Page 54

“When Hitler rose to power, we began to hear whispers. His obsession with the occult, with witchcraft. I found myself wondering, What might be possible if the witches of Europe no longer had to hide? What if, instead of living in fear of the persecution of men, we built an alliance with them? Stood alongside the right army, raised up the right man in order to take our rightful place, not as scapegoats to be singled out and despised, but as leaders? Powerful figures, to be feared and respected as we once were?”

Lydia stared, still not quite believing this could be Sybil’s logic. “You talk as if he’s meant to be our savior. He’s a lunatic, Sybil.”

Sybil looked insulted. “You think I don’t know what he is? You think I enjoy watching his hateful rhetoric, those poor families torn apart? I know what he is , Lydia. But he is our one chance to live in the open again. I am doing this for the good of all of us, all witches.”

“ All? Don’t you mean Aryan witches?” Sybil huffed, annoyed. “Or perhaps, you mean European witches, so long as they’re fair skinned and blue eyed? Clearly you don’t mean to include the brujas, or the vedmy, or the ?ovaxanǎ . What about—”

Sybil scowled. “Don’t be cheeky. You know very well what I meant.”

Lydia didn’t, not at all, but she carried on. “If you find him so distasteful, why help him at all? Why not simply take power for yourself? Or has that been your plan all along? Ride Hitler’s coattails into a position of power, only to take his place when the war is over?”

Sybil laughed, as if Lydia had made a joke.

“I meant what I said before. I’ve never had the stomach for politics.

I’ve always preferred a place behind the curtain.

Besides, in my experience, people are much more inclined to follow the leadership of a man than a woman.

And the coven, they believe in him. So many of them were raised for it, you know, and who am I to dissuade them? This way is best.”

Lydia was stunned to silence, the dissonance between the madness of Sybil’s words and the serenity of her demeanor almost too much to bear.

Sybil smiled, smugly oblivious. “Meeting the man was easier than you might think. Germany has always been rich with fairy stories, tales of the witch in the woods. Hitler jumped at the chance to meet the genuine article. I made my case for an alliance, gained his confidence. After that, it was simply a matter of recruitment. Germany is home to some of the most ancient witch bloodlines, after all. Ursula was the first to join, then Margot. They were like sisters, inseparable, both of them on fire for the cause and so eager to learn. A little fanatical, perhaps, although I admit, I encouraged it. A little youthful fanaticism can be a powerful motivator.” Sybil made a face.

“I believe it was your friend downstairs who murdered Margot. The Jewish girl.”

Lydia said nothing.

“Ursula was nearly destroyed by Margot’s death. A terrible tragedy. Margot had such talent, such potential.”

“Margot was a sadist.”

“Oh, don’t think for a second I’ve forgotten your part in that ugly business. I know you helped the girl. Ursula knows it as well. The only reason you’re still breathing is because I forbade her to kill you.”

Lydia felt a quick, sinking sensation in her stomach.

“That’s why Ursula didn’t come to collect the book herself, back at the chateau,” she said, understanding at last. “You knew she wanted me dead, and I her. So, you forbade her, and sent the Gestapo instead.” Sybil smiled, as if she thought herself very clever indeed.

“They might have killed me just as easily as Ursula, you know.”

“They had very strict orders not to.”

Lydia stared. “And my friends?” Sybil’s smile faded. Lydia couldn’t imagine how she had never before realized what Sybil was. It seemed so plain now. “My God. You’re all the same. You, Ursula, Margot. You’re all monsters.”

Sybil tsked. “You still don’t understand.

You think Margot was cruel without reason, but she had a very difficult life.

Poor child killed her own family when she was seven years old because she didn’t understand her magic, and they were too frightened of her power to teach her.

A fate all too common among Forces, I’m afraid.

I saved her from herself. Trained her, gave her a purpose.

I was like a mother to her. To all of them. ”

Lydia felt the room go cold. She thought of Evelyn, and her gran, raising a child not so very different from Margot. Seven years old.

“What did she do to them?” she asked softly.

Sybil stared at her for a long moment. “She commanded them to drink lye.”

Lydia shuddered and said nothing.

“You met young Gerda, I believe. She was sent to keep an eye on you and never returned. I expect you had something to do with that too. Is she safe?”

“Last I saw her.”

