by Lisa Shearin
“Then how do you explain the half footprints?” I asked pointedly.
“I can’t. What we are seeing here should be impossible.”
“Does what happened here look like the work of one of your mirrors back home?”
“It does. However, to be used for travel, mirrors must be calibrated ahead of time, much like Kenan set up a portal to receive each guest and direct them here. Mirror travel involves two linked mirrors, with a mirror mage on each end to work the sending and destination mirrors, activating them, and then stabilizing them to enable the traveler to pass through safely. The mirrors can be hundreds or even thousands of miles apart, and the traveler can step into one and out the other much like stepping through an open door from one room to another.”
“There wasn’t a mirror mage waiting in this room,” Ian said. “At least not according to the footprints, unless levitation is also in their skill set.”
I didn’t think Rake was listening.
“This mirror is dead,” he murmured. “It’s impossible.”
It sounded like Rake didn’t even believe himself.
Chapter Twenty
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once said: “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”
Our problem was that we couldn’t eliminate the impossible.
I was so tired I had to struggle to think straight. “Okay, you’re saying this is impossible. I hear you. It sounds impossible to me, too. But say it’s not. With the ley lines running under this place, this hotel is like a magnet for magic. Could it . . . I don’t know, have warped things somehow?”
“Makenna, I bought this hotel nearly ten years ago. I have worked in it nearly continuously since that time.”
“Worked?”
“Due to the ley lines running through the bedrock under this building, it possesses an energy of its own. You’ve sensed it, I’m sure.”
I had.
“I was attracted by the architectural beauty and the latent magic present in the building. Long before your Europeans arrived here, Native American shamans recognized the power here. The hotel’s builder chose the location for the same reason.”
“And the builder was an elf mage, correct?”
“An elven mage most powerful.” Rake made an expression of distaste. “However, I needed to clean the building before I could work with it myself.”
“Because he was an elf, or because he was into freaky crap?”
“Both. The residue of his workings had sunk into and contaminated the stonework of the entire hotel. The mage devoted his time to summoning that which should never be called, especially by one ill-equipped to handle a visitation. He was powerful, but his arrogance was his ruin. He believed himself favored by the beings he summoned to the point of being granted immortality.”
“Since you’re the owner and he isn’t, I assume that didn’t work out so well for him?”
Rake nodded. “One night, he discovered how the beings he aspired to entrap and enslave to do his will felt about that arrangement. The workings of that night polluted this building all the way from the roof, where he attempted his final summoning, to the bedrock beneath the hotel’s footings.”
Ian whistled, and I was in full agreement. Negating that level of contamination had to have taken months, if not years.
“A bucket and a mop didn’t cut it, huh?” I asked.
“Hardly. When I had finished, I made a home for myself here. If I ever need to engage in serious spellcasting, I always do it from here.”
Ian snorted. “Considering the enemies you have, if this land is that powerful, I’d have thought you’d want to live here full-time.”
“You can’t feel the power of this place, can you?”
“No.”
“Be grateful that you can’t. Those who are here as guests for a short period of time feel invigorated by their stay. For me, sleeping here is virtually impossible. Let’s just say that, magically speaking, this building is rather talkative. And since I was the one to clean it, then put my own magical print on it, the building wants to talk to me. A lot.”
“Meaning what?” I asked.
“The building has more than energy; it has magical power of its own,” Rake said.
“Could someone have tapped into that to make those bukas bullet- and magic-proof?” Ian asked.
“No,” Rake said.
“Is that a ‘no, I don’t think so,’ or an ‘absolutely, no’?”
“Absolutely, no. The building’s magic would not have increased the bukas’ strength or invincibility. Nothing like any of this has happened in the ten years since I purchased the property. Since the hotel’s reopening, the majority of our guests have been supernaturals. Many are magic users, and a few possess mage-level talent. None have experienced an increase in power from the building or its location. An earth mage can tap into any ley line to augment their power. However, it would only be a temporary boost for a particular working, and it would not make them battlemagic- or bullet-proof.”
I slouched on the bed. “Then we’re back to square one.”
“Unfortunately, dear Makenna, we have never left square one.”
Unfortunate was right.
With the murder of the goblin lieutenant governor, Rake had Gethen post extra guards outside the rooms of the elven colonial governor and his staff, as well. The goblin and elf ambassadors were already under close watch.
Once again, I was grateful for Vivienne Sagadraco limiting the number of delegates allowed to attend the summit. It made for fewer people to guard, considering that we couldn’t exactly spare many of our commandos right now.
It’d been a busy night in the Regor Regency.
Sunrise was in less than two hours, and the place was hopping, both with increases of manifestations and annoyed guests. Those who wanted to sleep couldn’t, and those who wanted to party kept being interrupted.
