“I've been here for most of a year now,” Elisabeth said. They were in the dining hall.

Emma spooned up more potato salad. “Have you noticed how big and empty the place is? Granted, it hasn’t affected the amenities, but how does management afford to keep us fed like kings?”

Henry looked up. “I'm not sure either, and it's supposed to be my hotel. I have a vague memory of several farms dedicated to keeping us in food but where they could are or how the shipments come in, I have no idea.”

“Farms?” Elisabeth asked. “Is this a hotel or a medieval manor?”

As far as Emma knew, there were only six people in the Pyramidion. There was herself; Henry, whom she'd met the first day; Obie and Prospero, the two boys who hung around the arcade; the old man on the fourth floor, whom she'd never actually seen; and finally there was Elisabeth, who hadn't shown up until Emma and Henry had cleaned the library.

“Maybe we should try to pay the old man a visit,” Emma said, her eyes flicking up towards his room. “He must know more about this place.”

“What old man?” Henry asked. He wore his blonde hair loose today and it lapped around his shoulders.

“The . . . old man? Living on the fourth floor?” Emma had spoken with him with a door between them. She remembered the shuffling of feed and the tapping of a cane.

“That floor's deserted apart from you,” Henry said.

“And me,” Elisabeth said. “We're actually neighbours, Emma.”

“Elisabeth, you say that you’ve been here for a few months,” Henry said. “But from our perspective you only showed up after the library restored itself.”

“When you say it restored itself . . .” Emma said. “Did it do that magically, or . . . ?”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe the actual cleaning staff comes out when everyone's asleep. Like vampire janitors.”

“That's not the worst explanation I've heard. But, honestly, I'm more inclined to believe this is a very strange dream.”

“The food's good though,” Henry said, and had some more lasagna. Emma had to agree.

Elisabeth frowned. “From my perspective, the library has always been open.”

“Then how is it that Henry and I had to spend the last two days cleaning it?” Emma asked.

Henry waved his fork. “It was like something out of a black-and-white horror movie! Like how the gym is right now. We’ll have to clean it to unlock something else in this giant puzzle box.”

“A puzzle box,” Emma said. “It does feel like that. Like we’re in a game.”

“And we're stuck as players until we finish the game,” Henry said. “Is that bad, though? We clean out some new part of the shopping promenade, something else in the hotel comes online, and in the meantime we have all this luxury.”

“I do like luxury,” Emma said. “But at the same time, it also feels a bit wrong.” The hotel may have been virtually deserted but she still felt like she was being watched from time to time, in the common areas. “Have you ever felt like someone's was watching you, here in the hotel?”

“Sometimes,” Henry said. “Like there's a presence just out of sight. I even thought I saw something once, but I didn't get a good look.”

“I've felt something like that,” Elisabeth said. “The hotel is so big and empty that I often feel like someone's lurking, except when I'm tucked in my bed.”

Henry dug into his dessert, a banan split he’d assembled himself. “Reminds me of a faerie castle. Big empty place, but the food is hot and fresh and the place has every other comfort.”

“You really think it could be a faerie castle?” Emma asked, almost laughing. “You think we're living in a fairytale?”

“Never heard of any faerie castle with WiFi,” the boy said. “But as long as we don't steal anything we should be good.”

“We're allowed to take the food, and to use the facilities and such. What would be the point of punishing someone for 'stealing' in an abandoned hotel?”

“It's the principle of the thing. Guests are afforded every hospitality but they're also obliged to be good guests.”

“Mmm,” Emma said. “Better be careful then. You seem like the type to steal things.”

"Huh?” Henry said, mid-bite. “But it's my hotel!”

"Then you'd be stealing from yourself. Isn’t that the sort of illogical thing that faerie kings get up to?”

“Me? A faerie king?” He turned to Elisabeth. “Do I look like a faerie king to you?”

The older girl pursed her lips, examining the way he held himself, the length of his hair, and his face. “You could pull it off.”

He grumbled and spooned up more ice cream.

“Heh,” Emma said, and stirred her tea. “Perhaps I should start calling you Your Highness.”

“Please don't.”

“Why not? I think it fits quite well. Should start kneeling when I talk to you?”

Henry looked thoughtful. “Let's change the subject. So, shall we go down to the supermarket after this?”

