revelation. And several of them had vowed to eat their way through every variety of sausage they could discover.
And then there was Schwarzwald ham. Ham was a rich man’s meat, back in America, especially where these folks were from. Beef was everyday food for them, they were surrounded by cattle. Pig . . . no.
But especially during Oktoberfest, pork was common, not only domestic pig but wild boar, and Black Forest Ham was a readily available specialty. The cowboys were . . . well, very happy.
“Where are we going for supper?” Giselle asked Rosa, as she closed the cupboard under the bed on her latest gift. They had both returned to her vardo after breakfast. Rosa was perched on the little pull-down seat and tapped her lips with a finger thoughtfully.
“Hmm, good question. We haven’t been to the Alpingarten yet, and the owners have come by several times asking me pointedly if you and I were going to visit.” Rosa licked her lips. “I’m told the spaetzel is as fluffy as a plate of clouds.”
“Oh, not a biergarten then?” Giselle grinned.
“Not one of the giant ones, no, a nice little tented version of their restaurant. I thought you might appreciate something other than sausages.” Rosa raised an eyebrow. “And appreciate eating with all the utensils, not just a knife and fork.”
“But I like sausages,” Giselle retorted.
“Sauerbraten mit spaetzel,” tempted Rosa, a little smile on her face.
“Oh!” Giselle exclaimed, her mouth watering at the mere thought. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“I’ll send word they can expect us then. You’ll have your sausages at luncheon. Kellermann just made an arrangement this morning with Stuck’s. They’re going to supply our luncheon from now on, on condition they can say so outside their tent and at their bierkeller when Oktoberfest is over.” Rosa laughed at Giselle’s expression of surprise. “Yes, yes, Kellermann has us endorsing restaurants now. I suspect if the show were to stay here instead of returning home, he’d have you endorsing soap and corsets. Honestly, Kellermann has taken to this sort of promotion as if he was born to . . . what’s the English word? Ah, ballyhoo.”
“He certainly takes good care of the company,” Giselle said, standing up. She felt her head, frowned at the looseness of her hair, and began to unbraid her it. “Time to cut this again. Have I got coals in the stove?”
Rosa checked. “All set. Shall we get this over with as quickly as we can?”
It took nearly an hour to get Giselle’s hair unbraided, cut and braided up again, and every scrap of it burned in the little stove that heated her vardo. Burning the hair in the stove was the only way to keep the entire wagon from stinking of burned hair, but the smell still wasn’t pleasant until Rosa tossed a couple of pinecones on the coals to take the stench out. The oddest thing was, the sylphs and pixies and even the zephyrs that loved sweet smells would flock to the chimney and act like cats in catnip when she burned her hair. There truly is no accounting for taste.
Giselle felt very sorry for Kellermann each time she had to do this—when he’d realized how fast her hair grew, he’d gotten a wild idea to sell locks of it as souvenirs, and the poor man had been jumped on by herself, Rosa, and Fox. “Put the hair of an Elemental Master out there for anyone to get his hands on?” Rosa had said, horrified at the very idea. “Why not just put Giselle up on an auction block and be done with it?”
“Uh—would it be that risky?” Kellermann had gulped.
“Yes!” all three of them had said, together. Then Giselle had explained how having her hair in his possession could allow any magician—particularly those practicing dark or blood magic—to quite literally control her. “From the moment I left the abbey,” she told him sternly. “I have made absolutely certain that every strand of my hair was accounted for and burned to ashes.”
“Oh . . .” Kellermann said faintly. “But it is such a pity . . . are you sure?”
“Yes,” they all three chorused, and that was that.
At least it wasn’t growing quite as fast as it used to. I wonder what Mother intended to do with all those long braids of it she had. As far as she knew, they were all still locked up in a chest in Mother’s room, back at the abbey. She hadn’t been in there since Mother died.