One Fell Sweep

CHAPTER 13

We stood on a barren plateau of dark rock. Gray boulders jutted out here and there, shot through with blue veins. Above, a night sky spread, glowing with mother-of-pearl haze, as if someone had wrapped the upper layer of the atmosphere in a pearlescent veil. Beyond the haze, the night sky spread, the kind of sky that you would never forget, alive with the light of distant stars, where nebulae rioted and clashed.

I had been here five times. I never saw the light change. It was always like this: a diaphanous haze and the universe beyond, unreachable and cold. Too big. Too vast. If you looked at it too long, it filled you with despair.

In front of us a wall rose, hundreds of feet tall and sheer, made of the same rock as the plateau. A gate punctured it. It was wide open and from where we stood, we could see that it was a hundred feet deep. I once looked at a piece of chalk under a microscope during my brief time at college. I don’t know what I had expected, but I saw globules made from circles of delicate lace, except instead of thread, the lace was crafted with calcite shells shed by millions of microorganisms. The gates looked like that. Layers and layers of elaborate pale khaki lattice in dizzying patterns, some places resembling spider web, others a beehive; yet others forming delicate mandalas. Holes punctured the gates here and there, only to reveal more patterns.

“I don’t like this,” werewolf Sean said.

“It’s a place of serenity, but not happiness. You have to turn into the wolf form now. The prophets will let you in if you look like an animal. They view animals as part of nature.”

“The gates look like jaws. With teeth.”

“That’s because they are. If you try to enter as you are, they will close on you midway through.”

He studied me for a moment. “We can go back.”

“No, we can’t. The Archivarian is in there.”

“Tell me about this Holy Seramina.”

“I met her when Klaus and I were looking for my parents. Something about my power appeals to those of Eno. They feel a kinship with me and they let me enter. I talked to three of them, and Seramina was one of those three. She’s a Kelah. Her people live in large cities they call nests. Each nest is led by the royal pair and a council of advisers. Each nest also has a holy one, a spiritual leader, to whom all look for guidance. The holy ones see into the future, but they foresee only disasters, so they can save their people from misfortune. Seramina foresaw a colossal creature that would devour the nest, but she wasn’t believed. The threat was too strange. Nobody had ever encountered a creature like that. And Seramina was mating at the time, and mating interferes with the holy one’s ability to see into the future. The creature arrived and devoured the nest, eating everyone within except her. She watched them all die. Now she’s here, among others in the Sanctuary.”

“That’s a lovely story,” Sean said. “We should go back.”

“You can wait here, but I have to go in.”

He shook his head. His body blurred and a massive wolflike creature trotted over to me. I put my hand on his furry back—he was so large, I didn’t have to bend down—and took the first step through the gate. It remained open.

We walked in silence, the wolf and I. Something watched us. I couldn’t see it, but I felt the weight of its gaze. I didn’t want to be here.

The gate ended. A garden spread before us, filled with wide trees, their bark black and smooth. Each tree grew apart from its fellows, its blue glowing leaves shimmering within a dense canopy. Bulbous orange fruit hung from the branches, glowing like paper lanterns. Long silky grass, a dull, gunmetal gray, filled the spaces between the trees, spreading into the distance. No birds sang. Nothing disturbed the silence except for an occasional breeze that rustled the branches. I fought an urge to hug myself. When Homer wrote about the bleak plains of Elysium where the ancient Greek heroes lived after death, he must’ve had this place in mind.

Sean bared his teeth.

“I know,” I told him.

A swirl of tiny white lights drifted from the trees, lining up to light a path in the grass. We were being summoned. I followed it, Sean moving next to me on silent wolf paws. We walked deeper into the woods, but the trees didn’t become denser. It remained the same: a tree, some fruit, and the grass, then another tree…

We came to a clearing. A stone wall blocked the way, leaning to the side slightly, its surface slicked with moss. The lights flared and vanished.

A creature stepped from the shadows behind the wall. She was eight feet tall and slender, with leathery skin the color of butter. She stood upright on two long legs. Her four arms, delicate and narrow, put you in mind of a praying mantis or a damselfly, but her eyes belonged to an owl: large disks of blood-red with round black pupils. A gossamer tunic obscured her body, made with diaphanous layers of pale glittering fabric.

“Dinaaa.” Her voice lingered in the air, refusing to fade.

