by Sean Easley
I lift my sword and attempt to point it at her, but it’s so heavy. How am I supposed to fight with this thing?
She lunges, and I jump back, tripping over the enormous roots to land in a mounding wave of dye. Again, the MC’s sword slices into the wood, and embeds itself deep in roots near my hands. She rips it loose and raises it to strike again.
This time a thick ribbon of silky, black fabric sweeps in front of her and wraps around her wrist.
“Whoa,” Nico says as one of the suit’s coattails holds the MC’s sword arm up over her head. The coattails are longer than I’ve seen them, but then again he’s also standing in a pool of shaping dye.
I scramble to my feet and raise the Ledger sword alongside Nico.
The MC charges, but this time we’re both ready. Nico’s tails redirect her blade to meet my own, and the force of the two magics colliding knocks her a step back. The MC yanks her wrist free and strikes again, but my sword and Nico’s suit work together to divert her swing, forcing her to drive her blade deep into the tree. Very deep. I didn’t know she was that strong.
Her lip curls as she yanks the sword free, readying for another attack.
But before she can strike again, a figure plows into her from the side, tackling her to the ground. Dad. He wrestles the blade from her grasp. Maybe she’s not that strong after all.
Maybe the blade is that sharp.
I glance back to the cuts she’s made in the Vesima’s trunk. The flood of dye seems to be shifting toward it, as if the glowing liquid is drawn to the wound. A trickle runs in a reverse glimmering rivulet up the bark, and sinks into the cut.
A horn blares across the grounds, shaking the Vesima’s branches and piercing my eardrums. The lion is back, but now the admiral’s marines are pouring through the southern door in a wave of turquoise uniforms.
The soldiers raise their sandstone sabers to attack.
The admiral herself leads the charge. “All right, you big stone beastie,” she booms. “Why don’t you prowl over here and get a taste of the Fleet Marines!”
Elizabeth found her. Hopefully Admiral Dare has the last puzzle piece I need to shut the Hotel down and keep Mr. Stripe from stealing its secrets.
I look between the sword in my hand and the tree’s wounds that are drinking in the shaping dye. There’s so much dye though, and it’s moving so slowly. At this rate it will take too long for the dye to spread. I see what I must do, but . . .
“Dear boy,” the Blight says into my ear, “you’re not thinking of harming your mother just to hurt me, are you? What kind of person would even consider something like that? And besides, what good would it do? Soon my master will be here, and such a sacrifice will be for nothing.”
Not for nothing. It’ll be for them. To help everyone escape. For the maids, and the ambassadors, all the people that Stripe would harm if he got his hands on this place. For the mission kids, and the staff. For my family.
“Your plan won’t work,” the Blight whispers. “You can’t control this. You’ll try. You’ll fail. And then where will you be? Forgotten. Abandoned. Alone.”
I look the shadowy image dead in the eye. “You’re a liar,” I say. “And I’m never alone.”
A sword, glimmering and sharp and bearing the word HONNEUR down its flat rips through the inky Nico. The drawing stutters, and pen strokes unspool from its edges and pile into a heap of scribble on the dye-soaked ground.
The real Nico hoists the Maid Commander’s sword over his shoulder. “That thing didn’t look a bit like me. I’m not that short.”
“That won’t have killed it,” I tell him.
I turn to face the tree. To face my choice.
Thirteen years ago Mom sacrificed herself to save the Hotel and its people. She would want me to take the risk to save those people again—I know that—but can I do it? Can I really harm this tree that’s bound so tightly to my mother’s spirit, just for a chance to keep Stripe out? I could be giving up my last hope of ever getting her back, and I’m not sure that’s something I can do.
At least, not alone.
“I need your help,” I say, though I can’t bring myself to look Nico in the eye as I do. I don’t want him—or anyone—to see my tears when I tell him what I know must happen next. “These swords can cut deep into the tree—deep enough to let the tree drink up all this dye and spread it throughout the Hotel.”
“Cam,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically solemn.
“I can’t do this on my own,” I say, wiping my eyes. “Will you help me?”
