“He’s right,” Arland confirmed. “You’re a high-priority target. If they eliminate you, their chances of killing the Hiru rise substantially.”
“How safe would you be out in the open?” Sean asked me.
“Perfectly safe as long as I’m on the inn’s grounds.” I could block any kinetic projectiles and the inn could absorb most energy bombardments with my direction. “Do you want me out there to play bait?”
“Yes,” Sean said. “Does the inn have something that could bombard the land outside of the boundary?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“A weapon that won’t draw attention from the street but will be dangerous enough to scatter the Draziri.”
Gertrude Hunt was a lot stronger than it used to be. Still, its resources were limited.
“Does it have to be precise?”
“No,” Sean said. “As long as it has an impact.”
It was my turn to smile. “If you want impact, I’ll give you one.”
A short shadow fell on the doorway.
“Wing?” I asked.
The Ku stepped into the open. His feathered crest lay completely flat on his head. He was terrified. “I fight.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I fight,” the Ku said. “I want to help.”
He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Sean.
“We can use you,” Sean told him.
* * *
The sun was setting. Twilight descended on Texas, turning harmless trees dark and twisted. I opened the kitchen door, dropped the void field, and walked out into the backyard, Beast on my right and Wing armed with one of Sean’s weapons, a short simple-looking rifle, on my left. I’d asked Sean what it was and he told me it was the space equivalent of a sawed-off shotgun.
We reached the middle of the lawn. I stopped. The soil shifted and slid under me.
For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then a volley of shots, energy and kinetic, tore through the dusk, coming at me from a ragged semicircle. There you are.
Roots burst from the ground, dragging a wall of dirt with it to shield me from the worst of the barrage. The broom split in my hand and I plunged it into the ground. Magic poured out of me.
The lawn belched. Three rocks the size of a washing machine burst from the ground. I heaved with my magic. The boulders rolled at the Draziri. Wing fired, his rifle spitting pale blue projectiles. They landed in the trees and the brush, expanded like water balloons, and exploded silently in bursts of bright blue light. The glow caught fleeing shapes of Draziri, scattering through the brush. The boulders chased them, spinning along the boundary.
A twisted spiral of deep purple spun into existence above the ground, directly over the entrance coordinates. Individual Draziri broke free of the trees, trying to avoid my rocks and sprinting toward the forming vortex, light on their feet as if they could dance on air.
I pushed. The grass between the vortex and the boundary erupted and spat Arland in full battle armor. The Marshal of House Krahr roared and charged the ragged Draziri line. He tore into them like a bowling ball, mace swinging. A single hit sent a Draziri flying onto the inn grounds. The roots wound around her body and hurled her through the trees back the way she came.
Arland raged, loud and terrifying. The Draziri stabbed and cut at him and he tore through them, immune to fear and pain. The blood mace crashed down again and again, crushing skulls and breaking bones. I couldn’t see it, but I knew that behind the battle, in the dark, my sister and Sean sliced through the Draziri ranks from the sides, like the two blades of scissors.
The vortex was almost complete.
A scream tore the night. Another. The Draziri dashed to and fro, panicking.
The vortex spat an Archivarius member. An argon tank rose from the lawn. The being stepped into it and the tank sank into the ground. Got him.
A second shape loomed within the vortex, a grotesque clunky shape. Another Hiru was coming through.
A large projectile shot out of the tree line. In the split second it flew over the inn’s territory, my magic told me what it was. I shoved a doorway in its way, ripping through the fabric of our world. The missile tore through the hole in reality, sped over an orange ocean, and crashed into alien waters. Kolinda’s ocean screamed. A mountain of water and vapor burst upward, blooming like some horrible flower.
Panic shot through me, a delayed response. Icy sweat drenched my skin. My heart hammered so hard, it felt like it might break my ribs. The muscles in my neck clenched so hard, vertigo gripped me.
I shut the door before the blast wave could reach us.
