Sweep with Me (Innkeeper Chronicles Book 5)

by Ilona Andrews

  Rudolph slapped a hand on the table and bared his teeth. “She didn’t want to. She was selfish her entire life.”

  Adira waited, her expression placid. Some of the rage went out of Rudolph’s eyes.

  “When you and my mother were sixteen, you went on a hike and somewhere on that mountain path you left Earth and entered Chatune. It opened to you, because it recognized the dormant power within you. You were meant for great things, but you squandered the gift Chatune offered, uncle. You schemed and plotted, trying to rise through the imperial ranks based not on scholarship, military art, or the cultivation of your inner power, but on trickery and deceit. You lied, misled, and betrayed.”

  “I was at a disadvantage. I had no family, no connections, no backing. We came to that world with nothing except the clothes on our backs and two backpacks. I was trying to build a secure future for me and for your mother.” Rudolph tapped the table with his finger. “I got the raw end of that deal. I only had crumbs of your mother’s magic. She got the lion’s share and I had to make do with the leftovers.”

  “My mother failed as well,” Adira said. “The Mountain reached out to her, trying to forge a connection. Mother understood what was required of her. The Mountain wanted a protector, and instead of answering that call, my mother rebuffed it. She flittered through the world like a butterfly without care. You wanted position and power, and she wanted attention and admiration…No, adoration is a better word. She played with people’s emotions like they were marbles, and when she recognized that there were consequences, she fled the world that had taken her in.”

  “Exactly!” Rudolph leaned forward. “I’m so glad you understand. She chose to leave. She chose to come back here. But I was expelled when she left. I can’t go back on my own. I require your mother to open the door for me.”

  “Why do you think that is?” Adira asked.

  “Why does it matter? I worked for ten years to build something. I was an advisor. I had power, I had wealth, and she, that stupid bitch, took it all away from me. I begged her to go back. Begged. I had to start all over and on her deathbed, riddled with cancer, she still refused. She claimed she tried and couldn’t enter. And then she disappeared, and I knew she lied. She went back to Chatune and took you instead of me.”

  “It matters because you still don’t understand.” Adira set her glass down. “My mother didn’t lie. She truly couldn’t return to Chatune, with you or without. Each of you on your own weren’t enough. The two of you were supposed to work together, but you failed, and Chatune didn’t want you or her anymore. My mother had to offer something to buy her passage. She offered me. For the sake of obtaining me, Chatune permitted her to tag along. My mother didn’t tell me what she was doing. She didn’t care about me or my life. She thought Chatune would cure her, but it let her rot, and I took care of her until she died, selfish to the end. Do you see, uncle? You hold no value to Chatune. It doesn’t want you.”

  Rudolph recoiled.

  “You talk about that damn planet like it has a soul.”

  Adira laughed. It sounded bitter.

  Rudolph’s face melted into an earnest expression. He probably had no idea how fake it looked. “You’re right. Your mother was selfish to the end. But you don’t have to be. The liege lord of the Green Mountain adopted you as his daughter. He shared his power with you. Take me back with you.”

  She smiled. “Why?”

  Rudolph leaned forward again. “You’re my niece. I’m the only family you have left. I was a powerful man before Chatune spat me out. Take me with you, and I’ll help you rise. I will take care of you.”

  “You are a powerful man here, uncle. You have everything you could possibly want. Stay here.”

  “Adira…”

  “No.”

  The final no landed like a brick between us. The silence stretched, oppressive.

  “None of it matters.” Rudolph bared his teeth again, his face almost a grimace. “You have magic, so you don’t know what it’s like to lose it. You could share that world with me, but you won’t. You’re just like your mother, an egotistical, self-centered bitch. It doesn’t matter. I’ve done my part. I will get to Chatune without you.”

  The far end of the grounds shimmered, as if hot air burst from the grass. Reality ceased to be, as if someone had sliced through our world with a knife, and beyond it a vast green valley spread. A warrior strode onto the grass. He was tall and clad in black armor embossed with gold. His face was inhumanly beautiful, his long white hair braided and pulled into a ponytail. He carried a sword that was five feet long and engraved with strange symbols.

  It was like a scene from a movie. Magnificent and shocking.

  The blast wave of the warrior’s magic tore across the lawn, snapping every blade of grass upright, and met my power. I swallowed it and dispersed it. So much magic…

  “Liege Yastreb of the Onyx Sect.” Adira set her glass down. “You sold me out, uncle. You sent that message to lure me from the Mountain, to here, where I would be vulnerable.”

  “You left me no choice,” he spat.

  Behind the warrior other armored soldiers materialized like shadows coming into focus. So many soldiers…

  “You’re wrong. There’s always a choice. You just didn’t like it.” Adira smiled. “When I received your message, I asked myself how a human could send a letter to Chatune. I asked myself what you could possibly want. The answer was obvious.”

  Rudolph blanched. “You knew.”

  “Of course. Yastreb approached you and promised you passage to Chatune for your betrayal. What’s about to happen isn’t about you. It’s about me making a statement to all those who think I require the Mountain to defend what is mine.” Adira rose. “Keep an eye on my uncle, innkeeper. Don’t let him come to any harm.”

  Sean’s voice sounded in my ear. “Ready.”

  I snapped the void field in place. The highest-level barrier available to an innkeeper, the void field stopped organic and inorganic projectiles and the transfer of energy. I had bubbled three acres; the warrior, his army, the inn, and the portal. The void field prevented any sound from passing through. Now it was just a matter of holding it.

  We had discussed our strategy beforehand. Sean and I would defend the inn together.

  Adira walked in front of the table.

  Yastreb glared at her from across the lawn. His voice was like thunder. “Submit.”

  Adira lifted her chin, her voice casual and light. “Not today.”

  She raised her hands, fingers open, as if preparing to catch a basketball, and drew them apart, removing an invisible scabbard. A sword appeared in her right hand, a slender double-edged blade, a full four feet long. Silver fangs protruded from its guard, and its pommel was shaped like a snarling female lion.

  Yastreb’s face jerked.

  “Not the sword you were expecting?” Adira asked. “I don’t need the Heart of the Mountain for you. The Lion Fang will do just fine.”

  The warrior’s black blade burst into blue fire. Magic tore out of him, sheathing him in a dense armor of power. His soldiers charged, streaming past him into two dark currents.

  Adira’s inner power erupted. Magic punched me, sweeping my defenses aside. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, and for a second I thought I died. Her cloak tore and fell, shredded. She wore green armor that clung to her like a second skin. Red hungry fire bathed her blade.

  Rudolph started to get up.

  “Move and die,” I told him, my voice flat.

  He sat back down.

  Adira moved.

  I had seen incredible swordsmen fight. During the peace summit, an arbitrator brought a genius swordswoman to my inn. Her name was Sophie and she killed with such beauty and precision that it transformed it into art. For her, the connection she felt with her opponent just before life became death meant everything.

  For Adira it meant nothing. This wasn’t art; it was raw elemental force.

  The soldiers rushed her, each a single storm
of magic. She moved her sword, and they died, torn apart by her magic, like paper tigers burnt to ash. Magic hammered the void field, splashing against it. I grit my teeth. The entire barrage of the Draziri at their strongest didn’t have a third of this impact.

  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, si
lver 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?”

  He nodded, looked at Caldenia and Qoros, and gave them a hard stare. Her Grace wriggled her fingers at him. Qoros put his hand on his chest, pretending to be shocked.

  I stepped out into the hallway. A large figure emerged from the soft gloom, a Quillonian, so old, his quills had turned pure white.

  I bowed. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Grand Chef.”