The Last Chance Hotel

by Nicki Thornton

  But there was no further sound of footsteps, all he could hear was Angelique’s dress rustling. But what was she doing? She had drifted out of view. And as Seth listened, he thought he heard a crackle like static electricity.

  He dared to move a little further down the stairs.

  She was standing right next to Seth’s favourite painting, a colour drawing of an owl, so lifelike Seth could imagine it coming alive and flying at night. She was feeling around the frame, her long, deft fingers going methodically around the edges.

  Then she took a step back and lifted the cane above her head. Seth thought she was going to launch it into the picture.

  He moved, his first instinct to protect the painting, but there was no time to grab the cane from her. He could only watch as the end of the cane crackled and a fierce jet of blue light that was as bright as Seth’s tunic shot out. Sapphire sparkles crept and hovered around the edges of the picture before seeming to melt away.

  Seth stood on the bottom stair, breathing so hard. What had just happened?

  Angelique Squerr said without turning, ‘All right, boy. Kingfisher’s gone. And if you’ve been watching me and think you might have seen something – my very strong advice would be to forget it. Unless you want me joining those saying you should be taken away in handcuffs.’

  14. A Connection

  Seth swallowed and stepped down into the lobby. ‘No, no, I haven’t been watching you. And I didn’t kill Dr Thallomius,’ he added hurriedly. ‘If you can help me at all, I’d really appreciate it.’

  She was writing in a small notebook covered in shiny red leather.

  Despite the glamour, the make-up and painted nails, one of the first things that struck Seth was that he reckoned she couldn’t be much older than him.

  Calling him boy was a bit much.

  ‘I need to quickly look around. They’ll be safe in that hotel lounge for about ten minutes. And I have questions you might be able to help with.’

  There was something about the way she said it that made Seth ask: ‘You’ve locked them in?’ He turned, expecting to hear shouts and hammering on the door. But all he saw was Nightshade slipping away.

  ‘No, I thought that might annoy them.’ Angelique’s nose wrinkled. ‘So I placed a confusion enchantment on the door. If they touch it they forget why they wanted to leave in the first place.’

  ‘Err,’ Seth gulped, feeling utterly bewildered. ‘I think a confusion enchantment on the door is . . . fine.’

  He watched, fascinated, as she ran her hands along the frame of a picture of a couple of horses who looked like they’d rather be somewhere else.

  ‘You called Dr Thallomius the Sorcerer General. When you say “sorcerer” – what do you mean exactly?’ he asked hesitantly.

  ‘Head of our governing body, the Elysee, yes, he runs the magical community – ran.’ She gulped and her face crumpled, just for a moment. Then she tossed her hair. ‘At one time, he was best known for his magical inventions, but he closed his workshop years ago and devoted his life to service of magical people. That’s the kind of man he was – he put the magical community first, always. Campaigned for magic to be a force for good.’

  Seth thought of the short, kindly gentleman with the white hair, a round tummy and twinkle in his eye. He hadn’t looked in the least like a VIP guest, let alone the head of the magical community. He’d looked like everyone’s favourite grandfather.

  ‘And when you say magical community?’

  She threw him a mistrustful look. ‘I know the magical world isn’t what it used to be, but you are seriously telling me you’ve never even heard of the Elysee?’

  ‘Erm,’ muttered Seth. ‘I’ve lived here my whole life.’ He finished with a shrug. ‘It’s kind of quiet out here. I haven’t heard of a lot of things.’

  He only just managed not to blurt out he’d always thought magic existed only in those fairy tales with witches and poisoned apples and elves helping shoemakers at night.

  She pointed with her cane, indicating that she expected him to accompany her up the narrow, twisted stairs. She marched ahead of him, stopping briefly to examine the picture of the tiger.

  He followed, reminding himself he had to focus on one important thing here – convincing everyone he had not killed Dr Thallomius. Could Angelique help him? Should he even trust her? What was she doing with that cane? She leant on it as she walked, but he wasn’t convinced that was the reason she carried it.

