I kissed her damp hair. “I’m sure he could figure something out.”
* * *
We remained in the Ode to a Fabled Forest Suite for a handful of days. Zosa didn’t want to leave and I refused to leave her. Béatrice stopped in often, bringing us food along with information about everything that was happening in the hotel. She shared stories of people who had found each other after decades, and even people who had never met befriending each other. After a little coaxing, she even told me the story of how she wound up here.
Years ago, her father had tried to marry both Margot and Béatrice off separately to the same wealthy neighbor. But since Margot wasn’t interested in marrying and Béatrice wasn’t interested in men, they ran away to Champilliers and took jobs at Atelier Merveille. Margot played piano around town at night, while Béatrice worked on an act hoping to join her sister onstage. The hotel appeared during a holiday they both took up the coast. That was the last time she remembered seeing her sister. She was angry, of course, but beneath it, there was hope baked into all her future plans—a hope I hadn’t heard from her before. She wanted to visit Margot as soon as possible.
In fact, I’d learned that many of the trapped suminaires wanted to look for family members who might still be alive.
Béatrice also told me that she spoke at length to Issig about the explosion in the salon. Apparently his memories had rushed back the second I’d put the necklace on him. I could kiss that necklace. I didn’t want to think about what would have happened if it hadn’t worked.
Issig made sure it was returned to me the day after the explosion. I doubted it would ever again be as useful as it had been over the past few weeks, but that didn’t stop me from promptly clasping it back around my neck.
Truthfully, I liked the weight of it against my skin, how the subtle vibration of magic soothed me. I also appreciated how it served as a reminder of how lucky I’d been. Sometimes I found myself touching the necklace and replaying different outcomes in my mind, and thinking about what was lost.
Despite our best efforts, there were casualties that day. Others had died in the explosion besides Yrsa, but no one I knew well.
The twins were gone. Frigga spotted Sido running out the front door right after the blast, and no one knew what happened to Sazerat.
Bel came into our suite from time to time, but Zosa was always with me, so we never said more than a few stilted words. I didn’t want to know when he would leave for his home, and clearly he wasn’t ready to tell me.
After a week had passed, I convinced Zosa to wear something other than a dressing gown. She hid her damaged hand in strips of bedsheets as I took her into Champilliers.
We dipped inside patisseries, and perfumeries, then Atelier Merveille, where we sat amid piles of lace and ruffles, promptly leaving when a clerk brought in a selection of enormous multicolored wigs.
Afterward, I showed her the hotel I knew. I led her through the back of the kitchens. I wove her down the maze of service halls. Then I introduced her to King Zelig, who insisted on continuing to operate the lift, even though it clanked and stuttered louder than before.
Later, when Zosa was nestled in bed, she turned to me. “Is it really over?”
“For now,” I said, trying to convince myself of the same thing.
I reached up and ran a finger along a molten gold feather tucked behind my ear. I’d found it after the blast and couldn’t seem to part with it. Whatever came next, Zosa and I would face it together.
* * *
The following day, I found myself in the kitchens dressed in a soup-stained frock that had only appeared in the wardrobe of the Ode to a Fabled Forest Suite because Béatrice had put it there. I stood over a boiling copper pot helping Chef, whose real name was Gerde.
When my frock was thoroughly stuck to my back, I took off my apron and pulled down my hair. Then I crept up the many flights of stairs to the sixth-floor landing where Béatrice told me he might be.
Bel stood by himself at the moon window.
I wiped slick palms down my skirts and walked up beside him. For a few minutes, neither of us spoke. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I cleared my throat. “I heard Hellas found a large safe in Alastair’s suite stuffed with Skaadan urd.”
Bel nodded. “It’s a fortune.”
Béatrice had told me as much. She said a group of workers wanted to purchase building supplies, hire help, and repair the damage to the building. But money couldn’t repair everything.
“How are the suminaires doing?” I asked.