One Fell Sweep

  The big Quillonian bowed his head. “As you wish, innkeeper.”

  Wing set the object he had whittled onto the table. “Done.”

  He’d carved a remarkably lifelike version of Kiran Mrak. It was only a foot tall, but the face was unmistakable, and the detail in the feathers and even the folds of his tunic was exquisite.

  “Wing, that is beautiful. You have talent.”

  The small Ku regarded the statue and held out his hand. “I’m ready.”

  Orro put a long metal skewer into Wing’s hand. The tip of the skewer glowed bright red.

  “What is that for?” I asked. Wing was the last person I would trust with a heated skewer.

  Wing focused, chanted something under his breath, and stabbed the statue.

  Aaaa!

  “Wing!”

  He stabbed it again and again in a frenzy. “This is old magic. My planet’s magic. My ancestors are greater than his ancestors. They will rip him apart. You will see.”

  I slapped my hand over my face.

  He picked up the scarred statue and smashed it against the table. He jumped on it, bounced up and down, and clawed it with his foot.

  “Is it working?” he asked. “Is he dead?”

  “I didn’t hear a scream,” Orro said.

  Wing’s eyes shone with determination. He reached for his tunic.

  “If you’re going to urinate on it, go outside!” I pointed to the door. “Outside!”

  Wing took his statue and went out to the back.

  A chime echoed through the inn, the alarm I had set to let me know when Lord Soren was about to drop in from orbit.

  “Lord Soren is inbound,” I announced.

  “Then I shall change.” Her Grace rose and floated off. “One must observe the proprieties.”

  On the screen my sister and Arland were still pummeling each other.

  “Everybody is so concerned with proprieties, they might just spar themselves to death,” I muttered.

  Sean glanced at me. “Would you like me to slip into something more comfortable?”

  I pointed my broom at him. “Don’t push me, Sean Evans.”

  He laughed.

  I stepped into the backyard and dropped the void field. Around me the Texas evening was burning down, the sky a deep purple, the trees dark. A figure appeared in the branches of the trees just past the inn’s grounds, as if by magic. Most likely Kiran Mrak just took off his camouflage cloak. He was letting me see him. How nice. A little reminder for me that he was always there and always watching.

  A red star appeared in the sky, streaked down, flared, and released a knight of the Holy Anocracy. I raised the void field.

  Vampires tended to become wider with age. Not fatter but bulkier, more muscled, more grizzled. Lord Soren was a fine example of a middle-aged vampire. Hulking, with a mane of brown hair liberally shot through with gray and a short beard, he looked as big as a tank in his armor. I had a feeling that if he planted himself and a semi rammed him at full speed, the truck would just crumple around him. Considering his serious expression, he was in no mood for nonsense.

  “Lord Soren,” I said, turning my back to the woods. “I wish we were meeting under different circumstances. Please come inside.”

  He stomped into my kitchen and I shut the door behind us.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, but I have come for my nephew.”

  Lord Soren had two sound settings: roar and thunder. He was trying to be polite and so he confined himself to a moderate roar.

  “These little vacations and excursions when he disappears without warning are becoming legendary. People are whispering. The Marshal of House Krahr is gone again. Where is he?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him.

  “It’s time to grow up. It’s time to join the House when matters of importance and state are to be discussed, in which his opinion as Marshal is required. Is there not enough at home to occupy his mind?”

  I started walking toward the ballroom. Lord Soren followed me.

  “He took his destroyer to Karhari for no reason. He was attacked.”

  “He won,” I said.

  “Of course he won!” Lord Soren’s eyes bulged. “He is my nephew! He took them on seven at once, and he tore through them like they were children. His recording has been shared across the Anocracy.”

  Oh no. Arland had gone viral.

  “We’ve received four – four! – offers of a potential match in the last two days.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was proud or upset or both.