The flying monkeys had quickly gotten bored with merely dive-bombing guests, and had turned violent. As a result, it was now open season on the Wicked Witch of the West’s minions, or whatever they were. Some had sought refuge from our more enterprising commandos in the ironwork that supported the hotel’s pyramidal skylight. The monkeys were nimble and quick flyers, but some of our commandos were duck hunters, and two of them had brought their bows to the summit. (Our folks believed in being prepared to take on or take down any kind of beastie with nefarious intentions.) They’d switched from guns to bows out of consideration for the hotel’s guests who were trying to sleep. These boys were having the time of their lives. One of them said this was better huntin’ than his last vacation, only with less beer.
The grimtogs had developed an obsession with dashing out from under furniture and clamping onto delegates’ legs. Screams just drew more of them. It was like ringing the freaking dinner bell. At least the grimtogs squealed when they attacked. It was like they got so excited they couldn’t help themselves, so at least potential victims got a little warning. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
I ran into Rolf in the lobby, and he gleefully told me that the dwarf delegation had their own little Circle of Life going. A grimtog would scuttle out of hiding, and a dwarf would impale it on a spear. They’d drop the carcasses in the leather pouches they’d taken to wearing on their belts. When the bags were full, they’d take them down to the kitchens, where Rake’s ogre chefs were filleting the little buggers and cooking up a dwarf delicacy for the victorious hunters’ breakfast.
Some of the manifestations vanished before they could be killed; others stayed and got themselves turned into breakfast. There was no rhyme or reason to why some stuck around while others were impervious to death and vanished on a whim.
I had to admit there was one upside to our situation. We didn’t need to operate under the radar.
No hiding weapons or talking in whispers.
With the number of incidences increasing, we’d dispensed with any attempt at a cover-up. It’d
made it easier to do our jobs since we didn’t have to sneak around, but easier didn’t equal more successful. We were no closer to finding out how the monsters were getting in, or why they were nearly impervious to either magic or bullets.
Hotel security was analyzing surveillance video to eliminate delegates and hotel staff from suspicion of being the lieutenant governor’s murderer and/or our rogue mirror mage.
The delegates who had come to the summit more for the fun to be had in New York than the business conducted in the meetings were real disappointed right about now.
They’d intended to put up with the meetings during the day because they had plans for the night, plans that had nothing to do with spending their evenings at the hotel. Rake had bent over backward in an attempt to provide entertainment, but it still paled compared to what the city that never sleeps had to offer.
I’d taken to carrying my paint Uzi in addition to my paint pistol, with plenty of extra ammo for both. I also had a handgun that used bullets, likewise with plenty of extra ammo. And to ensure that I felt warm and fuzzy, I’d added every bladed weapon I’d brought with me.
At this point, I was surprised I didn’t clank.
Though if I did clank, it would be a reassuring, comforting sound.
A passing Yerenn delegate gave me a thumbs-up. Considering that they reproduced with their fingers, it was either really friendly encouragement, or I’d just been flashed.
In addition to extra strength and resiliency, the creatures that had been popping up throughout the hotel had heightened senses. Like we needed to be locked in a hotel with monsters that had even more of an advantage over us. Even if I’d been creeping around here like a ninja, they would have heard, smelled, or sensed the air displacement. You couldn’t sneak up on them, but they sure as heck could sneak up on you. Just this morning two of the Norwegian commandos had been patrolling the hallway on the seventh floor, which after last night had been particularly active. The hall behind them had been empty. Then it hadn’t, and the only warning they’d had was the fishy smell before two scaled and finned humanoids (who were not delegates) had tried to turn them into Viking sushi.
After that, patrols went out in groups of four instead of two, and one had to be battlemage caliber. We were becoming increasingly irritated. Our people didn’t like it when something needed killing and one, it wouldn’t die, or two, it vanished before they could find a way to make it happen.
Sleep was but a distant dream for all of us.
We were having plenty of nightmares while awake.
Since I wasn’t gonna be sleeping anytime soon, I was on my way to the SPI dining room to see if there was coffee, plus eat some food if there was any to be found. I didn’t know how early Rake had told the kitchens to start serving up breakfast, but with the chefs getting creative with ingredients, I was gonna be even more careful about what I put on my plate from now on.
Kenji had come up from the security department to grab a quick bite to eat. Luckily for both of us, the breakfast buffet was being stocked early. Since it was four a.m., it was more of a continental type of deal, but there was life-giving coffee, and I’d never turn down a hot bagel.
Kenji fixed himself a bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and filled his travel mug with coffee. The thing held nearly half a gallon, and was more like a thermos with a sippy-cup lid.
Kenji sighed and sat down next to me. “I should take this back downstairs, but I need to stare at something other than a screen for five minutes.”
I knew our communications system being down was a sore topic for Kenji, but I had to ask. “How are the comms coming?”
He shook his head. “I’m still being actively blocked, and it’s pissing me off.”
“Sorry.” And I meant it. “That I asked, and that you can’t get your hands on this guy.”
Kenji arranged the salmon slices on his bagel. “At least I can still track where our commandos and agents are in the hotel. It’s not ideal, but it’s something. I’ll take it.” The edge of a smile appeared. “I got the delegate-tracking part of my program back up.”
I gave him a nudge. “Yay, you.”
“And I tweaked the program to read hotel employee badges, too.”
“I haven’t seen any staff wearing badges.”
