

Gerda scowled. “Who?”

Lydia looked at her mother, suddenly gone very still in the cramped kitchen. She’d plucked something from her cupboard and was holding it in her hands, staring at it like she was just seeing it for the first time. A brown paper package. She met Lydia’s gaze, and some unspokenthing seemed to pass between them, turning to sludge in the pit of Lydia’s stomach.

“Who gave the order to keep me alive?” she asked very quietly.

Gerda was resisting the power of Evelyn’s spell. The tendons in her neck strained through the skin, and a small whimper escaped from her tightly pressed lips.

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