Clean Sweep Page 14

  The darkness parted in front of me, walls and dimensions compressing and spinning in a dizzying rush. Looking at it would be enough to send an entire university's worth of string-theory physicists into fits. Sounds of distant male voices arguing filtered through. Of course. I'd left them alone for a few hours. I took one last look at the heart of the inn behind me, sighed, and stepped through the chaotic mess into the hallway leading to the foyer.

  * * *

  "If Dina dies, I will eat you, dear." Caldenia said it with complete aplomb.

  "You may find it very difficult, Your Grace," Arland answered.

  "No, she'll find it easy once I'm done with you," Sean said.

  Caldenia smiled. "I'm amused you think I'll need help, but very well, you may have him first. I do enjoy my meat properly tenderized. Please try to keep comminuted fractures to a minimum."

  "What kind of fractures?" Sean frowned.

  "Comminuted. That's when bones splinter into shards and pieces. It's quite difficult to dig them out of my teeth while maintaining decorum."

  I touched my hand to the wall and sent out a push to isolate the room.

  The front door melted, turning into a wall. The light outside changed slightly, gaining a pale orange tint. The doorway to the kitchen sealed itself. So did the upstairs landing, just out of sight. My body protested against magic expended, but if you're going to punch a vampire, you have to punch him hard. This would be one hell of a shock to the system.

  "I have done nothing wro—" Arland started.

  The northern wall melted, obeying my will. Arland stopped in mid-word. Sean froze in his tracks. Caldenia rose slowly.

  An orange plain rolled outside under the purple sky. The wall had opened on top of a cliff and from this angle the vast expanse of the wastes looked infinite. The sun had set, but the distant west was still on fire with carmine and yellow. The moon, enormous, taking up half the horizon, hung above us to the left in the dark sky, the stars behind it bright and sharp. Under it, pale yellow grass climbed up the harsh flame-colored dunes. Scraggly trees, their twisted branches dry, stood here and there, supporting flat crowns of green needles.

  The plain stared at them and exhaled in their face, filling the room with the dry bitter scent of grass and something else. Something animal and feral. It was a wild, nasty scent that slashed across your instincts like a knife and whispered straight into your mind. "Something big is near. Something hungry and vicious."

  The ground shuddered. A colossal creature strode into view on six gargantuan legs, each big enough to flatten a car. It moved fast, the six legs gripping, the long segmented tail with a heavy barb on the end snapping as it trotted. The dying light played across its purple hide.

  Sean opened his mouth and stayed that way for a second. Arland's right hand was opening and clenching, probably looking for the handle of his sword.

  The monster paused and suddenly reared, resting its bulk on the base of its tail, towering above the plain like a semi set vertically on the road. Its dinosaurian neck bent, swiveling the wide head right, then left. Six pairs of blood-orange eyes scanned the grass. The beast inhaled, fluttering its nostrils. We must've smelled odd.

  The beast's giant maw opened so wide it looked like its head had been cut in two, baring a forest of traffic-cone teeth. The creature roared.

  It was a sound most civilized beings would never hear, but if they did, they would remember it forever. They would recognize it even in their sleep, and if they heard it again, they would stop talking and thinking and they would find the nearest dark hole and hide in it.

  Both Arland and Sean tensed and looked behind them.

  "The exits are gone," Arland said.

  "I saw." Sean shrugged his shoulders as if getting ready for a sprint.

  I stepped out of the shadows and walked between them. As I stepped into the light of the fading sunset, my robe turned russet, shifting its silhouette slightly to adjust itself to the different world.

  "What is this?" Arland asked.

  "Kolinda. The inn exists in more than one place. There are doors between worlds and some of them lead here. There are two kinds of keepers on Earth: the innkeepers and the ad-hal."

  The monster on the plain turned toward us, finally pinpointing the source of the odd smells. I turned my back to it.

  "Ad-hal is an ancient word that means secret."

  "Dina," Sean said, looking over my shoulder.

  "All those who enter our world are subject to the treaty ratified by the Cosmic Senate, and treaty's most important provision is that it must remain secret."