“It’s those fancy gold nametags. It’s a sweet system they’ve got. Not only identifies each employee, it’s a key to unlock the door to any rooms or areas of the hotel they’re authorized to access. And it’s got a GPS. Clocks them in when they enter the hotel, clocks them out when they leave, and tracks their every step while they’re here. Gethen Nazar keeps track of everyone.” Kenji waggled his eyebrows. “And as of half an hour ago, I can, too.”
“I take it Gethen doesn’t know about your extracurricular activities?”
“Haven’t told him. Don’t plan to.”
“Wise man.”
“With everything going batshit crazy around here, I want every advantage for our people I can get. If things start to seriously go down the crapper, I want to know where everyone is in this place.”
“Good work and great idea. Though you might want to mention it to Ian. On the down low, of course. Being in charge of our security, he needs to know what you can do.”
Kenji nodded. “Will do. Gotta keep myself entertained in that closet Gethen calls my office. The last few hours—with the exception of the latest addition to the body count, of course—have been interesting.”
I swallowed a bite of bagel. Carbs, heavenly carbs. “I’m glad some of us are managing to have a good time.” I jerked my head toward the door and the atrium beyond. “The hunters are having fun. Where are you getting your giggles?”
“Watching and listening to some of the delegates get theirs.”
“Uh, do I want details?”
“Probably not. Argus and his team have bugged the hell out of this place. Even I’m impressed by their attention to detail. You wouldn’t believe where they’ve got bugs. Every nook and cranny in this place is ripe for watching and listening.”
“And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know any of it.”
“Oh, everybody’s safe in their rooms.” He paused and grinned. “Well, most everybody’s safe. Certain rooms and suites are set up for prime viewing and listening. I guess your goblin James Bond has to get his information from somewhere.”
“He’s not mine, and I’m not his.”
Kenji frowned. “I thought that—”
“Yeah, a lot of people thought that.” Including me. Right now, I didn’t know what to think.
A true friend, Kenji considerately took a sharp left away from the topic of my confusing love life. “A lot of what’s going on now is just your basic out-of-towners visiting a new and exciting city with new and exciting people. Some of the delegates think it’s fun to try new and exciting things with those people, especially if they aren’t from the same species.”
“Eww.”
“Yeah.” Kenji looked faintly queasy. “Some of what I saw and heard can’t be unseen or unheard, regardless of how badly I want to. However, I can confirm that the goblin governor and his lady friend—”
“They’re not friends,” I informed him.
“Then that makes what I saw and heard even more interesting. They were in their suite when Scur Derian was getting himself killed, so you can probably take them off your suspect list. Interesting side note, though: the governor’s convinced that Rake’s responsible for locking us in the hotel.”
“What? Why would they think that? Rake thinks Gremien’s lieutenant governor destroyed the hotel’s portal and killed his portal mage.”
“And the governor all but admitted his lieutenant was guilty as charged. Says the guy’s been trying to kill Gremien himself for the past month, and destroyed the portal and killed the mage to make sure he couldn’t escape this time.”
“That’s crazy.”
Kenji shrugged. “It’s what he believes.”
“What about Dagara Jakome?
Did she jump on the crazy train?”
“That’s the interesting part. She didn’t say a word the whole time, but when the governor left the room, she smiled. Creeped me the hell out. If you ask me, if that guy sleeps at all, he needs to do it with his eyes open.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The first full day of the Centennial Supernatural Summit dawned suspiciously quiet.
After sunrise, there were no further manifestations and no additional murders.
While both reprieves were welcome, I didn’t trust quiet. I’m a country girl, and where I come from, quiet in the middle of a ruckus just means somebody’s reloading.
Last night, mutant piranha had appeared in a delegate’s bathtub. This morning, showers had become the favored way to get clean. Others had opted for sink sponge baths, or nothing at all.
At least the worst had yet to happen—spiders or snakes in toilets.
No one had said it out loud, though they had to be thinking it. Personally, I had enough paranoia for everyone in that area.
The hotel had been completely booked for the summit, meaning we had a lot of ground to patrol. Each commando team had been given three floors to be responsible for. When (no longer if) an incident happened, a team was expected to deal with it themselves unless they were about to be completely overwhelmed. And if reinforcements were needed, only three agents from the team on the floors above and below could leave their assigned sector to help.
Events were happening with such regularity that leaving any part of the hotel unguarded wasn’t an option.
Fortunately for everyone trapped in the Regor Regency, not all of the delegates were worthless when it came to fighting.
The dwarves had been first, gleefully taking up arms against first the quickly multiplying grimtogs, then against anything that needed killing.
Vlad and his team were only too happy to help wherever they could, which was everywhere at any time. With the hotel encased in a pocket dimension, the younger team members didn’t need to worry about sunlight. As an added bonus, the blood of some of the monsters, like the flying monkeys, had turned out to be quite tasty and apparently contained all the nutrients vampires required not to get peckish. The last thing we needed were hangry vampires. The Jötunn were fond of the meat, and the vampires took care of the blood. A win-win.