“So tell me what I am dealing with! How am I supposed to know? Just guess?” He was getting sick of all the mysterious, rambling talk. All he wanted now was to understand exactly what was going on in the old hotel.
Darius stood. “Come with me. I will talk as we walk.” He brushed an invisible speck off his immaculate velvet jacket and gestured towards the door. Finnian picked up his crutches and clumsily pushed his way out of his seat. Read More
Finnian opened the cover of the book. The first page was printed and it had the name of the hotel and the date it had opened. 1898. The rest of the book was written in the same very neat hand writing, a flowing script that was difficult to read but beautiful to look at. There was a list of the hotel rules and regulations and a list of the original prices for the different rooms. Read More
“I don’t know. I think there is a problem with the time in the hotel. I think maybe it is both my time and your time.”
“Like, some sort of magic?” Finnian was dubious. He had seen some weird things over the last three days, but he wasn’t completely ready to believe in magic and fractures in time.
“And Darius? Is he from your time?”
“He is from all time.” Read More
The room at the end of the hallway, on the left was closed, the door not only intact, but freshly painted. On the door in bright yellow paint was the number 413. Finnian frowned. There weren’t thirteen rooms on this floor. Read More
Finnian looked at Jack through the murky darkness, now filling with both dust and steam and for a moment was sure it wasn’t Jack at all. Would his brother really throw a knife at him? Even as a joke? Read More