  The ground shook, sending vibrations through the floor. The monster was galloping toward us.

  "Those who lose their inn or the children of the innkeepers who have no inn to keep sometimes become the ad-hal," I said. "They serve the Senate here on Earth. When someone actively tries to expose the innkeepers, they come. This happens very rarely, but it does happen. They apprehend the guilty and take them to places like this."

  The entire inn shook now. The six-legged beast was climbing the cliff toward us.

  "My lady!" Arland took a step forward

  "There will be no shuttle," I said. "No dimensional gate, no magic portal. No rescue, no way to call home. There is only you and the wilderness."

  I turned slowly, just in time to see the furious eyes and then huge teeth.

  A cloud of fetid, hot breath washed over me. I tapped the broom on the floor. The wall reappeared, transparent. The beast snarled, confused, but no sound came through. It clawed the empty air in front of it, but we were beyond its reach. My robe reshaped itself again.

  "Today the stalker attacked me in plain daylight in front of witnesses in a crowded store. I did everything I could to contain the exposure and as a result, I almost died. By withholding the information, you and the House Krahr become complicit in that breach."

  Arland's eyes narrowed. "So this is a threat?"

  "I don't threaten my guests, my lord. I have no need to do so. This is a reality check. If the dahaka keeps attacking, I can't guarantee I can conceal it. Nobody can make that promise, because it doesn't care. If the herd of cattle it slaughtered hadn't looked like they'd been attacked by wild animals, the secret keepers would be here already. If the ad-hal come for you, I won't protect you. Not only can't I, but I won't. Your secrets endanger all of us and the safety of my guests is my first priority. If you are discovered, your House will be dishonored and banned from Earth."

  I sat down.

  "We have a saying here. The ball is in your court. I believe you have a similar expression."

  "The krahr is eating your horses," Arland said. His face was grim. "If I tell you, what guarantees will I have that this knowledge stays in this room?"

  "Who would we share it with?" I asked.

  Arland looked at Caldenia. She shrugged. "The inn is my permanent residence, as you may have heard."

  The vampire turned to Sean.

  "Yes, I'll take it to the evening news, because I always wanted to be seen as a complete madman. I would enjoy being locked up for the rest of my life. And my parents, who are still on the planet and are still alien, would be so proud."

  "A simple yes would be sufficient," Arland said.

  We all waited. He sat down and opened his mouth. "It started with a wedding."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "How amusing." Caldenia arched her eyebrows. "Usually it ends with a wedding."

  "Who was getting married?" I asked, turning the wall behind me opaque and opening the exits. I'd made my point and keeping the gateway open was draining the inn's resources.

  Arland shrugged his shoulders, settling into his chair. "My second cousin. I was in the middle of it due to my rank, and it was a nightmare. Small things go wrong and normally sensible people become prone to hysterics over it. The issue of flowers alone... When I get married, I fully intend to pass all preparations on to someone else. As long as they tell me where to show up, I couldn't care less about how the ribbons
are folded and whether they are the right shade of red."

  Arland nodded toward the door to the kitchen. "You opened the doorways. Does this mean you've decided I'm trustworthy?"

  "No, I just want a cup of tea." I rose and walked over to the kitchen. "Would anyone like anything?"

  They shook their heads. I made myself a cup of Earl Grey and came back to my seat.

  "A number of our friends and allies had been invited to the wedding, including House Gron," Arland continued. "Our Houses had been on peaceful terms for a long time, and three years ago we signed the Pact of Brotherhood."

  "Pacts of Brotherhood are rare," I said for Sean's benefit.

  "Yes," the vampire confirmed. "Treaties are forged and broken all the time. A Pact of Brotherhood is a binding thing. We swore to the alliance in a Cathedral of Chains and Light. This isn't something that can be dismissed with a casual stab in the back."

  "Why would you bind yourself in this manner?" Caldenia asked. "Attachments of this sort tend to drag you down."