“Sounds good to me,” Emma said. “Remind me again, how long have you and Elisabeth been here? It's no trouble if you don't exactly remember.”

“I still can’t remember anything,” Henry said.

“I'm sure it’ll come back. You remember your age and your name.”

“It's selective like that.”

“How do you know what you like? What colours you enjoy, or what food you like?”

“By trying things one at a time?”

“So you only know about that things that you've experienced here in the Pyramidion?” Henry looked uncomfortable so she said, “It's all right, you don't need to answer that.”

“I think I'll get more ice cream.”

She raised an eyebrow. “More? I don't think I've seen someone eat as much sweet food as you.”

“And now we know one more thing about me.”

* * *

After that heavy breakfast they walked slowly to one of the glass elevators.

Emma looked around. If she were a younger she’d do something like ride the brass bannisters or twirl down the polished marble floor.

“How you noticed the walls?” she asked. “They’re colourful in a muted way. They’ve got these horizontal stripes of different earth tones.” The wavy bands were white and gray, yellow and pink, red and tan.

“I hadn’t noticed, no,” Henry said. “Is that paint?”

Emma looked closer at the walls. “And there's shells and pretty stones in them. It’s lovely!”

Elisabeth pushed up her glasses. “It's rammed earth, an ancient building technique. They poured dirt into wooden forms and pounded it into sandstone.”

“Is that so?” Emma asked. She traced the wall with her fingers. “This was just dirt?”

The older girl looked up the airshaft. “The hotel's probably steel-reinforced but you can build pretty tall with just rammed earth.”

Emma stretched her neck upward. She had no idea how the Pyramidion had been built but it looked like it had taken a lot of work. “How old is this place, do you think? I'd almost think it was some kind of temple. “

Henry looked up from his phone. “Wikipedia says Art Deco first appeared in the 1910s and flourished between the world wars. So, the place is from the last century.”

"A hundred years old,” Emma said. “And yet it looks like it was only built last year, with how new everything looks. I wonder how they keep it so well-maintained?”

Henry snorted. “Those sealed-off places weren't well-maintained when we found them.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“True.” Emma remembered how dirty the arcade and library had looked.

They stepped into the glass elevators and Henry pressed a button. “B is for ‘Basement.’"

“I almost feel we should be taking the stairs,” Emma said. “Help us settle everything we've eaten.”

“Trust me, you'll be glad for the elevators when you're wheeling your purchasesback to your room.”

They seemed to go several floors down. Emma pressed her nose up against the glass. Beyond the glass walls there was only layer upon wavy layer of multicolored wall. More shells and precious stones had been set into the shaft.

The door opened and they walked out into an enormous supermarket floor.

Emma stared up at the towering shelves. “It’s incredible. I can barely see the end of this place!”

Henry was looking at his phone again. “It's really more of a 'hypermarket' than a supermarket, seeing how it stocks appliances too.” He pulled out one of the nested shopping carts. “Where to, boss?”

“I have no idea where to start. This place is just so massive, how are we ever going to see it all?”

“The hotel app has a map,” he said. “Plus there's signs and stuff. Have you figured out what you want?”

The aisles stretched on but she chose to walk down the closest one. “I'm not sure yet. If we're going to be here long-term, I think I'll need some new clothes. Everything I have is a little old and ratty-looking.”

"Clothes for the ratty girl, check. What else?”

Emma gave him a sharp look. “I think . . . some new shoes, and I should get some more personal items like soap and a toothbrush. And maybe some makeup, if they have it.”

“I'm sure they do. I know they have sunscreen.”

“Sunscreen?” Emma asked. “Why on Earth would I need sunscreen?”

“For lounging around the pool upstairs?” Henry pushed the cart along. “I mostly come down here for snacks. The vending machines only stock so much.”

“How often do you come down here? Don't tell me you go down to the supermarket every time you want a snack.”

“I keep a stash.”

Elisabeth had been following quietly. “When I first arrived in the hotel, I hoarded food in my room.”

“I understand,” Emma said. “You were making sure you wouldn't ever go hungry again, weren't you?” She didn't wait for a response. She knew.

“I'm sorry, girls,” Henry said. “But I hope you realize that hunger isn't a thing in this place. I won’t stop you from hoarding food, but you really don't need to.”

Emma and Elisabeth exchanged looks.