  ‘Has it really been so long since magical people were common?’ she sighed as they reached the guest-floor landing. ‘Healers, people you turned to in times of trouble. At one time, everyone knew magic as a force for good. Happy magic.’ She shook her long hair. ‘Now, what can you tell me about this place? How long have you lived here?’

  ‘All my life.’

  ‘Then you know this place better than anyone. You probably have all the answers.’ She smiled at him expectantly.

  Seth didn’t think he had any answers. He certainly had plenty of questions.

  ‘The Bunns are your parents?’ she went on as she peered behind an ugly vase.

  ‘No! My mother died when I was very young and my father worked here as a chef.’

  ‘Worked here? Where is he now?’

  ‘What is MagiCon?’ Seth asked, quickly putting a question of his own.

  ‘MagiCon – the Magical Constabulary . . . well, who do you think investigates crime in the magical community?’

  ‘Why was Mr Kingfisher so reluctant to call them?’

  ‘People do describe them as terrifying.’ She lifted her cane high and tapped it gently against one of the walls. ‘I suppose it might be intimidating being interrogated by magical people.’

  ‘Terrifying? And they’re coming here?’ Seth squeaked, wondering just what a terrifying magical interrogation would be like and realizing he was probably soon going to find out. ‘I really didn’t do it.’

  ‘I’d try not to worry.’

  Not worry? Seth was quickly adjusting to the news that there really was such thing as magic in the world, which was astonishing enough. And adjusting to the fact that he was accused of murdering the chief sorcerer in the land. And now he was about to undergo a magical interrogation – could anything possibly get worse?

  She turned and looked straight at him with eyes the colour of caramel, then lifted her cane again. This time, she rapped it against the wall hard.

  Before Seth could even begin to ask what she was doing, he was startled to hear a growl from the wall as if in answer. It started low, like oncoming thunder, then first one wall, then all the walls on the landing began to gently shake. The rumbling and vibration grew until plaster started crumbling on to Seth’s shoulders and he stared around him, fearful the hotel might start to collapse around their ears.

  15. Two Problems

  There was a loud snap like a lightning strike, then a low rumbling that sounded like a voice and just as Seth thought they should run, it all stopped.

  ‘What on earth was that?’ asked Seth, brushing plaster dust from his shoulders.

  Angelique merely wrinkled her nose. ‘The walls are trying to tell us something. Ever heard that before?’

  ‘A really scary rumbling like the walls are speaking? Definitely not. I would have remembered.’

  Seth’s brain was buzzing as he followed her. He was thinking of the moment earlier that afternoon when Dr Thallomius had touched the wall. There had been a noise then, hadn’t there, like the wall sighing? What did it mean?

  ‘You said the murdered man – Dr Thallomius – was once a magical inventor. Err . . . what exactly is a magical invention?’

  ‘Do you always have so many questions?’ She threw him a scornful look and tossed her hair impatiently. ‘You might have a teleport, that’s magic so people can travel easily. Or a teleglobe – a magical way of communicating.’ She looked at him as if trying to work out if he was too stupid to understand. ‘Most sorcerers just use the usual ways of doing magic.’ She turned a
nd must have seen his blank look because the hair was tossed again. ‘You know, like coming up with a charm, or you might create a potion to make people do things they didn’t necessarily set out to do.’

  Something made him think of that black book. That had been full of all sorts of things, not simply recipes, but weird scribbling, pictures and ideas he hadn’t understood. Strange things, the like of which he had never seen before. Like that page with the picture of a tiny cage flowing with light. ‘Would a magical invention be like a . . . a . . .’ He began to stutter as he put together his thoughts. ‘. . . a firefly cage or a—’

  He never got the chance to finish.

  Angelique had swung around and was advancing on Seth, her short red cape flying. She flicked up the end of her cane and pointed it to press on his neck like a dagger.

  ‘You spin me stories that you’ve never even heard of the magical community and then you come out with that!’ she snapped, her arm raised high, the cane pressing in harder.

  The only movement Seth could manage was to swivel his eyes to stay focused on the end of that cane. He would have swallowed, but didn’t dare.

