Sweep with Me (Innkeeper Chronicles 4.5)

A soldier skirted Adira and ran at me. Sean’s kel-rifle fired with a twang and he collapsed.

More and more soldiers came, rushing around Adira, trying to swarm her. She killed them without noticing, oblivious to their attacks, intent only on walking toward their commander. There were so many of them, they got into each other’s way like ants climbing over each other to bite a grasshopper. Those on the periphery of the swarm turned to me. They couldn’t get to Adira, but they recognized I was her ally, and they rushed me, weapons and magic ready. Sean’s guns boomed, once, twice, and pounded into a steady beat as he pulverized them into nothing.

Yastreb ran forward, accelerating, the dark mantle of his magic flowing around him.

I planted my broom into the dirt. It split, glowing with pale blue, a conduit to Gertrude Hunt, fusing us into one.

Adira cut down the last of the soldiers directly between her and Yastreb and sprinted.

The two Drífen collided.

BOOM.

A shock wave of magic rippled through the inn’s grounds. Soldiers flew, rag dolls tossed in the air.

The magic seared me. I tasted blood in my mouth.

The void field held.

Adira slid across the lawn, driven back by the pressure of the Onyx warrior’s sword. She leaned out of the way by some miracle, spun with impossible grace, and slashed at Yastreb. He parried.

BOOM. Another blast of magic. Heat and pressure crushed me. I clenched my teeth and held.

Roots slithered underground, surfaced, and wrapped around my legs. Branches burst from the wall, stretching to me, winding around my shoulders. I sat ensconced in Gertrude Hunt, and through the inn, I felt Sean on the other end.

We connected.

The lawn turned into a slaughterhouse. Sean rained death onto the battlefield, his weapons chewing through the mass of soldiers trying to lessen the impact of their magic on the void field. Adira and the warrior clashed like two gods not caring what they destroyed. And I contained it all, holding this hell on Earth between my hands.

Yastreb was slowing down. He bled from two places, where her sword had caught him, but Adira showed no signs of fatigue. She cut at him, tireless, each strike amplified by her magic.

The flood of soldiers ended. I almost didn’t notice. My eyes were bleeding and it felt like I had gone deaf, but somehow, I could still hear.

Adira kicked at Yastreb. He was a fraction of a second too slow to dodge. Her foot connected with his chest. He stumbled back, out of breath. She chased him, reached out, and gripped the warrior by his throat. His magic bit at her, but she didn’t care. She jerked him up and neatly slid him onto her sword.

Yastreb screamed. Magic boomed, the sound of a god dying. Adira freed her sword with a sharp tug and kicked the bleeding warrior in the chest. He flew across the lawn back into the portal. She waved her hand and the gap between two worlds snapped shut.

I let the void field drain down. Everything hurt, but the sudden loss of pressure felt like heaven.

It was so quiet.

Around us bodies began to sink into the soil, as the inn claimed the dead.

Next to me Rudolph Peterson stared at Adira, his face a mask of disbelief.

She walked to us, her sword, no longer on fire, resting on her shoulder.

“Today the Mountain stood firm,” she said, speaking to nobody in particular. “Those who covet what is ours take note. Think carefully before you trespass for the Mountain will not spare you.”

She turned to Rudolph. He was looking at her like she was the Grim Reaper.

“Do you understand now, uncle? The lord of the Green Mountain didn’t share his power with me. This power is my own. This is what you and my mother were meant to be.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Adira turned to me. “Well done, innkeeper. The Green Mountain owes you a debt. I had asked you about mercy. I remember your answer. My uncle is my only family by blood. He is all that ties me to this world. Before I left the Mountain, I made a vow to the ancestors of my dryht. I promised that I would either forgive him and walk away with a clean soul or that I would kill him in a way he deserves and I would make it so violent and brutal that his death would be an enduring example to our enemies.”

Rudolph just stared, shell-shocked.

“This man in front of you has seen what you can do,” Adira continued. “If I spare him, he will never leave you alone. He will pursue you with all of the resources available to him, because he hungers for the power you and I possess. He is a wealthy man. Someone will come looking for him. If I kill him in a way I vowed, you won’t be able to explain his death. If I take him with me and kill him on the Mountain, you won’t be able to explain his disappearance. I’ve asked too much of you already. I will break my vow today. It is a weight I will have to bear. You are a good person and I will show you mercy. Please accept my sacrifice.”

