“Hmm . . . Mom taught me.” Zora dug out a top hat and a pointed black mask from the open box beside Ash’s feet and handed them over. “Here. We wouldn’t want anyone recognizing you.”
Ash pulled the mask over his face, finding himself grateful when the black fabric hid his expression.
What he wanted to say but couldn’t because Zora wouldn’t understand, was that he was afraid. He was afraid of meeting Quinn even though, at the same time, he wanted to meet her—needed to meet her.
He was afraid of the next six days—afraid to die but equally afraid of standing still.
He settled the hat on his head, jerked the knot of his tie to the center of his neck, and took a step back, considering himself.
“Now you look perfect,” Zora said.
Perfect wasn’t the word he would’ve used. The person who stared back from the mirror wasn’t like any version of himself he’d seen yet. He looked . . . grown up.
He looked ready.
People filled the docks outside the Fairmont, dressed in a wide array of thrifted ball gowns, mismatched suits, and handmade masks, chattering excitedly. There were more people than Ash had seen in one place since the earthquake. He felt his breath catch as his boat tore past, rounding the dock and slowing to a stop around the back of the hotel, where they parked beside a line of others. Zora had already pulled up on her Jet Ski, and she was leaning over to help Chandra climb off.
“I should’ve made you take me in the boat,” Chandra muttered, ringing the water out of her skirts. She was dressed like a Renaissance woman, with a corset tightening her waist and a massive powder-white wig balanced on her head. She wobbled on ridiculously high heels.
“Ack,” she muttered, pulling at her skirts. “How do people walk in these?”
“You didn’t need to wear heels,” Zora said.
“No, you didn’t need to wear heels,” Chandra said. “You’re nineteen feet tall. I’d like to dance with an actual human man, not his knees.”
“I like dancing,” Willis sniffed. He wasn’t joining them inside but had opted to come along anyway and stay with the boat in case they needed a quick getaway.
Ash couldn’t help but notice that he’d glanced longingly at the entrance to the Fairmont and was tapping his foot in time with the music drifting through the hotel’s windows.
And now Willis’s eyes traveled up the sides of the Fairmont’s outer walls, and he frowned slightly. “I wonder how difficult those would be to climb.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ash said. He switched off the engine, but it took a moment for his ears to adjust to the sudden stillness left in the wake of the motor. Distantly, he heard voices talking and laughing.
“I wouldn’t go to the party,” Willis murmured. “I’d just . . . poke around a little.”
“You’d just dance around the halls like a crazy person,” Chandra pointed out. “And you can do that out here.”
Willis made a face at her but didn’t press the point.
Ash readjusted the long, pointed mask on his face. “Are we ready?”
They were.
A line of people snaked around the side of the hotel, waiting to get inside. Ash and his friends lowered their masks as they plunged into the crowd so they wouldn’t be recognized. Here, especially, Ash didn’t want to be challenged to defend the Professor’s stance on time travel.
But no one seemed particularly interested in them. Everyone was murmuring excitedly, admiring each other’s masks and craning their necks to see inside the hotel. The line moved quickly and, soon, they were off the dock and through the Fairmont’s doors.
As soon as Ash stepped inside the hotel, he saw light.
It was real light, like they used to have before the flood. A massive chandelier dangled from the ceiling above him, lit up like Christmas morning, golden light reflected in the crystals that dripped from its brass arms. Sconces lined the walls, and ornate lamps stood beside armchairs and love seats. They didn’t flicker with candlelight. They buzzed with electricity.
Ash wasn’t the only one staring. All around him people had stopped in place, mouths hanging open, eyes wide with wonder. There hadn’t been power in this part of town since 2073. To restore electricity to the old hotel now would have taken a miracle.
Ash was still gaping when a tray of food whizzed past on a silver platter. He blinked,