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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 you do to 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?”

“ 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 into the 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’t know why! 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 unspoken thing 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.

“Shall we give you another dose?” Lydia stood, her head swimming. Before Gerda could answer, Lydia blew the powder into her face, and Gerda let loose another shriek of pain and rage.

“The grand mistress gave the order!”

Lydia gripped the table for support. “Gerda.” She waited for the girl to stop her howling and look at her. “Who is your grand mistress?”

Oh, but you know , Lydia thought as she looked at Evelyn, gripping that brown paper package in her hands as if it were a bomb. As the thing in her stomach turned solid and alive. Stupid, naive girl. You already know.

Gerda lifted her chin and looked Lydia in the eye, defiant.

“My grand mistress is Sybil Winter.”