She strained against him. The muscles on Sean’s arms stood out.
“That girl over there,” Sean said quietly. “That’s my girl. If she’s forced to bury you in the floor to hold you still, it will be awkward.”
His mother bared her teeth and suddenly stopped. “Wait, what?”
“I think we should all calm down,” I said. “Would anyone like some tea?”
“Yes,” Arland said, finally breaking his silence. “Tea would be a very good idea.”
It took about half an hour for the werewolves to shower, stop snarling, and settle in the dining room. Arland, my sister, and the rest of the guests wisely decided to give them some privacy. Apparently, Sean’s parents didn’t react well to Arland. Sean had told them a few things that happened when Arland and he first came to the inn, and when Maud failed to produce Sean, his father had suggested that maybe Arland should run out into the orchard to find him and have a cup of coffee first if it would help. Arland discreetly informed me that in the interests of avoiding a bloody incident, he would give them some breathing space. Even Caldenia stayed away, which was for the best, because I didn’t want to explain Her Grace and her comments about the deliciousness of werewolves to Sean’s parents.
I made myself scarce, too, and went to finish Christmas decorating. They had a lot to talk about, and it was better if I wasn’t involved.
Seramina’s prophecy sat in my brain like a cold rock. I just couldn’t shake it. Was it about my parents? Was it about the inn? Was it… It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it would be coming for me soon.
An hour later I was finished with the tree and the ballroom. The inn was now a Christmas wonderland. Too bad we wouldn’t get any snow. Sadly, I couldn’t control the weather.
The decorating didn’t make me feel any better.
My cell phone rang. I answered it.
“Dina,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “Good afternoon.”
“Hi. Has there been any word from the Assembly?”
“Have you heard anything?”
“No. I thought maybe you did.”
“It’s your inn,” he said gently. “When the Assembly decides on the course of action, you will know.”
My heart sank.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m tired,” I said. “I’ve been holding the void field and it’s getting harder.”
“How long?” Concern vibrated in his voice.
“Several days.”
“Dina, it’s meant to be a short-term solution. It’s not wise to hold it for longer than forty-eight hours. You know this. You can’t keep this up.”
“It’s fine,” I told him. “I just don’t sleep that well, that’s all.”
“Tony will drive over and stay with you.”
“Mr. Rodriguez, it’s okay, I really am okay. My sister is here helping me.”
“It’s my understanding that your sister hasn’t been an active innkeeper for a very long time. Tony is strong and able. It is our duty as fellow innkeepers to help in cases like this. He will help you. Besides, your chef told my chef that you are having a Christmas feast. Tony will be overjoyed. That child loves food more than fish love water. It will be all right, Dina. It will be fine.”
Fatigue crept in, sapping all my strength. I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He hung up.
I didn’t need Tony. What I needed was the end to this Draziri mess. Then I would rest and sleep. For now, I would have to settle for getting out of my own head. I went back to the war room, crawled into my chair, and opened the Draziri file.
The image of the Draziri god splayed on the large screen. A beautiful creature, with an elegant neck and a small round head, it reminded me of a swan, but instead of feathers, it had membranous wings, delicate and breathtaking. Translucent, they swirled around it like the fins of a Chinese fighting fish. Like the Draziri, it had no beak, just a small mouth. A pastel blue spread down its face, with two eyes glowing like sapphires. The color rolled down its neck, darkening gradually, turning turquoise, then deep indigo, before flaring into a shocking white and then carmine on the wings.
The Draziri had no wings. Maybe they lost them during their evolution. Maybe they never had them. But the colors on the wings of their god would put a nebula to shame. It was the same reason ancient Greeks carved the pinnacle of human perfection into marble whenever they wanted to portray a god. It was an ideal and an idea, the concept of soaring through clouds on wings the color of star fire, free of gravity. Free of the world.
I’d read that file forward and backward. There was nothing I could find that told me why the Draziri had declared their holy crusade against the Hiru. The Hiru’s world had a unique signature, an exceedingly rare combination of elements in the atmosphere and soil, which ensured their survival. There was nothing quite like it, which explained why despite being an advanced race, they never spread through the galaxy. They didn’t present any threat. They were homeworld-bound. So why kill them? What could they possibly have done to warrant extermination?
Perhaps, it was just the principle of the thing. The Draziri lived in a theocracy, led by a God-King. Their priesthood acted as their lawmakers. Maybe when they had ventured into space, the priests became worried that their society wouldn’t survive the collision with other civilizations and they would be overthrown. On Earth, when Pope Urban II wanted to consolidate his power, he started the first Crusade. Maybe the Draziri priests decided that a holy crusade would be a great way to stay in power. They looked around, saw their closest neighbors, and said, “These beings are ugly and they smell awful. They would make a handy enemy. Let’s kill them in the name of our exquisite god.”