Chapter Twenty #2
Frowning, Kendra enunciated as if Calisa were incapable of understanding English: “My portal, which I need to pass through a minimum of once a week, as Auntie Zee well knows, is not functioning. It is an ordinary closet, no matter how many times I close and open the door, and this is simply unacceptable.”
That…did sound unacceptable.
And like a potentially very bad problem.
Also, again, she was gushing water, which was definitely a very, very bad problem.
She thought of Jack’s father and how the door he’d passed through had never opened onto a realm again.
What if the portal in room three was permanently closed?
What if Kendra couldn’t return to her home? “Show me?” Calisa asked.
Pivoting, Kendra strode down the stairs.
Calisa held on to the railing. The stairs were slick with seawater.
She’d need to find towels and dry them before any guests hurt themselves by slipping and falling.
But priorities. She and Jack needed Auntie Zee to return.
This wasn’t a good time for the portals to malfunction. “Has this happened before?”
“On occasion,” Kendra said, “but never for more than a few moments. I am growing increasingly concerned. I am not some minor jellyfish. I am the sea witch for the Eastern Seaboard, and I cannot be absent for an extended length of time. Auntie Zee understands this. If I am unable to return within twenty-four hours, there will be havoc.”
Reaching room number three, Kendra flung open the door. Calisa was struck by the stench of seaweed. Sea witch, did she say? What was a sea witch?
Eastern Seaboard?
As in the Atlantic Ocean?
Kendra strode across the room, and seawater sloshed around her feet. I’m going to need a lot of towels. The sea witch reached the closet and opened the door with a flourish.
Inside was an empty closet. Just a few hangers, swinging from the wind that Kendra had generated when she opened the closet door so vigorously.
“Before, what did it—” Calisa began to ask.
“My ocean,” Kendra said. “The lovely deep blue.”
“How did that work? Did the portal keep the ocean inside, like a force field? Could you see fish?” She thought back to the piercing wind of Melidor’s world—the portal must keep the realms separate while allowing travelers to pass through.
“The point is,” Kendra said sharply, “my ocean is gone.”
Calisa swallowed. Yes. Yes, that was a very good point. “I don’t know how the portals work or why one would close.”
“Then you will find out,” Kendra commanded. “Locate Auntie Zee. Fix this. Immediately.”
There was zero softness in her voice.
Calisa backed out to the hallway. Her socks were soaked, but she didn’t even look down. She closed the door to Kendra’s room and stared at it.
Half a minute later, she ran, jumping over puddles, to Jack’s door.
She’d never gone to his room before, always meeting him in the kitchen or outside, but she didn’t hesitate—she knocked loudly.
He also had a red X on his door, matching hers.
She wondered if Auntie Zee intentionally gave staff the rooms with broken portals.
She filed that on her list of items that she’d probably never have a chance to ask. “Jack? It’s Calisa.”
She heard a thump, then heard Jack swear. He opened the door a second later, and she caught a glimpse of a chair that had been knocked over. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. No. Kendra’s portal won’t open.”
She saw his face freeze, and she knew he was thinking of his father. She’d thought of that already. What if the doors all failed and none of the guests could return home? “Do you know if any of the others have had issues? Is it only Kendra’s portal?”
Grimly, he said, “We should check. Without alarming the other guests.”
Calisa nodded. Her heart was galloping. She hadn’t really thought about what she’d do if something actually went wrong at the bed-and-breakfast. She always assumed that Auntie Zee would be back before anything serious happened. I’m not supposed to be in charge.
Panicking wouldn’t help. Calisa took a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s check the doors we’ve used recently, and the ones the guests have.
Get all the information we can on how widespread this is, before we panic.
” She grabbed his hand and pulled him downstairs to the lobby.
She yanked the drawer of the desk open and scooped up the master key.
She marched first to the guest room with the Night Market…and the closet door opened to the familiar swirl. She heard Jack exhale beside her. “Check a few more?” he suggested.
Methodically, they checked room by room.
Miraculously, the other portals were intact.
“It’s only Kendra’s room,” Jack said.
They returned downstairs to find the sea witch in the sitting room.
She was pacing in front of the fireplace as she dripped seawater.
Grabbing towels, Jack scurried behind her, sopping up water before it saturated the rugs.
The white cat was on the windowsill, her fur fluffed and her body tense as she glared at the sea witch.
Outside, the winged lizard was perched on the window ledge, looking concerned. Or hungry. She couldn’t tell which.
“I don’t think you understand the scope of this disaster,” Kendra said without any preamble. She wrung her hands, and water splattered onto the walls, sliding down the wallpaper. “If I can’t return, there will be no one to regulate the storms.”
“We’re going to find Auntie Zee,” Calisa promised.
And then it hit her: If previously stable portals were malfunctioning, maybe Auntie Zee had been trapped behind a closed door? Maybe, for whatever reason, her magic wasn’t allowing her to open it? Or she was sick and couldn’t open it?
She hated that explanation.
But it did make sense.
All this time, she’d been assuming that Auntie Zee had chosen to stay away. But now…What if I was wrong? What if she hasn’t come back because she can’t?
Hoping the dismay she was feeling didn’t show on her face, Calisa crossed the sitting room, her wet socks squishing, and held out her arms to the cat.