“It's just . . . hard to believe, given my past experience,” Emma said. She reflected that she must look fairly pathetic—a skinny girl looking wide-eyed at the abundance all around her. She thought of the starving people she’d known and then she thought of herself, who could take anything she wanted.

“I . . . I think I need a minute,” she said, turning and sitting on a nearby bench. She put her head in her hands.

Henry was suddenly beside her. ‘It's all right.” He placed a hand on her back. “It's okay.”

“Is it?” she said. “I feel like I should be saving all this for people who need it more than I do.”

“I'm sure you'd be generous, given half a chance.”

“But I can't be generous here, can I?” Emma gestured around the place. “There's no one to be generous to, no one who's starving. I just—I can't stop thinking about how many people would kill for a mouthful of food.”

“It's not any one person's job to save the world. You do what you can when you can and you hope for the best.”

"You make it sound easy. I've never been able to stop thinking and worrying. I feel so small knowing so many other people have nothing and I'm just sitting here—with everything I could ever want!”

“Hey,” Henry said. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” His eyes were a soft brown.

She looked at him, her own eyes full of tears. “I'm sorry. I'm always making everything so difficult.”

He chuckled. “Maybe so, but you’re worth it. And, and don't you think you've earned a rest? A chance to focus on yourself for a change?”

Emma was silent for a long while. “I suppose I have,” she said. The past years had been so full of hardship that she hadn't really had time to attend to herself. She'd just kept going and kept going, trying to push through till the end. She was only just beginning to realize how exhausted she was.

“The world can wait,” the boy said said. “And I'm pretty sure the same goes for you too, Elisabeth.”

Elisabeth said nothing, but slowly looked away.

“Let's think about the nice things ahead, eh?” Henry said. “The clothing stores on the promenade are still closed but I'm sure the supermarket has stuff that'll do for now. And we can visit the candy aisle, and the junk-food aisle, and maybe we can get a VHS player.”

Emma smiled, just a touch. The idea of watching a movie in her room was very appealing.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think I'd like that.”

Henry stood and took hold of the shopping cart again. “Lead the way, girls.”

Emma and Elisabeth stood up as well. They followed him through the aisles, picking up clothing, toiletries and personal items, and, of course, food. Emma was particularly happy to see that they sold chocolate and she found herself with a few bags and boxes of it.

There were modern brands in up-to-date packaging but there were also old brands looking like they were fresh from the factory. Emma picked up a few of the old-fashioned packages, marvelling at just how authentic they looked.

They were rolling down the cookie aisle when Henry sighed and reached for something. “Sugar-glazed egg crackers. I've been looking for these for ages!”

Emma smiled as he added the crackers to their shopping cart. “I take it they're good?”

“They were a childhood favourite.” He tore open the package and offered her a piece.

She bit into the cookie. The hard glaze was sugary and rough and the cracker was flaky and full of air pockets. She smiled. The sugar glaze was uneven and the larger bits were explosions of sweet, contrasting well with the crispy, salty cracker.

“You're right, these are delicious. Why are we even getting anything else?”

“Because there's more to choose from?”

“Fair point,” she said. “I suppose we can't eat only sugar-glazed egg crackers for the rest of our stay here.”

“You'd be looking pretty sugar-glazed after a while, heh heh.”

Emma rolled her eyes.

Henry turned to Elisabeth. “So, you found the supermarket on your first day here?”

Elisabeth nodded. “When I first arrived in the hotel, I was starving. And I was afraid that the feeling wouldn't go away, so I searched the hotel.”

“You found the dining hall, I'm sure.”

“I did, but being fed wasn't enough. I needed to surround myself with food, food that kept. And so, I continued to look, and I found the supermarket.”

“I found it too,” Henry said. “I just pressed all the elevator buttons to see where they'd take me.”

Emma laughed. “Of course you did!”

The boy grinned. “If not for pressing, then why button-shaped?”

She giggled. As for herself, she'd been too intimidated by her new surroundings to consider just pressing random elevator buttons. “Perhaps the better question is, when did you stop pressing buttons?”

“There's only so many buttons on the control panel, Emma.”

“Given enough time, I'm sure you could've found more.” She was feeling better now.

Henry looked at the cart, which was about to overflow. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked away. He came back pushing another cart.

“Oh yes, we'll definitely be needing that,” Emma said.

“I think one cart will be enough for food?” Henry asked. “It's not like you can't go back down anytime. The supermarket's self-service open 24 hours.”

