Hotel Magnifique(77)

Hellas grunted in disbelief. “Surely Bel wouldn’t associate himself with a fool.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“You won’t make it ten blocks carrying that thing, and you’ll both have to return before the next midnight regardless.”

I ignored him and bent to lift the cage.

Hellas grumbled. He took a card and positioned it at the tip of his fingers. I expected him to flick it at my throat. Instead, he stepped over and placed it atop the metal bars. Paper leaves unspooled, cloaking the entire thing in white. “At least now you might make it past the lobby before you’re caught.”

I straightened, amazed Hellas bothered to lift a finger. Sweeping a white leaf aside, I stroked Zosa’s neck. “You have to be quiet,” I whispered, hoping she would understand. She was just a bird, but she settled down, tucking her head under her wing.

Hellas motioned for me to follow. “If you don’t come with me now, you won’t get another chance.”

I clutched the leaf-draped bars. “I’m ready.”

“Good. As soon as the ma?tre realizes you’re missing, he’ll send someone to look for you. Whatever you decide, I’d suggest walking as far as you can to the edge of the city and remaining there until you know what’s next. Luckily it’s an hour after midnight. Congratulations. You get a whole twenty-three hours before we move again.”

I started down the hall, pausing long enough to check the door to Alastair’s office, but it was locked, of course. I hugged Zosa tight to my chest until another thought struck.

“What is it?” Hellas asked.

“How am I supposed to walk through the front door with a cage?”

“Leave that to me. Stay in the shadows and wait for my trick. Then exit as swiftly as you can.”

“What trick?”

He fanned his cards, a wicked glint in his eyes. “If you’re as clever as I think you are, you’ll figure it out.”



* * *





    Chaos gripped the lobby. It was well into the night yet revelers were out whispering about the city beyond the door. The replicated view showcased a brocade of gas lamps giving way to a night sky bursting with pink-tinged stars. Bet it looked even lovelier from the moon window.

At the thought, I searched the floor, frantic, but I couldn’t see Bel anywhere. He’ll be all right, I told myself. Because if he wasn’t—

I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to think about what that would mean. My only solace was the fact that we were in Champilliers, and he made it happen.

Alastair stood in one corner, gesturing wildly to a group of doormen.

Hellas took the stage usually reserved for Bel. He wasn’t wearing his coat, but no one cared because the Botaniste was here to put on a show.

His silver hair spun around as he flicked out six red cards in a giant semicircle surrounding the stage. Guests gathered, but not too close.

Alastair straightened at the sight of Hellas. A steely expression came over his face and his sharp eyes scanned the room. Before he could see me, I ducked behind an orange tree.

Whatever Alastair thought didn’t matter because as soon as Hellas raised his hands in the air, the entire lobby pushed in around him, crowding Alastair against the far wall until I lost sight of him.

I had to leave now.

Once Hellas’s cards were in place, everyone stopped talking. The lobby was so quiet, you could pick out individual breaths. Hellas dared a glance at the shadow where I stood and raised a hand to his brow, in salute or signal, I didn’t know. Then he cracked a knuckle, opened his mouth, and roared.

Two hundred guests looked to the ground in unison. Certainly a diversion, I thought. I could barely look away as the cards grew roots. Snaking down, they parted the marble like seedlings in wet spring soil. After the roots took hold, pale plants shot up, growing into huge paper stalks the height of the ceiling itself, tangling with the chandeliers, and turning the entire lobby into a garden of vibrant red hearts.

The crowd erupted in applause.

Only then did I grip Zosa’s cage and slip out, right through the front door.





“Welcome to Elsewhere,” I whispered to Zosa. She peeked at me through the crumpled leaves that fell away as we walked.

In Durc after midnight, the city would fill with the bawdy songs of drunken sailors. It was the same here. Everywhere, people shouted Verdanniere nursery rhymes and littered the canals with sloppy laughter.

Terrified to remain still, I made my way through the city, stopping only to catch my breath. Hours passed as I tried to picture the map—that signature of magic in the center. But without the actual paper, I couldn’t tell north from south, or where I might be.

I didn’t know how Bel did it. The only clear image in my mind was the purple scalloped awning, but the dark night made it impossible to see much color.

My fingers soon grew blisters from the heavy cage, and the city changed around me. Pristine marble structures gave way to ramshackle buildings with crumbling eaves. I stopped to ask directions at a blue-shuttered inn. A peeling sign lacking any hint of inlaid pearl read HOTEL DU SOLEIL.

The door groaned as I opened it. It was nearly dawn. An old woman lifted her drool-covered cheek from the front desk and squinted at the burgeoning sunlight leaking through the window.

I described the purple scalloped awning. “Is there a place where suminaires might frequent? A shop?”