31
Stay Rooted
My eyes are bleary as Nico and I hack away at the massive trunk of the Vesima tree. The Ledger sword slices through the wood far more easily than I would have expected. Like other magics, it seems to know what I intend and feed on my emotions to make it happen.
On the other side of the tree, Nico slices more quickly and decisively, cutting deeply with each blow of the MC’s blade.
I close my eyes and swing again, and feel the sword pass smoothly through the trunk. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I whisper. “I love you, but I know this is what you’d want.”
It is.
I pause. Did she . . .
I raise the sword once more, struggling against its weight, and swoosh the blade through the trunk.
You’ve done well, my sweet, sweet boy. I love you too.
“I wanted to know you,” I say, tears choking my voice.
You already know me. All of me is in you, and so much more. And you have others to be with you now.
I glance back at the chaos unraveling around us. Cass, pressing Gogo’s foot into the lion icon’s throat as a wave of gold transforms the lion back into jade. Dad, wielding garden tools alongside the admiral’s marines to hold back the maids. Even Bee is here now, buzzing through everyone with her sliver.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” I tell her.
A person alone is lost, but a person rooted in their friends always knows exactly where they are. They are your family too. Know them. Listen to the truths they tell. They have far more to offer than a mother stuck in a tree. But there is one thing I can still do for you.
Crack!
I jump back as the enormous trunk groans. Branches shift and moan. Leaves flutter in the air.
The fighting at the base of the hill pauses. Even the corrupted maids hold their breath as the Vesima shifts, the wood creaking loudly.
“It’s coming down!” Nico shouts.
“Over here!” Cass waves. Gogo grabs one of the herb tables and lifts it over her head, sending potted plants flying. “Take shelter under her!”
The Fleet Marines and Admiral Dare race for the gorilla as Cass removes her coin to transform Gogo into its statue form, still bearing the table over its head.
The trunk leans as gravity starts to take hold.
“Maids, too!” Cass yells, beckoning them to her. “We can get back to beating each other up in a minute.”
The remaining maids who haven’t yet been whisked away by Bee’s sliver quickly join the others under Gogo’s protection. The Blight’s influence can’t bend their fundamental bonds of Life and Nature so far that the maids won’t protect themselves from falling trees.
The trunk splits with a sickening groan, and Nico and I scramble out of the way as the once grand, powerful Vesima—the heart of the magnificent House known as The Hotel Between—comes crashing to the ground.
Branches snap and crack as they drive into the earth, shooting splinters and twigs out in a deafening explosion of broken wood. And then, the Greenhouse stills, save for the quiet flutter of dead leaves swirling through the air.
I step up onto the stump of the Vesima, amazed at how wide it is. The swords aren’t that long at all, yet those blades sliced through nearly twenty feet of wood on all sides, leaving only a splintery, broken outcropping at its center.
The shaping dye creeps up the sides of the stump, streaming slowly alongside me as I head for the tree’s center. One la
st thing to do to make sure the dye can travel to every part of the Hotel network as quickly as possible. The magic shapes the wielder. The wielder shapes the magic. And when it penetrates deep into the heart, that magic can shape every part.
I lift the Hotel sword—my sword, my magic—and drive it into the heart of the Vesima.
The ground quakes. Dye rises in a swirl of blue molecules around the shimmering sword. It spins together with the fallen leaves and hovers in the air before plunging into the stump where blade meets wood. My heart aches as I grab the still-flowing have-sack and hang it upside down from the sword’s hilt to pour what remains of the underground pool into the tree’s open wound.
“Good-bye, Mom.”
When I turn to face the Greenhouse, everyone is staring. Nico’s mouth hangs open. Dad watches with a white-knuckled grip on his garden hoe. Cass and Gogo, who is bound and flesh once more, are both crying. Gogo wipes sloppy tears with the back of her furry hand.
“Where are the maids?” I ask.
Cass shoots Bee a dirty look. “Someone slivered them when they ran for cover.”
Bee shrugs. “Hey, I got them to safety. I just did it my way. They’re enjoying a nice, refreshing dip in a mountain lake right about now.”