  Arland sighed. "It's a complicated matter involving trade routes, mutual enemies, and an illegitimate child. I could detail it for you, but suffice to say that an alliance was in our best interests. We are involved in an operation that hinges on a great deal of joint planning. The wedding was meant to underscore our Houses' continued commitment to one another."

  "Let me guess," Sean said, his face dark. "Someone was murdered."

  "The Band Bearer," Arland said.

  "They use armbands and bracelets instead of rings," I told Sean. "The Band Bearer safeguards the bands during the ceremony. It is an honor to be one."

  "The Band Bearer was a knight of significant renown and extremely difficult to kill," Arland said. "Someone ambushed and murdered her in a rather gruesome way. We found her on the morning of the wedding. When the Cathedral Gates were opened, the entire wedding party saw her bloody corpse hanging from the ceiling, the sacred chains wrapped around her throat." His eyebrows came together, his face hard. "She was my youngest aunt. Our House was dishonored, our Holy Place desecrated, and the DNA and blood of a member of House Gron was found on her body."

  The insult had been monumental. Not only had someone slipped into the heart of House Krahr territory, but they had murdered a knight at a wedding in a church. The House of Krahr had to deliver swift vengeance or lose their reputation within the Anocracy.

  "What did you do?" Caldenia asked.

  "We kept the results of the molecular analysis to ourselves or we would've had an immediate bloodbath on our hands. Only a handful of people know. Privately we met with House Gron and they denied all charges. They couldn't explain the presence of the foreign blood on Olinia's body, but I've known Sulindar Gron since we were four. We are the best of friends and brothers-in-arms. He swore his people didn't do this and I'm inclined to believe him."

  Caldenia narrowed her eyes. "Why, because of sentimental childhood attachment?"

  "No, because Sulindar is an insidious, conniving bastard. It was too obvious for him."

  Vampires. "Did you ever find the primary crime scene?" I asked.

  Arland shook his head. "No. But my aunt did draw blood from her attacker. He'd used a vaporizer to hide it; however, we found traces of an unfamiliar fluid on her teeth. It took three precious days before we identified it as belonging to the dahaka. Their species is rare and he would have been noticed, so he hadn't come through by normal channels. We don't know how he got in or how he got out."

  "The plot thickens," Caldenia said.

  "It was an assassination." Arland bared his fangs. "That in itself is weak. What vampire needs to hire an assassin? But more importantly, it was designed to create a rift between Krahr and Gron. You have no idea how long we had worked on that joint offensive. This entire situation is a hissot."

  "What does that mean?" Sean asked.

  "A knot of poisonous snakes that is epic in its vileness." Frustration vibrated in Arland's voice. "Two seasons of planning, gone. There are fifty thousand Krahr followers demanding the guilty be punished, whoever they are, and about as many Gron cohorts placed on alert because their leadership thinks we are preparing to invade them in retaliation. It isn't enough for the dahaka to die. We must find who hired him. He could be working for our enemies, for some third party, perhaps even for Gron. This is the reason my uncle was injured. He wasn't trying to kill the dahaka. He was trying to capture him."

  Sean leaned forward. "I saw what it did to your uncle's men. Trust me, we don't have the resources to hold it."

  "Spoken like a sergeant," Arland said.

  Sean gave him a flat stare.

  "Don't get me wrong, sergeants are the backbone of the army. A good one is worth his weight in gold. But they do not concern themselves with the bigger picture. It's not just about revenge. It's about the stability of two Houses. The dahaka must be taken alive."

  Sean crossed his arms.

  "By myself, I'm outmatched," Arland said. "However, we share common interests. You want the dahaka gone from your planet and so do I. Together we have a fighting chance."

  "We don't have enough people to capture it," Sean said. "This is a simple fact. If you think about it for a moment, you'll come to the same conclusion."

  "We could lure it onto the inn grounds."

  "It won't work," I said.

  "What makes you so sure, my lady?" Arland asked.

  "I spoke to it."

  The vampire stared at me. I'd seen this precise expression on Sean's face before.

  "When was this?" Arland asked quietly.