The sword in Adira’s hand turned transparent, a ghost of itself. Gracefully, elegantly, she swung and plunged it into her uncle’s chest. Rudolph Peterson froze, his mouth a gaping O. Adira freed her blade and he fell softly onto the grass.

“I stopped his heart,” she told me. “He died a natural death and left behind an intact corpse.”

“So much more than he deserved,” the white woman said from the porch. I had forgotten Adira’s guards were even there.

Zedas bowed, intoning the words. “Thank you, Liege of Green Mountain, for this lesson in compassion.”

The four other retainers bowed.

Adira waved her fingers, melting the sword into nothing, picked up the pitcher of iced tea and drained it.

Epilogue

After the battle, Sean had come to get me. I’d had trouble walking and he supported me until we got into the house and then he carried me upstairs. He helped me undress and lowered me into a bathtub of hot soapy water. I asked him to make sure everyone was back in their rooms and supervise the cleanup. He growled about leaving me by myself, but in the end he went.

I washed the blood off my face and sat in the soap bubbles until my head stopped humming and my teeth no longer rattled in my jaw. At some point, I crawled out, tried to dry myself off, and fell asleep on the bed wrapped in a wet towel. The last thing I remembered was putting the body of Rudolph Peterson into stasis to prevent decay. Tonight, after everyone celebrated, I would call 911 and put on a show.

I woke up an hour later. Sean was on the bed with me, resting his head on his bent arm.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.”

“Any news?”

His wolf eyes shone at me. “The Assembly sent over a message through Tony. Apparently, they watched the show and decided they didn’t need to see us anymore. Overall, it seems our performance was ‘satisfactory.’”

I rolled my eyes. “Satisfactory, my ass.”

Sean grinned at me. “That’s my line.”

“I’d like to see any of them contain two Drífen lieges fighting.” I rolled over and snuggled to him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Sore. And my head hurts. It was so much power. Did I scare you?”

“A little. The inn didn’t freak out, so I knew you weren’t too hurt. You were awesome.”

“We were awesome. It’s we now.” I glanced at him. “It’s not too let to back out of being an innkeeper, you know. You could still go off and be a werewolf of adventure.”

“Nah. I’m good.” He kissed me.

The anxious cloud that had hung over me since the Assembly had issued their summons vanished. They could send all the summons they wanted. I didn’t care. This was my inn and Sean loved me.

Half an hour later, we came down for the Treaty Stay banquet, and I wore my Treaty Stay robe, silver with a pink trim. I had a silver robe for Sean too, but all of the magic in the world couldn’t force him into it. He wore jeans and a black sweater and threatened to switch to pajamas if I made a fuss. He didn’t own any pajamas as far as I knew, and I made a note to buy him some.

The foxglove tree bloomed. It was a riot of color, lavender, white, and pink, every branch dripping with huge blossoms, as if Gertrude Hunt had poured its magic into the tree to celebrate. Tables had been set in the Grand Ballroom, brimming with food. Orro had cooked so much, I was afraid the furniture might break under the weight off all those dishes.

The Grand Ballroom buzzed with many voices. The Drífen took the far table, where they sat relaxed, making jokes. The danger had clearly passed. The Medamoth had joined Caldenia at our table, and the koo-ko occupied the two remaining long tables, adjusted for their size. Qoros clearly had trouble with their darting and I heard Caldenia offer him a tranquilizer, although I wasn’t sure whether it was to calm his nerves or to drug a koo-ko. I could totally picture her Grace whispering into his big ear, “There are so many. Surely nobody would miss just one. Or two.” I kept counting the koo-ko just in case.

The philosophers presented me with a five-thousand-word opinion on the question I had posed, the summary of which amounted to “It doesn’t matter who was the first founder, it is the debate itself that has value, for through the debate the truth will be distilled.” I decided to take it, because arguing with them would only give them an excuse to debate some more, and then nobody would get to have dinner.

Magic chimed. Ah, finally. I opened the Baha-char door and tracked the visitor as he made his way down the hall. I leaned to Sean. “Could you keep an eye on them for a minute?”