“You need food and rest,” he said. “Tomorrow we can decide what you need to do next. My mother might have some ideas. She’s read the family journals, too. She and my dad are both teachers and know all kinds of things.” As long as his mother was there, Tory supposed she’d be safe. More tired by the minute, she got to her feet. The problems she’d faced at Lackland Abbey seemed trivial compared to the difficulties she faced now. “I hope she can help.” “She’s a better choice than the vicar or the police.” Nick led the way down the aisle. “Doorways work in both directions. If you can come through one way, you should be able to go back the other way.” Hoping he was right, she followed him outside, extinguishing the mage light as she left the building. As they turned into the road, she glanced back at the church. Voice low, she asked, “What happened to the stained glass windows?” “Lackland is on the front line for invasion, artillery, bombings—anything the Nazis might throw at us.
