Page 14 of A Resistance of Witches

Lydia had assumed so, although they had never discussed it directly. She’d even thought she wanted it. Now the prospect only filled her with dread. “I thought there would be more time. I can’t be grand mistress, not now. Not yet.”

Sybil smiled kindly. “Who else would you have lead us, hmm? Vivian? Helena?”

At this Lydia let out a snort.

“ ‘Cowardly hens,’ that’s what you called us, and right you were. None of us are fit to lead. None but you.”

“You could do it.”

Sybil shook her head. “I’m as bad as the rest. And I will live with that shame for the rest of my life. The best I can do now is try to make things right.”

Lydia looked at Sybil. “How?”

“I convinced the council to postpone the selection ceremony. As of this moment, the academy is still without a grand mistress. Vivian will serve as the interim head of the high council until a successor is chosen.”

Lydia let out a disgusted huff. “That hateful—”

Sybil made a quick tsking sound, silencing Lydia before she could say any more. She reached out and squeezed Lydia’s hand. “The selection ceremony for the new grand mistress will take place on Samhain. That gives you two weeks to form alliances on the council—”

“Sybil—”

“Isadora believed in you. She knew her time was running out, and she knew you would be the one to lead when she was gone.”

Lydia thought about that day three years ago. Isadora’s face had looked so tired and so regal as they’d pulled away from 10 Downing Street. She remembered what Isadora had said, aboutwhat would be required.Had Isadora known, even then, that she would never see the end of the war?

“I’m not ready,” Lydia whispered.

“No one is ever ready. But last night you proved yourself as ready as any witch in that room. More, in fact. I’ll support you. We all will.”

“No. I’mnot ready. Isadora’s been dead less than a day, and Kitty—” The sound of Kitty’s name seized in Lydia’s throat in a sudden, painful spasm. Sybil’s hand tightened around hers.Oh, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty.“Has anyone told her parents?”

“I did. First thing this morning.” Sybil looked as if she were still haunted by the memory of the conversation. Lydia wondered whether Kitty’s mother had screamed when she heard her daughter was dead, if her father had wept. She felt as if she could hear the sound of it inside her skull. Awful, throat-closing grief washed over her like waves, pushing her under so she couldn’t breathe.

“Does it ever stop?” Lydia gasped.

“No.” Sibyl looked down at her hands. “It comes and goes. Eventuallyit will begin to feel less unbearable. Maybe it will come over you only once a day, and then once a week. One day you’ll even think you’re free of it, but then you’ll see some…” She sighed, gesturing toward nothing in particular. “Some face that looks like hers, or you’ll smell her perfume, and then…” Sybil’s eyes shimmered slightly. “I couldn’t bear the smell of rosemary for a year after my grandmother died. One moment I’d be fine, and then…” She took a shaking breath and smiled weakly.

“I feel like I’m going mad.” Lydia felt the loss like a hot poker in her throat.

“You’re grieving,” Sybil said gently. “Give yourself time.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “I’ve decided I’m coming out of retirement. I’m taking over your classes.”

“What?”

“Only for a little while. You are an excellent teacher, Lydia. As good as me. Better. But you need time to heal. And to think about what comes next for you.”

“No, I can do it.” Lydia pressed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I can carry on teaching, really. I just—”

“It’s already decided. I taught those girls for forty years. I think I can manage a little while longer.”

Lydia wanted to argue, but there was no point. Sybil had made up her mind.

“Thank you, Sybil.”

“You can thank me by using this time to rest. And, Lydia—”

But Lydia already knew.Grand mistress.Terror surged up inside her at the thought of it. “Please don’t ask me to do this, Sybil.Please.”

“I’m sorry. But I have to.”

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