Magicorum Box Set (Books 1-5)

18. Chapter Eighteen

18

Chapter Eighteen

Bryar Rose

I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but it’s the gross taste in my mouth that wakes me up.

Ugh. It’s like I gargled medicine and aftershave.

I slowly blink my eyes open. Huh. I’m lying atop a double bed inside a round hotel room. Gray paint peels off the walls. A moth-eaten carpet covers the floor. The windows are all cracked and dirty, so I can’t see outside. That said, the light itself is bright, and insects are chirping away outside. It must be late afternoon.

I moan and press my palms to my eyes. Late afternoon? That means I’ve been passed out all night, and it’s now Saturday. My birthday. I should not be in a crappy hotel room today. And how exactly did I get here, anyway? The last thing I remember, Philpot shoved a handkerchief over my mouth. He must have knocked me out and brought me…where? To a broken-down hotel room that’s somehow round?

I’d say that’s totally weird, but this is my life, after all. Strange stuff sticks to me like toilet paper to a shoe. I sit upright, and that’s when I see it.

I’m dressed in a red toga. What the WHAT?

The dress loops over my shoulder and ties around my waist. Sure, it’s ankle length, but it’s the kind of thing you wear to a prom, not to sleep. Fear tightens up my ribcage. There aren’t a lot of reasons to dress me this way. None of them is good.

There’s a knock at the rickety door. “May I come in?” The voice is female, overly bright, and somewhat familiar.

“Sure.” Not like I have a lot of choices here.

The door swings open with a long creak, and through it steps someone I never thought I’d see again. At least, not while she was still alive.

It’s Blanche, the girl who went missing from my Magicorum Teen Therapy Group.

She’s wearing a version of the outfit Madame Grimoire always favored: an A-line dress in sky blue with a pillbox hat and white gloves.

My mouth seems to move on its own. “You’re alive.”

“Of course I am, silly. I’m Denarii now.” She exhales a dreamy sigh. “Perfected.” In some ways, Blanche looks the same as she did in group: pale skin, black hair, and red lips. Only, now she looks like someone made a wax model of her. Her skin has no pores or imperfections anymore…more like a mannequin than a person.

Just like Philpot.

Damn. Blanche is a Denarii. And now she looks too perfect to be real.

Can Philpot be one, too?

I want to face-palm myself. Of course, he’s one of the Denarii. Only, Philpot’s personality was so flawed, I never really focused on the perfection of his face. And he brought me here. Not good.

I work hard to stop myself from shaking. “Where am I?”

“I would’ve thought that was obvious.”

“It isn’t.”

“It must be those silly drugs we gave you. They can make you downright addle-brained.”

Addle-brained? What is she, eighty?

I speak super-slowly. “Where am I, Blanche?”

“You’re in the Thornhill Arms hotel, of course.”

“Right. Of course.” My voice is super-sarcastic, and I don’t care. “I’m in the creepy abandoned hotel that overlooks Elle’s cabin.”

“We all know what you did to Madame Grimoire, by the way. That was very naughty.”

I pick at the filmy layers of my skirts. “Why am I here, Blanche?”

“I dressed you while you were passed out. I hope you like it.”

“I don’t like it, and that wasn’t an answer to my question.” Blanche was always like this in group, too. It took ten follow-up questions to get her to answer anything.

Blanche blinks a lot and tries to look innocent. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Why am I here? Are you planning to…” I can’t bring myself to say the words.

“To what?”

“Roast me for dinner or something?”

“We eat all our meat raw.”

“So you are going to kill me.” I gesture down at the dress. “This dress is just…what? The equivalent of putting those little chef hats on the stumps of turkey legs?”

“Don’t be such a silly-nilly. Come on outside, and Jules will explain everything to you.”

“Jules.” Reggie told me about this guy. He’s the leader of the Denarii. And that means I’m in deep trouble. “He wants to talk to me?”

“Of course.” Blanche pushes the door open. “Let’s go down the stairs. Jules is waiting for you in the courtyard.”

“Oh.” I glance toward the windows, but they are all too cracked and dirty to see outside. But now that I know I’m in the Thornhill Arms, I have a better idea of my whereabouts. The old hotel was built to look like a fake castle. It even has two stucco towers. Since my room is round and the windows are super-thin, I’m guessing I’m in one of those tower rooms.

I scan the space around me, looking for any kind of weapon. Nothing.

Blanche stands by the open door. “We really shouldn’t keep Jules waiting.”

My mind races through options for escape. This hotel is so rundown I’m bound to find something I can use as a weapon. I just need to get out of this room and look around. Heading downstairs to the courtyard seems as good an idea as any. “Sure, lead the way.”

Blanche starts down a winding staircase. The steps are rickety and filled with cobwebs. Sadly, there isn’t anything around that can be used as a weapon. Someone took the time to take down the light fixtures and handrails…all stuff that could be used in a fight. Even the carpet’s been pulled up and all the nails removed.

With every turn downward, I look for a door or window. There aren’t any. Every possible exit has been nailed down tight. I do hear rustling sounds beyond the walls, though. “Are we the only people here?”

“There are Denarii in residence.”

