Page 119 of A Winding Wave of Magic
The receptionist ran the credit card and pressed a few more keys. Once a receipt was printed out, she dropped the swab into the water, where it promptly disappeared. The water boiled for a few more seconds then stilled before the wood enclosure slid back into place.
“You’re in Room 613,” she said. “Take the lift to the top floor, and it’s at the end of the hall. Shall we have your luggage brought up?”
“No, we’ll do it ourselves,” Jonathan said. “Thank you, Elsie.”
“No key?” I asked as we turned from the desk and pushed our luggage cart toward the old-fashioned elevators. I had been trying hard not to stare at the proceedings at the desk, though I had been tempted to quoteMacbeth.
“None needed,” Jonathan replied. “The doors are enchanted to be energy sensitive. The swab was needed for mine. The room will only recognize me until we leave tomorrow morning.”
“That’s convenient,” I said. “No need to worry about lost keys that way.”
“I suppose. Although if you decide to stay longer and forget to tell the front desk, it’s bloody impossible to get back in once it’s locked on you.”
The elevator doors opened, which I held back as Jonathan pushed our dolly into the compartment. I looked for a set of buttons or a crankshaft, but the wall only bore the same walnut-colored wainscoting that decorated the rest of the compartment. Of course. If the rooms didn’t need keys, why should the elevator need buttons?
“Six,” he said aloud, and the car began to move.
“So, why couldn’t I have access to the room?” I asked from my side of the cart.
My surfboard blocked Jonathan’s face, making only the tips of his sandy hair evident over the edge.
“It’s for your protection. The hotel says any evidence of guest energy is destroyed upon checkout, but I don’t think we can be too careful, under the circumstances.”
“What about yours?”
“I’ve been here dozens of times. If anyone thinks to track me, he’ll just think I’m on another routine trip in Dublin. Nothing special.”
He. Him. The memory of Caleb Lynch’s scowling, wrinkled face flashed along with an ominous thump of my heart. I shuddered, suddenly grateful for Jonathan’s guidance since I had none of my grandmother’s gifts for disappearing wherever I went.
“Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious, then, if a guest doesn’t want access to the room?” I wondered. “Especially if I’m already recognized as a seer?”
“I doubt it. She probably just thought you were a prostitute.”
“Shewhat?”
“High class, though. I doubt The Carson lets rooms by the hour.”
A pair of dancing, lime-colored eyes leered at me over the edge of my surfboard but disappeared when I threw a wad of tissue from my coat pocket.
“They say seers are good shags too,” he continued, chuckling. “Since they can See what you’re thinking, there’s no guesswork about what you’d want, hmm?”
The doors opened, and Jonathan scampered out before I could throw anything else at him. Thoughts of shadows were gone, and all I could think of was trying to land some sort of debris from my pocket on the back of Jonathan’s head.
“Well, come on, then, my clairvoyant little tart,” he called as he continued down the hall. “Or you’ll not earn your wages tonight.”
35
THE ROVING RAIDER
…for he could not understand, why nature should teach us to conceal what nature had given; that neither himself nor family were ashamed of any parts of their bodies; but, however, I might do as I pleased.
— JONATHAN SWIFT,GULLIVER’S TRAVELS
After a nap and a long bath, I left the hotel that evening with Jonathan as my escort. We needed food, and I wanted to walk around a bit before my solitary instincts got the best of me.
Clad in decidedly un-spring-like wool coats to ward off the fog, Twilight was setting in as we turned down a crooked alley off one of the main streets in the Old City. Between the flickering streetlamps and the growing shadows, I wondered if I wasn’t on a walk with Leo Bloom, straight out ofUlysses.
Jonathan stopped suddenly, nearly causing me to run into his back.
