Tristan looked around at the filthy conditions of the med camp. “That’s not going to be easy.”
Rowan turned to Breakfast. “See what you can get from Riley. We need nine, maybe ten, sterile metal rods that are slightly sharpened on one end and about that big.” Rowan held up his forefinger and thumb to indicate about two and a half inches. “Breakfast and Una are going to swipe the inside of their cheeks and collect some cells from the people who might be saved. Don’t collect cells from an ulcer. If you have any problems finding undamaged skin inside their mouths, let me know and we’ll take blood instead.”
“Got it,” Una said. Breakfast and Una left them to get what they needed from Riley.
“Tristan, you’re with me,” Rowan said. “We’ll set up for the ritual.”
“What do I do?” Lily asked.
“Gather your strength,” Rowan replied. He led her to one of the barrel fires and sat her down on a small stool beside it. He met her eyes and let his glamour drop for just a moment so she could see his true face. He looked worried. “You’re going to need it.”
Lily sat next to the fire, staring at the women, who were staring back at her. She could feel their distrust and awe. They hated witches, but at the same time they had spent their whole lives ruled by them. Old habits like respect and fear die hard. Their stares made Lily uncomfortable, but it didn’t take too long for Tristan to come back for her.
“We have a tent set up,” Tristan said. He handed Lily a white silk slip that was a little dingy and slightly frayed at the hem. “Rowan said to put this on and we’re to meet him there.”
“You want me to strip right here?” Lily said, looking around. There wasn’t much light down in the tunnels, but Lily was still exposed.
“This ain’t Nordstrom’s. I doubt they have fitting rooms,” Tristan replied, shrugging. Lily glared at him and he started looking around. “Wait,” he said. He picked a filthy tarp off the ground and held it up, blocking Lily against a wall.
“I don’t believe this,” Lily grumbled, and then stripped as quickly as she could behind the meager screen Tristan had created.
Tristan carried her clothes while Lily shoved her bare feet back into her unlaced boots. She clomped along behind him, her arms crossed over her nearly naked frame as they went to the tent.
It was already sweltering inside the small space. A fire blazed and a pot full of water rested on top of the glowing embers. Rowan’s shirt was off, and he was stirring something inside the pot. He used tongs to pull a now-sterilized sheet of metal out of the boiling water and laid it to dry by the fire.
“Get the tissue samples from Breakfast and Una,” Rowan told Tristan, who left Lily and Rowan in the tent alone together. Rowan was silent as he placed a single knife on a square of black silk in front of him. He looked at Lily.
“This is blood ritual,” he said quietly.
Lily swallowed and nodded. “What do I need to do?”
“Bleed,” he replied. His eyes rounded for a moment in apology before relaxing and sliding half shut into a calm that bordered on trance.
Rowan turned back and started pulling small glass jars out of the pot, laying them on top of the sterile metal sheet to cool. There were ten in all. Rowan moved the metal plate and glasses away from the fire and placed them between him and Lily.
Tristan and Una returned with ten metal rods, holding them carefully so the tips that had the tissue samples didn’t touch. Rowan placed each rod upright in the ten glass jars.
“Thank you, Una,” he said, dismissing her. She left the tent and Rowan turned to Tristan. “Take off your shirt. Sit behind Lily and support her. She’ll probably faint at some point,” he said in a deep and calm voice.