Page 21 of A Time of Witches

Unease coiled low in Sybil’s stomach. “Jacinda?”

There was no answer.

Sybil swept through the house, calling for the wayward teen, until the entire household rushed about with her name on their lips. Not that their efforts mattered. Sybil already knew the truth.

Jacinda was gone.

Not only was she outside the manor, but she was also not wearing her bracelet.

All that wild energy fueling her gifts could alter the weather, bend nature, and even change the course of the heavens. She once held night off by an hour, hanging the sun in the sky a full hour beyond its time.

The Witchfinder General was coming. He could be anywhere, and Jacinda was reckless. Careless.

If he caught her. If Jacinda were arrested. If she were convicted of witchcraft…

The frantic staccato of her heart left no room for breath and Sybil fought to keep her panic at bay.

Wherever Jacinda had gone, Sybil must find her.

Which meant leaving the house. Putting herself at risk.

But Sybil would do it.

She would sacrifice all for Jacinda.

Chapter Ten

Lilith

The electricity did not come back on in the next half hour, but Lilith’s laptop was able to connect to the internet through her hot spot to search for Brackenmere Manor.

BrackenmereManor.com was the first hit on Google.

That was easy.

Lilith clicked the link and was met with a clunky website. The neon-blue background featured a picture of a dilapidated three-story Tudor manor–style house. Though ivy crawled up the parchment-colored exterior and the house sagged in on itself, Lilith recognized the estate as if she’d been there.

She could recall the original glory so vividly with its stone path leading to the entrance, framed by manicured bushes shaped like giant gumdrops.

A lightheaded sensation swept over her, the same as when she was sucked into the dream. She paused for a steady breath, grounding herself like Essie always encouraged.

“I’m in Savannah,” Lilith said aloud, feeling silly. “I’m sitting in my living room on a hideous couch Mama bought when I was ten.”

She scowled at the floral couch.

It really was a crime against upholstery.

Essie was right, there was a lot more life to live now that Mama was gone. Maybe Lilith might start by replacing the furniture.

If she existed long enough.

Whatever that meant.

Still, her pulse raced a little faster. Because regardless of what “ceasing to exist” meant, it sounded ominous.

“I’m in Savannah,” Lilith repeated loudly to absolutely no one. “Sitting on this floral monstrosity I need to replace.”

She lowered her gaze to the website, this time without the disorienting thought of its former appearance.