Cora reached out and touched an edge of the oval. ‘And this is the lake?’
Batty, scurrying away, didn’t answer.
‘You’re going to show us where Helen is?’
Batty came back from a shelf, cupping an earthenware bowl.
Off in a corner, something creaked. Abilene flinched. She shot her eyes in the direction of the sound, and saw the rocking chair teetering. For just a moment, her mind was stunned by a memory of the hideous deformity they’d encountered one Halloween night a few years ago. In a chair in a corner. Unseen at first. Just like now.
Then she saw the snow-white cat crouching on the seat of the rocker.
She let out a shaky sigh of relief.
The others, as startled as she by the unexpected disturbance, also seemed glad to find nothing worse than a cat in the chair.
‘Amos,’ Batty informed her guests.
The cat switched its tail.
‘Figures,’ Finley said. ‘A witch, a cat.’ Smirking at Batty, she asked, ‘Do you know where Helen is? Have you seen her? Or are you just planning to divine for us?’
Abilene grimaced. Was Finley nuts? How could she talk this way to a lunatic?
‘I’ll know,’ Batty said, and placed the bowl on top of the map.
‘If this is gonna involve chicken heads…’
‘Can it!’ Abilene whispered. ‘Okay? Just cut it out.’
Finley tilted one corner of her mouth and rolled her eyes upward.
Vivian seemed to be in her own mind, ignoring the exchange, gazing across the table with narrowed eyes. Her lips were stretched back, baring her teeth.
Cora looked intense. As if she were scrutinizing Batty, wary but fascinated.
Abilene flinched as Batty reached around from behind and slapped the huge knife on the table in front of her.
‘Part y’flesh and give.’
Abilene twisted her head sideways and stared up at the wizened, whiskered face.
‘What?’
‘In the vessel.’
‘I don’t get it.’
Finley grinned. ‘I think you’re supposed to cut yourself and bleed in the bowl. That right, Batty?’
‘All ya.’
‘Whoa, boy. I knew this’d get queer.’
‘It’s the way.’
‘Might be your way. That’s why they call you Batty.’
‘Shut up!’ Cora snapped.
Finley flinched as if stunned by the loud rebuke. Face red, voice soft, she said, ‘You don’t believe in this stuff, do you?’
‘It’s worth a try.’
‘This androgynous loony tune wants us to cut ourselves.’
‘Stop it, Fin,’ Vivian said gendy. ‘I think we should do what Batty asks. If it helps us find Helen, that’s all that really matters.’
‘I want to find her as much as anyone. But going along with this crazy…’
Abilene snatched up the knife and slashed the edge of her left hand.
Finley gasped, ‘Shit!’
Abilene stretched out her arm in time for the blood to spill into the bowl. The wound stung, but didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. She watched the bright streamer of blood fall, heard quiet, plopping splashes.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. Batty’s hand.
‘Yer a shiny soul.’
She passed the knife to Finley, who sat to her right.
‘I’m sure,’ Finley muttered. She glanced at the others. She scowled at Abilene’s bleeding hand. Muttering, ‘We’ll probably end up with gangrene and lose our arms,’ she sliced herself. She reached out, and her hand joined Abilene’s above the bowl.
She passed the knife to Cora. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cora gashed her hand and put it over the bowl. She gave the knife to Vivian.
Vivian inspected her left arm as if searching for the best place to cut it. Then she settled, like the others, for the edge of her hand. As she slid the blade against it, her lips pursed and she murmured, ‘Ooooo.’
There was silence as they all sat around the table, their left arms outstretched, their blood splashing into the bowl.
Finley broke the silence.
‘Can’t wait to see what comes next.’
‘Nuff,’ Batty said.
They pulled in their arms.
‘I don’t suppose you provide bandages,’ Finley said.
Batty didn’t answer.
Abilene pressed her cut against her skirt. Blood seeped through the denim, hot against her thigh. Finley grabbed a handful of shirttail and clutched it to her wound. Cora’s hands were out of sight beneath the table, so Abilene couldn’t see what she was doing, but Vivian kept her arm far to the side and bent down low. She pulled off her right sock, then wrapped it around her left hand.
Batty stepped to the corner of the table between Abilene and Vivian, picked up the knife, then reached out and slid the bowl in front of Abilene.
‘Drink.’
‘Oh boy.’ From Finley.
Abilene stared down at the bright red fluid. She felt as if her brain was shrinking and going numb. Her cheeks tingled. Saliva flooded her mouth, the way it sometimes did when she was on the verge of vomiting.
She’d tasted blood before. Licking or sucking on tiny wounds after hurting herself. It wasn’t awful.
But it was only my own.
And it’s for Helen.
Gulping her saliva down, she lifted the bowl with her uninjured hand. She tilted it to her mouth, shut her eyes to avoid looking at the crimson fluid, and sipped. It rolled in, warm against her gums and tongue, thicker than she’d expected. Her throat squeezed shut. She forced herself to swallow.
She was about to lower the bowl when Batty said, ‘More.’
Quickly, she tipped the bowl for another drink. Too quickly. Too carelessly. Her trembling hand, not quite in control of the heavy bowl, flooded her mouth with blood. She gulped it down. She gagged. Her eyes brimmed with tears. But she didn’t vomit.
She passed the bowl to Finley.
‘This gonna turn us into vampires?’ Finley quipped.
‘Just drink some,’ Cora said.
Finley raised the bowl close to her face. ‘Through the teeth and over the gums, watch out, stomach - here it comes.’ She drank. She took two big gulps. As she swallowed, she had a frantic look in her eyes. A look that made Abilene think she might suddenly hurl the bowl away and scream.
Then Finley finished. She had a mustache like a kid who’d just polished off a glass of milk. But this mustache was red. She gave the bowl to Cora, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Cora took two sips of blood in the same way she had slit her hand - fast and determined. Then she sat very rigid for a moment. She shuddered. She passed the bowl to Vivian. She rubbed the shiny crimson from her
