I thought, I knew what I was doing. And this time, neither of us would lose.
All around the walls, the white stones Mother Morevna had laid waited, smeared with their mixture of cats’ blood and herbs, ready for her to say the word that would activate the trapdoor spell. To contain rather than to sicken this time. From there, the guards hanging just out of sight would descend and capture the thieves. They’d go to jail and we’d hold them there until after the Dust Soldiers had come, at which time we’d figure out something to do with them. Even if we had to stop the duel to do it, we’d come out looking good in the end. Trustworthy. Like good protectors.
Outside in the cleared-off space, the workmen were spilling Morton salt to make the circle that Asa and I would “duel” in. Mother Morevna appeared then from the upper floor. The woman in the room across from me had been absolutely crazy this morning. She’d thrown things against the wall and shouted in gleeful Spanish. ?Hoy! ?Hoy! Once or twice I even heard her throwing herself against the door, trying to escape. Then Mother Morevna, darkly elegant in her best dress, had gone up a few minutes ago and the room went silent.
“She’s asleep and will be asleep until morning,” said Mother Morevna, coming to stand beside me at the window. She looked out at the banners and ribbons, her face wrinkled with disdain. She didn’t mention Miss Ibarra again.
“With any luck, we’ll be through with this spectacle in an hour or two; then we can go on with business as usual,” she said.
“Business as usual,” I murmured in agreement, straightening my back and drawing myself up to her height.
Outside, the people were trickling in from all sides of town, dressed as well as they could be. They stood in twos and threes, congregating animatedly, and even Mother Morevna couldn’t ignore the buzz of excitement in the air. I knew then that many of the people would have come whether the duel had been mandatory or not.
Mr. Jameson walked by with three guards. He talked to them beneath the shadow of a windmill; then they scattered, heading up into their towers to wait. It was almost six o’clock. The dancers had already arrived and were getting ready for the jarabe tapatío number that they hadn’t gotten the chance to do at Mourning Night. The choir could be heard in the distance, behind the chicken houses, warming up with the third verse of “Shall We Gather at the River?”
Asa appeared then, soundlessly, shuffling out from between two houses as though he had just materialized out of thin air. He was wearing a gray linen suit and striped bow tie. His glasses slipped to the end of his nose as he read the sheet of paper he was holding in front of him. He’d attempted to slick his hair down, but it was fighting its way up again, especially in the back, giving him the look of a rooster who had woken up and decided to become a rather paranoid-looking boy. He came to the back door of the church and knocked quietly, looking over his shoulder for would-be miracle seekers out to tackle him to the ground. Mother Morevna opened the door for him, and I could have sworn I saw him shudder once before entering the church.
“Good evening to you, Mr. Skander,” Mother Morevna said stiffly. “It is good to see you looking well.”
“Same to you, ma’am,” he said. Then he nodded to me. “Sal.”
“I trust that the two of you will not vary from the order that you have given me and Mr. Jameson, correct?” she said to both of us, her eyes flicking from Asa to me to Asa to me again.
“Yes, ma’am,” we said together.
“Good,” she said. “Perhaps we can get all of this cleared up once and for all.”
We looked at each other, both equally nervous. Mrs. Anders came to the door then and knocked.
“We need a wind spell, ma’am,” she told Mother Morevna. “The wind is low, and it keeps blowing the choir girls’ skirts up.”
“I’ll be out in a moment,” she said, sending Mrs. Anders away. She turned to us. “I’ll leave the two of you to it. Do not do anything that differs from the plan, do you understand?” Here she looked at Asa. “Tread carefully, Mr. Skander. Tread carefully.”
He gulped.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. Mother Morevna gave us one last look and