  "When Sean brought Lord Soren in. I felt a disturbance, went outside, and saw it on the lamppost. We had a conversation."

  "And you didn't feel the need to tell me?" Arland asked.

  "No."

  Sean already knew—he'd seen the dahaka running away. But since the vampires hadn't been forthcoming with information, I'd kept it to myself.

  Arland opened his mouth, but no words came out. Some sort of monumental struggle seemed to take place. Finally some words emerged. "That was extremely unwise."

  "Not telling me your purpose on this planet was even more so."

  Sean smiled his handsome-devil smile.

  Arland considered it. "Very well. That I deserved."

  Sean looked at me. "I've been meaning to ask you, what did it want?"

  "Lord Soren."

  Sean frowned. "Why?"

  "Bonus," Caldenia murmured.

  We looked at her. She waved her hand with an elegant flourish. "Ignore me."

  "The dahaka struck me as smart and vicious. It holds us in complete contempt—it called me meat. But it didn't attack and none of its stalkers made a serious effort to rush the inn. It knows what I am, and it's very careful not to enter the grounds."

  "Could you restrain it if it did?" Arland asked.

  "On the grounds, possibly. In the house, definitely. But it's not likely to let itself be lured to the inn."

  Arland rocked back and exhaled, venting frustration. "There has to be a way to trap it. With all due respect, you are just an innkeeper, my lady. You have no experience with hunting prey."

  Okay, then. Glad we decided to clear that up.

  "Perhaps we could flush him out," Arland said.

  "Not without attracting attention," Sean said. "Attention is the last thing we need."

  "Agreed." The vampire bared his fangs.

  They stared at each other, then looked at me.

  I shrugged. "I'm not a mighty hunter. I'm just a Southern belle who stays home, bakes cookies, and possibly serves mighty hunters iced tea if they happen to drop by."

  Arland blinked.

  "You broke it, you fix it," Sean said.

  The vampire leaned forward and focused on me. His eyes turned warm, and a charming, self-deprecating smile lit his face.

  Wow.

  "I didn't choose my words tactfully, my lady. I'm only a man, after all, and a solider, unskilled in the way of polite society. I've dedicated myself to the s
ervice of my House. My business is that of blood and slaughter, and I haven't been fortunate enough to be refined by a woman's gentle touch."

  Sean coughed into his fist. One of the coughs sounded suspiciously like "bullshit."

  "I ask humbly for your forgiveness. I neither deserve nor expect it and therefore appeal only to your compassion. Should I be fortunate enough to be forgiven, I promise to never repeat my transgression."

  Unfortunately for Arland, I had encountered a few vampires before. "A vampire of a different House once told me something very similar. He even knelt on one knee while he said it."

  "Did you forgive him?" Arland hit me with another smile. Vampire smiles should really be outlawed.

  "While I was busy thinking it over, he leapt at me and tried to break my neck with his teeth, so no." I'd been fifteen years old at the time and it was an excellent lesson in vampire manners. Despite their beautiful faces, their religion, their ceremonies, their charm, vampires were predators. If you forgot it even for a second, you risked your life, because they always remembered.

  Arland opened his mouth.

  "I'm not upset with you, my lord. I just have no ideas on how to trap the dahaka. Or how to kill it."

  "May I have some tea?" Caldenia asked.

  "Of course." I went in the kitchen and took her favorite mug from the cabinet.

  "Would a high-power rifle do it?" Sean asked.

  "What sort of rifle?" Arland asked.

  "Stealth Recon Scout," Sean said.

  "Does it fire a metal projectile?"

  "Yes."

  "How fast?"

  "Fast enough to kill a man from two thousand yards away."

  "I don't believe so." Arland grimaced. "The dahaka is likely to have magnetic disrupters in addition to armor, helmet, and an extremely thick skull."

  I brought a cup of Lemon Zinger to Caldenia. She accepted it with a nod.

  "We could try an armor-piercing round," Sean said.

  "If I may." Caldenia stirred her tea. "You're asking the wrong questions."

  "And what would be the right question, Your Grace?" Arland asked.