Beast whined at me.
“Not you too.” I shook my head. “I had a rough day.”
The Beast whined again.
I went into my bathroom. Here is hoping soap and hot water would wash today off.
“Resume recording,” I murmured.
The emerald bounced on the screen. Otrokari and vampires walked past it, preoccupied with their own tasks. The big green gem lay forgotten like a cheap glass bauble.
“Fast forward,” I instructed. “Four times the speed.”
The recording sped up. The otrokari and knights hurried about like actors from a silent movie, their movements exaggerated by the accelerated recording. An otrokar brushed by it. The emerald slid to the side. I yawned.
This would be so much more fun if Sean was here to make fun of it. He once called Arland Goldilocks and then told him that he should try to get his woodlands friends to help him if he got in trouble.
I pictured myself reaching into my mind, taking that thought out, and setting it aside. Sean Evans wasn’t here. Maybe I could make a deal with myself. Once the summit was over, whichever way it went, I would go down to Wilmos’s weapon shop and have a nice long conversation with Mr. Evans. Since he bugged me so much, I could ask him if he was planning on coming back in the near future. That way I wouldn’t waste my time obsessing over…
The emerald vanished.
“Stop!” I jerked upright and almost collided with the screen.
The recording froze.
“Rewind at normal speed.”
The screen blurred and suddenly the emerald popped back into existence on the floor.
“Stop. Play forward, one quarter speed.”
Slowly, part of the screen blurred slightly, moving toward the emerald. It wasn’t an obvious, pronounced blur, more like someone had taken a magnifying glass and passed it over the screen. I had never before seen anything like it. The inn’s sensors weren’t infallible, but they were pretty close.
The blur touched the emerald and the green gem vanished.
“Thermal imaging, same time.”
The screen blinked. A blob of yellow with a bright red center passed over the emerald. So whatever this was shielded the wearer from thermal imaging as well. It had to be some kind of device that was projecting a field that tampered with the inn’s feed. My stomach churned.
Someone moved unchecked in my inn and I didn’t know how or why.
In my inn. In Gertrude Hunt.
I had to find out and fast. The lives of my guests depended on it, because while this was going on, any guarantees of security I promised weren’t worth the hot air that came out of my mouth as I made them.
I stared at the distortion on the screen. You want to play games? Fine. I will find you and when I do, you won’t like what will follow.
Chapter 9
It was Thursday and we were back in the grand ballroom, watching the negotiations stall. Three days had passed since I discovered tampering with the inn’s recordings. I was no closer to finding the culprit. I still didn’t know who took the emerald. The cat still hid. Once or twice, while half-asleep, I felthim on the edge of the bed, but when I woke up, he was always gone. I made sure he had water and food and I cleaned his litter box, but that was the extent of our interaction. I clearly failed at making friends. The otrokari and the vampires were still bored and irritable, despite the distractions I provided. And most importantly, the peace summit still made no progress.
The only thing I managed to accomplish was to ensure that Orro’s banquet was scheduled and ready to go tonight.
At the far end of the grand ballroom, a large otrokar rose, his gaze fixed on a point behind me. I’d been reading up on the otrokari war classes and he looked like a basher to me. During war, his kind wore the heaviest armor the Horde could provide and were fitted with arm guns that fit over their shoulders and limbs and weighed over a hundred pounds each. Bashers were huge mobile guns. They punched through the enemy ranks, while lighter war classes hid behind them, and rained death on their opponents. This particular specimen was over seven and a half feet tall with shoulders that were probably too big for my front door. If he ever had to negotiate it, he’d have to turn sideways.
I turned so I could see the summit meeting taking place behind the transparent partition and the basher at the same time. At the negotiations table, the Marshall of House Vorga leaned forward, his fists on the table. When vampires confronted danger, they unconsciously tried to make themselves larger, like cats before a fight. Lord Robart positively loomed over the table, his face contorted by fury. The soundproof barrier robbed him of his voice, but he looked like he was screaming. Well, at least his fangs weren’t bared.