  “The boy has potential. He has talent. But does he apply himself? No. It is time to take a wife. It’s time to produce children. He isn’t going to live forever and he is far too young to retire. He can’t just take off whenever he wants like some sort of cosmic vagabond without a family or duty. There are certain responsibilities. If he didn’t want these responsibilities, he should’ve thought about it before he fought the other eligibles for the post of the Marshal. Do you know what he told his aide?”

  Lord Soren stared at me for a second.

  “I-”

  “He said to tell me that taking this holiday would make him happy. I don’t want him to be happy.” Lord Soren pounded his gauntleted fist into his other palm. “I want him to be an adult! I want him to deal with his duties. I want him to get a wife and make children so our House doesn’t wither. He was doing so well until he visited Earth. Really, this fascination with Earth women has to end.”

  The ballroom door opened in front of us and I led him into the cavernous room.

  “I understand the appeal. However, no Earth woman would ever make a suitable spouse for a Marshal. For one thing, they’re not familiar with any of our customs. They do not understand our society. They don’t grasp the significance of family ties or our politics. They are not even equipped to defend their offspring…”

  Maud chose this moment to jump up and wallop the side of Arland’s head with her sword. He snarled and swung his mace. She rolled out of the way and grinned at him. “Try harder, my lord.”

  Helen laughed like a little bell ringing.

  Lord Soren closed his jaw. “Who is that?”

  I gave him a sweet smile. “It’s an Earth woman.”

  We watched Arland and Maud dance across the ballroom, Arland delivering devastating blows and Maud dancing out of the way, agile like a cat. Finally, Arland managed to slam her into the column. My sister shook her head a couple of times and said something, I couldn’t tell what, since he was still pinning her to the column. He said something back. She raised her eyebrows and tapped his bicep with her hand. He let her go.

  Maud started toward us. Helen jumped off the dais and snarled at Arland. Arland raised his arms to the sides and roared dramatically. They ran toward each other. Arland picked Helen up and threw her in the air about twenty feet high. I gasped. He caught Helen. She squealed.

  “Lord Soren,” I said. “My sister, Maud, and her daughter, Helen. Maud, this is Lord Soren, Lord Marshal’s uncle and Knight Sergeant of House Krahr.”

  Maud smiled and bowed her head. “I believe I’ve met your second cousin, my lord. Lord Cherush on Karhari.”

  Lord Soren finally recovered. “My lady. How is my, arhm… cousin?”

  “Fair as usual. He still meets with Kaylin of House Setor every fall. They talk of raiding the Karim to the south, but never do. It’s not profitable. The cost in fuel alone would be higher than whatever they would get from the tribes. Lord Kaylin’s ward, Eren of House Phis, is of a marriageable age and your cousin’s second son is still unmarried and has expressed his interest, so I believe it is all for the best.”

  Lord Soren puffed his chest. “Phis? My second nephew wants to marry into the House of those cowards?”

  “Not the Southern Phis, my lord. Give the poor boy some credit. Eren is from the Northern branch. Her mother was of House Toran, daughter of their Knight Sergeant. There is good blood there, and as you know, the Torans still hold the northern port. The allia
nce would benefit Lord Cherush in his fur trade.”

  Lord Soren heaved a heavy sigh. “Does she have all of her fingers and teeth, at least?”

  “She is a lovely girl. Very good with an energy rifle.”

  “I shall have to write to my cousin,” Lord Soren said. “It’s been ages, after all.”

  “Indeed. He mentions you fondly. If you'll excuse me, my lord, I must refresh myself. Your nephew is quite vigorous. One would think that a man who had taken the full onslaught of a World Killer would be in his bed, moaning in pain, yet here he is.”

  “World Killer?” Lord Soren blinked.

  “He has saved us all,” Maud said.

  Lord Soren puffed out his chest.

  “A lesser knight would’ve died. Truly, Lord Arland is proof that an exceptional bloodline bears an exceptional fruit.”

  Lord Soren puffed himself even bigger. “He is the pride of our House.”

  “Without a doubt.” Maud bowed her head. “Good day, my lord.”