The Hiru landed on the grass. The vortex dissolved into empty air. I jerked the roots up, shielding the new guest from the Draziri and let Gertrude Hunt carry him away underground.
Maud leaped over the boundary. A moment later Arland emerged from the woods, dragging bodies with him, as Sean, shaggy with gray fur, all fangs and claws like some demonic nightmare, moved around the vampire knight, slicing at the Draziri. Arland punched an opponent with his left fist. Sean caught the falling Draziri, stabbing in a flurry. Another attacker lunged at Sean’s back and Arland drove his mace into him.
Together Sean and Arland backed away from the woods toward the inn. Arland was breathing hard, his mace dripping blood. Dents and gashes marked his armor. The fur on Sean’s right shoulder was wet and black in the light of the dying evening. I couldn’t tell if it was his blood or someone else’s.
Step.
Another step.
They made it over the boundary. I snapped the void field in place.
Blood dripped on Maud’s cheek from a gash in her scalp. Dirt smeared her face. She saw me looking and grinned, her teeth stark white.
The tree line was littered with corpses. One, two, three… seven…
“I know this,” Arland said quietly, almost to himself. “I fought against this…”
Sean straightened. His fur vanished, his body collapsing back into his human form. Slowly he wiped the blade of his green knife on his thigh.
Arland pivoted to him. His gaze snagged on the knife. A muscle jerked in his face.
Sean didn’t say anything.
Rage shivered in the corner of Arland’s mouth.
The Marshal of House Krahr bared his fangs and charged.
Sean moved out of the way, smooth and fast, as if he were a shadow rather than a physical being.
Arland swung again and missed.
“You!” Arland roared. “Fight me, oryh. Fight me!”
“No,” Sean said and dropped his knife.
I took a step forward. Sean shook his head.
I could stop it, but if I did, it wouldn’t be resolved. They had to fix it themselves.
“Fight me or die!”
“You’re my friend,” Sean said and raised his hands.
Arland swung his mace. Sean didn’t dodge. The blow took him in the stomach. Sean flew back.
Arland charged after him, his eyes berserk and hot with unstoppable fury.
Maud lunged into his path and threw her arms around him. “Stop!”
He plowed on, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.
“Stop, Marshal!” Maud’s voice rang. “He’s unarmed. He’s your friend. There’s no honor in this kill.”
Arland slowed.
“Honor,” Maud repeated, her hands around his face, looking straight into his eyes. “He who sheds his blood to defend my back in battle is my brother. I shall watch over him as he watches over me.”
Reason crept into Arland’s blue eyes. He pulled away from her, raised his head to the night sky, and roared.
“Innkeeper,” a familiar voice called.
I turned. Kiran Mrak stood at the boundary. Behind him his clansmen waited, some with black feathers, some with bright blue, and vibrant red and rich cream. They stared at me with open hatred.
“I didn’t give the order for the missile,” he said.
“You fired a nuclear weapo
n,” I said. “You broke the treaty. There will be repercussions. There is no turning back.”
“There was a dissension in my ranks. It’s something you and I have in common.” Kiran Mrak raised his left hand. He was holding a severed Draziri head. “I’ve dealt with mine. It is your turn.”
I turned my back to him. He laughed.
“I don’t kill those I care about,” I said over my shoulder.
“You’re weak.”
“You murder your own family. Loyalty is a two-way street.”
He laughed again.
I kept walking.
Wing marched to me, stared at the Draziri behind me, turned and deliberately kicked dirt in their direction.
Sean rolled to his feet and picked up his knife.
Arland lifted his mace and stomped toward the house. Maud walked next to him, her arm wrapped around his.
Sean was waiting for me. I hurried over to him. “Are you hurt?”
“A cracked rib,” he said. “It will heal. He held back.”
It didn’t look like he held back from where I was standing. “Come on. I’ll help you with your rib. We need to talk.”
“Yeah,” he said. “We do.”
