 From then on, people arrived each hour. There was a flutter at the side window, a rap on the front porch, a knock at the back. There were fey noises from the cellar. Autumn wind piped down the chimney throat, chanting. Mother filled the large crystal punch bowl with a scarlet fluid poured from the jugs Beyond had carried home. Father swept from room to room, lighting more tapers. Laura and Ellen hammered up more wolfsbane.