Ghosts of Averoigne

“The key to our room?” Kara snarled.

Mr. Radcliffe went suddenly silent. It was the first time she’d seen him with his mouth closed.

“We require two rooms,” Kara stated evenly. Her voice was low and tense. As an afterthought, she forced herself to add: “Please.”

“I— I’m sorry,” said Radcliffe. “The storm has us overbooked. We’re at full capacity right now, both floors.”

Kara fumed. Logan squinted back at the owner for a moment, before pointing upward. “Then give us two rooms on the third floor.”

“Sorry, can’t do that either.”

“And why not?” Kara asked.

“We don’t rent rooms on the third floor.”

They stared back at the round-faced owner. Radcliffe’s expression had gone suddenly serious. He shook the key, which he still held out at arm’s length. “For obvious reasons,” he shrugged.

Grumbling, Kara swiped the key from him. The owner looked relieved.

“Alright,” she grunted. “Tomorrow. Your office. First thing in the morning.”

Travis Radcliffe yawned and nodded. Then he disappeared the way he came.

She was still fuming when Logan started walking away. “Where are you going?” she called after him. “The stairs are over this way.”

“Ever been in a glass elevator?” he asked.

Kara sighed and shook her head.

“C’mon then. Me neither.”

Five

Stepping into the old glass elevator was like stepping backward through time. Dust swirled. The floor creaked. The car itself dipped significantly as they shifted their full weight inside.

A chill ran though Kara as Logan pulled the door closed behind them.

“Go on. Push the button.”

There were no buttons. Only a series of old levers jutting out of the floor.

“Maybe this thing is out of service,” Kara suggested.

“Nah,” Logan said dismissively. He closed two hands over a pair of handles. “We can figure it out.”

He pulled on something and the car lurched uncomfortably.

“Oops. Not that one.”

Kara noticed a lever marked with a red handle. She pointed to it, and Logan disengaged the brake. Slowly, shakily, the elevator started to rise.

“See?” he said. “Nothing to it.”

They stared down together, through the old wavy glass. The lobby looked smaller almost immediately. Off in the distance, Fran was still asleep at her desk, dozing away from a standing position.

She glanced up to find Logan staring down at her. He was smiling now, not smirking.

“Wow,” he said with a low whistle. “It’s almost like you’re having fun.”