“You realize I purchased this entire cabin for us, and yet the three of you are cramped into one booth that hardly has room for two people,” said Séverin.
“Even so… we could squeeze a fourth?” said Hypnos, scooting against the wall with the window. “If you wish to join?”
Séverin regarded the small seat. At first, Zofia thought he would turn and go, but he didn’t. Slowly, he took a seat beside Hypnos.
“This was what she would have wanted, wasn’t it?” asked Séverin.
They fell quiet for a moment before Enrique said: “You think Laila would wish to be squished in a train compartment with Hypnos’s odious cologne? I doubt it.”
Hypnos gasped. “How dare you?Eau du Diable Douxis a rare, coveted fragrance sold to a select few—”
“Perhaps because in large quantities it would singe the nose hairs off the general population.”
Zofia laughed. A smile tugged even at Séverin’s mouth. It was brief, but it was still there. The four of them watched the rain outside the window. Zofia could not say she was happy. Laila was gone, and Hela’s fate still weighed heavily on her thoughts… but Zofia was hopeful for the future. That future was unclear, but it was, as Enrique had said, something to be figured out day by day.
THE DAY AFTERZofia had settled once more into her suites at L’Eden, she found a note waiting for her in her laboratory.
URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED
TELEGRAM WAITING FOR MME. ZOFIA BOGUSKA
FROM MR. AND MRS. IZAAK KOWALSKI
Kowalski?
Zofia did not recognize the name. She swayed a little on the spot, feeling that dark panic of the unknown fluttering at the edge of her thoughts.
No, she told herself.
She took a deep breath, opening her eyes and counting the familiar alembics and bottles all around her. Then, with her shoulders thrown back, Zofia left her laboratory for the main lobby.
In the past few days, L’Eden had transformed. Ever since the news about Forged objects failing around the world—some of which had exploded and even injured people—L’Eden had removed nearly all of its Forged decoration. Now, the grand lobby was austere, lit with dozens of candles. Black marble had replaced the polished wooden floors so that it almost seemed as though the guests stepped onto the night sky itself. Above, Séverin had removed the chandeliers, and an expanse of lush greenery carpeted the ceiling. Pale flowers grew upside down, and thick vines clambered around the pillars that supported the ornate staircase.
As Zofia crossed the lobby and moved past the finely dressed guests, her heart began to race. What was the telegram about? And who was it from?
Séverin’s factotum greeted her with a small bow. “Mademoiselle Boguska, how may I assist?”
“There is a telegram for me,” said Zofia.
“Ah yes,” he said, reaching into his jacket. “Is that all I may assist you with?”
Zofia took the telegram with trembling hands. “Will you send Monsieur Mercado-Lopez to meet me here?”
“Of course.”
The factotum left with a small nod, leaving Zofia with the telegram in her hand.
Zofia almost wished she could pretend she never saw the note on her laboratory desk, but that would be like losing Hela’s letter all over again… and she was done hiding from the things she could not control.
Perhaps it was fitting that the night before, Zofia had dreamed of Laila. In her dream, they were sitting at the high stools in the L’Eden kitchen and dunking perfectly pale sugar cookies into hot milk.
Do you know what will happen next?Zofia had asked.
Laila shook her head.It’s as unknown to me as it is to you.
You do not seem scared,Zofia had said.
All I can do is hope for unexpected joy… and if it turns out to be dark, well, nothing can keep the light away forever.
