Hotel Magnifique(30)

Everything I knew about suminaires must be false. “What basic ways?”

“Healing is one. Outside of the hotel, some suminaires keep their magic from flaring up by healing themselves over and over.” He shrugged. “But I’ve never tried it because I’ve always had an artéfact close by.”

I couldn’t believe it. All that hatred and fear of magic. This whole time, artéfacts could have put everyone in the world at ease and no one knew they existed. “Wouldn’t it be better if Alastair spread the word about them? If people realized—”

“Not an option, unfortunately.” He plucked the dice from my hand. Then, in one swift movement, he took my wrist and flipped me around. I struggled. “For god’s sake. I’m not going to murder you.”

“You’re so reassuring.”

He laughed. “Just try to hold still.” My breath halted when he bent me forward. His hand slid down my arm to press my palm tight against the open atlas. “Feel that?” he asked against my neck.

My skin heated. I could feel his fingers encircling my wrist and the warmth radiating from him, but I doubted that was what he meant. I breathed in and focused my attention. Then I felt something else. Two distinct pinpricks of magic on the map’s surface tickled my palm. “What are they?”

“Magical signatures. Sometimes they represent a suminaire, but more likely, they’re artéfacts.” He dragged my hand along the page. I felt two more.

Four artéfacts.

“Alastair told me the method to craft them was lost over time. It involved powerful suminaires, blood, and other things he can’t figure out. So he doesn’t make his own, thank god. Luckily for him, they were scattered around the world when suminaires were either killed off or forced to flee from persecution, and there aren’t that many left.”

He released my wrist and paged through the atlas. I recognized a couple of maps of cities on the continent. The rest of the maps were foreign.

“The magical signatures on these maps show me roughly where each artéfact is hidden, but they’re still difficult to track down.”

“You track down artéfacts?”

“Tracked down these just this morning.” He shook the dice then shoved them in his pocket. “Besides using my key each midnight, it’s my job.” He flicked one of my damp curls. “Unlike you, I’m rather good at it.”

I glowered at him.

“Please just listen.” His eyes shifted to the atlas. “Somehow Alastair got his hands on a record of known artéfacts. He’s searching for a number of them. The magical signatures dictate where we move the hotel each night.”

I straightened at his words. Our destinations were all based on tracking down artéfacts.

“Is he looking for that ring?” I pointed to the scrap of paper on the table with the signet ring scribbled on it.

Bel grabbed the paper and stuffed it down his pocket. “Alastair is looking for many artéfacts.”

He didn’t seem pleased by that fact.

“If artéfacts are the easiest way to keep a suminaire’s magic from hurting others, wouldn’t finding them be a good thing? Alastair could take on more suminaires, keep everyone safe.”

“The staff certainly believe that.” There was something hidden beneath his words.

“But you don’t believe it.”

“Not entirely. Alastair is fanatical about safety, but beneath it all, I think he’s greedy. But it’s just a theory I have. Alastair doesn’t want suminaires outside the hotel collecting artéfacts themselves. He’s said there aren’t enough left in the world to go around.”

“How many are left?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at me, his lip caught between his teeth. The silence made me suddenly aware of how close he stood, how small the room was. “You know . . . I’m not exactly supposed to be telling you any of this.”

The way his eyes searched mine seemed significant somehow. My stomach danced with nerves. “Then why are you?”

“I’m not sure . . .” He looked down. “I guess I don’t want you to do anything you might regret.”

The way he said it—“Are you worried about me?”

“No,” he said too quickly, and my eyes widened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Incredible. He was worried about me. Which meant he cared enough to worry in the first place. I tucked that thought away to turn over later, because right now there were answers I still needed. “So are you going to tell me about the contracts, or do I have to throttle the information out of you?”

Bel’s expression flattened and he gave me a look I couldn’t read. Instantly, I was on edge. “The staff and guests’ contracts are opposites in most respects. The memory of this place disappears from the minds of guests once they check out.”

“Yeah? So what? That’s common knowledge.”

“True. But what’s not common knowledge is it’s the reverse for the staff. Once a new worker signs a staff contract and steps inside, their memory of home disappears.”

My eyes widened.

“It’s why the moon window doesn’t work for me.” He gave me a pitiful smile. “Congratulations. Because of my mistake, you were spared.”