Hotel Magnifique(68)

A deep groove knotted the space between Bel’s eyebrows, and my anger shifted into something that felt like an ache. I didn’t know what to feel, but I certainly wasn’t ready to forgive him.

“I should have told you everything the moment you came inside,” he said.

“I’ll say.”

“Because of your magic, you became a risk to yourself without you knowing it. A self-centered experiment on my part.”

“That you tried to send home.”

Bel flinched.

Good. At least he felt some remorse. Even though he did it to keep me safe, it still stung. “I hope whatever you offered up to throw me out was extremely valuable.”

Bel grunted and shifted his weight, bringing his face closer to mine. The subtle waft of brass polish along with the salt of his sweat tangled in my nostrils. If I leaned an inch or two forward, our lips might brush.

At the thought, I reeled, furious at myself for thinking it. This was pointless.

“I have to get back.” I attempted to turn away, but Bel’s fingers smoothed around my arm. I tensed at his touch, but he didn’t let go. He forced me to face him.

“Listen. I didn’t want Alastair to discover what you were and turn you into his puppet like he does to everyone else. And now he has.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m still with Zosa.”

“You’re trapped like the rest of us. You’ll never go home.”

“She is my home.”

As the words rushed forth, I was taken aback by the resoluteness in my own voice . . . and the glaring truth of it. I also knew I couldn’t stand to be here another moment, this near to him. Whatever fragile thing might have been between us felt broken. He was a senseless distraction and I was losing precious time.

I tried to push past him, but his hand dropped from my arm to rest on the crook of my waist. When I gasped, he backed away, like I was a lit brazier. He muttered something incoherent, until he caught sight of my bundle.

“What’s that?” He tugged at it. The parchment poked out and his eyes grew wild. “Which artéfact did you choose?”

I fished the cosmolabe from my pocket and Bel swore.

“You know how it works?” I asked.

“For the most part. Alastair locked me in a room once. He made me hold that thing for hours. I was able to see hints of places skittering on the edges of my mind, but nothing substantial enough to draw a map with. I couldn’t get a good enough feel for it.” His eyes narrowed. “What has he asked you to draw a map to?”

“The signet ring,” I admitted. No point in keeping it a secret. I relayed the catalogue page with the ring’s entry. “The description says the ring can bestow and erase magic.”

Bel muttered a string of curses that would make an old man blush.

“He says he wants to use the ring for good,” I went on. “He thinks if it can bestow magic, it can also gift the long lives of suminaires to normal people.”

“And you believed him?”

“Do you think I’m a complete fool? Of course not. I don’t think he has any intention of giving away magic. But Bel, he threatened Zosa if I don’t draw a map to it.” I stared at my palm, picturing Zosa’s severed fingers. I blinked and blinked, but the bloody image wouldn’t leave me, like it was somehow seared on the underside of my eyelids. Then I pictured that catalogue page, the ring’s entry. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

Bel eyed me, skeptical. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

I cut him a dirty look. “For god’s sake, please just hear me out. The ring is also described to erase magic. If I drew a map to it tonight, what’s to stop you from hunting it down without Alastair ever knowing? What if we could use it to erase the magic in our contracts?”

He looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. “There’s no way to know if that would work. Most artéfacts are more nuanced. I doubt the ring is as simple as it sounds.” Bel’s expression darkened. “Did Alastair take you through that hall by his office?”

He’d taken me down a hall where three suminaires sat hunched over artéfacts. I assumed that was what Bel meant. I nodded.

“One uses a scrying bowl to see people across the world, another has a set of sticks that sometimes determines where we take the hotel, the third has metal letters that can answer certain questions. Nothing as direct as an artéfact that points to magic, but their artéfacts are all enough to keep them cooped up day and night. They’re all searching for that ring. It could be dangerous,” he said seriously. “Unless we uncover the real reason why Alastair wants it so badly, I don’t think you should draw a map to it.”

He didn’t get it. Except . . . “Why would it matter to you? You spend your days hunting down Alastair’s artéfacts.”

“I’m not foolish. I never bring an artéfact back if I get a feel for it and suspect it might hurt someone.”

“What about the ones you can’t get a feel for? Do you bring those back?”

“You don’t understand. I have to.”

“I understand perfectly. You help him because you have no choice. Now I have no choice. If you won’t help me track down the ring, will you at least tell me how to use the cosmolabe?” When he didn’t answer, I pushed my face dangerously close to his. “Tell me how to use it,” I demanded.