  ‘What do you know about a firefly cage?’ Angelique’s eyes were blazing.

  ‘I . . . I . . .’ All he was aware of was that cane pressing in. ‘I . . . I think I overheard one of the guests. I don’t even know what it is.’ He closed his eyes.

  ‘A firefly cage? That is dangerous magic of the most sinister sort, Seth. If you want a word of advice, don’t mention that to anyone,’ she hissed. ‘Not if your defence is the line that you know nothing about magic.’ Angelique held the cane to his throat a few seconds longer, her eyes glinting dangerously, then dropped it back just enough to allow Seth to breathe.

  ‘It’s not a line,’ muttered Seth, rubbing his neck. ‘I know nothing about magic. What is one anyway?’ He was guessing it had nothing to do with the beautiful lightning bugs that lived in the forest. She had looked truly terrified.

  A shudder running through her, Angelique snapped the top of her cane shut. ‘You really don’t want to know. Sometimes magic can be . . .’ she paused and looked as if she was having difficulty finding just the right word ‘. . . some magic can be horrible.’

  Just for a moment, learning that magic was real had been a wondrous, fantastical discovery. Now Seth wasn’t so sure.

  ‘Won’t look good for your defence if Kingfisher finds you wandering about,’ said Angelique, pointing with her cane. ‘You probably need some help getting back into the cupboard.’

  ‘I can do it myself,’ said Seth.

  She followed him back downstairs anyway, this time the lobby was thankfully empty and he crawled into the darkness. Only hours ago, his life had seemed tough coping with Tiffany’s vile scheming. Now he was accused, not just of murder, but of murdering the most important sorcerer in the land.

  He would rather stay here and suffer at Tiffany’s evil hands for ever rather than be taken away with everyone believing he’d murdered Dr Thallomius, who had only been kind to Seth.

  But what was he going to do? He was way out of his depth here.

  ‘By the way, which guest mentioned a firefly cage?’ she asked before she shut him back into the darkness.

  She’d made an attempt to sound casual, but Seth knew she was really interested in the answer.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t remember.’

  ‘Well, Seth, I suggest you try just a bit harder to find some answers if you want to get yourself out of this mess. If you want my advice, find out how someone could have got into that locked dining room to poison the pudding. That’s the key. That’s how you save yourself.’ He heard her sigh. ‘But right now I have two problems.’

  Seth felt like answering that he was facing a lot more than two problems. He didn’t have a clue what she was up to, prodding into everything with that dangerous cane and making the walls rumble. He certainly didn’t trust her at all.

  ‘OK,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Anything I can help with?’

  ‘Well, Seth – you’ve lived here all your life and that puts me in a really awkward position.’

  ‘Sorry to hear it,’ he muttered.

  ‘Because it could well be that you are the only one who can possibly help me here. But I have to agree with Kingfisher – you, Seth, are definitely far and away the mostly likely person to have killed Dr Thallomius.’ And with that, she slammed the cupboard door and Seth was alone once more.

  16. He Wasn’t Ready

  It felt like only seconds later when there came the scrape of the key in the lock and Angelique peered into the darkness of the cupboard. ‘I said I’d come and fetch you. Someone from MagiCon has arrived. Your interrogation is about to begin.’

  ‘Already?’ Seth gulped and could not stop his insides quivering like blancmange.

  He followed, dragging his feet, trying to find a brave face, one that would conceal his terror. He really wasn’t ready for this. He needed to find something, anything, to say when they accused him of murdering Dr Thallomius.

  ‘Please,’ he said in a small voice as they reached the door to the tiny writing room adjoining the dining room. ‘Is there anyone you can think of who would want to kill Dr Thallomius?’

  Angelique turned as she gripped the door handle, her dark eyes flashed. Her answer was totally unexpected. ‘Well, lots of people, I suppose.’

  ‘Lots of people?’ echoed Seth. That lovely little old man who had reminded him of Father Christmas and had given him a gold coin? ‘Really? Like who?’

  ‘As head of the Elysee he was bringing radical reforms. It made him enemies.’

