Page 55 of Spring's Arcana
STAYING SEPARATELY
Downtown Akron, held under snowy siege, had no shortage of places to sleep overnight. Nat supposed she should be grateful she wasn’t on a lumbering continental bus, although a train ride might have been nice. Flying would be better, but good luck affording that.
It wasn’t a Motel 6 or a Holiday Inn; it wasn’t a Marriott or Hilton or Four Seasons. It wasn’t even a tiny, practically nameless mom-and-pop cash-by-the-hour. Instead, the black car growled through ice-rimed streets and whipped aside into a paved alley turning into cobblestones under wide gleaming tires, and Nat didn’t let out a terrified shriek this time because she was getting almost used to his driving.
Either that, or she was too busy keeping her own bladder locked up, considering she was halfway to renal failure. It was an open question.
The cobbles rattled the entire car; Dmitri let out a sharp yelp of laughter as he snapped on the brakes, bringing them to a thump-banging stop in front of a long red awning before a frowning brick façade. Old-fashioned gaslamps—and they were actualgaslamps, trapped flames flickering merrily in each glass cage—cast roseate circles through intensifying snow. The icy pellets were swelling into honest-to-gosh snowflakes, and when the engine stopped its rumble Nat was suddenly very aware of being in a confined space with a man who probably wanted her dead.
A trio of uniformed males—valet, bellboy, and what she could only assume was security—looked blankly at the car, wearingidentical customer-service expressions; all three had lantern-jawed faces and blank, pale eyes despite the variances in skin tone. Crimson serge on the valet and bellboy gave them a faintly military air, and their pillbox hats were both tilted at exactly the same jaunty angle. Behind them, the bruiser looming in a black suit and no coat despite the freezing temperature touched his ear, the raw slash of his mouth moving with little bullet-words.
Oh, boy. “Is this a divinity hotel?”Hilton for the God Squad?There was even a dim sort of amusement in thinking about one or two of the more ruler-happy nuns getting a load of this, as the kids in high school used to say.
“Said I’d take you somewhere nice.” Dmitri tossed an empty pop bottle into the backseat; every time he did that, she flinched. A quick glance showed nothing but a few scattered, unopened containers back there; of course he’d have a magical litterbag. “Lot of trouble for one littlezaika,I hope you realize.”
“I could just go on my own.” She reached for the door handle; his fingers covered her shoulder and bit into heavy wool.
“You think you get away from me?” He gave a quick yank; her fingers fell away from the handle. “Sit still. I open door, I am gentleman.”
“Yeah. Sure.” But her words were lost; he was already out on his side, tossing a small glittering keychain to the valet. Nat scrambled to grab her backpack from the rear seat, knocking over a bag of Doritos—ugh, how could he eat that crap? He probably wouldn’t want dinner after stuffing himself all day.
That was fine with her. Nat’s stomach was a walnut-sized ball of anxiety; she couldn’t imagine it relaxing enough to down one of the protein bars tucked in her faithful old schoolbag.
The gangster opened her door and extended a hand as if collecting her from a limousine, but Nat slid free of the car on her own, suppressing a groan. This was going to be an awful trip.
“—time since your last visit, sir.” The security guy’s voice was a flat, colorless rumble.
“Hope they kept the bar open for me.” Dmitri even offered Nat his arm, but she stood very still, clutching her backpack and eyeing thelarge glass revolving door. It moved lazily, like a combine thresher or steamboat’s paddle wheel, and the idea that the building was a giant monster looking to slowly digest whatever was so foolish as to step inside didn’t seem outlandish at all. “Eh,zaika. Come on, you gonna get a cold.”
I might almost prefer it.
“Drozdova.” The security guy actually bowed, indicating the revolving door with a massive, beefy hand gloved in black leather. “The Elysium is honored by your presence. Please, enter in peace, and rest with us.”
She shot a distrustful glance at Dmitri, but he was no help, just standing there like he expected her to take his arm and know what to say. “Thank you,” she managed. “It’s my first time, I hope I don’t mess anything up.”
“Impossible.” A thin, creaking smile infected the security man’s craggy face, and the bellboy hovered anxiously, obviously expecting there to be more luggage. “The Elysium is most accommodating, ma’am.”
“Long as you don’t break thepeace.” Dmitri snorted a laugh, making a brisk movement with his elbow, but she ignored him. “Truce inside the walls, and all that. Come on,zaika.”
Nat, despite her misgivings, hitched her backpack onto her shoulder, and the revolving door behaved just like any other she’d ever been forced to go through. The foyer was a vast expanse of white marble, tables with brass vases holding sprays of fresh flowers. A gas insert fireplace the size of a Buick crackled merrily; a wall of smoked glass along one side imperfectly occluded a long bar crowded with half-seen forms, candlelight, and a mutter of conversation. Red carpet thick enough to lose a quarter in ran along likely lines of travel, and there were two concierge desks holding trios of uniformed staff in natty black and white, all examining the new arrivals with interest.
Nat felt distinctly underdressed, but then again, she had ever since walking into de Winter’s office. Maybe she should have kept Coco’s green confection.
The front desk was a massive mahogany affair, its face carved like a reed-choked river; Nat could swear she saw the plants movewith the wood’s grain, sharp edges whispering. A tall, cavernous, copper-skinned man, his shaved head gleaming, adjusted bright silver pince-nez on a high proud nose; his suit was so dark it was almost purple and a subtle sheen lingered in the fabric. “Mr. Konets,” he intoned as they came into range, a wall of wooden cubbyholes behind him and his reflection moving on the glass-polished counter. “Welcome back. And Mademoiselle Drozdova, welcome to the Elysium—it is still mademoiselle, is it not?”
Oh, Christ have mercy. Nat managed a nod. Her throat had gone dry. They knew her name. Of course the gangster could have called ahead, or de Winter could have.
But… divinities. And magic.
“Eh,zaika,this Mr. Priest.” For once, the gangster didn’t sound mocking, just amused. “Little girl don’t even know her own strength. You want to tell her the rules, or should I?”
“I believe that is my prerogative.” The man’s expression didn’t change, but his tone grew thinner, if that were possible. “The Elysium is open to all divinities, principalities, powers, and demigods; we request that any feuds or nonconsensual violence be left outside. The basement is where you will find the Ring, the subbasement is for conveyance storage, the bar is open at any hour, and the exercise facilities are upon the third floor. We have a wide range of amenities; you will find a booklet upon the nightstand in your room. I assume you are staying separately?”
“No,” Dmitri said, a “Yes,” bolted from Nat’s mouth at the same moment, and Mr. Priest—the name had to be a joke, but he didn’t look like a man who had much of a sense of humor—simply regarded them both, eyebrows slightly raised and nose fractionally wrinkled like he smelled something just a tad objectionable but was too well-mannered to give any further indication of the fact.
“Yes,” the gangster finally said, after observing Nat carefully in his peripheral vision. “But I warn you,zaika,you try to run—”
“Will you stop threatening me?” All Nat’s social training tried to make her feel guilty for what Mom would callcausing a scene,but for God’s sake—and how bleakly funny was that particular phrase right now—she was fucking tired of a lot of things, and Dima’snastiness was one of them. “I promised, didn’t I? But okay. Whatever he says, Mr. Priest. I’m sorry I don’t know the right etiquette, but it’s been a really long day.” She attempted a gracious smile, but it felt masklike and strange.
