Sweep in Peace (Innkeeper Chronicles Book 2) (33 page)

Nobody said a thing.

The floor parted in front of me and a thin stalk of the inn lifted a platter supporting a glass tea kettle half-filled with wassa tea. The light within the platter set the tea kettle aglow, making the tea sparkle like a precious ruby. Or like blood.

The Horde stiffened. Nuan Cee visibly braced himself.

“There is a killer in this inn.” My voice rolled through the grand ballroom, a too-loud whisper charged with power. “A killer I will now punish.”

“By what right?” The question came from the vampire side. I had ratcheted the pressure to the limit. All of them were already on edge. If I weren’t careful, they would erupt.

“By the right of the Treaty your governments signed. Those who attack guests within an inn lose all protections of their homeland. Your status, your wealth, and your position do not matter. You are in my domain. Here I alone am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.”

I turned, my robe moving lightly along the floor, and began to circle the tea kettle. A projection spilled out of the ceiling: me sitting on the divan, Dagorkun serving the tea, Caldenia picking up her cup.

“One of you made an effort to move through the inn unseen. One of you employed a device that hid his or her image.”

The tension was thick, I kept waiting for it to crack like a thunderclap.

“This device was stolen and duplicated. The original was returned to its owner. The duplicate was used to poison the tea in this kettle.”

The ruby-red tea shone once, responding to the light.

“Who?” Arland demanded. “Who brought the device?”

“I did,” Nuan Cee said.

“You!” the Khanum snarled.

The darkness flared behind me like a hungry beast ready to devour. They fell silent.

“There are only three motives for murder. Sex. Revenge.” I paused. “And greed.”

A contract appeared on the projection, huge, almost nine feet tall, hanging like a banner from the ceiling. On it odd symbols lined up into words next to an image of Caldenia.

“Less than a day after the location of this peace summit became known, this contract went off the market,” I said. “Someone had taken the job.”

The symbols mutated into general galactic script, showing a number large enough to buy a small planet. Jack whistled in the back.

“Cai Pa?” Caldenia blinked. “You mean to tell me this comes from that sniveling worm of a magnate who decorated his palace with jewel-eyed portraits of his horrid family? After two decades, he still wants me dead over a casual remark?”

“Yes.”

Caldenia put her hand over her chest, her gloved fingertips barely touching her skin, leaned back, and laughed. It was a rich throaty laugh, showing off the forest of triangular sharp teeth inside her mouth.

Everyone stared.

“After all these years, I’ve still got it.” She chuckled. “Delightful.”

“The question is, why poison the entire kettle?” I said. “Three people would have drunk from it and all three would have died. The consequences for all factions involved would’ve been dire.”

I paced back, passing my hand above the kettle. It pulsed with a bright spark in response.

“An experienced assassin would’ve selected the time and place of his strike carefully. An experienced assassin would’ve weighed the risks and realized that such a crime wouldn’t go undiscovered or unpunished. The esteemed Nuan Cee is an experienced assassin, cunning, smart, and disciplined. He wouldn’t have taken that risk.”

I turned back. The motion of my walking was enough to keep my robe shifting, as if stirred by some mystical power, and I needed as much impact as I could get.

“No, this assassin was someone who hadn’t had a lot of practice. Someone inexperienced. Someone young. Someone desperate and easily tempted.”

Nuan Cee’s lips trembled baring a hint of his teeth. He just put it all together.

“Tell us, esteemed Merchant, what is the unspoken custom of your clan when a bright member of your family is about to reach adulthood?”

“The clan takes measures to make sure that the young one stays bound to the family for a while longer,” Nuan Cee said through clenched teeth. “It is done to preserve the family’s wealth.”

“Just like you have done with Cookie?”

The projection showed a close up of the emerald vanishing into thin air.

Cookie gasped.

“Yes,” Nuan Cee said.

“You arrange for a child approaching adulthood to make a mistake, a mistake that puts them in debt to the clan, which they then have to repay?” I had to really break it down so everyone got it.

