“I wouldn’t mind,” Mr. Rodriguez said.
I led them through the kitchen to the patio. Tony didn’t gape at Orro, but he definitely glanced in his direction.
I settled them on the back porch, went back inside to get the tea, and had to dodge as Orro nearly knocked me over with a platter. The platter contained a pitcher of iced tea, three glasses with ice and a plate filled with tiny appetizers that looked like very small, fried to a golden crispness crab cakes topped with a dollop of some white sauce and green onions.
“Thank you,” I mouthed and took the platter outside.
“Such a beautiful house,” Mr. Rodriguez said.
“Thanks.” I sorted out the tea and sat down.
Mr. Rodriguez and Tony both took an appetizer and chewed.
I tried one. Eating Orro’s food was as close as you could get to nirvana without enlightenment.
“Did everything go well?” Mr. Rodriguez asked.
“As well as it could have gone,” I said and sipped my tea. How to say this without being offensive or trying to imply. “I just settled him in his room. He seems comfortable.”
“Why did he take off?” Tony asked.
“He wanted a flower. It reminded him of home.”
“Ah,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “He’s probably on a hero’s journey.”
“He said as much.” As soon as they left, I would look this up.
“The Ku are a hunter-gatherer society,” Mr. Rodriguez said to Tony.
Tony looked at me with the long-suffering patience of an adult child who knew an educational lecture was coming and there was no way to escape.
“One can distinguish himself by being a great hunter or a great artisan. Those who can do neither sometimes decide to leave on a hero’s journey through the galaxy. They must perform a great deed and bring proof to their tribe. It would bring his family a lot of honor.”
Tony and I politely sipped our tea.
“I don’t mind taking him off your hands,” I said. “He seems comfortable here and really I have so little going on, I don’t mind keeping an eye on him. We only have three other guests right now, so he won’t bother anyone.”
“I thought as much,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “I have his things in the van.”
“No Oporians?” Tony asked.
The Oporians were basically a larger version of the Ku. Although they came from a different planet, they looked remarkably similar. They also thought the Ku were a tasty snack.
“No. Our permanent guest, a vampire, and a Hiru.”
“A Hiru?” Mr. Rodriguez sat up straighter. “That’s rare.”
“Yes, it was a bit of a surprise.”
“What did you do with the room, if you don’t mind my asking? The common wisdom says black and windowless, but I always felt some doubt about that.”
“It’s a bit difficult to explain. I can show you if you would like.”
I nodded at the inn. A screen descended from the wall and the image of the Hiru’s room appeared in it, with the glowing clouds. The inn always recorded still images just before a guest entered the room, so I would have a record.
Mr. Rodriguez stared at it. “Do you think I could see it? In person?”
He wasn’t asking to see the actual room. That would disrupt the guest’s privacy. “I’ll be happy to make a duplicate.”
Three minutes later we stood in an exact replica of the Hiru’s suite. Tony dipped his hand into the pool. Mr. Rodriguez stared at the clouds, his face lit by their glow.
“Why the sky?” he asked.
“It seemed right. The guest liked it. He loves to float and look at the sky.” He’d been doing precisely that for the last few hours.
Mr. Rodriguez frowned. “I don’t know if anyone told you this, but you have a gift.”
Oh wow. The highest compliment one innkeeper could give to another. “Thank you.”
He looked back at the sky. “Food for thought.”
“Of course, with the Hiru staying here there is the threat of Draziri,” I said. “What is the Assembly’s stance on Draziri?”
“Are you worried there will be repercussions against you if you continue to provide sanctuary?”
“No, but the Draziri bring a higher risk of exposure. They don’t care.”
“That’s not your concern,” Mr. Rodriguez said.
“Dad,” Tony said.
“Sorry, that sounded much harsher than I intended.” Mr. Rodriguez looked chastised.
“There are five of us,” Tony said. “He’s dealing with us all day so he can’t turn the Dad Mode off.”
