Page 100 of A Resistance of Witches
•••
They arrived at the flatseparately so no one would note their arrival. First Lydia, slipping unnoticed up the back stairwell she’d used to sneak out earlier that day; then Fiona a few minutes later, appearing from thin air in Evelyn’s kitchen on a gust of wind that smelled of fresh rain.
“You must be Fiona!” Evelyn stood to greet her guest. “I’m Lydia’s mum.”
“Delighted to meet you, Mrs. Polk.” Fiona smiled warmly as she took Evelyn’s hand.
“Please, call me Evelyn. I’ve got the kettle on. I can fix us all a cuppa before we get on our way, if there’s time.”
Fiona glanced at Lydia but said nothing.
“Milk?” Evelyn asked. “I’m afraid I’m all out of sugar.”
“Milk is fine.” Fiona turned her gaze on Lydia. “Might I speak with you for a moment? Please excuse us, Evelyn.”
“Go on, dear.” Evelyn retreated to the kitchen while Lydia led Fiona to the sitting room.
Fiona’s smile dissolved the moment Evelyn was out of sight. “You said we were going to pick up a few things.”
“Yes, well, strictly speaking—”
“You didn’t think to mention one of those things would beyour mother?”
“As well as some other assorted provisions.”
Lydia glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen. Evelyn was seatedat her table, the kettle already hissing away, with one of Lydia’s plain wool skirts in her lap. She was stitching something into the hem—a half dozen tiny, waxed paper packets, each one containing a different spell from Evelyn’s own cupboard. Spells for healing, for hexing, for protection against dark magic. Lydia had tried to assure her that everything would go to plan, but Evelyn would not be dissuaded.
“Do you think I’m a bloody ferryman?” Fiona hissed. “You do know I can only travel with one person at a time, don’t you?”
“I did realize that, yes.”
“It will take time,” Fiona went on. “I’ll need at least a few minutes before I can travel again after the first trip. It’s not easy, you know, dragging a whole extra person hundreds of miles in the blink of an eye.”
“I understand.” Lydia looked again toward the kitchen. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important. I need her.”
Sisterhood means your people, Evelyn had said.Your family.Well, Evelyn was Lydia’s only family. A family of two. She hoped they would be enough.
Fiona fumed, darting a look toward the kitchen as Evelyn hummed away. After a moment, her face softened.
“Is she up for this? What you’re going to do, you don’t need me to tell you it’s bloody dangerous. Is she strong enough?”
“She’s strong enough,” Lydia said, but even as she spoke the words, a hard, metallic fear wedged itself inside of her.
“For her sake, I hope you’re right.”
Evelyn appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a worn, pink tea towel. Fiona quickly arranged her face, the bright smile reappearing in an instant.
“Tea’s ready.” Evelyn smiled as Fiona walked past her into the kitchen, but when she looked at Lydia, the smile faltered, and all of her anxiety seemed to be laid bare, just for a second. She did her best to hide it, but it was too late. Lydia had already seen.
“Come on, love.” She held out her hand. “Tea first.”
•••
Lydia sat at the kitchen tablewith her gran’s shield stone hanging like an anchor around her neck. The plain wool skirt she wore felt strangely heavy, the hem weighed down with her mother’s concoctions.
“Remember, you need to work quickly,” Evelyn said. “The moment you take off the shield stone, they’ll be able to track you. They might not notice right away, but I wager you’ll only have a few minutes before they realize you’re back on the board.”
“I know.” Lydia felt the magic in her blood pulsing at full strength against the weight of the stone.
