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Hotel Magnifique(66)

Author:Emily J. Taylor

The sight was too shocking for words, but the rational part of me also didn’t understand the logic of it. Alastair hoarded artéfacts. If these suminaires’ magic could be used safely, Alastair didn’t need to trap them all. And nothing explained why their feathers looked as dull as they did.

Something Maman had spoken of from time to time popped into my mind. A century ago, the Verdanniere crown commissioned experiments to better understand suminaire magic and prevent it from killing people. But they were promptly abandoned when most parties involved perished. Maman always referred to it as la semaine sombre, the dark week. It marred Verdanne’s illustrious nasty history.

Alastair could be doing something similar with these suminaires. Experimenting with magic. Bile rose in my throat at the thought, and I had to brace myself against a paper tree.

Then there was Issig chained inside the deep freeze. If his magic was so deadly, I didn’t see why he hadn’t been turned into a bird, when all of these others had. Maybe his condition excluded him from whatever Alastair was doing here, or maybe the truth was more horrible than I could imagine. Knowing Alastair, it was probably the latter.

I scanned each bird. Where are you?

A branch snapped. A pair of guests had wandered in alongside a leopard straining on its silk leash. Birds cawed.

I turned to Frigga. “Didn’t you lock the door?”

“Lock it? I’m never here longer than a handful of minutes. No one ever tries to come in.”

I rubbed my temple. I believed her, but I doubted there were often leopards with noses made to sniff out prey.

“We have to go. I’m not supposed to be in here now.” Frigga tugged my sleeve, but I batted her off.

“Give me another minute.”

Frantically, I searched, but there were too many birds to pick out one. If Zosa had flown out the window like the black bird, I didn’t know what I would do.

I was about to turn around when a golden bird shot toward me, landing in my outstretched hands. A sob of relief wracked my chest until she started pecking at my nose.

“Zosa, stop it.”

I tried to hold her back, but she wouldn’t listen. Her little beak tugged at my hair. I was confused and so dizzy with happiness, I nearly toppled over. With one high-pitched keen too big for her tiny body, Zosa flew off.

I turned to face Alastair.

Behind him, Yrsa led the guests with the leopard away.

Alastair wrapped his fingers around Frigga’s wrist. “You’ll come with me.” His face was pinched.

“It’s not Frigga’s fault,” Hellas shouted. A moment later, he stumbled out from the bushes. “That girl must have done it,” he snarled at me, then turned his attention to Frigga. There was fear in his eyes for his sister—a fear I hadn’t seen from him before.

This was it—what Bel had hinted at in his room; Frigga was Hellas’s reason for being hesitant to upset Alastair. Hellas did Alastair and Yrsa’s bidding in order to keep his sister safe. Bel probably didn’t understand his devotion, but I did. I understood exactly how Hellas felt.

“I’ll deal with the kitchen maid later,” Alastair said.

“But ma?tre—”

“Guests got inside the aviary. Was it your sister’s key or not that allowed them entrance?”

“Please,” Hellas begged.

“You know the rules,” Alastair said. “She’ll have to be punished.”

I pictured Frigga’s nest of hair spilling over the side of Yrsa’s table, just like Red’s. That swirl of not-milk. Minutes ago, Chef had sworn to report me to Alastair. I was already in trouble. I should say something—

But if anything happened to me, no one would look out for Zosa. Then Frigga started to cry, and I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

“I did it,” I said. “I took Frigga’s key and came in here. She was only trying to get it back.”

“Is it true?” Alastair asked Frigga.

Frigga looked at me. Say yes, I willed. When she nodded, Hellas let out a sharp exhale.

“Very well.” Alastair gripped my shoulder. “This way.”

It was eleven thirty when we reached the lobby. A stack of silver luggage stretched to the ceiling acting as a shelf for champagne. Guests took glasses and gathered to watch the hotel move. Bel leaned against a wall. He pushed away when he saw me and froze at the sight of Alastair.

Alastair didn’t notice Bel. He led me to a door on the first floor and whispered a command. The door opened to a plain guest suite with no title. “After you.”

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