Sybil frowned but didn’t pursue it further.

“The girl is a gifted Traveler, particularly for one so young. Until three years ago she was living in squalor, in one of the more Dickensian orphanages I’ve ever had the misfortune to see with my own eyes.

When she was six years old, Gerda’s father murdered her mother in cold blood, and then himself.

In his suicide note he accused the girl’s mother of being a witch. ”

“Sybil, none of this—”

“Ingrid was raised by religious zealots. Her mother suppressed her own powers, and beat Ingrid savagely for using hers. She’s blind in her right eye as a result.

Ursula’s mother tried suppressing her powers as well.

She went mad before Ursula was five years old.

Nearly starved the poor girl to death, then threw herself and her daughter into a river with their pockets full of stones.

Ursula only survived because her powers awakened while she was pinned to the bottom of that riverbed. ”

Lydia recalled Ursula’s memories from that night they’d battled at the academy—cold water all around her. Her lungs on fire, screaming for air. The terror she had felt.

“And would you like to know what became of my grandmother? What they did to her , these civilized Britons you fight for with such passion?” There was a quiet venom in Sybil’s voice that Lydia had never heard before.

“When I was about your age, a local boy nailed the door to her house shut, and burned it to the ground while she was asleep in her bed. She was an old woman by then. Her power had faded. There was nothing she could do to save herself.”

Sybil looked into Lydia’s eyes. Lydia waited until she couldn’t bear it for one more second, and looked away.

“You see, Lydia. Secrecy is a death sentence for witches. It breeds madness, and makes us weak. It turns us into nothing more than children’s stories, and emboldens the littlest of men, so that even the best of us aren’t safe in our own homes.

Each and every witch in this sisterhood understands firsthand the tragedy that follows a life lived in the shadows.

I understand it too. And I will do everything in my power to restore us to our former glory, if doing so means that not one more witch need suffer that fate ever again. ”

“But aligning yourself with that monster? Sacrificing millions of innocent lives? British lives, your own people—”

“ Witches are my people. I will do what is best for them. Always.”

Lydia leveled her gaze at Sybil. “What about Isadora? Did you do this for her?”

Sybil looked taken aback. “I grieved for Isadora.” Her voice shook. “You have no idea how difficult—”

“Don’t,” Lydia warned.

“It was necessary. For the good of—”

“You allowed an enemy witch inside the academy. You stood by and watched as she cut Isadora’s throat—”

“It’s very difficult to talk to you when you’re hysterical like this,” Sybil snapped.

“I did what I did for the academy. For you. So you could take your rightful place as grand mistress. Isadora would have ruined us all, she had no vision, no sense of what was possible, but you , Lydia, with the right guidance, the right mentorship…”

All at once Lydia understood. “You thought you could control me.”

Sybil’s mouth fell open. “No.”

“You did. You thought you could manipulate me. You knew you could never turn Isadora, but me …” Lydia stood, lifted to her feet by a rush of anger and disbelief. “Did you honestly believe I would abandon everything Isadora had worked for? To join you in this…this crusade? Why would I?”

Sybil stood now as well. “Lydia, think. With you leading the academy, and me growing our numbers within the Reich…”

“My God, you did. You thought I would just blindly follow you as you united the witches of Europe behind Adolf bloody Hitler. Why would I do that? Because I liked you? Because you were kind to me?”

“Great Mother, this fixation with Hitler.” Sybil’s tone was calm, infuriatingly so, as if she were trying to soothe an infant. “He doesn’t matter. He’s just a man. A means to an end.”

“But what he’s done —”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sybil said. And she smiled.

Lydia felt she would go mad if she listened to any more. The room seemed to spin around her, the bright sunlight setting her teeth on edge, making her see auras.

“What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sybil gazed at her tenderly. “I want you to join us.”

Lydia stared, stunned at the sheer audacity of Sybil’s words. “You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t need to decide now.” Sybil moved toward the door, her purple frock swishing in the unnatural silence.

“Take your time. Think about what I said. I believe once you’ve calmed down, you will begin to understand.

” She pressed her palm to the carved panel, and the door opened.

She stepped through, then seemed to remember something and reappeared.

She looked at Lydia, eyes glinting like a woman with a delicious surprise.

“Oh, darling, I almost forgot to tell you! Your mother is here.”