When I walked into the kitchen, Caldenia smiled at me, clearly delighted. “Very good, dear. Just the right thing to say.”
“I’m glad you approve, Your Grace.”
“A creature like Kiran Mrak rules because he has the mandate of his people. His followers are his base. Crack the base, and he will come crashing down.” Caldenia put the fingers of her hands together. “This will be delightfully entertaining.”
I turned to the two Hiru. Sunset stood in front and the newcomer behind, as if Sunset was shielding the new guest. I had a feeling that if the Hiru weren’t so bulky, the new arrival would be peeking out at us over his shoulder. It would have helped to know that the second Hiru was coming prior to the battle. I opened my mouth to tell them that.
The new Hiru pointed at me. “Is this her?” Its voice was soft, sad, and feminine.
“This is her,” Sunset said. “This is Hope.”
* * *
I stood in the middle of the empty room. A six-foot-wide circle of soft turquoise light marked the floor around me, identifying the boundary of the recording area. I wore my blue robe with the hood down and held my broom in my hand.
It took some time to settle the two Hiru. I wasn’t sure if the Hiru had genders, but if they had been human, I would’ve guessed our new guest to be female. She was smaller than Sunset, her sad voice was higher pitched, and when the other Hiru spoke of her, his translation software used “she” as the identifying pronoun.
However, the galaxy was a big place. While dual sexes and sexual dimorphism occurred often enough, it was only one of the myriad of configurations for procreation and sex. The Garibu had three sexes and six genders, the Allui males were smaller and more fragile than females, and the Parakis formed a mating ball, where everyone went through a three-stage molting process, during which they changed sex twice. When one of these beings visited Earth, their translating software struggled to assign gender to make alien speech palatable to humans, often with hilarious results. So, I wasn’t sure if the new Hiru was truly female, but since Sunset referred to her as she, I referred to her so as well. After I took her to see the Archivarians, she told me her name. She was called Moonlight-on-the-Water.
Moonlight loved Sunset’s room. She walked over the threshold and gave a little gasp. He reached for her, and they walked toward the pool together, their metal arms touching. That’s where I left them, floating in the basin and staring at the clouded ceiling.
The Hiru settled, I went to look for my sister and found her in the kitchen carefully spooning coffee she’d brewed into a mug half-filled with eggnog. She shrugged and told me Arland needed it. And then she took it up to his rooms. I thought about telling her that the last time the Marshal of House Krahr had coffee, he stripped off his clothes and ran around my orchard in broad daylight, flaunting the gifts the vampire goddess gave him until Sean finally tackled him, but she did make fun of me when I’d called for Sean, so I decided to let her discover the wonder that was drunk Arland on her own. She had measured that coffee very carefully, so maybe Arland would manage to keep his clothes on.
I checked on Helen, who’d fallen asleep in her room, with the cat curled up by her feet. I checked on Wing. The battle shook him up and he’d reenacted his heroic deeds for me just to make sure that they were truly heroic. Confirming the heroism took a little longer than expected. It was 10:40 pm now and my window for communication with the Assembly was approaching.
Tension twisted the muscles of my neck. This would be the third time in my life I addressed the Assembly. The first time, I just stood by my brother’s side, as Klaus petitioned the Assembly for assistance in finding my parents. That time we heard nothing for over a month, after which the Assembly expressed its condolences and informed us that their investigation uncovered nothing. The second time I petitioned them for my own inn. The reply had come in twelve hours with the name of the inn and Gertrude Hunt’s address.
I ran the message through my mind one more time. I’d rehearsed in my head six or seven times now. It was correctly worded: no names, no addresses, nothing that would lead back to me if it was somehow decrypted by a third party. I shouldn't have been this nervous, but tension had clamped me like a bear trap and refused to let go.