“All this food, for anyone to take, all the time. That's astounding.”

“You need to pass through one of the archways with your key in your pocket. But basically, yeah.”

She found it hard to believe. She'd grown up in a world where food was always so scarce, so rationed, and now here she was. “I don't believe I even want to think about how they restock this supermarket.”

“Shall we go to the electronics section?”

“Of course. Take me to see all the electronical and technological wonders this place has to offer.”

“I was thinking of just getting a VCR. Have you been using the TV in your room?”

She shook her head. “No, I never noticed any. Too distracted by the bathtub, I suppose.”

“You know what a television is, right?”

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot. I just . . .” She gave a sheepish smile. “I really don’t remember anything like that in my room.”

“I’m pretty sure every room comes with a TV on a stand.” He picked up a VCR still in its box. “I'll help you hook this up, of course.”

Emma smiled. It had been a long time since she'd seen a movie in a proper theatre and almost as long since she’d watched a film at home. “I'd love that.”

They wheeled the two carts through an arch, which went ding, and then they squeezed into an elevator.

With two shopping carts, Emma and Elisabeth had to shuffle closer to Henry. Emma took a deep breath, suddenly aware of how close he was. She looked to the side. They were practically shoulder-to-shoulder.

He was looking over their haul. “Lotta clothes.”

She nodded, grateful to have something to talk about. There were dresses and jeans and T-shirts in the new styles. “We got a bit carried away.”

“Sure, why not. Gonna need to be laundered though.” He cocked his head at her. “How are you for clean clothes?”

She looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose. Her clothes were clean, but old and worn. “I’m running out.”

“The VCR may have to wait. Let's do the laundry before anything else.”

“By hand?” She was used to hand-washing her clothes.

“No, there’s a laundromat in the basement.”

They reached the fourth floor and wheeled the carts into the hall. Elisabeth turned out to have a room close to Emma's, which was comforting to know.

“I just remembered my own laundry,” Henry said. “Meet back here in a few minutes, okay?” He jogged off and Emma was left with Elisabeth, who helped her get her groceries into her room.

“Well, I suppose I'll start sorting my laundry,” Emma said.

Elisabeth shook her head. “It's not really needed with modern detergents.”

Emma's eyebrows shot up. “How will the detergent tell the colours apart from the whites?”

“The colours won't run,” the older girl said, looking at her from behind her glasses. “You might want to wash your new clothes and old clothes separately but that’s about it.”

“Gosh.”

“I'm still adjusting, myself. But between the new dyes and the new detergents I’ve had to rethink how I do laundry.”

Emma smiled. It was reassuring to know she wasn’t the only one playing catch-up. She picked up the hamper that came with the room and tried not to think about how faded her things were. She looked back at Elisabeth, smiling sheepishly as she held up one of her threadbare sweaters. “They were the only clothes I had left.”

“Believe me, I understand.”

Henry walked through the door. “I’m back! Get your laundry in the shopping carts.”

Emma nodded and tried to shove her old clothes under the new ones. “Elisabeth, would you like to do your laundry too?”

The older girl nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

A few minutes later they were squeezing into the elevator again. Emma stood next to Henry once more, wondering what he might be thinking of her old clothes.

“Heh,” he said. “Everything's going according to plan.”

“And what plan would that be, exactly?”

"The plan to get you to do my laundry for me! Or Elisabeth could do it, I'm not picky. As long as it ain't me.”

Emma poked him with her elbow. “Is that what this was all about? And here I was thinking you were being a friend. Turns out you were just using me!”

“Ferengi Rule of Acquisition 111: Treat people in your debt like family—exploit them!”

Emma laughed. “Oh, I should've known. You're clearly a true Ferengi at heart, whatever that is.”

The laundry proved to be on the same level as the supermarket, tucked to one side near the food court. There were tables and chairs and benches where they could watch the machines.

Emma looked around, fascinated at this new area. She looked at her laundry basket, then over at the washing machines and dryers. They looked pretty good considering all the hand-washing she’d done over the years.

“Are you having another flashback?' Henry asked. “Over washing machines?”

She gave a small smile. “I suppose I am.”

“It's okay, you know. Those times are passed. Things are different now.”

“But it's all so different from what I'm used to. What am I to do with my old habits and old memories?”