  “Good day, my lady.”

  Arland turned, holding Helen while she was pretending to slice his neck with her dagger and pretended to finally notice his uncle. “Uncle! There you are.”

  Lord Soren pondered the two of them for a long moment and walked toward them.

  “You have no shame,” I murmured to Maud.

  “No,” she said. “Also, as vampires go, Arland isn’t altogether terrible. I simply smoothed the way. That was the least I could do. He saved my baby.”

  My sister walked away. Lord Soren puzzled over Helen, then turned to his nephew. “Tell me of the World Killer.”

  CHAPTER 12

  I walked the length of the ballroom, making sure I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. Helen watched me, her eyes big and round. Beast lay by her, four paws in the air. When Helen forgot to pet her furry stomach, Beast wiggled until petting resumed.

  I stood in the center of the floor where a mosaic depicted a stylized version of Gertrude Hunt, raised my broom, and pulled with my power. Bright tinsel and strands of golden lights spiraled out of the floor and wrapped about the beautiful columns. Garlands of pine branches studded with gold and white glass ornaments and wrapped with sparkling ribbons traced the walls. Vines sprang from the ceiling, dripping down large delicate poinsettias, their white and red petals glittering, as if dusted with fairy powder. Wing would like that.

  The floor at the far wall split and a massive Christmas tree rose, growing out of a fifteen-foot-wide drum. I sank the drum just below the floor level and let the mosaic close over it. I’d gotten this tree last year, the second Christmas in the inn. It came to me cut, and then the inn touched it with its magic, and overnight it had rooted and grew. It was twenty feet tall now, full and healthy, its green needles ready for the decorations, which appeared out of the wall in a dumpster-sized bin.

  I waved my hand and the inn gently plucked a five-point star from the top of the bin and lowered it onto the tree top. It blinked and glowed with golden light.

  Helen stared at it in awe. “Christmas?”

  “Christmas,” I told her.

  The look in her eyes was everything.

  “Look at this.” I reached into the bin and picked out a glass orb. About the size of a large grapefruit, and ruby red, it glowed gently, as if fire was trapped within. I held it out to her.

  “Breathe on it.”

  Helen blew a puff of breath onto the glass. A tiny lightning storm burst inside, the crimson lightning kissing the glass. She giggled.

  “Where should we put it?” I offered her the sphere.

  She pointed to a branch seven feet off the ground. “There.”

  I held out the orb. “The master decorator has spoken. If you please…”

  A thin tendril slipped from the wall, picked up the orb, and neatly deposited it on the branch.

  “Is there more?” Helen asked.

  “There is more,” I told her. “This whole box is full of treasures from all around the Ggalaxy. It’s a magic box for a magical tree.”

  I dipped my hand into the bin and drew the next ornament out. It was a little bigger and crystal clear. Inside a tiny tree spread black crooked limbs. Triangular green leaves dotted its branches and between them clusters of light blue flowers bloomed. Everything within the globe, from the details of the roots to lichen on the trunk, was amazingly lifelike.

  “Oooh. Is it real?”

  “I don’t know. The only way to find out is to break it. But if we broke it, that would be the end of the mystery.”

  She put her nose to the glass. Her eyes crossed slightly, trying to focus on the tree. She was killing me with cute.

  “You can keep it,” I told her. “That can be Helen’s ornament.”

  Her face lit up. Helen stepped toward the tree, turned, catlike on her toes, and looked toward the door.

  The Hiru had left their room and were coming toward us.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I told her.

  “They smell,” she whispered. “And they look gross.”

  “I know. But they are still sentient beings. They never hurt anyone. They are gentle and the Draziri hunt them and kill them wherever they can find them.”

  “Why?” Helen asked.

  “Nobody knows. Try talking to them. Maybe they will tell you.”

  “Why do you protect them, Aunt Dina?”