“And the Maid Commander?”
“I took care of her,” Dad says, sliding the sharpened pin he showed me in Germany into his pin-sleeve. He turns to face the admiral. “What now?”
Admiral Dare defers to me. “It’s your House, Cameron. We’re only here to help.”
My House.
I glance back at the stump and the sword, which is completely engulfed now in the flow of shaping dye. “We need to leave. This won’t have killed off the Blight. Not yet, at least—it’s spread too far. Stripe’s still coming, which means we have to close the Hotel. All of us. Together.”
• • •
A cool wind gusts through the Greenhouse door as we cross back into the Mezz. Nico carries the MC’s sword slung over his shoulder. That, combined with my pristine suit, makes him look large and in charge.
Meanwhile, I’m dressed in his dirty clothes and soaked in blue goop and look like a hobo.
The chaos that started in the Greenhouse has spilled into the Mezzanine, ranging all the way from the potted grove to the bouldering cliffs and the Mezz waterfalls. Only, it’s not people fighting off the blighted maids—it’s statues. Dozens of terra-cotta warriors attempt to subdue the maids with clay fists, while the maids strike and bind as many of the icon soldiers as they can.
Sana stands away from the fighting, her attention focused on her terra-cotta force. She must have swung by the Motor Pool on her way up from the Shaft.
“Looks like a party,” Nico says.
“The Blight’s fighting back,” I reply, noting the blackened roots climbing the sun-windows and wrapping through the potted grove.
“Yeah,” Cass says, “but look down there!”
She and Gogo are leaning over the balustrade overlooking the Courtyard, pointing together at the Shadedial Fountain. The fountain is overflowing again, but this time it’s not with sickly, stinky sludge. It’s the dye. Glowing, icy-blue liquid now flows from the marble tree’s white branches, spilling onto the ground, and spreading out across the Courtyard.
“It’s in the arches, too,” Dad says, motioning to the Greenhouse doors. The tangled roots glimmer as the dye flows through them, seeping all the way out to the knotted tips.
“The plan’s working,” I say, relieved. Wait. . . . We’re missing people. “Where’s Sev? Elizabeth, and the others?”
“We are here,” Sev’s voice calls. He, Elizabeth, and Orban emerge from the fake rocks near the bouldering wall. Sev’s riding in Cass’s wheelchair. I hope that just means he’s still healing, and not that he’s permanently injured.
Admiral Dare joins us too. “It appears that despite our best efforts, we are going to lose the Hotel.”
“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” Nico asks me.
“Yes,” I say, and face the admiral, “but that kind of depends on you.”
She cocks an eyebrow.
“In the Nightvine, you said the Key of Lost Things might make its way back to you.” I take a deep breath. This is the last piece I need to make sure Stripe never steps foot into our Hotel. “Do you have it back?”
Her disappointed brow tells me all I need to know.
She looks to Bee. “It was you who took it, was it not?”
“Yeah,” Bee says, “but Cass had it last.”
Gogo pulls Cass closer and glowers defensively.
“I don’t know what happened to it,” Cass says, giving her gorilla a pat on the arm. “It just vanished from my pocket.”
The admiral sighs. “That’s something that key does. It enjoys being lost. I lose it all the time at home. Most often I find it in the couch cushions.”
Out of my pocket. In the cushions.
I turn to Sev, seated in Cass’s wheelchair. “Look underneath you.”
“What?” he says, still drowsy from Countess Physiker’s medicine.
“In the chair,” I say. “Look in the cracks, next to the cushion.”
He runs his fingers along the edge of the seat and pulls out a glittering emerald key.
“Oh my gosh,” Cass says. Gogo facepalms dramatically.
“Admiral,” I say, taking the key from Sev, “I know this belongs to you, but do you mind if I borrow it for a little while longer?”
She smiles. “Please do. But be careful you don’t lose it again.” She pauses, considering. “Or if you do, that’s okay too. Maybe it’s time that the key found its way into some new hands.”