“Holy Seramina,” I said. “You called and I came.”

“You brought your wolf.” Seramina said. The echoes of her voice hung above the grass.

“Yes.”

“It’s good,” she said.

She knelt by Sean and looked into his eyes. “He doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t like this place.”

Seramina rose. “It is calm here. It is quiet. We have serenity. Peace. You will need peace soon, Dina.”

“I ask for your wisdom,” I said the ritual words. “I ask for your guidance. Oh holy one, tell me what danger lies in my future.”

“You will be offered that which you cannot refuse,” she whispered. “It will kill everything that is alive inside you.”

Fear squirmed through me. “Is there any way to avoid it?”

“No. It will come to pass. You cannot stop it, because you cannot deny the nature of who you are.” She knelt by Sean again, studying him. “When her soul dies, bring her here. She will never live again, but she can exist here, with us. She can be one of us, one of the broken. She will find peace here. That is my prophecy.”

She stood up and walked away into the trees.

I turned and followed the lights out. The Archivarian sat cross-legged just inside the gates. Beyond them a portal opened. Not a gate defined by a technological arc, not a tunnel, but a ragged hole punched straight through reality.

At our approach, the Archivarian rose and followed us without a word.

We walked through the tear. The universe died. There was empty blackness and then the back room of Wilmos’ shop burst into existence around us. The air smelled of energy discharge and gunpowder. The sounds of many weapons firing at the same time pounded on my ears.

The wolf tore and Sean spilled out, wearing nothing except his subcutaneous armor.

He grabbed me and pulled me to him, his eyes wild. “I’m never taking you back there.”

His lips closed on mine. The kiss seared me and for a moment I tasted Sean and the forest inside him.

The human Sean broke free. His body blurred. The massive lupine monster brandished a green knife and burst through the door of the back room into the gunfight.

I pressed myself behind the wall and peered out through the doorway. The front wall of Wilmos’ shop was gone. A ragged gap, its edges smoking and sputtering, had torn through the storefront. The werewolves had taken cover behind the counters, firing short bursts at the street, where the Draziri, hidden behind a couple of overturned merchant stalls, returned fire.

Sean flashed through the room, a dark blur that cleared the gap and burst into the street.

Sean!

“Idiot!” the older female werewolf yelled.

The werewolves line erupted with shots, as they tried to provide cover fire.

Wilmos smiled.

Somehow Sean cleared the fifty yards separating him from the overturned stalls. He leapt over the left one. Shots rang out.

“Hold your fire,” the grizzled dark-skinned werewolf barked.

Across the street someone screamed, a desperate terrified shriek, cut off in mid-note.

A clump of fighters in pale Draziri cloaks burst from between the two stalls, bouncing up and down the street like an out of control spin top.

“I hope you got a DNA sample before they cut him to pieces,” a blond male werewolf said.

“Watch,” Wilmos said.

The clump spun, the spaces between bodies opening for a moment, and within its depth Sean moved, lightning quick. He struck, his movements short, precise, yet fluid, cutting, stabbing, severing, fast, so fast. Each vicious swipe of his knife drew blood. He was cutting the Draziri like they were mannequins standing still. Dark stains splayed over his body, turning his fur nearly black, sliding left to shield the stomach, then up to his neck to ward off a strike. It must’ve been his subcutaneous armor.

“Will you look at that…” someone murmured.

The Draziri tried to cut him down, but he moved among them, slicing them out of existence and moving on before they had a chance to fall. A dancer on the edge of a blade.

There was a desperate need about the way he moved, as if he was trying to rend the fabric of reality to pieces. He loved me, I realized. He loved me so much, and the wounds of Nexus had barely scabbed over. The prophecy had pushed him over the edge. He had to vent or it would tear him apart from the inside out.

The werewolves stood up. They were watching him with those odd longing expressions on their faces. Something was taking place among them, something I didn’t quite understand.

Wilmos pulled a translucent datapad off the wall. His fingers danced across it.

A loud, insistent beat tore from some hidden speakers, the melody wild and frightening. A male and female chorus joined the music, singing wordlessly, their voices blending into a single powerful howl. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

Wilmos’ mercenaries bared their teeth. The dark-skinned werewolf raised his head and howled. To my left, the older female mercenary howled too. All around me eyes turned amber, gold, and green.

The terraced walls on both sides of the fight rained Draziri. The reinforcements had arrived.

