Page 98 of A Resistance of Witches
Lydia thought for a moment. “Angry.”
Evelyn nodded. “Angry is better than heartbroken. Angry gets things done.”
Lydia picked up the brown bottle from the bedside table, considering the cloudy liquid inside.
“Are you ready?” her mother asked.
Lydia turned the bottle over in her hands and nodded.
“Good. I’ll get a bucket.”
•••
It was a blustery dayin Hyde Park, and a biting wind whipped the leaves in circles, making them dance along the tree-lined path. Gentlemen clutched their hats to their heads as they rushed past the chestnut trees and scrubby vegetable allotments, and ladies cried out in frustrationas the wind tugged at their hair, but Fiona McGann was the picture of well-groomed perfection. She walked alone, wrapped in a scarlet overcoat with glinting brass buttons, her golden hair neat and shiny, her cheeks glamoured a lovely, windswept pink.
Lydia Polk, standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, couldn’t be bothered. She was saving her energy.
She observed the subtle labyrinth of spellwork that lay across the park like a hedge maze. It had been placed there by the academy as a special favor from Isadora to Churchill—a layer of confounding magic, meant to keep clandestine meetings within the park hidden from prying eyes. It’s why she’d chosen this place, as public as it was. Lydia took comfort in the gentle hum of the spell at work as it buzzed across her skin, knowing that anyone who’d attempted to follow her would find themselves suddenly and inexplicably wandering in some far-flung corner of the park, their true purpose long forgotten.
“Look at you!” Fiona cried when she saw her. “To hear Sybil tell it you were half-dead and not taking visitors, but here you are, alive and well.”
Lydia joined Fiona on the path as they walked side by side. “You didn’t tell her you were meeting me, did you?”
“You told me not to. Besides, I love a secret. Whatever is all the cloak and dagger for, anyway?”
Fiona and Lydia were not close. They might have been—they were both accomplished in their fields, both well liked and respected, both active in the war effort. The trouble, as far as Lydia could tell, had always been Kitty. From the first day of school, Kitty and Fiona had taken an intense dislike to each other. Kitty thought Fiona was vain, spoiled, and moralistic, while Fiona maintained that Kitty was a disreputable hell-raiser. Lydia had never had any particular issue with Fiona herself, admired her skill in point of fact, but with Kitty always by her side, any chance they had of real friendship was dashed. Still, the two of them had always maintained a certain polite friendliness.
“I need a favor,” Lydia said.
Fiona raised her perfectly arched eyebrows and waited.
“I need you to take me back to France, and I need you to tell no one. Including Sybil.”
Fiona tilted her head. “Sybil is grand mistress now, Lydia.”
“I know.”
“You want me tolieto the grand mistress? Why?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Fiona paused. “Well, I’m afraid that’s a bit of a nonstarter.” She looked Lydia up and down appraisingly. “I’m so glad to see you’re on the mend, Lydia. Really, I am. But I’m afraid I can’t help you.” She turned and began to walk back in the direction of the academy.
Lydia followed her. “Fiona, stop, listen—”
Fiona did neither. “No. You want me to take you to France, a place where you almostdied, mind you, lie to the grand mistress about it, and you won’t even tell me why? Lydia, I love a bit of trouble when I can get it, but this might be too rich even for my blood.”
Lydia placed a hand on her arm. “Fiona, please.”
Fiona eyed Lydia’s hand coolly until she let go of her arm. Then she sighed dramatically and waited, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve as she did.
“I want to trust you,” Lydia said.
“Thendo.”
“This isn’t a game, Fiona. What I’m involved in is extremely serious.”
Fiona looked at her in mock surprise, blue eyes flashing. “Goodness, I had no idea it wasserious.Why, you’d think I would have put that much together while I was scraping you off the floor of that dirty château in Dordogne. How silly of me.”
