26

Return to Majestica

Hattie stared at the Hotel Majestica, unable to believe her eyes.

Vines dangled from the marble columns at the top of the grand staircase. Weeds sprouted from the cracks in the steps. The porch chairs were covered in moss, and tiny purple mushrooms had popped up on the seat cushions. They’d been gone five days, but the hotel looked like it had been abandoned for years.

She shook her head. “This is impossible.”

Evelyn knelt to examine a pink flower. It was the size of a footstool, and the petals were slowly unfurling to make it even bigger. “Wow,” she breathed.

Hattie grasped for an explanation. “Mr. Morsewood is an excellent gardener, but maybe without the Caretaker, the plants were too much for him to handle?”

Jacob touched a mossy railing. “But for it to get this bad in only five days? That doesn’t seem right.”

They climbed the stairs to the porch, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Jeffers hesitantly sniffed a vine. It tapped him on the nose, and he let out a surprised squeak.

Hattie peeked through the full-length windows into the lobby. It looked empty, and that alone was enough to give her goose bumps. She had never seen the lobby without people in it.

“Where is Morsewood, anyway? Where’s anyone?” A vine tried to twist around her ankle, but she kicked it away. “Nice try. Mrs. Galliforma?” she called. “Mr. Bailgrave? Hello?”

An echo rolled into the distance. Hellooo-ooo-ooo.

Majestica had an army of staff. Where had they gone? She thought of Maude, and a pang of guilt struck her. I lost her lucky cap with the lace on it. And now something awful might have happened to her.

“It’s like a fairy tale,” Evelyn whispered. “You know, abandoned castles. Magical forests. People get lost and wander out of the woods fifty years later.”

Hattie shivered. Why did Evelyn have to go and say that out loud? The air was thick with magic, but it felt wrong somehow. Corrupted. Like a moldy piece of bread, bursting into strange colors and smells.

Everything was supposed to be all right once they got to Majestica. It was the one thing Hattie had believed in. What were they going to do now?

Jacob halted on the steps, juggling three balls of purple light. “The magic is everywhere.” A grin was plastered on his face. “I bet I’m as powerful as Secretary Wing here.”

He was showing off, and it made Hattie even more uneasy. “I thought you were afraid to do magic,” she reminded him. “Because of that strange voice you heard.”

He shrugged. “I used it yesterday, didn’t I? And nothing bad happened.”

Hattie remembered the feeling he had described, like being pulled by a tide. She wasn’t sure he was taking this seriously enough. “I bet that’s what the king of Dundala said,” she muttered, “before he became a skeleton lying in a ruin.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jacob snapped. Then his voice softened. “If anything out of the ordinary happens, I promise I’ll stop.”

Hattie tried to shake off the creepy tickle of fear. She gazed out at the overgrown gardens. Even the train tracks were covered in weeds. The emptiness that lay over the hotel grounds was so thick she could feel it.

“Everyone can’t have just vanished,” she said.

“Maybe they evacuated,” Evelyn suggested. “When they realized something was wrong with the Caretaker.”

Hattie stared up at Majestica’s tall front doors. The weeds had cracked the glass, and the gold handles were buried in a heap of morning glories. What would they find inside? Was there anyone still here? Please don’t be dead. Please.

“Now what?” Evelyn whispered.

Hattie swallowed. “We go in.” But when she tugged the door, it refused to budge.

Jacob twirled a ball of magic between his fingers. “Hang on,” he said cheerfully, aiming it at the doors. “I’ll get it!”

The glass exploded with a bang. They all shrieked, throwing their arms up. When Hattie uncovered her eyes, she saw a glittering layer of broken glass on the lobby floor. The flowers were already creeping in to fill the hole.

“Oops.” Jacob gulped. “Sorry. I’m not used to having this much power.”

They climbed through the hole. It looked like a whirlwind had gone through the lobby. The front desk was tipped over, papers scattering the floor. Lichen grew up the wallpaper, and plants exploded over the edges of their pots. The elevators rattled as they zinged up and down, all the buttons flashing at once. A gloomy green light filtered through the skylight. The place absolutely buzzed with magic.

From above, the dragon skull’s empty eye sockets looked down on the mess. Then something popped out of its mouth. They all screamed.

The troll roared back, waving its black hairy arms in the air. Its unkempt fur stood up in a ridge on its head, and its yellow eyes bulged.