The werewolves blurred, shifting into their wetwork shape, and charged. I caught a glimpse of Wilmos, his eyes on fire, his fangs bared, his face human one moment and grizzled monster the next. His wolflike pet snarled and ran into the melee next to him.

They fell onto the Draziri, while the battle hymn of a dead planet howled in triumph.

Eventually there were no Draziri left to kill. The injured survivors fled. Nobody chased them. It had felt like an eternity, but my phone told me only five minutes had passed since Sean and I entered the store again.

Sean walked over to me, hulking and soaked in blood. I put my arms around his wet furry shoulders and hugged him. He sighed quietly.

“Let’s go home,” I said.

“I will come too,” Wilmos said.

“We’ll hold the shop,” the female mercenary said.

The four of us, Sean, Wilmos, the Archivarian, and I weaved through the streets of Baha-char. Nobody assaulted us. We reached the door to the inn, I opened it, and we slipped inside.

A stasis tank rose from the floor, swallowing the Archivarian and carrying him to join the rest of its parts and I stood alone in the hallway with two werewolves in wetwork shape, Wimos with a graying muzzle and Sean, a full head taller. A few months ago, I’d have been mildly alarmed. Now it was just business as usual. I sighed and snapped the void field in place. When I first started, it was like slipping on a jacket. Now it felt like a car settled on my chest. Maintaining it was draining me so much, I felt the weariness all the way in my bones.

It would end eventually and then I would rest.

I started moving. I needed to get them both into showers.

“Dina!” A screen popped open in the wall and slid, matching my pace. Maud’s eyes were the size of saucers. “We have a problem.”

Damn it, can I just catch a tiny break? Just one? Please for the love of all that is holy in this infinite universe. “What problem?”

“A big one,” my sister hissed. “Get over here.”

There were strangers in my inn. In my front room. Coming through my door.

I sped up. The werewolves followed me. We burst into the front room.

Two people stood in my front room, a man and a woman, both middle-aged. There was something vaguely familiar about their faces. My sister waited on the left with a carefully neutral expression on her face. Arland stood next to her, clearly torn between pulling his weapon out and trying to remain polite.

The man and the woman looked at me, and then at the two werewolves behind me.

The man squinted. “Wilmos?”

The woman peered at Wilmos, then her gaze slid to the left. Her voice was a whisper. “Sean?”

The hulking monster unhinged his jaws. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

Oh crap.

Sean’s mother was slightly plump, short, and blond. If I bumped into her during a grocery run, I would’ve smiled, said excuse me, and never thought of it twice. She was looking at Wilmos now, and there was a wolf in her eyes, a frightening, mad she-wolf. When she opened her mouth, her voice froze the air in the room.

“Wilmos, how do you know our son and why does he smell like blood?”

“Uh…” Wilmos said.

Sean’s father dropped his bags. He looked a lot like Sean, athletic, broad-shouldered, his brown hair cut short. His gaze pinned Wilmos like a dagger.

“Four months ago Agran called me and said that there was a war on Nexus and that you’ve been supplying the Merchants with a general every time one of theirs took a dive. He said that the last one they got was off the charts and rumor was that the guy was an alpha-strain werewolf. I dismissed it, because every time some phantom fighter shows up, our people take credit.”

Wilmos took a careful step back.

“Did you send my son to Nexus?” Sean’s father growled. Black ink crept up his neck.

Oh no. No, I didn’t want to do this. This wouldn’t make a good impression.

Wilmos opened his mouth.

“Corwin,” Sean’s mother said softly. “Sean’s wearing Auroon Twelve.”

“Wilmos?” Sean’s father snarled.

The old werewolf sighed. “Yes.”

“How dare you!” Rage shivered in Sean’s mother’s face. “We survived. We escaped. We built a life, so our child would never have to fight the way we did. And you, you obsessive asshole, you worm, you … you sent him to Nexus!”

Sean’s father blurred. A massive dark werewolf spilled out and leapt at Wilmos. I let his feet leave the ground and then the inn snatched him out of the air in mid-leap. Strong. Really strong.

A second werewolf lunged across the floor. Sean stepped forward smoothly and caught her. She snarled.

“Mom,” Sean said gently. “You’re not making a good first impression.”

“Sean William, let go of me this instant!”

“I can’t do that.”

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.”

