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The Hell’s Belles gave them the most competition. Asha was sharp that night, Nell answered a question about medieval siege weaponry with the specificity of an eyewitness. She brandished her scimitar above her head and took a bow, much to the delight of the crowd. Even Zara surprised everyone, including herself, by furnishing the correct answers in the artistic categories.

But Fortune’s Favor pulled ahead steadily and stayed there.

Vance Priest kept one hand in his pocket all night and hunched over his answers like he was protecting state secrets. Some time in the fourth round, Dan noticed the hand come out of the pocket. Vance’s ring was getting a workout. Sparks were flying. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. They landed in olive dishes and in beer steins.

Dan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Tom Horner had spied the blue sparks as well. He held out his hand to summon the offensive bit of jewelry and the ring flew off Vance’s finger and into Tom’s hand. Tom seized Vance’s game card and ripped it in half.

Shortly after that Vance collected his coat and slunk out the door without catching anyone’s eye. His absence for the rest of the night was hardly noted.

Tom announced Fortune’s Favor’s win to the room with considerable theatrical flair. The Hell’s Belles were on their feet immediately, Zara climbing on her chair to applaud. Fortune received the news favorably from her basket atop the trophy. She did not seem surprised in the slightest.

Afterward, while the room was still buzzing, the Belles came over to shake their hands.

“Fortune looks well tonight,” Asha said, glancing at the owl dozing on the mantel. “Good thing the two of you make such a strong team. She seems to have found her place there.”

Fortune opened her eyes and regarded Asha for a moment. She made a soft trilling sound to express her agreement, then went back to sleep.

Granny Luna arrived at half past nine with Dr. Dvita in tow, juggling a magnum of champagne and an extra-large cake box. She was dressed for Samhain, wearing a floral crown and a colorful sash that read “Queen of the Fairies.” Her platform shoes were an extra tall, extra blinged-out pair. She was making no attempt to hide her wings, given the occasion. The crowd parted for her in the way crowds usually do for royalty and full blood fairies.

She marched straight to the bar and set the box down, then froze when she saw Fortune on the mantel.

“Now that,” Luna proclaimed, “is a very good omen.” She clasped her hands together. “Oh, my lucky stars! Wisdom. Protection. The spirits of the worthy dead, keeping watch.” She gave Fortune a small reverent nod. “Old Electra who ran the teashop on this very spot would have agreed with me. She had a great fondness for owls.” She patted Dan’s cheek. “Fortune is truly smiling upon you tonight. You’re being watched over, Danny boy.”

Fortune opened one amber eye, acknowledging Luna, and closed it again.

“Now.” Luna untied the ribbon and the cake box fell open. It was decorated for Samhain with pumpkins, bats and three skeletal dancing figures made from fondant that might have been revelers or, knowing Luna, might have been a nod to something older and less easily named. “I’ve baked you a special cake for the opening,” she said. Then she noticed Tempest in her tiara standing close beside Dan and didn’t miss a beat. Her smile got just a bit slyer. “Although… What have we here? It looks like we’ve got a special birthday in the room as well?”

Dan smiled. “I think we can manage to celebrate both.”

“Indeed, we can! Tarquin?” Granny Luna snapped her fingers at Dr. Dvita. He joined her at the bar and handed her a package of striped birthday candles. “Such a lucky thing we came prepared!”

Dr Dvita winked at Priya, and she flashed her uncle a thanks by holding two thumbs up.

Dan stood behind his bar and took it all in, adding it to his memory the way you add a beloved book to a shelf, making sure it’s in a place you’ll be able to find it again.

Tempest with blue icing on her lips, laughing at something Priya had said. Maida and Arthur at their reconfigured table, the champagne having done Maida some good, her hand no longer covered by Arthur’s but reaching for a forkful of cake instead. Luna in a playful struggle with Dr. Dvita, as she tried to set her floral crown upon his head. Up on the mantel the squirrels had abandoned all pretense of dignity. They were sitting barefoot and drinking the last of the acorn ale from the heels of their own shoes. Fortune was observing them with a tolerant side-eye that expressed her opinion plainly, while also demonstrating the wisdom that some battles are not worth fighting.

He thought about Will. How much he would have loved this room tonight. Dan hoped that wherever he was, he was safe and warm.

He looked at the entire tableau and felt something he didn’t have an immediate word for. Not happiness exactly, though it was that too. More like the sensation of the pattern completing. A border found. The eye finally having somewhere to rest.

And then he got goosebumps.

The squirrels felt it too. Whatever it was. A temporal wrongness in the air, or a ripple of rightness so large it registered the same way. The acorn ale was forgotten and a tiny shoe dropped to the floor. The squirrel in the yellow frock popped upright like a tiny ninja, ears swiveling wide open like satellite dishes.

Fortune turned her whole head slowly toward the entrance.

The room went quiet with anticipation, though nobody knew what it was for. And then the door blew open.

THE GLASS ATLAS

Your map may show which way to go,

but the Glass Atlas knows the plan.

Trust the book that brought you here.

It’s known you since time began.