“What I meant is, what the Draziri do is on them. You, as an innkeeper, have only one primary goal - to keep your guests safe. That is the foundation of who we are. You chose to accept the Hiru as your guest. It’s now your responsibility and duty to do whatever is necessary to keep him safe. Even if the Draziri choose to invade the planet because of it, their lapse in judgment isn’t your problem. Your obligation is only to your guest. The Assembly knows this. The Draziri aren’t the first threat we've faced and won’t be the last. We do not cower.”
Okay. Nice that we cleared that up.
“It’s good to know that the danger exists,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “I’ll help you draft a message to the Assembly. It’s the least I can do. If we have to contain a large-scale event, it’s always best to be prepared.”
“Thank you. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Are you kidding me?” Tony said. “Yes.”
“Apparently, we would.” Mr. Rodriguez grinned.
I led them from the room.
Dangerous or not, right or wrong, the Hiru was my guest. That part wasn’t in doubt. I would do whatever was necessary to keep him safe.
I still had no idea if I would take his offer.
* * *
We decided to eat on the porch. A Texas winter had more moods than an emo teenager, and since the day turned out to be freakishly warm and beautiful, it seemed a shame to waste it.
Orro had sprinted through the kitchen for hours, slicing, and tasting, and tossing spices, and the smell coming from his stove made me drool.
Mr. Rodriguez and his son sat outside, chatting with my sister, Arland, and Caldenia. I could hear Arland’s laugh from the front room. He sounded like a chuckling tiger. Helen and Beast ran around on the lawn. I'd found a spinball in the garage. The grapefruit-sized sphere zigzagged on the grass making wild turns and changing colors, and Helen and Beast were having entirely too much fun chasing it. They had invited the Ripper of Souls, but he’d declined and now watched them from the window, scandalized.
At first Wing refused to come out because facing Mr. Rodriguez was too scary, but the aroma of Orro’s cooking finally reached his room, and he too scurried to the table. Mr. Rodriguez pretended not to see him.
Everyone was here except for one.
I retreated to the kitchen and dialed Sean’s cell.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing for dinner?”
“This and that.”
He was probably going to eat by himself in an empty kitchen. I hadn’t seen him leave the subdivision that often. He probably didn’t even have groceries. I pictured Sean sitting alone at his table staring at a piece of moldy cheese.
“We are having a big dinner. You’re welcome to drop by.”
“I might.”
“I’d like that.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
I smiled, put the phone away, went down the hallway, and knocked on the Hiru’s door.
“Enter,” a quiet voice said.
The door opened and I stepped inside. The Hiru stood in the pool. The water came up to his neck.
“We are having a dinner. I know you don’t consume our food, but I came to invite you for company.”
“It is kind of you, but my appearance makes others uncomfortable.”
He knew. “They will adjust.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Then I won’t pr
essure you. On Earth, we show our friendship by sharing our food. Your presence isn’t a burden. We are happy to have you with us. If you change your mind, you are welcome to join us.”
“Thank you.”
I felt Sean cross the boundary, went to meet him, and led him to the table. He decided on a chair across from me. Everyone took their seats, including Orro. It had taken a few meals for Caldenia and me to convince him that we preferred he joined us at meals rather than hanging back in the kitchen by himself to observe us devour the results of his culinary wizardry. He finally condescended to make a distinction between casual and formal meals.
The feast was unbelievably delicious. Loaves of freshly-baked bread fought for space with smoked chicken and brisket so tender, it fell apart under the pressure of a fork. Big bowls offered refreshing salads, the first made with cucumber, tomato, avocado, and green onions, flavored by a delicious mix of oil and vinegar, and the second with cranberries, spinach, and some sort of honey dressing that turned me into a complete glutton.
Midway through the meal, the Hiru stepped outside. He didn’t sit at the table, but I pulled a massive wicker chair out of storage and he rested nearby. He said nothing. He just watched as we talked, laughed, and reached for our food. It was still better than waiting alone in a dark room.