“Yes.”

“And how many years of service does Nuan Sama owe you?”

The Nuan Clan parted as every member simultaneously stepped aside. Nuan Cee’s niece stood alone in the circle of her family members.

“Nuan Sama had made some additional mistakes,” Nuan Cee ground out. “Her debt to the clan is substantial.”

“It wasn’t me,” Nuan Sama smiled. “Why would I do such a foolish thing? I love my clan. I have no desire to leave.”

Wow. That was some serious chutzpah.

“When Hardwir repaired the vehicle with the molecular synthesizer, you were asked to assist him. You’re an expert in age sequencing.” I turned to the vampires. “What did Nuan Sama suggest before we began the repairs?”

“She said that we should try it on a complex piece of equipment to make sure the results were optimal,” Hardwir answered. I had already talked to him about it before the gathering.

“Did she provide such a piece of equipment?”

“Yes.”

“The esteemed engineer misunderstood” Nuan Sama said. “I brought him a part from our ship.”

“You brought me an image disruptor,” Hardwir said. “We duplicated it and then you took both of them away.”

“It is his word against mine,” Nuan Sama said.

“There were only three people besides the otrokari who knew the Khanum had invited me to her tea,” I continued. “Me, Her Grace whom I called directly after I received the invitation, and you.”

“The honored innkeeper has no way of knowing I was the only one,” Nuan Sama said. “After all, the honored innkeeper couldn’t even tell if her tea was poisoned.”

Nice. “When you dropped the poison into the kettle, you felt a puff of wind. Did you not wonder what that puff might have been?”

Nuan Sama shook her furry head, the many silver hoops gently clinking against each other. “I was never there.”

“That puff was a dye,” I said. “The inn had marked you. Shall we see if your fur is stained?”

A lamp sprouted from the ceiling. She didn’t wait for the light. Nuan Sama leapt straight up, flipping in the air as she tried to clear the crowd of her clansmen. A furry blur shot toward her. They collided in mid-air and landed back in the circle of the clansmen, her uncle next to her.

Pawed hands grabbed her, as her relatives rushed to restrain her.

“You took a contract not sanctioned by the family?” Nuan Cee’s voice was mournful.

“I did,” she snarled.

“Why?”

“Why?” Nuan Sama’s voice rose, shaking. “Why? Do you need me to tell you why? I’ve been an adult for four years. I want my freedom. I want my money, the money that was rightfully due to me on my majority and the one you and the rest of them stole from me. You’ve trapped me and you work me like I’m some indentured servant. Can’t you see, you’re suffocating me? I can’t even breathe the same air as you. It’s poison to me, uncle.”

The floor under Nuan Sama’s feet turned liquid. She began to sink. The foxes frantically tried to pull her out.

“Uncle!”

Nuan Cee spun toward me. “No!”

“She belongs to me,” I said, loading all my magic into my creepy voice.

Nuan Sama had sank in to her knees. She was screaming and whimpering now, making sharp fox noises as her family tried desperately to pull her free.

“She will be punished!” Nuan Cee cried out.

“I know,” I told him. “It won’t be quick or easy.”

“A favor from the merchants is worth more than the life of one unskilled assassin.” Caldenia murmured next to me. “I assume you have a plan, dear?”

“Yes,” I murmured.

Nuan Cee pivoted to Sean. Turan Adin shook his head. Yep. I didn’t think so. According to Wilmos, nothing in Sean’s contract obligated him to serve as a bodyguard to spoiled rich girl assassins.

The floor reached Nuan Sama’s hips. Desperation vibrated in her voice. “Help me, uncle! Help me!”

Nuan Cee turned to me. “Yes. Whatever it is you want, yes.”

I flicked my fingers. The floor solidified, trapping the fox in place. I needed a visual aid in case Nuan Cee developed second thoughts.

“What is this?” The Khanum’s eyes narrowed.

I heard the buzzing sound of a blood weapon being primed. The vampires were ready to rumble.