Sean slipped into the room, the wall behind him sealing the moment he entered. I’d invited him. He wanted to check the grounds first, which in his speak meant he wanted to scout the Draziri and see how much damage we’d managed to inflict. I asked him to find me when he was done and told the inn to show him the way. I’d hoped to talk to him before I sent the message, but it was too late now. We’d have to speak after. It was better this way anyway. I wasn’t in any shape to talk until the message was out.
The scanner snapped to life, bathing me in the light and setting my blond hair aglow. I almost jumped. I’d programmed the scanner for 10:40, but it startled me all the same. I was wound up too tight.
The light focused on me.
The galaxy birthed many languages, but one of them was older than most, so old it was almost forgotten except by innkeepers and those like us. I opened my mouth and the lilting words of Old Galactic rolled off my tongue like a song that was as ancient as the stars.
“Greetings to the Assembly. I bring two matters before you. First, two of my guests are Hiru. Tonight the Draziri besieging my inn fired a nuclear missile at the inn’s grounds. To save the lives of my guests, I directed it off world. I deeply regret the resulting loss of life and hope no sentient beings have been harmed as a result. I do not require assistance at this time.”
There. I made a formal notification that the treaty had been breached. The ball was in their court. I’d included the coordinates of the nuclear explosion and they could view the evidence for themselves.
“Second, I was attacked by an unknown enemy at Baha-char. It was a creature of darkness and corruption. With the assistance of friends, it was defeated and brought to my inn, where the corruption attempted to leave its host and infect me and the inn itself. The corpse is contained, but I do not know how long the containment will last. Before sealing the body, I took a DNA sample, and a match was found in the database. The body belongs to an innkeeper, a friend of my family. I’ve enclosed the evidence for your review.”
The blue light changed to deep indigo as the scanner encrypted my message, chewing up data and images I’d attached into a chaotic mess decipherable only by innkeeper decryption protocols.
A digital clock appeared on the wall. Thirty seconds to communication window. I cut it a little closer than I should have. Twenty seconds.
Ten.
The scanner light pulsed with white. The message was off.
“What now?” Sean asked.
“Now the Assembly has to decide what to do. I’ve done my part.”
“How do
es that work?” he asked. “Do they poll all of the innkeepers?”
“They can if the matter concerns a change to innkeeper policy. This almost never happens. Most of the time, things like this are discussed among heads of the twenty-five oldest or strongest inns on the planet. I think Mr. Rodriguez is part of that twenty-five. When my parents…”
I’d almost said when my parents were alive. I pulled way back from that thought. I couldn’t think like that. They were alive now. Until I saw evidence of their death, irrefutable evidence, I had to think of them as alive and I would look for them.
“When my parents’ inn was active, my father and mother shared a single vote among twenty-five. My father was unique and his input was valued.”
“When will you know something?” he asked.
“It’s impossible to say.” The wall parted in front of me, opening into a long hallway. I walked into it and Sean joined me. “They may choose to send some reply back, they might act on it without telling me, or they might ignore me.”
“This doesn’t seem like the most organized system,” Sean said. “If you needed help and asked for it, there is no way to know if you’ll get it.”
“Each innkeeper is a world unto herself,” I said. “It’s the way it’s always been. There were times in history when we spoke in one voice, like when we banned a species from Earth for gross disregard of the treaty.”
The tunnel opened and we walked onto a wide covered balcony with a sunken fire pit in the center and a ring of couches around it, strewn with bright pillows. A kettle waited, hanging off a hook on a metal pole. Sean raised his eyebrows.
“The Otrokar quarters?”
I nodded. “I don’t know why, but sitting by the fire makes me feel better.”
The fire had already been laid out. Sean took a lighter from the side table and lit it. The hot orange flame licked the logs. The tinder in the center of the stack caught fire, cracking. The flames spread, gulping the logs. Warmth spread through the balcony.
I picked up the tea kettle dangling from the ceremonial stick and hung it on the metal rail above the fire.
Sean sat across from me on the bright pillows. “The Khanum would approve.”
I nodded. That’s how the Otrokars made their tea for hundreds of years.