impresario looked startled. “It won’t take a minute. All I need is a pocketknife, a cup, and a hot coal.”
“Pocketknife’s here,” Cody said, fishing in a pocket of his trousers and bringing one out, handing it to her.
“There’s cups downstairs in the kitchen,” said Giselle. “I’ll get a coal.”
She already had a little brazier she used for incense that required a hot coal to burn up here in her room; the sylphs loved all sorts of incense, and she had brought it in from her vardo. She fished a coal small enough to fit in it from the stove with the tongs and dropped it in, carrying it over to the group. Rosa had directed them to sit on the floor in a circle.
“Put the coal there,” she said, pointing to the middle. As Giselle did so, and took her place in the space left vacant for her, Rosa stabbed her thumb with the smallest blade of the pocketknife and squeezed out a few drops of blood into the cup Kellermann had brought up. “Now all of you do the same, going clockwise around the circle.”
They did. When the cup came back to Rosa, she took it carefully in both hands and looked at them all earnestly.
“Are we all resolved to be of one mind in this undertaking?” she asked them solemnly.
They all nodded.
“And are we all resolved that we shall let no difference of opinion, no perceived insult, and no grievance break our bond?”
“Yes,” Giselle said firmly, prompting the others to answer likewise.
“Then in the name of the Powers of Light, in the names of the Great Ones of our Elements, and in the name of the Greatest One over all, let our good will and good hearts bind us together and let no evil tear us asunder!” Rosa intoned, holding her right hand over the cup. And when she took it away . . . the blood in the bottom was glowing as hot as the coal in the brazier.
“So let it be!” she said, prompting all of them to echo her exact words.
Then she poured the glowing blood over the coal.
Rosa had expected it to smell dreadful, like her hair burning. Or at least, to smell like cooked meat. But instead, the little puff of smoke when the blood hit the coal smelled . . . like incense.
“If you are expecting something dramatic,” Rosa said into the long silence that followed, “I am afraid that is as dramatic as it gets.”
Elfrida giggled, an unexpectedly girlish sound that made them all laugh, if a little nervously.
“It is well,” said Fox. “I think we must try to sleep. There is little that can be done until morning, and we must be ready to assist Rosa in her scrying the moment that the storm drops. At that moment, our enemies will be exhausted, and we will have our best chance to work without notice.”
“I think we should stand watches,” said Cody. “Thet way, the second th’ storm drops, th’ one standin’ watch kin wake ’tothers.”
“I need to go to the kitchen and put the spell on the oven now, before we start the morning bread,” said Elfrida. “And I will be awake at six in the morning to do the baking.”
Cody pulled out his watch. “Pshaw. It’s on’y two. I’ll stand the watch till four, wake up Kellermann, an’ he can stand till six, wake up Fox, an’ he can stand till eight, an’ wake me again. An when Kellermann goes t’bed he kin make sure Miz Elfrida’s awake.”
“How long do you think they can keep this storm going?” Fox asked Rosa.
Rosa shrugged. “Not longer than twelve hours, I think,” she said.
“All right then. Back t’our beds,” said Cody. “In twelve hours, for sure, we’ll have more to go on.”
Rosa and Giselle exchanged a wordless look. “If you three men don’t mind sleeping on the floor beneath us, the three of us can sleep up here,” Rosa said, and Giselle nodded.
“There should be blankets and cushions enough to make whoever isn’t using the bed itself comfortable,” Giselle added. “They’re stowed in the linen chests. I’m sure you can find them.”
“Well, I wasn’t gonna ask, but I’m thinkin’ that there’s a right good idea,” said Cody, as Fox and Kellermann nodded. “We’ll do that.”
“And tomorrow . . . as soon as the storm dies . . . we will find out what, exactly, we are up against, I hope.” Rosa replied, getting up and getting into bed.