Hattie’s heart skipped a beat. Jacob hit the wall with a thump, and Evelyn flung herself behind a chair. The troll leaped out of the skull, landing on the lobby floor.

Jacob yelled something, and a bolt of blue lightning flew out of his hand to zap the troll. It whimpered and took off down the staff corridor, where they could hear it destroying Mrs. G’s office.

Then they heard something else—a human voice coming from the courtyard.

“Someone’s here!” Hattie gasped.

A forest had sprung up in the courtyard. The ceramic pots along the walls were still in their usual places, though some had cracked and fallen apart. But the plants had gone wild, growing until they touched the glass ceiling.

Something hit Hattie in the face. “Ow!”

High up in a palm tree, a pixie swung from a branch, making rude faces at them.

“Stupid pixies,” she muttered.

Evelyn smiled. “Aw, it’s cute!”

Narrowing his eyes, the pixie chucked something shiny at her. Evelyn managed to duck just in time. A key clattered harmlessly to the floor. Hattie recognized it as one of the hundreds that usually hung on the pegboard behind the front desk.

“Hey!” She stomped her foot. “You put that back at once! You aren’t allowed to have those!”

With a shiver of leaves, it disappeared. Hattie glared at the branch where it had been. The pixie’s mischief unsettled her more than it should have. There was an order to things at Majestica. Everything at the hotel was as predictable as clockwork. The Caretaker had always made sure of that.

What if we can’t fix it? What if things are never the same again?

They pushed deeper into the courtyard. Hattie guessed they were close to the indoor pool, but it was hard to tell with the room so choked with plants.

“Hello?” An old man wearing goggles stepped from the bushes. “Who’s there?”

Hattie almost melted with relief. It was Mr. Morsewood.

The gardener was one of the most reliable people at Majestica—a man of science who kept meticulous notes about the hotel’s plants. He even had a greenhouse where he invented new hybrid species. But something about Morsewood looked off. His white hair had leaves sticking out of it, and his clothes were grass-stained. He clutched a notebook in his dirty hand.

“It’s me, Hattie!” Questions poured out of her mouth. “What’s going on? Where’s everyone else? What happened to the lobby?”

Morsewood peered over his goggles at her, and his face lit up. “Hattie Swift! Isn’t that a stroke of luck! I was just thinking I could use an assistant. Goodness, there’s so much to do!”

“But, Mr. Morsewood—what happened here?”

He gestured at the flowers. “Overgrowth, my dear Miss Swift! Isn’t it magnificent?”

“It’s very pretty,” Hattie said uncertainly, “but it looks like the plants are taking over the hotel. Everything’s gone wild.”

“I know!” The gardener beamed. He didn’t even seem upset that the hotel was being destroyed. “It’s absolutely fascinating. Have to keep researching—find out what caused it—”

Hattie ground her teeth. “But Mr. Morsewood, what happened to the guests? Where’s the staff? Is everyone all right?”

“Oh, them.” He scribbled in his notebook. “Most of them took a train to Basillica City the first day. But Galliforma’s around here somewhere—she and I stayed back to keep an eye on things.”

Hattie crossed her arms. “Somewhere? Don’t you know?”

Jacob studied the multiplying flowers. “You said you don’t know what’s causing the overgrowth?”

“Ah! Are you a student, my dear boy? Overgrowth is a phenomenon most commonly caused by a large burst of magic. The environment isn’t used to it—everything gets thrown out of whack.” Morsewood touched a giant leaf. “As you can see, it’s affected the plants quite profoundly.”

“But why is it happening?” Jacob persisted.

“I don’t know!” Morsewood looked thrilled. “That’s the best part!”

Hattie’s temper was rising. “Mr. Morsewood, we need your help! We’ve just come back from the jungle. Some of the guests were captured by the trees!”

A vine lazily wound itself around the gardener’s ankle, but he didn’t notice. He was going to get trapped himself if he didn’t start paying attention! Hattie hacked the vine with Dowson’s knife, and it wriggled away.

Somehow the plants looked even bigger than when they’d entered the courtyard. They pressed against the glass ceiling, causing the window frames to moan. Impossible, she told herself sternly. It’s your imagination.

She turned back to Morsewood. “Come on, we have to go now.”

“Leave? During the biggest overgrowth event Ruava has seen in centuries?” He flipped through his notebook, which was full of frantic messy writing. “This could get me published! I have to do a paper for the Journal of Horticulture. I can’t leave. There will be no one to write down the data.”