“If I eat another bite, I’ll die,” Tony declared and promptly ate more brisket.
Sean, who’d been watching him like a hawk through most of the meal, finally cracked a smile.
“I’m done!” Helen announced.
“May I be excused?” Maud corrected.
“I may be excused,” Helen recited.
Maud opened her mouth and changed her mind. “Yes, you may.”
She grabbed the spinball from under the table and launched it onto the lawn. Beast shot out from under the table as if fired out of a small Shih Tzu cannon. The Hiru watched them dash around the lawn.
The inn chimed. Someone had crossed the boundary. Three someones, two from the east and one from the south.
I pushed with my magic. All around the lawn, the inn’s roots shivered just barely below the surface, waiting.
The southern intruder meandered up my driveway, taking his time. His two friends glided silently, moving along the edge of the inn’s grounds toward the lawn where Helen was playing. They were good. I should’ve seen them from this spot, but the property appeared completely empty. Judging by the pattern of their movement, they must’ve approached and then gone to ground.
Sean looked at me, his eyes dark. He either heard them or smelled them. I shook my head very slightly.
“Please excuse me.”
I picked up my broom, went to the front door, and flicked my fingers. A screen slid from the wall showing a human-shaped creature walking up the driveway, dressed in a long black trench coat. It flared as he strode forward. Rows of belts secured his sleeves. His hood was up, and pale hair, almost white, spilled from it.
Interesting. I hadn’t felt a guest quite like this before.
I opened the front door, leaving the screen door closed, leaned on my broom, and waited.
He didn’t walk, he glided like a graceful dancer, light on his feet.
Not a good sign.
The inn chimed in my head. The screen split, showing two shadowy figures, one lying flat on the grass and the other crouching behind a tree. Each carried a weapon, which the inn’s scan highlighted with white. Long barrel and curved stock. They carried needle rifles. A single shot from a needle would paralyze and sometimes kill, if the target’s weight was low enough. A needle wouldn’t penetrate the Hiru’s metal. The rifles were for us.
The intruder reached me. The house hid him from the street. He lowered his hood. In poor light, you could mistake him for a human. A beautiful, angelic human. His skin was an even golden tone and looked soft, like velvet. His hair, pure white, without a trace of gray or blond, streamed from his head, its ends tipped with black. His eyebrows were white too, thick, feathery, the ends touched with coal black. Large eyes looked at me from under the brows, the irises turquoise and full of inner fire, like two aquamarines. Glowing silver lines marked his forehead, curving in a complex pattern, embedded in his skin. His nose with a prominent bridge lacked curves over individual nostrils. Straight and triangular, it widened at the end into a semblance of a beak. An arrogant slash of a mouth and a human-looking jaw with a contour so crisp, it could’ve been carved out of stone, completed his face.
If you bumped into him in a club or saw him walking after dark, badly lit by the street lamps, you’d think, “What a handsome man.” But he was standing only feet away, brightly lit by the late afternoon sunshine. That perfect skin wasn’t bare epithelium, but a pelt of very short and dense down. What appeared to be hair at first glance was a mass of thin, fine feathers. A Draziri. One of the higher caste, too, judging by the rank on his forehead.
“Good evening,” he said, his voice cultured and clear. Unlike the Hiru, he obviously had access to expensive tech.
“Good evening.”
“I desire a room.”
“We don’t have one available at the moment.”
He blinked, his feathered eyelashes fanning his cheeks. “I was led to believe your inn has few guests and more than ample accommodations.”
“If you’re familiar with innkeepers, then you must know that we reserve the right to choose our guests. At this time, unfortunately, I can’t provide you with a room. Perhaps at a later date.”
“I must have a room,” he said.
“There is a wonderful inn over in Dallas, only a few hours from here.”
The Draziri stepped closer.
“I know the Hiru is here,” he said, his voice quiet but charged with menace.
“You should be on your way.” Take the hint.
