Sweep in Peace (Innkeeper Chronicles 2)

“We are in a residential neighborhood,” I ground out. “There is a limit to how long I can hide this. I’m going to take care of it.”

George shot me a warning glance. “Please. It’s my mess. Let me clean it up.”

Sophie bend down, picked up the hem of her gown and ripped the fabric to mid-thigh.

The Sentinel sighted her. Its metal frames slid against each other. Spikes sprung up, shielding the panels. The blue glow pulsed and the Sentinel shot toward Sophie, an enormous, furious multi-ton tornado of razor sharp metal.

Sophie leaned forward slightly on her toes.

She was going to get run over. The Sentinel would splatter her on my apple trees. I squeezed my broom.

George was watching Sophie with an odd look on his face.

The Sentinel barreled at her. A chain shot out with a foot-wide black blade on the end.

Sophie moved.

It happened so fast, I didn’t actually see it. One moment she was standing still and the next the chain and the blade hurtled to the side, severed, and crashed into the brush, while Sophie was running at the Sentinel. Her sword sparked with pure white, as if someone had taken a hair-thin lightning bolt and bound it to the metal edge.

The Sentinel whirled, swinging to the side, its colossal frames rotating as the machine feverishly tried to process new data. Chains, spikes, and spears shot at Sophie. She dodged them, barely moving out of the way, graceful, beautiful, and struck again. Her sword moved so fast, it was a blur, a ghost of a movement, barely perceptible, like a puff of hot air shooting up from hot pavement. The Sentinel’s weapons fell apart, as if they were made of brittle glass.

The Sentinel’s blue light pulsed. The colossal machine charged Sophie. It was a no holds barred, direct assault. It meant to crush her.

She smiled. The melancholy in her eyes vanished. They shone with pure, unbridled joy. These eyes, they belonged to someone else, someone merciless and cruel and predatory. Someone who lived for a chance to take another being’s life and revel in doing it.

The Sentinel rolled straight at her.

She struck. Her sword flashed with white, so bright it was blinding.

The machine kept rolling. Sophie had vanished. Oh no, it must’ve rolled over her…

The Sentinel fell apart. The armored frames slid apart from each other, carved into pieces, the edges of the cuts perfectly smooth. The blue sphere turned dull and drained down in a heap of loose blue powder, revealing Sophie. She grinned at the remnants of the machine, and the expression on her face sent cold shivers down my spine. Sophie had enjoyed it. She had enjoyed every moment of it.

George, who did you bring into my inn…

Sophie sheathed her sword.

“As I said, we will make all necessary reparations…” George started.

“This is enough diplomacy for today,” the Khanum said, her voice snapping like a whip. She turned and marched out of the ballroom, her otrokari at her heels.

I watched the vampires file out of the grand ballroom. The merchants followed.

Someone tugged on my robe. I turned. Cookie stood next to me, his big blue eyes filled with sadness. The corners of his fox ears drooped. He looked so pitiful, I almost reached out to pet his fluffy head.

“Mistress Innkeeper?” Even his voice was tiny.

“Yes?” He was so fluffy.

“You didn’t find the emerald, did you?”

“Not yet.”

His ears drooped more. He was killing me with cuteness. “Oh.”

“Is Nuan Cee giving you trouble?” I asked.

“It is a very expensive emerald. I am responsible to my family.”

Since the otrokari took their ball, no doubt made of skulls and wrapped in the skin of their enemies, and stomped off in a huff to their quarters, the peace summit effectively ground to a halt. That meant my afternoon was free.

“I tell you what, I’ll look for it today.”

Cookie’s eyes brightened. “Thank you!”

He scampered off, caught up with the merchant procession, and followed them out.

Nuan Cee lingered in the ballroom and approached me. “What did Nuan Couki want?”

I raised my eyebrows. “That is between me and Cookie.”

“Hmpph.” Nuan Cee peered at the retreating form of his thrice removed cousin’s seventh son.

“Rough day?” I asked.

“I do not hold much hope for these negotiations,” he said.

“It’s only day two.”

Nuan Cee glanced at me. “Trade is the oldest and most noble profession in the Galaxy and making deals is its currency. It is a rite as ancient as the cosmos and the very foundation of mathematics. Something is always equal to something else and an exchange can be made. You desire something and so you surrender something to obtain the desired result. Life is trade; we trade our labor for its fruit, we trade hours of study for knowledge, we trade pleasure for pleasure or sometimes for wealth, security, or offspring. I have made thousands of deals. I cannot deal with these people. I have nothing they want. I offer them peace, but they don’t want it. They only want war.”

He shook his head.

“Give them a chance,” I said.

“I will. But I will take steps.”

He sounded ominous.

“Also, we have some requests. I shall send my people to you with them.”

Oh goodie. “I look forward to it.”

I sealed everyone’s doors and went into the orchard. Beast ran ahead of me and sniffed at the mangled trees.

The remnants of the Sentinel were still scattered on the ground. Four of my twenty trees lay broken. I clenched my teeth. The trees were an extension of the inn, as much as everything on the inn’s grounds was a part of Gertrude Hunt. Seeing them broken like this physically hurt. I wanted to hug them and put them back together.