The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

meekly.
    “I will be traveling,” she said. “As will my aunt, but to another destination. I wish to retain my rooms. I assume my note of credit will answer any worries?”
    “Of course. You will be returning…”
    “At some point.”
    “I see.”
    “Good. Do you know, earlier, that this hotel seemed absolutely full of foreign soldiers?”
    “Did it?”
    “Apparently they were directed to the second floor.” She looked around them and then dropped her voice to a whisper. Despite himself Spanning leaned closer to hear. “Do you know, Mr. Spanning,…do you know the
sound
a person makes…when they’re
thrashed
…to such an
extreme
…they can no longer even cry out…with pain?”
    Mr. Spanning flinched, blinking his eyes. Miss Temple leaned even closer and whispered, “Because I do.”
    Spanning swallowed. Miss Temple stood up straight and smiled.
    “I believe you have the Doctor’s boots and his coat?”

    She climbed back up the main staircase to the second floor and then dashed down the hallway to the rear stairs, her green bag in one hand, the boots in the other, and the Doctor’s coat over her left arm. The satchel, thickly packed with unnecessary clothing, had been left in Spanning’s care with the request for him to hold it until she was ready to leave, which she announced would most likely be after luncheon—thus making a point to inform Spanning (and the soldiers) that she (and by extension, via the boots, Svenson and Chang) could be found in her rooms for the next few hours. Once out of sight from the lobby, Miss Temple picked up her dress as best she could and briskly climbed. With luck the others had used her distraction to get her aunt and the maids out the service entrance. The porters would take the luggage and find a coach, allowing Svenson and Chang to remain hidden indoors. But were the soldiers marching into the lobby even then, men who moved much faster than she? She reached the fourth floor and stopped to listen. She heard no bootsteps and resumed her trotting pace upwards. At the eighth floor she stopped again, flushed with exertion and panting. She had never been to this topmost floor and had no idea where to find what Chang assured her was there. She walked along the corridor, past what looked like doors to normal rooms, until she rounded a corner and faced the end of the hall. She looked back the other way and saw an identical dead end. Hot and out of breath from her climb, Miss Temple worried about what next might follow her up the stairs. She whispered—or rather hissed—to the air around her with frustration.
“Psssssst!”
    She wheeled abruptly at a wooden squeak. A section of the red-flocked wallpaper swung forward on hinges she had not seen, revealing Doctor Svenson, and behind him, on a narrow staircase steep enough to be more like a ladder, Chang, silhouetted in an open doorway to the roof. Despite the distress of a moment before, she could not suppress her admiration at the cunningly concealed doorway.
    “My goodness,” she exclaimed, “whoever made that is as clever as five monkeys put together!”
    “Your aunt is safely away,” said Svenson, stepping into the hall to collect his things.
    “I am relieved to hear it,” replied Miss Temple. The Doctor struggled into his coat, which—after being brushed and steamed—did restore some of his military crispness. “I could not see this door at all,” she continued, admiring the inset hinges. “I don’t know how anyone should find it—”
    “Are they following?” hissed Chang from inside the passage.
    “Not that I have seen,” Miss Temple whispered in return. “I could not see them in the lobby—O!” She turned sharply at Doctor Svenson’s hand clutching her shoulder.
    “I beg your pardon!” he said, bracing himself as he tried to put on his right boot. He could not do it with one hand and was reduced to trying with two while awkwardly hopping.
    “We should hurry,” called Chang.
    “Half a moment,” whispered Svenson—the first boot was nearly on. Miss Temple waited. His task remained difficult. She tried to find encouraging conversation.
    “I have never been on a rooftop before, or not one so high. I’m sure we’ll have quite a view—up with the birds!”
    Somehow it seemed the wrong thing to say. Svenson looked up at her, his face more pale, and started in on the second boot.
    “Are you perfectly well, Doctor? I know you did not find but a few hours’ rest—”
    “Go on ahead,”