The male otrokar started forward, moving deliberately, his head lowered slightly, his eyes unblinking, their gaze focused on Lord Robart with terrible intensity. Oh-oh.
Jack peeled himself from the wall by the partition and casually strolled down on an intercept course.
The Khanum said something, her face projecting derision.
And here go the fangs.
A slim, hard looking otrokar female smoothly moved into the big soldier’s path. “Where are you going, Kolto?”
“I’m going to wring his neck,” the large otrokar growled.
“First, you won’t get through.”
“Watch me.”
“And if you did manage it, the Khanum would rip off your balls and make you eat them. She’s got it. If she needs our help, she’ll call for it.”
Behind the partition, Dagorkun said something, his pose relaxed, his arms crossed on his chest. The other two otrokari guffawed. The Khanum cracked a smile. Lord Robart did his best to propel himself and his high tech armor into a massive leap, but Arland, Lady Isur, and the Battle Chaplain grabbed him and pulled him back. Nuan Cee put his furry head on the table, face down. Lord Robart snarled, his fangs out, trying to break free.
This wouldn’t end well, I just knew it.
“See, she has it,” the female otrokar said. “And you’re still in one piece.”
The male otrokar frowned at her. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t know.” The female otrokar arched an eyebrow. “Maybe I have an interest in you staying intact.”
She turned and walked away, joining a group of three other otrokari.
The male otrokar frowned again, his brain obviously trying to figure out why the female otrokar would be interested in continued safety of his genitals. Then his eyes lit up. His expression turned speculative. Yes, she likes you, big dummy.
George made some sort of placating gesture and squeezed the top of his cane. The partition drained down, and Lord Robart marched out, his face still contorted with rage. Lady Isur and the Battle Chaplain chased him. Arland bore down on me. “Lady Dina. We need privacy. He doesn’t need to be around his people right now.”
I unsealed the main entrance. “The front room and the kitchen are yours.”
“My thanks.” Arland raced after Robart.
I opened the side entrances and watched everyone pile out. Once everyone was secured, I went into the kitchen.
Lord Robart sat at the table, his face murderous. Arland leaned on the wall next to him. The Battle Chaplain hovered nearby, his crimson vestments framing his big body like tattered wings. At the island, Orro chopped celery and carrots into small pieces, grimly ignoring the presence of the vampires.
I got out three mugs, dropped a bag of mint tea into each, and ran hot water from the Keurig into each one. “We’ll never make progress this way,” Arland said quietly.
“Don’t talk to me about progress,” Robart snarled. “You want progress. You want to give them everything. Does your honor mean so little to you? Is that how far your House has fallen?”
Arland opened his mouth.
“This is why we haven’t triumphed,” the Battle Chaplain said, his voice deep and deliberate. “We would rather war with ourselves than our common enemy.”
I used a teaspoon to fish th
e tea bags out, added some honey to each mug, and brought them over.
“Thank you.” Odalon accepted his cup and sipped the tea. “Mint.” He smiled with appreciation. “Delicious.”
Arland took his mug. Robart pushed the mug away. “I don’t want it. I need neither calming nor healing.”
“You’re being childish,” Odalon said.
“Spare me your lectures. You’re free to question my piety, but stay out of how I run my House.”
Odalon sighed.
“May I ask a question?” I took another chair.
Robart stared off to the side, ignoring me.
“Of course, Lady Dina,” Arland said, putting a particular emphasis on lady.
“My apologies,” Robart ground out. “Please, ask your question.”
“It’s my understanding that Nexus has a single landmass. The Holy Anocracy holds a large portion of this continent to the north and the Horde holds an almost equal portion to the south. Clan Nuan holds a smaller portion to the east, but their territory is the best geographical location for the space port. Am I correct?”