  “There are killings that are justified. Killing someone who is trying to kill you is self-defense. Killing a being who is suffering and is beyond help is mercy. Killing someone because you don’t like the way they look is murder. There is no room for murder in this inn. I won’t stand for it.”

  The two Hiru made it through the door, Sunset in the lead, moving one step at a time, their mechanical joints grinding despite lubrication. The odor of pungent rotten fish hit us. You’d think I would get used to it by now, but no. I strained to not grimace.

  The Hiru came closer. Helen looked a little blue. She was trying to hold her breath. The smell must’ve been hell on vampire senses. Sean never gave any indication it bothered him, but it had to be terrible for him.

  Helen opened her mouth with a pop, pointed at the tree, and said, “Christmas!”

  “Yes,” Sunset said, his voice mournful.

  Sean walked into the ballroom and moved along the wall, silently, like a shadow. He leaned against a column, watching the Hiru.

  “The needled one explained it,” Moonlight said. “It is a time for family.”

  “Do you have family?” Helen asked.

  “No,” Sunset said.

  “Where is your father?”

  “He died,” Sunset said softly.

  “My father died too,” Helen told him. “Where is your mom?”

  “She died too.”

  Helen bit her lip. “Do you have sisters?”

  “I had two.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They are dead.”

  Helen hesitated. “And brothers?”

  “Also dead,” Sunset told her. “We are what remains of our families, little one. We are the last. We have nothing.”

  Helen pondered him with that odd intensity I noticed about her before, stepped toward the Hiru, and held out the ornament to him. “Here.”

  “What is it?” Sunset asked.

  “A gift for you.” Helen stepped closer. “Take it.”

  He reeled. Servos whirled somewhere within the Hiru, desperately trying to deal with what he was feeling. “A gift?” the translation program choked out, turning emotion into a screech.

  “Yes,” Helen put the ornament into his palm. “Now you have something.”

  Moonlight made a choking noise.

  The Hiru swayed. His legs quivered. Somehow he stayed upright. “It is very beautiful,” he said, his voice suffused with emotion. “Thank you.”

  He turned and held it out to Moonlight. Their mechanical hands touched. They held it together for a long second and then she gently pushed it back into his palm.

  ??
?That one is yours, but there is more,” Helen told him. “Come, I’ll show you.”

  She took a running start and scrambled up the side of the bin to perch on its edge.

  The Hiru followed her, holding the ornament gently in his fingers.

  “He is a tari,” Moonlight said quietly. “His family doctored the trees.”

  “What did your family do?” Any crumb of information was helpful.

  “We studied the pathways between the stars.” Her head swiveled toward me. “We came to tell you that you don’t have to help us anymore. We put you in danger. We put everyone in danger. The next Archivarian is in a place from where it cannot be retrieved. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

  “That isn’t up to the two of you. You are my guests. I have duties and responsibilities and you can’t cancel them. Where is the next Archivarian?”

  “In the Sanctuary of Eno. Only a select few gain access to it. We are not welcome. You are not welcome. Those of the Sanctuary will not release the Archivarian to allow us to continue.”

  I looked at my Christmas decorations and sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was to leave now.

  “She’s right,” Sean said.

  Moonlight made a little hop. She mustn’t have realized he was there.

  “The Sanctuary is run by some sort of cult,” he said. “They kill anyone who enters uninvited.”

  “They’re not cultists,” I told him. “They are prophets. They see into the future. They won’t release the Archivarian, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

  “Inconceivable,” Sean said. “What do you think it means?”

  “It means Holy Seramina wishes to see me,” I told him.

  * * *

  “You’re not going alone,” Sean said.

  “Arland is injured. He put on a good show for his uncle, but he’ll need all the help he can get.”

  “You’re an attractive target,” he said. “They take you out, they take out the inn’s greatest defense. Kiran Mrak is scum but he isn’t stupid. You need protection. Maud can’t come with you, because she’s the only other innkeeper we have. Arland is recovering. That leaves me. This is my judgment as a security operative.”