Osiris's lips curled.
"Understood," he said. "I will make it perfect for you."
He crouched by the fire pit. The flames changed slightly, becoming shorter, thicker, and more even. The log crackling softened.
Cyrus and Kian carefully moved the heated stones to form a small circle. They placed the clay pot in the middle, then covered its sides and lid with the hot stones and some glowing embers. It was like building a small stone oven around the pot.
Zyran added dry leaves and small twigs above, letting them burn just enough to keep the heat constant.
Isabella stepped back and wiped sweat from her forehead, even though the room was cold.
Her heart thumped.
At first, nothing happened.
She could not see inside the pot. Only faint sounds of bubbling came from within, like something thick and shy was slowly changing.
The men tried to look calm.
