“Françoise, they were banished almost immediately.”
“Oui?”
“So maybe they didn’t have time to pack.”
She blinked at me, the hats suddenly forgotten. “Zen zere weapons . . . you sink zey might ’ave left zem ’ere?”
“I think they might have left them in Faerie,” I corrected. “It was a fey lord that I saw running around with one. And since we’re facing the return of a god . . .”
“Eet would be nice to ’ave one of zere own weapons to fight heem with.”
I nodded. “Look, I know it was a long time ago. But time runs differently there, and the fey live a lot longer than we do. And if something was left . . . well, they would keep it, wouldn’t they? Prize it, even? They always seem to be fighting—”
“Zey are always fighting zee Dark Fey,” she corrected. “And zey do not need godly weapons for zat. Still . . .”
“Still?”
Her forehead wrinkled some more. “I did not know much of zere language when I first arrived, and I was just a slave. And zey do not tell stories to slaves. But zee man who bought me, he liked to claim zat he was descended from zee gods.”
“Did you believe him?” Because it didn’t look like it.
She scowled. “Non, I do not believe. I do not theenk he was descended from any god, unless eet was from Zeus’ cochon.”
“Cochon?”
“Ees peeg.”
It took me a second.
“His pig?”
“Oui.” Françoise nodded decisively. “As I say, peeg.”
I smiled. “And what did Zeus’ pig tell you?”
“Eet ees not what he say, but what he ’ave. A banner that his father carried into battle. A great battle, when zee fey say, zee gods fought beside zem. But zee gods, they whair already gone by zen. . . .”
“But maybe some of their power wasn’t.”
She nodded.
“Did you hear of any unusual weapons while you were there, even rumors? I need to know if any still exist, and if so where they are now. And who has them.”
She shook her head. “I was not looking for a way to fight, but to flee. But I could ask zee Dark Fey.”
“The ones here at the hotel?”
“Oui. Zey do not like to talk about zee past, but eef I tell zem eet is for you . . .”
“Would that help?”
She looked surprised. “You treat zem with respect. And you helped zem—zey do not forget zat. Few ’ave ever bozered.”
“Then ask them about the battle, and the staff. It was called the Staff of the Winds. For a while, it was the personal weapon of the Blarestri king.”
“Zee Sky Lords,” Françoise said, her eyes widening slightly, the way everyone’s seemed to when they talked about the leading group of Light Fey.
“That’s what I was told. I don’t know for certain that the staff was a leftover godly weapon, but if it wasn’t, it should have been. And where there’s one, there might be more. I need to know if they’ve heard—”