Hotel Magnifique(45)

I nodded.

“Good.” He opened the door then hesitated. In a softer voice he added, “You might feel lonely, but I promise you’re not alone.”

With that, he left.

I sat there for a moment, allowing his last sentence to sink in. Then I composed myself and walked out. The room’s title was embossed on a plaque beside the door. La Suite Lune de Miel et étoiles.

The Honeymoon and Stars Suite.





There was a sharp knock at my door the next morning. I twisted my hair into a neat bun and turned the handle to find Béatrice standing in the hall, tapping her toe impatiently.

“I’ve already spoken with Chef. This morning, you’re coming with me. There’s a market at today’s destination and I’m in need of supplies.” She tossed me a ladies’ pink cocktail jacket. “Put this on.”

“You’re taking me outside?”

“I’m allowed an escort. And the last I checked you were in imminent need of some sunshine and fresh air.” Her lips curved up. “Don’t get used to it.”

Two whole days of going outside after being cooped up for weeks felt too good to be true, but I wasn’t about to complain. I put on the jacket and followed her to the lobby.

Today, the marble expanse was flush with guests coming and going. I started toward the front door, but Béatrice held me back.

“Wait just a moment,” she said, scanning along the perimeter.

I didn’t see Alastair anywhere. “Is everything all right?”

“I think so. But I’ve also never taken a kitchen worker with me outside before, so I’d rather not run into anyone who might find that unusual.”

It struck me as odd that Béatrice would risk her neck to bring me with her. She must feel guiltier about my demotion than I’d thought.

Together we walked toward the front. A worker held the door wide. We were nearly through when Béatrice came to an abrupt stop.

I turned. The twins flanked her, their sewn-shut eyes standing out against their pasty skin. Bel had told me Yrsa cut out their eyes long before she began replacing suminaires’ eyes with glass.

“Alastair didn’t give you permission to leave,” said one twin, who I assumed was Sido considering Sazerat never spoke.

“I left him a detailed note.” Béatrice’s hands shook as she pulled out a mangled faucet. “The Ode to a Fabled Forest Suite is getting a guest and the silly faucet decided to protest. I tried repairing it with my gears, but these mechanics are quite persnickety.” She flicked a bolt. “I don’t have the parts inside to fix it.”

When the twins remained silent, I added, “Doesn’t the ma?tre expect his guests to have running water?”

Béatrice kicked my ankle, but not before both twins’ eyes narrowed in unison. “That one isn’t allowed out.”

“The ma?tre permits me one escort.” Béatrice rattled the faucet. “We’ll be quick. Before a guest finds the hotel lacking.”

The twins faced each other in a seemingly silent conversation. Finally, Sido released Béatrice’s shoulder. “Two hours.”

“That won’t do,” Béatrice argued. “Three hours. What if I can’t find the proper part?”

“Two. Or we’ll come looking for you.” With that, they left us.

After being inside for weeks, two hours sounded like an eternity, but Béatrice didn’t share my enthusiasm.

She jerked me across the threshold. “I suppose two hours will have to be enough. Because we’re here.”

I looked around. Here stole my breath. A large square stretched before us lined with cobblestones and flanked by fountains adorned with nude statues. Beyond was a city landscape carved from pale blue stone.

This color reminded me of the agate stones Zosa would dig up around Durc. Except those were rough-hewn and mucky with barnacles, while this—god—this wasn’t any of those things.

“Pick up your jaw and move. The ma?tre will be out soon with invitations, and we don’t have much time.”

Béatrice was right. Just like in Durc, a crowd of folk who looked no different than the residents of the vieux quais gathered around the hotel.

After witnessing the chest shaped from pink urd yesterday, it was clear that Alastair must demand a staggering price from guests in order to buy his hotel access. That must be why I hadn’t seen a single guest inside who wasn’t ridiculously wealthy.

The thought stopped me in my tracks. Lack of wealth was a barrier to entry, I realized.

Everyone had a chance at winning an invitation. It was part of the draw, why the hotel attracted the crowds it did, and why all these people stood here now, their eyes filled with hope. Most of these people looked no wealthier than me.

In Durc, wealthy people like Bézier had won invitations over the years, but so had many poorer folk, and I’d never heard of a single person being turned away. There weren’t any poor guests inside the hotel that I’d seen. I didn’t understand how this could work. More people began to crowd around us.

“This way.” Béatrice dragged me to a shop at the edge of the square that sold fancy dresses and not faucet parts.

“Aren’t we supposed to be in a hurry?”

“There’s always time for a dress store,” she said, her attention landing on a lavish silver skirt. The shop girl noticed and pulled it down, holding it up to Béatrice’s waist until Béatrice shooed the girl away.