“So this is the famous Faraway Inn,” the bronze-painted queen said, no emotion in her voice. She ran a finger over the wall and sniffed it. “It is older than I expected.” She studied the mirror, which today was a placid gray. “Shabbier.”
The blue queen hissed, “Do not be impolite.”
Cheerfully, Auntie Zee said, “I am older than I expected too. But time comes for us all.”
The bronze queen let out a judgmental “Hmm.”
The mirror displayed:You don’t have to stay.
The words twisted into a language that Calisa didn’t recognize, and the bronze queen startled. “Shabbyandunfriendly. This is not what I expected.”
Calisa glanced at Auntie Zee. What was she going to say? She couldn’t offer to upgrade their room—they already had the nicest one, and they hadn’t even seen it yet. Was she going to apologize for the mirror? Or for the state of the inn? Calisa and Jack had cleaned and repaired as much as they could, but the wallpaper was faded, the rug was frayed, and the wood on the stairs was chipped. There was no denying that the inn showed its age.
Calisa suddenly felt as if she’d failed. She hadn’t done enough. It wasn’t fit for royalty. So far, the other guests had seemed happy, but what if they overheard the queens and decided they agreed?
“Here is your next lesson in innkeeping,” Auntie Zee said conversationally to Calisa. Raising her voice, she asked the queens, “Is all not to your liking?”
Behind the queens, she saw the new words display on the mirror:I wish I could eat popcorn.Wondering why it would say that, Calisa looked from Auntie Zee to the queens then back again.
The blue-painted queen glanced wistfully at the mostly eaten cake displayed in the sitting room, sliced for anyone who was still hungry. Strawberry jam had oozed out onto the platter, tempting someone to stick their finger into it and scoop up the strawberry-ness with a dollop of the creamy frosting. “Perhaps we could—”
The bronze queen held up a hand to silence her. “It isnottoour liking. Do you know who we are?” She’d drawn herself up even taller, the top of her coiffed hair brushing the light fixture that hung from the center of the lobby.
“Yes,” Auntie Zee said evenly. “You are unwelcome.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“This inn is a sanctuary to those who need it and those who want it,” Auntie Zee said, her voice clipped but polite. “It has stood as such for decades. If it is not what you need or want, then I am encouraging you to leave. There will be no charge, and you may, of course, help yourself to tea and cake before you depart.”
She waskicking them out? Calisa felt her mouth drop open. She wouldn’t have guessed that was her next innkeeper lesson.
“You dare—” the bronze queen began.
“You are inmyrealm,” Auntie Zee said. “As host, I set the rules.”
Stiffly the bronze queen said, “I acknowledge your dominion.”
No wonder the mirror wanted popcorn. She looked at the queens, then at Auntie Zee, then back at the queens, ping-ponging between them as she waited to see who would speak next and what they would say.
The blue queen laid a hand on her coruler’s arm. “My dear, I wish to stay.”
“It is not suitable—” the bronze queen began.
“You can return home, if you desire,” the blue queen said softly. “I am in need of a respite, and, yes, the accommodations may be different from what we’re accustomed to, but Iwantdifferent.”
Auntie Zee held her pen over the logbook, neither writinga name nor crossing one out. “A place like this inn,” Auntie Zee said to Calisa, clearly not caring that the queens could hear her, “is what you allow it to be. It’s a deep breath, but you are still the one who must breathe deeply.”
A smile touched the blue queen’s lips.
The bronze queen rolled her eyes hard. “You know I cannot say no to you, but I ask you to reconsider—”
“Hush. Come have some cake with me.” Gently, the blue queen led her into the sitting room, joining the other guests. Calisa drifted into the entryway to watch.
By the fireplace, Mulligan was posed with one foot up on a stool as he recited what sounded like a Shakespeare sonnet to Zef. Kendra had claimed her usual conch seat, displacing the lovey-dovey couple with shark teeth onto a sofa, and was delicately eating a slice of cake while she dripped on the carpet. Her rest was officially over—her ocean needed her for the approaching hurricane season—but she’d returned for the celebration. She’d also already booked a stay for next summer, her usual room three.
As the two fae queens glided into the sitting room, the teapot poured them tea, and Jack scooted over to the cake to cut them slices. No one bowed or curtsied to them, but they were greeted warmly.
Aw, there was no screaming, the mirror pouted.