“In essence,” Robart grumbled. “The magnetic anomalies of Nexus make it difficult to build any permanent deployment structures. We are forced to drop supplies and troops from orbit via shuttles. Clan Nuan has the only functional gravity tube on the planet, which means they can transport goods and personnel in relative safety.”
I had taken a gravity tube once. It was an enormous elevator that stretched from orbit to the surface and traveled at supersonic speed. The science behind it was magic and riding it almost made me throw up.
“This is why Nuan Cee is seeking peace,” Arland explained. “The Nexus’ main value is in the deposits of Kuyo, the liquid mineral we require for our continued war effort. It’s heavy. It’s hard to mine and harder to transport. The merchants wish to make money on the shipments of Kuyo from Nexus. They know we’ll be forced to use their facilities.”
And knowing Nuan Cee, he would count every day he wasn’t charging the Horde and Holy Anocracy an outrageous tariff as the day he lost money.
“We tried to overtake the gravity tube a few times, but we failed,” Odalon said.
“They have Turan Adin,” Robart said, his face grim.
The three vampires paused.
“Who or what is Turan Adin?” I asked.
“Turan Adin is a creature of war,” Robart said and drank some of his mint tea. “He breathes and lives battle. Slaughter runs in his veins. The Nexus was settled almost twenty years ago in Nexus time and he has been there since the very beginning. He is the rassa in the red grass, the shirar in the deep water. The demon of that hell.”
“We don’t know where the merchants found him,” Arland said. “We don’t even know what he is. But he’s incorruptible and indestructible. He has ran their mercenary army for the past two decades. He learns, he adapts, he never tires.”
“But as things stand, both you and the Horde can mine Kuyo to use for your military needs?” I asked.
“Yes,” Arland answered.
“Then why not just let things stand as they are?” I asked.
Robart stared at me. “You are not a vampire. You are not a knight.”
Arland put his hand over his face.
“Then help me understand,” I said.
“The land that the Horde holds is stained with our blood,” Robart said, his voice barely controlled. “Only when they are gone can that stain be wiped clean. Would a surgeon remove half of a malignant growth and leave the rest, satisfied with what he already accomplished? Would a hunter skin half a carcass and leave the rest of the precious pelt to rot? We must kill them or drive them off that world. Anything less is a mortal sin. It is an ancient law. Suffer none who would seek to stand on the ground you have chosen. Thus the writs tell us.”
“The Hierophant does not share your interpretation,” Odalon said.
“The Hierophant saw it fit to change his mind,” Robart said. “But I did not change mine. My father died in Nexus’ blood fields. The woman I loved more than life itself, the woman I wanted to bear my children, lost her life there. Her light…” His voice broke and he squeezed his fists. “Her light is gone. To look upon the Horde’s territory on Nexus is to dishonor her memory. When I stand before the gates of the afterlife, and my father and my almost wife meet me and ask if they were avenged, what will I tell them? That I was too tired of fighting? That I couldn’t spare any more blood to be spilled in their name?”
“What will you tell the spirits of all who stand behind them?” Arland asked. “What will you tell them when they ask you why you threw away their lives in a fight we cannot win.”
“We will win.” Robart punched the table. “It is a righteous war. A holy war!”
“It’s logistics,” Arland said. “Neither we nor the Horde can shuttle enough troops to Nexus to ensure a decisive victory. We lost two transports just last month. What will you tell the soldiers inside them? They didn’t even get to taste the battle.”
“They knew the risks,” Robart barked.
“Yes, but they trust us to lead us into battle. They trust us to not waste their lives. I will not sacrifice any more of my knights on this pointless war.”
“If you’re too weak, then I will find another ally.”
Arland strode to the Keurig and I heard the water pour. If he needed more tea, I would have gotten him some.
“Like House Meer?” Arland asked, opening the refrigerator. “The cowards who wouldn’t even fight?”
“At least House Meer refuses to honor your pitiful attempts at peace,” Robart said. “Their dissent is…” He inhaled.