“Uh, also,” Nico says, raising a hand, “you have a fleet, right?”
The admiral looks him over. “Yes.”
“I . . . may have severed the Accommodation from the Hotel with all the ambassadors aboard, so I’m pretty sure they’re out there floating in the ocean somewhere.” He grins. “Some guy named Nagalla made a big fuss about us leaving them, and how when he was event coordinator, blah, blah, blah. I stopped listening. Anyway, you might find him in a lifeboat somewhere else.”
“Duly noted. We will find them.” She looks to me. “Am I to understand that a speedy escape is in order?”
“As soon as the dye makes its way through, I’m closing the Hotel,” I tell her. “We’re going to lock this place down and make sure Stripe can’t find it.”
“I see.” She pauses, considering. “Are you sure you want to do this? Those who locked us in the Nightvine weren’t able to find us again. I wouldn’t suggest doing this lightly.”
The letter from Agapios weighs like a boulder in my vest pocket. “It’s our best option. The tree may be gone, but there are still too many secrets here to let Stripe have access to any of it. Losing the Hotel is the only way I know to keep him out.”
“Then this is where we part ways, Mr. Kuhn.”
“What will you do?” Cass asks her.
“My hunt for Stripe has only begun, I think.” She gives me a salute. “Happy to have served with you all, no matter the outcome.”
“Likewise,” I say. “And, Admiral, stay safe. Now that the Blight is in the Nightvine . . .”
“Stripe will be looking for a friend of the Nightvine to invite him into it,” she says. “Rest assured he will not find one with me. Use the key. Lose this place as completely as you can.”
She places a fist to her heart and bows, then jogs away after her soldiers.
“I’m afraid I have to say good-bye for now as well,” Dad says, gripping my shoulder.
I spin to face him. “What?”
“Someone has to stay behind and care for those who remain. Someone who knows Stripe, and can keep things going without the Blight’s magic gaining hold over them. I can do that.”
“But we just got you back,” I say. “Let me stay instead.”
He places his callused hand on my cheek. “My boy,” he says, and my vision blurs. “We both know you c
an’t be the one. I know the responsibility that Agapios tasked you with. It can’t stay in this House.”
He means the deed. I have to leave in order to ensure that the deed, and the person who owns it, never fall into Stripe’s hands. “But there’s no telling what the Blight might do to you,” I say. “And there are so many maids, and the icons . . .”
“If you’re to find this place again, you’ll need an anchor. The Blight will prevent the Hotel from drawing you like it used to. Someone has to be your light here to guide you back.”
“You can’t,” I plead. “Cass, tell him he can’t.”
She sits tall and grabs Dad’s hand. “We’ll find you again,” she says. “We’re family. That’s what we do.”
He pulls us both in for a hug. “I am so proud of you both,” he says. “Stay rooted in your friends. They will take care of you. Now go. Find a way to cleanse this Blight. When you knock, I’ll be here.”
32
A Turn of the Screw
I direct our crew all the way back to Queenie’s hall. Cass blazes the trail on her Gogo, knocking aside any blighted icons, while Sana’s icon soldiers cut back the corrupted vines. Nico scouts ahead, the MC’s sword slung over his shoulder, checking to make sure we don’t cross paths with any maids. It isn’t easy, but with everyone doing their jobs, we’re able to push through.
Once everyone’s standing safely under the Nightvine’s pistachio sky, I turn to face the veil that connects back to the Hotel.
“How’s this supposed to work?” Nico asks.
“I’m not sure.” I place my hand on the wall, and I can feel the whole Hotel at once, just like at the bluestones, only stronger now that I understand the vine’s desire to connect everything.
What I sense through the veil saddens me, though. The Hotel is dying. I can feel it wheezing, barely clinging to its last breaths. I picture the admiral and her marines passing through the McMurdo Door, and Dad doing what he can to corral the maids and anyone else still inside. I can’t be certain, but I think I sense Mom, too, sending us her love.
But I also feel the Blight, gathering the Hotel close, like a dragon hoarding gold. Mine, it says. This place is mine. You can’t take it from me.