Chapter 39
Malek tore his gaze away from the doorway and back to the dance floor.
If he could stop worrying for three seconds, then he could see how beautiful everything in this museum really was.
The banquet hall had been split in half to allow for large tables with name cards and a dance floor with a live band.
The band all wore matching purple jackets and black pants and played electro-swing.
Only a handful of the already large crowd was dancing, while the rest of the guests mingled and ate finger food before the main meal began.
Malek, Natasha, and William all hung back from the floor and the tables, lining the walls instead.
Natasha tugged his arm a moment later. He’d been staring at the doorway yet again, but now had his attention focused on Amara and George as they rose from their seats.
They were both immaculately dressed, especially Amara in a green gown adorned with sequins down one side, making it seem as if she had a fin.
After a song from the electro-swing quartet finished, she took the mic and began to speak.
“Evening, everyone. Thank you for coming tonight. I’m very excited that in only two weeks, we will debut one of our best collections yet, The Forgotten King.
” Amara paused and repeated the words in perfect French.
“George and I met at an auction when we bid on the same item. That was when our first joint collection began, and when we married, our collections merged. I hate to sound so materialistic, but objects do have emotions attached to them. They can catalogue entire experiences better than a photograph, and they are so important to cultural legacy as well. Which is why, in addition to this being a fundraiser for Le Musée de l’histoire de Montréal, we ask you to tell us about The Forgotten King.
Tell us who you think he is, and maybe, one day, his story will actually be told. ”
Something in the base of Malek’s spine twisted.
Amara—and George—weren’t acting like typical scavengers.
But they had to be scavengers, right? They were baiting a trap by asking for the cultural history.
They were trying to get on his side so they could have more djinns at their disposal.
Malek tuned Amara out as she continued to speak, making jokes in both French and English that the crowds ate up.
Malek glanced at the doorway again, finding it empty. When a group of waiters and museum personnel whispered into walkie-talkies, his stomach lurched.
“Shouldn’t they be back by now?”
Natasha checked her phone. She glanced at a clock in the dance hall. “Yes.”
It was all they said for some time. When a group of museum personnel left the room in a hurry, Malek was ready to bolt after them.
He couldn’t let them get Caspar. Or Katja.
Or Ultima, who he had grown oh-so fond of the past few days.
When the crowd burst into laughter, Malek saw it as his time to leave.
He turned and walked out the doorway in spite of Natasha’s cries.
Before he had walked far, a hand touched the small of his back.
He turned around, ready to fight William or Natasha over his mission—or even one of the stray waiters—but only stared back at Caspar.
His face was red from exertion and his clothing looked a mess, but it was him.
Ultima zoomed up behind him, along with Katja.
“Oh, I thought you were gone,” Malek said, fighting the urge to hug him. “You have it?”
“I do.” Caspar’s eyes shimmered in gold as he patted the front of his jacket. “It’s heavy and so fucking ostentatious, but it’s yours. And I have something else. Something you won’t believe.”
“What is it?”
“Guys,” Ultima said. “Time is of the essence. Let’s celebrate when we’re in the van.”
Malek nodded, though his excitement was hard to stifle. He held Caspar’s hand in his own as they wandered through the museum and out the front door. Once they were within sight of the bus, he let out a breath.
“Is this it?” he said. “No flashing lights, no guard dogs, no…?”
“We already had our dog scare,” Ultima said. “But yes. This is the job. Check out your crown.”
Caspar held it out for Malek to take. The gold was thicker than he remembered, and as he put it on top of his head, it felt heavier than before.
But it was a good kind of heavy. His crown was his, no one else’s, and all his items were back in his possession.
The guitar and the microphone were on the bus, under a protection spell, and the ring was on Caspar.
Just being this close to the crown after years apart made Malek feel a little nauseated by its power.
“How does it feel?” Ultima asked.
Malek didn’t answer. He turned to Caspar and wrapped him in a hug that seemed to go on and on. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means.”
“Oh, I do,” Caspar said as he squeezed back. “It’s a future. Our future.”
Malek hugged back even tighter. Yes, it was their future. He liked the sound of that a lot.