a groan. ‘Make him stop this foolishness!’
Jupiter scoffed. ‘Really? If I had the ability to make Frank stop any sort of foolishness, do you think I’d still have a monthly bill for cocktail umbrellas that runs into the thousands? I told him he could have a dinner party and he threw a whole stinking gala, so I don’t know what kind of mystical powers you think I have over him!’
Dame Chanda fixed him with her sternest look and he groaned again, sliding reluctantly off the desk.
‘Fine.’ He glared up at the swinging vampire. ‘Frank, please come down. Let’s talk about this.’
‘NO! I SHAN’T COME DOWN, JOVE, NOT UNTIL – ARRRGHH!’
Frank lost his grip on the chandelier, came plummeting downwards, and was caught at the last second in the bedsheet and lowered gently to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and scowled at them one by one, furious at the indignity of it all.
Jupiter stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. ‘The Federation of Nevermoorian Hoteliers has given their recommendation to temporarily close, Frank, I can’t just—’
‘The Aurianna is still open,’ Frank protested. ‘They’re ignoring the recommendation. They’re positively gleeful that we’ve closed, Jove! Do you realise they’re throwing a party every night this—’
‘The Aurianna has banned Wunimals,’ Jupiter snapped, running a hand over his face. ‘Do you realise that? That is how the Aurianna is staying open.’
Frank turned away. Martha covered her mouth with her hands, while Morrigan and Jack exchanged a look of dismay. Nobody spoke.
Jupiter pushed on through the uncomfortable silence. ‘Is that what you’d like me to do? Turn away some of our friends while welcoming others?’
Frank huffed and adjusted his cape a little irritably. ‘I’m sure they’d – well, it is only temporary, after all!’
‘We don’t know that, Frank,’ said Kedgeree. ‘We can’t possibly know how long this will go on.’
‘What about all our other guests, then?’ Frank continued, looking to Charlie and Martha for support. ‘Don’t we owe them—’
‘I think,’ Martha began in a halting voice, ‘that we owe all of our guests the same consideration. What they’re doing at the Aurianna … Well. It’s not right.’ She pursed her lips, making it clear that was all she had to say on the matter.
‘It’s bang out of order,’ agreed Charlie, and Kedgeree gave a sober nod.
Jupiter spoke quietly. ‘You know, I’m surprised at you, Frank. For goodness’ sake, there are still establishments in Nevermoor that refuse to welcome you because you’re—’
‘A vampire, yes!’ Frank’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Exactly. And do you hear me complaining? Honestly, I don’t blame them. I’m a liability! I bit a man at the supermarket last week!’
Dame Chanda gasped. ‘Frank!’
‘Oh, it was just a nibble,’ he said, with a wave of his hand. ‘I sent flowers. My point is—’
‘This isn’t up for discussion.’ Jupiter hadn’t raised his voice, but the muscles in his jaw were clenched tight. ‘This is my hotel. I decide what it stands for, and the Deucalion does not stand for that.’
‘Jove—’
‘That’s my final decision. We’re closed to the public until this is over.’
Jupiter swept past Morrigan and stormed up the spiral staircase before anyone could say another word. Before anyone could ask the question they were all thinking, but nobody could answer.
When would it be over?
The summer had come to a crashing, miserable halt. Morrigan might almost have been pleased to return to school, except things weren’t much better there. Or anywhere else in Nevermoor.
When Hometrain 919 arrived at Proudfoot Station on Monday morning, Morrigan half expected to find herself the subject of whispers and stares after all the news coverage of what had happened at the Deucalion.
But the dreadful, ever-turning news cycle had saved her. There’d already been three more attacks since Friday night’s Sunset Gala: a boarwun had trampled a woman in the street, an elderly poodlewun had attacked her neighbour’s grandson, and a crocodilewun had dragged a man into the Courage Square fountain and nearly drowned him in a death roll. All three attackers now lay comatose, while their victims recovered elsewhere from injuries and shock.
‘I heard the crocodile was Senator Silverback’s personal assistant,’ Morrigan heard a girl from the unit above whispering to her friend on the platform. ‘Not a good look for him, is it?’
‘Crocodilewun,’ Morrigan corrected her automatically.
The girl turned to her in shock. ‘Are you actually defending him? He could have drowned someone!’
‘I’m not defending—’
‘Whatever.’ The girl scowled and turned back to her friend, hissing ‘Wundersmith’ under her breath. Morrigan wished they’d come up with a new insult.
As