I smelled coffee. Oh no.
Arland returned to the table with the mug. Judging by the color, at least a third of it had to be the hazelnut flavored creamer from my fridge.
“Lord Arland,” I sank a warning into my voice.
“What is this?” Robart looked at the cup.
“A drink for real men,” Arland said. “I wouldn’t recommend it. It doesn’t suffer the unprepared.”
Lord Robart turned to me. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
“That is a terrible idea,” I said. “The drink contains…”
“Here,” Arland handed his coffee to Robart. “If you insist. I shall get another.”
“No!” I reached for the cup.
Robart gulped the coffee. “This is interesting. It’s delicious, but I’m awaiting that profound impact you promised me.”
He drained half a mug.
Oh crap. Coffee had the same effect on vampires as alcohol on humans. He’d just downed an equivalent of half a whiskey bottle.
“You know what your problem is, Arland?” His voice slurred slightly. “You’re a… coward.”
Odalon blinked.
Robart drank another mighty swallow. “All of you,” he waved his index finger around, “are cowards. We must be primal. Resolute. Like our ancestors. Our ancestors didn’t need… weapons. They didn’t need armor. They had their teeth.”
He bared his fangs, clenched his right fist, and flexed his arm.
“Of course they did,” I murmured, keeping my voice soothing. Maybe he would just sit here and tell us about his ancestors and that would be that.
“And they hunted their enemies.” He finished off the mug and flipped it upside down on the table. “This dung.” He looked down at his beautiful armor. “I don’t need this dung.”
I knew exactly where this was going. “Grab him!”
Arland didn’t move. Odalon stared at Robart, his eyes wide.
Robart hit his crest. The armor fell off him, revealing a black shirt and pants underneath. He yanked the clothes off his body. “To hunt!” Robart roared and shot out of the back door into the rain.
Damn it.
Orro paused his chopping, rolled his head back, and let out several barking snorts.
“It’s not funny. Arland!” I pointed at him with my broom.
“He needed it,” Arla
nd said, his tone unrepentant.
I squeezed the words through my teeth. “Go get him, my lord, before he hunts a car and Officer Marais hauls him in for questioning.”
Arland sighed and took off after Robart into the rain.
“Why do you always strip naked when you’re drunk?” I asked Odalon.
“This happened before?” The Battle Chaplain’s eyebrows crept up.
“Lord Arland drank some accidentally last time he was here.”
“It must be the armor. We live in it, so we remove it only in the safety of our homes. If your armor is off, you are clean, safe, and free, probably well fed and possibly ready to meet your partner in the privacy of your bedroom.” Odalon’s somber face remained stoic, but a tiny mischievous light played in his eyes. “Did Lord Arland mentioned his cousin’s Earth-born wife by any chance while he was indisposed?”
I kept a straight face. “Possibly.”
“The universe is vast and we’re its greatest mystery,” Odalon murmured and followed Arland outside.
I sat in the front room, going through the recording of the phantom, who stole the emerald. I decided that phantom was better than invisible blob. I’d reached some conclusions.
One, the phantom was definitely alive. It wasn’t a machine. I managed to isolate a six second video where I could see it move through the crowd based on a slight shimmer. The phantom moved to avoid people in its way and it clearly stepped over other gems and gold on the floor, choosing to move through stretches of empty floor. If the phantom had been a machine, it would have to have reasoning abilities and it would have a complicated mechanism of locomotion. If it had simply rolled on wheels, I’d see things nudged out of the way.
When each delegation entered the Grand Ballroom, I had the inn scan them for weapons. I knew the otrokari brought in a gun, although I didn’t expect them to actually fire it. The inn didn’t register anything with advanced robotics or artificial intelligence or anything that had artificial legs.
Two, since the phantom was alive, he or she had entered the inn with one of the delegations. I would’ve felt an intruder.
Sweep in Peace Page 15
