The room was completely quiet. I took a deep breath and continued.
“My husband, in an attempt to draw Benjamin into the open, went into Poland where he disappeared. We believe Benjamin has captured him and is holding him in a facility that served as a Nazi labor camp or research laboratory during the Second World War. The Knights of Lazarus have pledged to get my husband back, but the de Clermonts will need witches and daemons to come to our aid as well. Benjamin must be stopped.”
I looked around the room once more. Every person in it save Janet Gowdie was slack-jawed with amazement.
“Discussion? Or should we move straight to the vote?” I asked, eager to forstall a long debate.
After a long silence, the Congregation chamber was filled with an indignant clamor as the representatives began to shout questions at me and accusations at each other.
“Discussion it is,” I said.
You must eat something,” Gallowglass insisted, pressing a sandwich into my hand.
“I have to go back in there. The second vote will take place soon.” I pushed the sandwich away. Baldwin had, among his many other instructions, reminded me about the Congregation’s elaborate voting procedures: three votes on any motion, with discussion in between. It was normal for the votes to swing wildly from one position to the other as Congregation members considered—or pretended to consider—opposing views.
I lost the first vote, eight opposed and one—me—in favor. Some voted against me on procedural grounds, since Matthew and I had violated the covenant and the Congregation had already voted to uphold that ancient pact. Others voted it down because the scourge of blood rage threatened the health and safety of all warmbloods—daemon, human, and witch. Newspaper reports of the vampire murders were produced and read aloud. Tatiana objected to rescuing the witches of Chelm, who, she tearfully claimed, had cast a spell on her vacationing grandmother that made her break out in boils. No amount of explaining could convince Tatiana that she was actually thinking of Cheboksary, even though Rima procured aerial photographs to prove that Chelm was not a beachfront spot on the Volga.
“Is there word from Baldwin or Verin?” I asked. Isola della Stella suffered from poor cell-phone reception, and within the walls of Celestina the only way to catch a signal was by standing in the exposed center of the cloister in a steady downpour.
“None.” Gallowglass put a mug of tea in my hand and closed my fingers around it. “Drink.”
Worry for Matthew and impatience with the Congregation’s Byzantine rules and regulations made my stomach flip. I handed the mug back to Gallowglass, untouched.
“Don’t take the Congregation’s decision to heart, Auntie. My father always said that the first vote was all about posturing and that more often than not the second vote reversed the first.”
I picked up the Bodleian tote bag, nodded, and returned to the council chamber. The hostile looks I received from Gerbert and Domenico once I was inside made me wonder if Hugh had been an optimist when it came to Congregation politics.
“Blood rage!” Gerbert hissed, grabbing at my arm. “How did the de Clermonts keep this from us?”
“I don’t know, Gerbert,” I replied, shaking off his grip. “Ysabeau lived under your roof for weeks and you never discovered it.”
“It’s half past ten.” Sidonie von Borcke strode into the room. “We adjourn at midnight. Let’s conclude this sordid business and move on to more important matters—like our investigation of the Bishop family’s covenant violations.”
There was nothing more pressing than ridding the world of Benjamin but I bit my tongue and took my chair, resting the tote bag on the table in front of me. Domenico reached for it, still curious about its contents.
“Don’t.” I looked at him. Apparently my eyes spoke volumes, for he withdrew his hand quickly.
“So, Sidonie, am I to understand you’re calling the question?” I asked her abruptly. In spite of her calls for a quick resolution, she was proving to be a major impediment to the deliberations, drawing out every exchange with irrelevant detail until I was ready to scream.
“Not at all,” she huffed. “I merely wish us to consider the matter with proper efficiency.”
“I remain opposed to intervening in what is clearly a family problem,” Gerbert said. “Madame de Clermont’s proposal seeks to open this unfortunate matter to greater scrutiny. Already the Knights of Lazarus are on the scene and looking for her husband. It is best to let matters take their course.”
“And the blood rage?” It was the first time Satu had said anything with the exception of her “no” when called upon in the first vote.
“Blood rage is a matter for the vampires to handle. We will discipline the de Clermont family for their serious lapse in judgment and take appropriate measures to locate and exterminate all who might be infected.” Gerbert tented his fingers and looked around the table. “You can all rest easy on that score.”
“I agree with Gerbert. Furthermore, no scion can be established under a diseased sire,” Domenico said. “It’s unthinkable. Matthew Clairmont must be put to death, and all his children with him.” The vampire’s eyes gleamed.
Osamu raised his hand and waited to be recognized.
“Yes, Mr. Watanabe?” I nodded in his direction.
“What’s a weaver?” he asked. “And what do they have in common with vampires who have blood rage?”
“What makes you think they have anything in common?” Sidonie snapped.
“It’s only logical that blood-rage vampires and weaving witches have something in common. How could Diana and Matthew have had children otherwise?” Agatha looked at me expectantly. Before I could answer, Gerbert stood and loomed over me.
“Is that what Matthew discovered in the Book of Life?” he demanded. “Did you unearth a spell that joins the two species?”
“Sit down, Gerbert.” Janet had been knitting steadily for hours, looking up every now and again to make a judicious comment or smile benignly.
“The witch must answer!” Gerbert exclaimed. “What spell is at work here, and how did you perform it?”
“The answer is in the Book of Life.” I dragged the tote bag toward me and drew out the volume that had been hidden for so long in the Bodleian Library.
There were gasps of astonishment around the table.
“This is a trick,” Sidonie pronounced. She rose and made her way around the table. “If that is the witches’ lost book of spells, I demand to examine it.”
“It’s the vampire’s lost history,” Domenico growled as she went past his chair.