The heavy wooden door swung open at Zeus's touch. Once her hand was released, Sabrina flexed her fingers reflexively before using her good hand to tuck her limp arm up around her ribs. Traveling through the shadows had been disorienting, but oddly comfortable -- like swimming through cool water; sights and sounds muddled and dreamlike.
She motioned with her head as she passed through the open door to invite him in. She breathed deeply as she crossed the threshold, and the beaten, magic-sick thing she'd been at the museum seemed to slough off her like so much dead skin. Back straight and shoulders as square as she could get them, she looked more now like an avenging goddess, even soot-covered and reeking of burned flesh.
The imposing exterior of the Parlor gave way to a riot of sound and color: enormous crystal chandeliers glimmering with the the light of thousands of ever-burning candles, the murals splashed across the tall lobby walls, the scent cooking food wafting from the kitchen, echoing laughter from the tenants scattered about the seating area underscored by Die Antwoord's "Baby's On Fire" playing from somewhere on the open second floor.
The lobby was well populated -- the self defense class Billie held weekly in the ballroom had just ended, and a few stragglers from family dinner were still lounging and chatting. All conversation ceased and eyes turned toward the door, however, as the pair entered. The silence lingered for just long enough for hands to begin coming up to cover mouths dropped open in shock, until a young girl halfway across the room wriggled out of her seat and her mother's grasp and ran over to hug Sabrina about the knees.
Letting her limp arm dangle, Sabrina reached down to pat her head, then grasped delicately under her chin to tilt her small head back and forth, inspecting the thin line of sutures and underlying cut that ran across her forehead. "My head's all better, auntie!" she chirped.
Sabrina smiled down at her, letting her face go and stroking her hair "I'm glad, Judy. It doesn't hurt?" The little girl shook her head, then buried her face in Sabrina's torn, stained skirts, "No more playing on the stairs, alright? You know better." The child nodded without looking up, "Good, now run on back to your momma, sweetie. Auntie has some things to take care of." With one last squeeze, Judy did as she was bid, and scampered back to her mother's waiting arms.
The exchange seemed to break the tension in the room, and the growing whispers turned into murmurs that threatened to break out into shouting -- until Sabrina spoke again, loud enough to cut through the clamor, tone even and calm. She addressed a young woman dressed in yoga pants with a mane of kinky blonde hair, whose gaze had been ping-ponging between Sabrina and her demonic escort since they'd entered "Billie, this is Zeus. I need you to get the workshop ready." Needing no further prompting, Billie scrambled off and up the stairs, moving faster than a human should have been able to. Sabrina followed at a markedly slower pace and motioned for Zeus to join her, the crowd dispersing as the moved through the lobby, though the whispers continued.
As they mounted the stairs, a different young woman -- this one with an enormous smile and rainbow hair pulled into twin buns top her head -- rounded the corner coming from the dining room with a bottle of champagne and 2 glasses in her hands. Seeing Sabrina, her expression dropped into one of concern, then horror -- but Sabrina was too busy pushing open the door that had appeared at the top of the stairs when Billie hung a framed photo in the formerly blank space.
Beyond was a room with a tile floor and stainless steel furnishings, but for the dentist's chair in the center of the room that Sabrina collapsed into as soon the door closed behind her father.
Inside, the photo on the door was mirrored -- an image of the rom they occupied, framed in brushed steel. "Could you take down the picture, please?" she asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. "It'll stop anyone else coming in here."
