“What do we do now?” Dude paced back and forth near his bedroll. “So, what if the killer knows I like to drink my coffee black, knows I like to play Monopoly, whatever—what do we do now?”
“We should examine the room,” Plum suggested. “Look for any other dangerous areas or potential deadly situations.”
“I can’t stay in here with that body,” Shelley moaned.
“Okay, listen.” Plum held up her hands and waited for everyone to get quiet. “We move to a different room. Which room is around this size?”
“The ballroom,” Warix answered. “It’s where the server is, I saw it earlier. The ballroom’s mostly empty!”
“Okay.” Plum nodded. “We take the sodas and our beds.” She glanced at Sofia. “And Henrietta, of course,” Plum said.
“Naturally,” Sofia said, holding the sleeping chicken tighter to her body.
“We go set up in the ballroom,” Plum continued. “We stick together. Nothing else has changed.”
“Except for Sean,” Cici quipped, but it wasn’t a disagreement, Plum decided. Just frazzled nerves.
“We search the room, we barricade ourselves in there, we make sure we’re not near anything hazardous,” Marlowe said.
“Right,” Plum said. “And we wait for the morning.”
“The boat.” The deep frown lines on Jude’s forehead eased. “Then we all leave on the boat.”
“We’ll all go to the police together once we get back to Saint Vitus,” Sofia said.
“Does everyone agree?” Plum asked, looking at each person in turn.
Dude nodded. Warix shrugged agreement. Jalen nodded. Cici sighed and shook her head, but finally said, “Yes.”
Shelley had already begun gathering her things.
Together, Plum, Sofia, and Marlowe gathered their bedding.
Sofia opened a small chest and found a heavy cut-velvet shawl. Henrietta squawked when Sofia wrapped it tightly over her wings and under her feet, and then knotted it at her chest. But the minute Sofia had picked up the chicken-bundle again, the hen settled back to sleep.
“Good idea,” Marlowe told Sofia, nodding at the bundled bird.
Sofia shrugged. “I figured it might keep her calm while we sleep, kind of like a weighted blanket.”
“I could use one of those right about now,” Plum said.
“No kidding,” Marlowe agreed.
Together the group walked across the atrium and through the double doors of the large ballroom. Heavy gilt mirrors hung on the wall, scattering the amber light of wall sconces and two glittering chandeliers.
“They’re not exactly Phantom of the Opera–sized,” Marlowe said, pointing at the chandeliers, “but best not set up under them anyway.”
“Yes, and avoid the mirrors,” Warix said. He was already unrolling his blanket and pillow behind the doors in another corner.
They all spaced themselves around the room, most of them setting up in a scattered row in front of the large windows. Warix set up his pallet next to the small server and wireless router, which sat on the floor near the door to the hall.
Sofia settled down next to their window, Marlowe next to her and Plum on the inside of the room. Henrietta gave a short series of clucks, then closed her eyes when Sofia lay back next to the hen. The black hen’s beak started grinding softly—a contented noise—and rather comforting, Plum decided.
There wasn’t much more conversation as they all settled down for the night. Again. By unspoken agreement, they left the wall sconces on.
“Maybe that’s all,” Marlowe whispered to the two other girls lying on the floor with her.
“What do you mean?” Sofia asked.
Marlowe’s blue-green eyes glittered in the semi-dark. Her answering whisper was urgent with hope. “Maybe no one else has to die.”