Any bit of information could be useful. “How many are here?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Denarii just follow Jules around. I don’t waste my time with the rank and file. You and me…” She glances over her shoulder and grins. “We’re special.”

Oh no. They really did scoop out her brains, because what she’s saying now? It’s nothing less than mindless. “Glad to hear it, Blanche. Do we have to visit Jules right this second? Can’t you give me a tour of the hotel or anything?” I force on a smile. “I’d love to catch up.”

“Why, I’d love that, too. There’s so much to talk about as well. But later. You see, Jules would be sorely disappointed if you kept him waiting.” She reaches the bottom of the winding staircase and sets her hand on a levered door. “Here we are. Jules is just past this door.”

The walls seem to press in on me. Silver spots appear in my vision. My limbs turn shaky. Something rattles inside the deepest well of my being. It’s that damned lockbox from Colonel Mallory. Whatever is in there, it’s trying to escape.

No, no, no. I can’t have an episode now.

“You didn’t by any chance get my inhaler, did you?”

“Silly me, I do have it.” Blanche pulls the small device from the pocket of her skirt and hands it over. “Now take your medicine like a good little girl and go see Jules.”

I uncap the device, take a few puffs, and reset the inhaler into the folds of fabric at my waist. This dress doesn’t seem to have pockets, so it’s the best I can do.

“Good work,” says Blanche happily. “Jules wanted you to do that.”

Well, if Jules wanted me to take my meds, it can’t be a good idea. I remember how Knox freaked out when he scented my inhaler. I make a mental note to ask him about that later on. You know, if I ever escape here alive.

“Come along, now.” Blanche pushes open the door. Bright beams of morning sunlight blind me for a moment before I adjust. “Jules is waiting.”

“I got that, thanks.” I step out onto the courtyard. It’s a huge square space lined with gray flagstones. On one side, there’s the hotel itself, the Thornhill Arms. On the other three sides of the square space, there stand walls made of thorny branches. It’s like a hedgerow maze, only with no way out. Even worse, all the walls glitter with silver light. I’ve seen the same effect on the plants Auntie Mirabelle grows in our penthouse.

They’re enchanted with fairy magic.

Blanche extends her arm across the courtyard. “And there’s our beloved leader, Jules.”

I follow her gesture. At the far end of the flagstone yard stands a lone figure. Although his back is facing us, I can tell that he’s tall and strong with a full head of brown hair. Somehow, I expected an old and withered version of Julius Caesar. How come he looks young and hot? I shiver, realizing the answer. It’s just what Reggie said. Jules has been fed well. Gross.

Jules is also wearing modern clothing, which is another shocker. Namely, he’s dressed up in a modern military uniform that’s blue and has shoulder epaulettes. A long red sash crosses his chest to tie at his waistline. And atop his head, there sits a thin golden crown. He’s dressed like a Prince. The thought makes my skin prickle into gooseflesh.

Oh, no.

I’m trapped in a castle that’s protected by magical thorns. Unless I take my medicine, I’ll fall into an enchanted sleep. And I’m about to meet some dude named Jules who’s decided to dress up like royalty. Worst of all, it’s getting close to sunset on my eighteenth birthday, the exact time when I’m supposed to wed my dream man.

This is the Sleeping Beauty template, and it sucks.

I scope out the flagstone yard. There’s definitely no easy means of escape. Those thorns will kill me in two seconds flat. That said, I do have one last shot at freedom. Sure, it’s a slim chance, but I have to give it a try, so I set my hand by my mouth. “I summon thee, Colonel Mallory the Magnificent!”

Blanche titters. “He can’t help you here. No one can.” She lowers her voice. “Take my advice. Whatever Jules tell you to do, you do it. Although his plan must be obvious by now.”

“Yeah, I got it.” A little bit of bile creeps up my throat. “Yuck.”

And that’s when my memory clicks in. The red toga dress. In ancient Rome, brides always wore red togas on their wedding day. This isn’t just the Sleeping Beauty template; it’s the big final scene of that story.

I’m here to marry an evil zombie version of Julius Caesar.

My life has officially reached rock bottom.

But then, I underestimate how low I have yet to fall because Jules turns, and I recognize his face immediately.

It’s Philpot.

Philpot the Turd is actually the evil leader of the organ-eating Denarii, and I’m about to marry him on my eighteenth birthday, just like my aunties always wanted.

Blanche steps closer to whisper in my ear. “I heard rumors that you can fight. But whatever battle skills you think you have, you’re nothing compared to Jules. You’re weak, Bryar Rose. Incomplete. He can help you.”

With that, Blanche sets off my rebel-reflex yet again. I straighten my shoulders and glare at him with everything I’ve got. “No, I’m stronger than you can imagine. All of you are underestimating me.”

It’s a total lie, but Blanche’s mouth falls open with surprise. Good. At least, she’s buying my story. I make a mental note to thank Elle later. All her lessons in conning and bluffing your way out of trouble are paying off. I can almost hear her in my head.

“Keep up the con until you can escape.”

In this case, the con is pretending I have a way out of here…until I find one that could actually work. Lifting my shin, I flip my hair over my shoulder and sashay toward Jules with a hip-swish that says I can handle anything. It’s not the best plan I’ve ever had, but right now? It’s the only chance I’ve got.