Hattie stamped her foot. “But what about those people in the trees?”

Morsewood waved his hand absently. “You’d better tell Mrs. G about that. She’s in charge. I could have sworn I saw her around here yesterday…or was it the day before?”

“Don’t you know what day it is?” Evelyn demanded.

Morsewood sounded grouchy. “Miss, we are witnessing an unprecedented magical phenomenon. I’ve been busy.”

Jacob nudged Hattie. “I don’t think he’s going to be much help,” he whispered. “Maybe we should try to find your Mrs. Galliforma.”

They retreated to the lobby, crunching on dirt and leaves. The clanging of the elevator doors was distracting, but also eerie. It was the only sound in the hotel. Hattie glanced helplessly around the empty lobby, struggling not to despair. Before this week, she had never been angry at an adult. They were supposed to know what to do. But the wilderness crew wouldn’t help, Dowson had kept secrets from her, and now Morsewood was useless too. A keen stab of disappointment went through her. The people in charge had let her down.

The dragon skull peered down at them, reminding Hattie of Agatha. I wish I had understood her better. She knew the telepathic images the dragon had given her were of the hotel. But the rest of it was all a muddle. Two dragons flying. My father. The corridor under the lake. What is it supposed to mean?

A low moan sounded from behind the front desk.

Hattie spotted a heap of crumpled black fabric on the floor. She gasped. Mrs. G lay sprawled at an unnatural angle, a red gash on her forehead. Hattie vaulted over the desk and dropped to her knees at the housekeeper’s side.

Mrs. G’s eyelids fluttered open. Her usual pompadour was disheveled and her face smudged with blood. “Is that you, my dear? I fear I’ve broken my ankle. I tripped and fell…trying to fight off the trolls.” She nodded at the hotel account book, upside down on the floor. “They were getting into the paperwork.”

Hattie gestured for Jacob to come closer. She tugged a bottle of water from his backpack, holding it to Mrs. G’s lips.

“Where is everyone else?” she asked.

The water seemed to help. “People…panicked. The guests were evacuated…on the train.” Mrs. G struggled to sit up. “Sent my girls with them. For their own safety.”

So the maids were safe. Hattie felt a rush of relief.

“And you stayed here?” Her eyes stung. “Oh, Mrs. G.”

“Abandon my post? Never!” The housekeeper raised a shaky hand to her forehead. “I—I think I hit my head on the desk when I fell.”

“But what happened to Mr. Bailgrave?” Evelyn asked. “He’s second-in-command. It’s supposed to be his job to run things when my uncle isn’t here.”

“Went to Basillica City to get help.” She took a raspy breath, gesturing for more water. “But he never came back. Morsewood…no good…He’s too fascinated by the plants. Overgrowth, he called it.” Her eyes closed again.

So Hattie’s worst fears had come true. Help was not coming.

“Can you stand?” she asked Mrs. G. “Let’s get you back to your room. I’ll fix you something for the pain.”

How many times had Mrs. G taken care of her when she was sick? She used to read Hattie fairy tales and brew up a special healing potion—which tasted suspiciously like chicken soup. Sudden tears floated in her eyes. Mrs. G was the closest thing she had to a mother.

It’s my turn to take care of her now.

But what about the hotel? She looked down at Mrs. G’s pained face, and somehow knew what the housekeeper would want her to do. She would say Majestica is the most important thing. She would want me to protect it. Especially now that there’s no one else left.

Hattie hesitated. She wasn’t very good at lying.

“You two go up to Mr. Ridgewell’s office.” She glanced at the elevators running amok, the doors slamming open and shut. “Take the stairs. Look for anything you can find on the Caretaker. Notes—blueprints—anything!” The lies felt funny in her mouth, but she made herself say them. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?” Jacob asked.

“Of course she will,” Evelyn scoffed. “She knows this hotel like the back of her hand. Come on, let’s go search for clues.”

She and Jacob trooped across the lobby and disappeared.

If only Evelyn knew how right she was. Hattie did know the hotel. She squirmed with guilt. They think we’re a team. And I’m betraying them.

Because of course she didn’t need to search Mr. Ridge-well’s office. Hattie knew exactly where the Caretaker was.

It was a struggle to get Mrs. G upstairs to her bedroom with her swollen ankle. By the time Hattie kicked through the door, she was drenched in sweat. She tucked the housekeeper into bed, drawing a quilt around her.

