“Geomancy’s like earth astrology,” Liam says, when he sees her confused look.
“Well, not exactly,” Eduardo interjects.
“Close enough. And they use opium during it.”
“Opium? Why would they use opium?” Her thoughts race backward, snagging on “bad Aunt Emma,” and then Liam’s comment yesterday:Oliver wants to bring the Knox back a few decades, centuries maybe, to how it once was.
“They believe opium can unlock their minds, make them more open for the divination readings,” says Eduardo, with a wave of his hand, as if conjuring some magic.
Liam adds, “It might seem random, but it’s not. William Knox made his fortune in the opium trade, after all.”
Taylor tries to remember what opium even is. Is it smoked? Ingested? Injected?
“This is why we have the Knox symbol, with the top hat and opium pipe,” Eduardo says.
“You mean the top hat and flower?”
“People think it’s a flower. But it’s a curved opium pipe with a decorative opium bowl.”
“Oh.”Oh.The symbols tacked up on her fridge feel like they’ve taken on a whole new meaning. A sinister one. This at least answers her question: Opium is smoked, or can be.
“So, we’ll be working odd hours over the next few days,” says Liam. “Asked to do some strange errands—”
“Nother,” Jerry cuts in. “Just us.”
“True,” Eduardo says. “She’s still so new.”
Taylor resists rolling her eyes.
“What I was going to say, before O’Doyle interrupted me, is that you will likely not be asked to do these things,” Liam says. “The Knox scales down to essential personnel only. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you take a paid staycation and return next week.”
“Lucky you,” Jerry says.
“It is like our most ‘religious time’ here,” Eduardo explains.
“Hey, what do you think?” Liam asks. He slips into one of the hooded robes and swirls around, the cape billowing with air like a parachute.
“Oh, wait,” he says, and dips his head into an open box. When he reemerges, he’s wearing the black phoenix mask. He looks eerie, with just a pair of dark oval eyes and the small of his chin showing.
Eduardo shakes his head. “Not a good idea, Liam. If Rose catches you…”
As if on cue, they hear the familiar clap of her feet against the wooden foyer, and Liam barely manages to slip out of the attire before Rose enters the room. She is dressed up, for Rose: black pants and a white button-down shirt. Hair pinned back on one side with a thin silver barrette.Is that a dash of lipstick?
Rose pauses, as if sensing there has been mischief, but when she scans the room, she can’t find the evidence. Liam pushes his back firmly against the couch, the robe and mask stuffed into its crease. Taylor winces, thinking about the delicate feathers getting squashed.
“Let’s hurry up here,” she says briskly. “Liam, the butcher will be landing at four forty at Logan’s private Signature Aviation terminal. You will meet him there. Eduardo, I need you to oversee the table settings in the dining room. Jerry, I need you to take out all the garbage to the curb, these boxes as well as the trash from the kitchen—they will be coming to remove it shortly—and then you’ll be driving to New York to pick up the wine.” She pauses. “Taylor, you may excuse yourself by two o’clock.”
They all nod, and Rose’s mouth briefly twists into a smile, long enough for everyone to notice.
“Rose is in a good mood,” Jerry remarks, once she leaves.
“She loves this time of year,” Liam says. “It’s her favorite. Some people like Christmas, some like July Fourth, but give Rosea Knox initiation, and she’s a pig in shit.” He looks over to Taylor. “Do you want to grab a bottle of champagne from upstairs, in Canton’s? I feel like we all deserve a quick drink to mark another year of initiation starting. What do you say, Professor, O’Doyle, New Girl?”
Eduardo nods, while Jerry looks less certain.
“Sure,” Taylor replies. “Is there one you have in mind?”
“Behind the bar, there should be a bottle of Veuve already open in the fridge. And plastic cups in the cabinet next to the sink.”
