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“Such a pleasure to be able to have a night at the Plaza Hotel,” Morgenstern said to Mr. Webber. “So kind of you to put me here.”
“Well,” Mr. Webber said. “It was the least I could do.”
Cassie’s eyes were fixed on the package on the table. It looked like a book wrapped in brown paper. A book about the size of the Book of Doors.
“Mmm,” Morgenstern said. “It makes me wonder why this book is quite so important. You fly me down here at short notice. Put me up in this lovely, lovely place.” He gestured at the room around them, just as a waiter appeared at his shoulder. “Champagne for my friends,” Morgenstern said, and the waiter scurried away again.
“Well,” Mr. Webber said. “We don’t know if there is anything special about this book at all, do we? That is why you are here, so we can ascertain if it is what I am looking for.”
“And what is it?” Morgenstern asked.
“Is that it?” Cassie asked, interrupting the flow, pointing at the package on the table.
Morgenstern sighed, a sound of annoyance. Cassie’s eyes flicked to Mr. Webber and he gave her a reproachful look, all but saying:Let me do this.
“Who is this girl?” Morgenstern asked.
“Now, Morgenstern,” Mr. Webber said, pulling himself up slightly in his seat. “You are here at my expense, as my guest. Let’s not be rude to my colleague. Show us the book so we can determine if it is what I am looking for or not. If it is, you will be very richly rewarded, I assure you.”
Morgenstern made a big deal of thinking about it, pouting slightly as he sipped his champagne, and then waiting while the waiter placed two more glasses on the table, and poured drinks for both Cassie and Mr. Webber.
Cassie wanted to scream. She wanted to swipe everything off the table and send it shattering to the floor. She wanted to grab the book and tear the paper from it. She wanted the Book of Doors.
“Very well,” Morgenstern said sulkily. He pushed the book toward Mr. Webber with one delicate finger.
“Where did you say you found it?” Mr. Webber asked, as he picked up the book to pass to Cassie.
“Romania,” Morgenstern said, watching as the book changed hands. He sipped his champagne and Cassie tore the paper off the book quickly, drawing the gazes of some of the people sitting around them.
She saw the leather cover of the book beneath the paper and her heart fluttered and her hands shook. It looked like the Book of Doors, and everything around her faded into the background: the noise, the people, Morgenstern’s chatter, and Mr. Webber nodding politely as he watched what she was doing.
She tore off more of the paper, revealing the spine, and still it looked like the Book of Doors.
“Is it...?” she murmured to herself.
More paper torn, and then the wrapping fell to the floor between her legs like autumn leaves, and Cassie was holding a book...thebook...
She grasped the edges with trembling hands and opened it hurriedly, desperate to see those sketches, the scribbled words.
She saw text, a jumble of black ink.
“It’s full of complete nonsense,” she heard Morgenstern say, his tone dismissive, and she had never wanted to slap anyone more.
And then her eyes settled on the text and made sense of it, and her breath stopped in her chest and the whole world seemed to freeze.
She saw text she didn’t understand, but she recognized the letters. She saw sentences that were obviously written by a human hand, perhaps in Romanian or some other European language.
“Maybe...” she murmured, a desperate plea.
She flicked to more pages, looking for images, sketches, for things that she knew were inside the Book of Doors.
And then her heart plummeted as disappointment opened up a vast chasm in front of her. She stared numbly at the book that was not the Book of Doors and she hated everything and everyone in the world.
“Cassie?” Mr. Webber asked, his voice puncturing her thoughts like a pin to a balloon.
When she looked at him and shook her head, there were tears in her eyes.
It took Cassie days to get over the disappointment. Mr. Webber apologized several times, and every time she waved it away, because he had nothing to apologize for.