Mrs. G kept a stash of magical herbs and ingredients in the cabinet. As Hattie rummaged through the boxes, her mind raced with questions. Focus. She tried to remember the recipe for the potion. Mugwort. Mandrake. What else?

“No…no…” Mrs. G tossed feverishly on her pillows. “I hear him in the night…crying in the dark!”

Hattie brought the potion over to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“The dragon went down,” Mrs. G whispered. “Down into the dark. And he never came back out.”

A trickle of fear went through Hattie. The housekeeper’s eyes were closed. It sounded like Mrs. G was having a dream…or a vision. Which dragon was she talking about? Agatha—or her mate?

The one who killed my father.

“That’s right.” She squeezed Mrs. G’s hand. “He died, remember? Alfred. It was a long time ago.”

“Was it?” The housekeeper’s head rolled back and forth. “It’s nothing but a fog…Oh, Mr. Ridgewell, what have you done? Where is he? Where is Tom?”

Hattie let go of her hand. An icy feeling shivered down her back. Tom was a common name. And Mrs. G wasn’t herself. She might be talking about anyone, she told herself sternly. It doesn’t have to be my father.

Mrs. G let out a rattling breath. “Shouldn’t have kept his secrets for him. Should have trusted my instincts.” Her eyes came suddenly open, and she gripped Hattie’s arm. “Tom. I could have saved Tom.”

It didn’t have to be Hattie’s father. But she knew it was.

“What about Tom?” she whispered. “What do you mean?”

Sweat dotted Mrs. G’s forehead. “If only I’d known—the horrible things he did!”

“My father?”

“Ridgewell,” she croaked. Her eyes fluttered shut again. “He talks to me sometimes. In my dreams.”

“Who?” Hattie leaned closer. “Mr. Ridgewell?”

“Him. Where is Morsewood? He was there. He could tell you.” Mrs. G’s head thrashed around. “We took a lantern out to the garden in the dead of night. To the grave. We…had to know.”

“Of course you did,” Hattie said in a reassuring voice. But her insides had turned to ice. Whose grave?

“We dug…in the moonlight…dug deep.” The housekeeper grabbed her arm again. “There was nothing there. Don’t you see?”

“Don’t worry,” Hattie lied. “I see.”

But she didn’t. In fact, she was worried about Mrs. G. Her ankle was purplish-black, and the cut on her head was swollen. She needed a doctor. How long had it been since Mr. Bailgrave left to get help? Maybe he was on his way back right now, with twenty of Basillica City’s best magisters.

But maybe not.

“It’s all right, Mrs. G,” Hattie lied cheerfully. “Help is on the way. Now you stay here. I have to go see what’s wrong with the Caretaker.”

“No!” Mrs. G’s eyes bulged open. “Not the tunnels! It’s too dangerous. Don’t go…down…into the dark.”

Images flashed into Hattie’s head.

A dark corridor with slick, wet walls—something dripping—machinery coated with green slime—and a door no one ever opened.

It wasn’t Hattie’s memory. It was Agatha’s.

This was the moment. If she wanted to find out the truth about the Caretaker, she had to go now, before the others realized she had sent them on a wild goose chase. The only thing Jacob and Evelyn cared about was the Vesper Stone. She didn’t want them there when she opened that door.

Majestica was her home, not theirs. Hattie had to do this on her own.

She sprang to her feet and snapped her fingers. “Jeffers!” The lemur was on the desk, playing with a handful of pencils. “Stay with Mrs. G,” she told him. “If anything changes, come find me right away.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going down to the basement.”

She was never completely sure if Jeffers understood directions, but he surprised her by curling up on Mrs. G’s pillow. Hattie almost hoped she didn’t wake up—the sight of his round eyes so close to her face would probably make her scream.

As she slipped out of the room, the lights in the hallway flickered off, plunging her into darkness. Trailing her fingers down the wall, she made her way to the stairwell. The wall-paper was damp, and flowers bloomed from the rug.

Oh, Mr. Ridgewell, what have you done? She heard Mrs. G’s anguished voice. Where is Tom?

Once Hattie had thought history was about things that were dead and gone. But the past was not gone. It was here. It hovered over everything Mr. Ridgewell had built at Majestica. The past had secrets, but it wasn’t just going to give them up. They had been buried too long, in the damp tunnels under a dark lake.

Hattie knew where she had to go.