“The Holy Anocracy, the Horde, and the Merchants. All of you are responsible for spilling blood within these walls. All of you owe me a debt. I am calling it in. It’s time to settle your accounts.”

“What do you want?” Lady Isur asked.

“Your memories.” I touched my staff to the bulb. The fuzzy green sepals peeled back. Delicate, translucent flower petals unfurled, hair-thin and glowing with pale green near their base, then turning transparent, and finally darkening to a magenta toward the tips. Long, whip-like stamens, coated in soft blue light, stretched from within the flower, reaching and twisting, and inside, in the whorl of petals, the psy-booster glittered.

“You want to take our memories?” Dagorkun asked.

“Not take. I want you to share them with me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” the Khanum snarled.

“I do.”
You know why I am asking it. Your reason is standing right there, next to you.

George stepped forward, undid the clasp on his wrist cuff, and rolled the sleeve back, exposing a muscular scarred arm.

“You do not want this,” Robart said, his voice suffused with so much sadness. “You do not want to experience my memories, Innkeeper.”

“Yes, I do. This is my price. Your honor demands you pay it. If you do not, there will be consequences.”

I had no idea what those consequences would be, but it sounded impressive.

George rolled back his other sleeve.

“Very well.” The Khanum’s face was terrible. She stepped forward.

I shook my head. “No. Him.” I pointed my staff at the shaman.

Ruga’s eyebrows crept together. He walked forward and stopped before me, corded with dry muscle, his charms and totems hanging from the belt of his kilt. Odalon shouldered his way through the vampires and came to stand next to Ruga, resplendent in his crimson battle vestments.

I looked at the Merchants. Nuan Cee started forward.

Grandmother made a quiet noise. He stopped almost in mid step. Grandmother turned in her palanquin. The foxes carrying it lowered it to the ground. She rose within it and stepped out onto the floor.

Clan Nuan let out a collective gasp.

The elder fox crossed the floor and stood next to Odalon. I had the spiritual leaders of every faction.

“Form a line behind your faction,” I said. “Leaders at the very end.”

The grand ballroom rippled, as vampires, otrokari, and Clan Nuan formed three lines behind their respective representatives.

“Hold out your hands and take the hand of the person next to you. Skin to skin”

Metal slid as high-tech gauntlets fell away. Grudgingly they obeyed.

I looked to the back, where the Khanum, Arland, and Nuan Cee stood, each the end of their line. “Complete the circuit.”

The muscles on the Khanum’s jaw stood out as she clenched her teeth. Arland’s face might have been made of stone. The gauntlet slid off his hand. He held it out. The Khanum took it. Her expression was terrible. On the other side, Nuan Cee took Arland’s hand. Robart, the next in line behind Arland, turned and clasped his left hand on Arland’s shoulder.

“Sorry, my friend,” he said.

Arland braced himself. They thought they knew what was coming. They had no idea.

George held out his arms.

I pushed with my magic. The glowing stamens reached out, fastening around his arms. A muscle in his face jerked. He would feel the pain immediately. When the booster actually began drawing on his magic reserve, the agony would be excruciating. I glanced at Sophie. She nodded. We had made a deal, and I was counting on her to stick to it.

I planted my staff into the floor. It opened, unfurling into three long flexible metal branches. The branches shot to the three beings standing in front of me and clasped their free hands.

This would hurt. This would hurt so much.

I looked up, past the people gathered behind me to where Turan Adin stood alone on the floor. He walked toward me and grasped my shoulder with his clawed hand. We stood together, locked into a single living circuit.

“Do not let go,” I said, speaking to all of them. “If you do, you may not survive.”

I thrust my hand into the flower and pressed my palm against the psy-booster. Obeying my command, the inn reached out with a tendril and anchored my hand.

The magic of the inn swelled behind the flower and ripped through me, like a gust of incredibly powerful painful wind. It dashed down the chain, splashed against the leaders, and dissipated.