“Portia? Will you let me carry you to a dry room?” The cat had never allowed Calisa to pet her, but this time she seemed to feel the situation was suitably dire.
Portia allowed Calisa to carry her into the library, where Calisa deposited her on the window seat.
“We’ll fix this. I don’t know how yet, but we’ll think of something. Don’t worry.”
The cat hissed.
“It’ll be okay,” Calisa said, as much to herself as to Portia.
She hurried back to Jack. He looked near panic, his eyes wide as he mopped the puddles as quickly and thoroughly as he could—it was a losing battle, though, as the sea witch continued to ooze seawater.
“It’s time to check Auntie Zee’s room,” Calisa said.
“Maybe there’s a clue there.” Kendra’s portal closing changed everything.
Auntie Zee couldn’t be staying away voluntarily, not if she knew this was what could happen in her absence.
As grumpy as Auntie Zee was, she cared about the Faraway Inn too much to be that reckless with her legacy.
Calisa expected Jack to argue. But he didn’t protest or even say a word. Just handed her the key. Maybe he knew it too. This was far more serious than Auntie Zee simply needing a break.
She charged up to the third floor, and then she stopped. They hadn’t searched Auntie Zee’s room because they’d assumed either they’d find her or she’d return on her own. Entering it now…that was tantamount to admitting that she couldn’t come back.
Immediately, Calisa’s brain helpfully supplied images of what could have happened to Auntie Zee to prevent her from reopening a malfunctioning portal, all the possibilities she hadn’t let herself consider because this was the Auntie Zee.
What if she’s hurt? What if she’s sick? What if she’s unconscious?
What if she’s— Not letting herself complete the thought, she stuck the key into the lock, twisted, and pushed the door open.
Auntie Zee’s room was a wondrous kaleidoscope of color: scarfs and tapestries were draped over the walls, while mobiles made of prisms dangled from the ceiling.
Gold, silver, and blue pillows were piled on the bed beneath a ruby-and-emerald-colored canopy.
Multicolored rugs covered the honey-colored floor.
Every surface was stacked with treasures: boxes carved from seashells; tiny sculptures of creatures that shouldn’t exist, like dragons and centaurs; little paintings that hung on the wall depicting worlds with impossibly high waterfalls, many moons, and castles.
Coming inside, Calisa saw one etching of the labyrinth with its bone guards.
These were souvenirs of her travels. Or perhaps gifts from visiting travelers. She’d made her room a shrine to all the wonders that the nexus could bring. She loves this place.
Looking around, Calisa was now completely and terribly certain: Auntie Zee wasn’t staying away voluntarily. She had to be trapped…elsewhere. Far away.
She saw a warm glow from the fireplace. The firebird was here, watching her. It occurred to her that the firebird was always where she was, anticipating where she planned to go. She decided that was a good sign—she was supposed to be here, looking for her aunt.
Addressing it, Calisa asked, “Do you know where Auntie Zee is?”
The firebird flew up the chimney, and the room dipped into shadow.
She didn’t know what kind of answer that was. Maybe none at all.
Calisa couldn’t tell when her great-aunt had last been here.
The sheets on the bed were rumpled, but when had they last been slept on?
She studied it, as if the creases would hold the answer.
Stray white hairs lay on the pillow, or perhaps tufts of fur…
All that meant, though, was that Auntie Zee let the cat sleep with her.
It didn’t tell her anything useful either.
Calisa took a breath and then checked the one place she hadn’t yet dared: the closet.
Girding herself, she opened the door.
Inside were only clothes on hangers and a pile of shoes at the bottom. She stared at the mess and wondered what it meant.
Had this once been a portal that closed? If so, how long ago had the portal failed? Years ago? If not, why no X on the exterior door? So, did that mean it failed recently? Was Auntie Zee, like Jack’s father, stuck on the other side? Lost?
No, it couldn’t have been recent. The closet wouldn’t be filled with shoes if it were an active portal. All the other portal closets had been empty.
Except the broom closet, on the first day I was here.
Okay, never mind. She had no way of knowing if this was a recently failed portal or not. It was equally possible that it had never been a portal at all. Auntie Zee might not have wanted a portal in the same room where she slept.
Ugh, there’s so much I don’t know! It was infuriating. If Auntie Zee had just explained everything on day one, even a short this-is-how-the-magic-works primer, she wouldn’t be feeling so helpless now.
Calisa took a deep breath.
Calm down. Think.
In her admittedly limited experience with the inn, in most cases, a door was either a portal or not a portal.
Except for that first broom closet. After that day, the broom closet had behaved like an ordinary broom closet, filled with mops and dustbins and so forth.
Calisa had used it often, but the very first time she encountered it…
She tried to re-create the memory of that moment in her mind.
Auntie Zee had shut the door on the howling void and then reopened it on brooms. How?
Had she done anything special? Said anything?
Cast a spell? Calisa was fairly certain the answer was no.
All Auntie Zee had done was shut it and reopen it.
Calisa closed the closet door, waited three seconds, and then opened it.
Still shoes and clothes.
She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. Not panicked. Not yet. As far as she could tell, they now had two problems: Auntie Zee was missing, and the portals were malfunctioning.
The best option was to solve problem two and hope that fixed problem one.
How, though, did she fix a portal to another realm?