  ‘Enemies?’ Seth tried not to cling too tightly to this sliver of unexpected hope. ‘Anyone in particular?’ It was difficult to think of that short and kindly man as someone who had enemies. Could one of these enemies be here right now, inside the hotel?

  ‘Red Valerian has been causing heaps of trouble lately. He’s suspected of being behind the death of two sorcerers only last week. And his followers are growing. Just tell the truth, Seth. Sure you’ll be fine.’

  Angelique knocked on the door and opened it a crack to let those inside know Seth was waiting.

  She left the door just ajar and hovered, which she must have done deliberately because she didn’t even hide that she was putting her ear to the crack. Seth too, listened in. There were two voices.

  ‘And as you are in charge of Security for Dr Thallomius’s visit here,’ Seth heard a voice say. ‘You can help with something I’m most curious about. What on earth even brought him to this remote hotel?’

  ‘Part of Dr Thallomius’s recruitment drive to the Elysee,’ explained the second voice, which Seth instantly recognized as Kingfisher’s. ‘It was a meeting for the Prospect, sir. All the latest hopefuls of officially joining the Elysee are here.’

  Recruitment to the Elysee? Seth was slowly understanding. That list which had been in Dr Thallomius’s room had referred to the Prospect. So this was what was behind the secretive feast and the strange procedures? This was what had brought all the strange guests here to the Last Chance Hotel?

  They all wanted to be officially part of the magical world and they were going through some sort of application process?

  ‘But it’s murder, sir. Luckily we have a clear suspect. I wasn’t in favour of you being bothered,’ went on Kingfisher.

  ‘I’m not bothered.’

  ‘Poisoning by the kitchen boy. Could not be more straightforward.’

  ‘Glad to hear it. When you called, I was in the middle of the deciding set of a tennis match with Andreas Phist. Sounds like I can get back to it. So, this kitchen boy slipped a fatal poison into the dessert of the head of the Elysee and we can all go home. Have I got it right?’

  ‘Exactly. I have established the clear fact that he’s the only person who had the opportunity to introduce the fatal poison into Dr Thallomius’s food,’ explained Kingfisher. ‘So it simply must have been him. Let me arrest him now, you can get back to your tennis,’ said
Kingfisher smoothly. ‘Although won’t you have lost already?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened. It was my serve as well. This is excellent work, Mr Fishfinger. I shall put that in my report. No one else could possibly have done it, eh? What a most intriguing case. I guess we should meet this kitchen boy should we? This killer kitchen boy. Right. I am ready to meet our master criminal.’

  17. We Make Criminals Disappear

  The door opened to the smallest room in the hotel. Kingfisher dragged Seth in and shoved him into one of four chairs gathered around a desk under the only lamp in the room, which cast a dim light.

  Gregorian Kingfisher sat in the chair next to him. Seth darted a swift look at the person standing across the desk from them in the shadows, a man so tall he made the tiny writing room feel even smaller.

  The person who was going to interrogate him.

  Seth felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

  In the gloom, it was impossible to make out much more than a very tall man with a head of silvery-grey hair and a long face. It was difficult to read his expression, as the weak light from the lamp reflected off of his little round glasses.

  Seth gripped the arms of his chair as a long, uncomfortable silence developed. The tall man drummed his fingers on the desk.

  After what seemed like minutes had ticked by, Seth began to fear no one was even going to bother asking him questions. Everyone just thought he was guilty. The man from MagiCon wasn’t even going to give him a chance to explain.

  Then the finger-drumming stopped.

  ‘I’d like to hear more about this fascinatingly routine visit by Dr Thallomius,’ he said, addressing Kingfisher. ‘Routine. Ah yes, apart from the murder. Unless I’ve missed something, that doesn’t usually happen at a Prospect. What does Security say about that – ah, that’s you, isn’t it, Mr Fishfinger.’

  ‘My name is Kingfisher, sir, Gregorian Kingfisher.’

  ‘Of course it is. So, the moment the dessert left the kitchen it was taken to the dining room?’