“Let me in. It will be over quickly.”
“The Hiru is beyond your reach.”
“You have a beautiful inn,” he said. “I can hear other guests and a child playing on the grass.”
You bastard. They would shoot Helen. That was the plan. Shoot Helen and trade her or her dead body for the Hiru.
“Your situation is complicated,” he said. “I have led many raids in my lifetime. They can be easy and fast or slow and messy. There are so many beings on the grass who could accidentally get in the way. And a child. Such a lovely child. It would be a shame if she got hurt.”
The two others moved toward the lawn. The roots shot out, impaling both figures. There was no sound. No screams. I pulled with my magic. The roots sank into the ground, pulling the two bodies with them.
The conversation on the lawn died.
The roots surfaced behind him with a rustle.
The Draziri turned and saw two corpses suspended above the ground, each with a thick inn root piercing its mouth and exiting out of the back of the skull.
“You’re right. My niece is a lovely child. It would be a shame if something happened to her.”
The Draziri stared at me, unblinking. “You’re arrogant. I’ll have to teach you humility.”
I felt Sean behind me.
“You didn’t do your homework. This is my domain. Here I own the air you breathe.”
“I always get what I want. One way or—”
“Out.”
He flew from the driveway as if jerked back by an invisible hand, cleared the hedges, and landed on the street in a clump. A truck roared down the street, threatening to run him over. The Draziri leapt out of the way, like a length of black silk jerked out of sight, and vanished into the Avalon subdivision.
“You should’ve killed the scary white one,” Wing said behind me.
“Better the devil I know than the one I don’t.”
I turned. Wing stood in the kitchen doorway. The feathers of his crest lay so flat against his head, they looked wet. He was terrified.
“Do you know of Draziri?”
The Ku nodded. “They don’t kill because they are hungry. They kill because they like it.”
/>
“You’ll be safe here at the inn,” I told him.
“We have his face,” Sean said. “We’ll know his name, and then we’ll figure out what makes him tick.”
I dug in the pocket of my jeans, pulled out the dollar Sean had given me, and offered it to him. “You’re hired.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he said and took the dollar.
“I know.” I put my arm around Wing. “Come on, we haven’t finished dinner.”
Outside everyone at the table looked at me. Helen sat on Maud’s lap.
“They found me,” the Hiru said quietly. An awful finality resonated in his voice. He sounded like a being who was looking certain death in the face.
They found a world of hurt, that’s what they found. “Gertrude Hunt accepts your proposition. We will grant the Archivarius sanctuary.”
You could hear a pin drop.
“Why?” the Hiru asked finally.
“Because nobody threatens me or my guests in my house. They don’t get to intimidate me, they don’t get to harm my family, and they don’t get to kill my guests. They need to learn what the word no means, and I’m going to teach them that lesson over and over until they get it.”
Nobody said anything.
Arland reached over, speared a heap of brisket with his fork, and put it on his plate. Caldenia smiled without parting her lips and sliced through her chicken with a single, precise stroke of her knife.
“We’re going to have fun, my flower,” Maud told Helen.
Helen bared two little fangs.
“Dessert!” Orro announced. “Roasted pears with espresso mascarpone cream.”
“I’ll take two,” Tony said.
CHAPTER 6
I closed my eyes and envisioned the inn. When one entered Gertrude Hunt through the front door, they saw a perfectly ordinary front room. Directly opposite the front door, on the wall, hung the portrait of my parents. It was unavoidable. If you entered the inn, you saw the portrait. During the peace summit, I formed a hallway behind the wall, moving the portrait back slightly. If you walked to the portrait, you had the option of turning right or left. One way would take you to the stairs leading to the Holy Anocracy’s wing and the other would bring you to the barracks of the Hope-Crushing Horde. Both places opened to the Grand Ballroom. According to human science, I’d bent space in ways it wasn’t supposed to function, but the inn was its own microcosm, reaching through dimensional boundaries and tangling the fabric of space.