“Beautiful,” Sean’s mother said behind me.

“The Draziri are beautiful people. It makes sense that they would have a beautiful god.” It’s too bad that their religion was so ugly.

“Thank you for saving my son,” she said.

“No thanks are needed. I love him.” That was the first time I had said it out loud. Saying it to her was easier than saying it to Sean.

“He loves you too.”

“I know.”

“My name is Gabriele.”

I got up. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She stepped forward and hugged me. I hugged her back.

“I’m sorry about restraining your husband.”

“You’re an innkeeper,” she said. “He doesn’t hold a grudge. We’re both sorry. He hadn’t told us. About Nexus, or Wilmos, or any of that. He usually comes home for Christmas. I called him, and he sounded so distant. I felt that I was losing my child.”

“It’s my fault,” I told her. “Nexus and Wilmos. I took him to Baha-char. I knew the moment he walked into Wilmos’ shop, I’d lose him at least for a while. The universe is so big and loud.”

She shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s in his blood. He wanted to test himself. My son has the blood of Auul in his veins. He was always restless. Earth just wasn’t enough. I used to worry that I would lose him to some dumb war thousands of miles away. I had no idea I almost lost him to Nexus. I would tear Wilmos’ head off, if Sean would let me. It was the perfect trap for him. He wouldn’t have broken free if it wasn’t for you.”

“He would have eventually.”

She shook her head again.

Lord Soren walked to the doorway and cleared his throat.

“Please excuse me.”

She nodded.

I got up and walked over to Lord Soren.

“May I speak with you privately?” he asked.

What now? “Of course.” I led him across the hallway, built a simple room, and opened a door in the wall to it. “Please.”

We walked inside and I sealed the door behind us.

“How can I help you, Lord Soren?”

“I understand that your father was considered a hero by other innkeepers.”

What? “Yes.”

“Why?”

“My father was a guest in one of the inns, when the innkeeper and her children were attacked. He defended her. That’s very unusual for a guest.”

“Did he succeed?”

“In part. He bought them enough time to get out. The children survived, but the innkeeper died of her injuries. My father became trapped within the inn until my mother freed him centuries later.”

Lord Soren nodded gravely. Clearly, this was terribly important.

“Do you know of your family on your father’s side?”

“No.”

“What about on your mother’s?”

“Some. We don’t keep the same meticulous records your people do.” I waved my hand. A small screen opened in the wall and the picture of my grandparents appeared. They were sitting together, my grandfather in his Navy uniform and my grandmother in a lovely blue dress. When I left for college, I’d taken a lot of photographs with me. They were all I had left now. “This is my grandfather and grandmother. He was a fireman. My grandmother was a school teacher.”

Lord Soren squinted. “Is that a uniform?”

“My grandfather served in the Navy during the Vietnam war.”

“Are those ribbons indicative of meritorious service?”

“Yes.”

“So your family understands martial traditions.”

“Of course. My grandfather served in the Navy. His father was in the Marines during World War II.”

“And your ancestors are long-lived?”

This was just getting weirder and weirder. “For humans, yes.”

“Any genetic abnormalities?”

“Not that I know of. Lord Soren, what is this about?”

“Due diligence.” Lord Soren nodded, deadly serious.

Something brushed against the void field. I turned. “Excuse me. Window, front.”

A lone slender figure stood at the end of the driveway, holding a small white flag in one hand. She was wearing a backpack backwards, so it hung on her stomach. Thick, dark red belts secured it to her, wrapping tight around her slender waist and hips. On the backpack in large letters someone had written in black marker Feel Me. The letters were crooked and unsure, drawn rather than written.

I lowered the void field for a moment.

Something waited for me in that backpack, something warm and alive, but fragile, something that I had to nurture and take care of. It glowed like a star and it was scared. The wave of fear rolled over me. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I wanted to hug it to me and keep it safe. I would do anything to keep it safe.

It couldn’t possibly be… No. My pulse shot up. Blood pounded through my head. No.

The inn creaked around me, stretching, reaching for the backpack, and the entirety of Gertrude Hunt focused on it. I’d never felt it want something so badly.

I slammed the void field back in place, ran to the door, burst into the hallway, and almost collided with Maud.

My sister grabbed my shoulders. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“I have to go out there!”

“Why?”

I could barely speak the words. “The Draziri have an inn seed.”