As Calisa passed through the lobby with an armload of towels for Jack—he was finishing soaking up what remained of Kendra’s disaster—she asked, “What about the mirror? How does it help with running the inn?”
“It doesn’t,” Auntie Zee said. “It’s just an asshole.”
I heard that, the mirror wrote.
Auntie Zee laughed. “The mirror is my security system. It watches the lobby and lets me know if it spots any threats to my guests. In exchange, I offer it a respite from people who want to ask it stupid questions because they read a ridiculous fairy tale and think it has opinions on human beauty.”
Calisa laughed and then saw she was serious. “Not sure it’s totally doing its job. It didn’t alert you when I stole…borrowed…the inn’s logbook. It had to have seen me pluck it out of the portal.”
Auntie Zee shrugged. “As I said, it’s an asshole.”
In my defense, I thought it would be funny.
“How is that a defense?” Calisa asked.
In small letters:It was objectively hilarious.
Hobbling out of the lobby, Auntie Zee grunted at the mirror.
After tossing the towels to Jack, Calisa followed her aunt into the kitchen. “The first thing to know about running a bed-and-breakfast,” Auntie Zee said, “is that you must be both visible and invisible. The guests should feel catered to but never smothered….”
Calisa wondered if she should be taking notes.
She continued on with the advice—answering questions that Calisa hadn’t even thought to ask about maintaining an inn with otherworldly guests—before concluding with: “We will, of course, need to fill the pantry before the influx of guests begins.”
From under the sink where he was working on the plumbing, Thomas called, “Make me a list. I’ll visit Rin’s stall in the Night Market after I’m done with this.”
Carrying an armload of damp, salty towels, Jack popped into the kitchen before heading for the washing machine. “You arenotgoing through a portal again.” He and Calisa had done all the inviting and making reservations. This was the first time the possibility of his dad venturing through had come up.
“That’s not how you talk to your father,” Auntie Zee admonished as he sailed by. “You have been spending too much time with my grandniece.”
Thomas slid out from beneath the sink. “It’s not your decision to make. I have been visiting the Night Market for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Calisa located a pad of paper and a pencil. “Jack’s right. You aren’t going through a portal anytime soon. We’ll get whatever is needed. You have to stay put.” She leveled a look at Thomas. “For Jack.”
Huffing, Thomas began, “Everything I do is for Jack, for this place, for Zee, for our futures. If you think I’ll let my son take risks—”
Jack called over his shoulder, “You were gone forthree years.”
His father fell silent.
Calisa held the pencil poised over the paper and asked with a steel edge to her voice, “Auntie Zee, what do we need?”
She thought she heard Auntie Zee give a quiet grunt of approval.
—
With the full supply list in hand, Calisa and Jack (and Steve, riding on Calisa’s shoulder, as usual) returned to the Night Market. Working at his stall beneath an array of lanterns, Rin was delighted to see them and even more delighted when they showed him the list from Auntie Zee and explained about the grand reopening. “She is truly a marvel. I had worried…Well, never mind an old centaur’s worries. Passion cannot be stopped. It shines through, despite adversity. You know that’s how you achieve happiness, having a purpose in life, and she found hers with that inn. The last time I saw her, though, she was certain that the inn wouldn’t last much longer. May I ask what caused this change?”
“She got help,” Calisa said simply.
“Ahh, I see. Beautiful.” He read through the list, nodding at each item. “The breads, the pastries, yes—I will bring them myself.”
“How much?” Calisa asked.
Rin waved his hand airily. “For the witch of the inn, it’s agift.”
Jack frowned. “She won’t want—”
