Page 40 of A Resistance of Witches
She scoured the room, looking for letters, anything with an address. She scanned the horizon, searching again for signposts, buildings, mountains, anything to give her a hint to the location. She paced the room, taking an inventory of every detail: knitting left half-finished in a basket. A pair of glasses. An unusual silver ornament nailed to the doorframe. A child’s drawing, with the name Jean-Luc scrawled in clumsy script at the bottom.
She considered the body in the yard. Perhaps it held some clue, some hint about the location of the house. The problem, of course, was theGrimorium Bellum—her projection was tied to it, and wandering very far from its location would be impossible. She stood in the open doorway and looked out at the slumped figure. Even here, she could feel the book drawing her back like gravity. She took one step forward, then another, but collapsed under the weight of its pull. She turned back, hysteria rising in her. She’d been projecting for too long. Her body was beginning to tire, and she was no closer to discovering the location of the house. She choked back a sob. She had seen everything the house had to offer her. And it wasn’t enough.
She returned to her body with a gasp.
“Jesus.” Henry held her shoulders as she gulped air. “Your hands were so cold. And you were so still. For a minute I thought…”
“That happens. I’m all right.”
To her surprise, he didn’t let her go right away. He kept his hands on her, steadying her as she caught her breath. She could feel his eyes on her, watching as the color returned to her cheeks. He seemed to be catching his breath as well, like he’d been holding it, waiting for her to come back.
“Did you find it?” There, under his words, Lydia could hear the other silent question.Did you find René?
The cave seemed to swim around her.How long was I gone?, she wondered dimly.
“Lydia?”
“I could feel it. I was there, I could feel the book, but I don’t know where I was.”
“Okay, but you can try again, right?”
She felt as if she might burst into tears. “No. You don’t understand. This was my one chance. I can’t track the book again until the next full moon, and by then it will be too late.”
Henry was quiet. “And the Germans?”
“They sent someone, but she left before I did.” Lydia’s voice shook. “It was the same woman, the one who killed Kitty and Isadora. She knows the location. I don’t know how, but she does.”
Henry’s eyes went wide. “If René is still there…”
“He isn’t.”
Tell him, a voice inside her head commanded.He deserves to know.
“Henry, when I was at the house…I saw what I believe was the body of a man. I couldn’t see his face, but…” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. She watched him as the full meaning of her words sank in.
Henry slumped back against the cave wall. They sat in the yellow glow of the kerosene lamp, the only sound the dripping of water somewhere deeper in the cave. After a long moment, Henry ran a hand over his face and stared up at the painted menagerie of ancient deer and oxen, as if asking them for the answer to some question.
“Tell me what you saw at the house.”
She shook her head. “Nothing useful. No street markers or letters, nothing with an address.” She hung her head. “Besides, we’re too late. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Of course itmatters,” Henry said sharply. “It matters to me.”
Lydia looked at his face, all hard angles in the sputtering lamplight.
Like a father.That’s what Henry had said about René. René, who more than likely was out there even now, cold and alone under that oak tree.
“I didn’t mean…” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I only meant that it’s too late to find the book. The other witch, the one who was there with me at the house. She’s a Traveler.”
Henry’s brow furrowed. “You’ve lost me. What’s a Traveler?”
“A Traveler is a witch who can move from place to place at will. All she has to do is close her eyes and she can be anywhere. Which means she probably has the book even now.”
“Did you see her take it?”
The room stopped spinning. She looked at Henry. “No.”
“So maybe she didn’t figure it out, after all. Maybe she was lying.”
