One Fell Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles #3)(89)

SEBASTIEN NORTH.

Who was Sebastien North? What did that mean?

The Archivarius pivoted back to the two Hiru. It was enormous and the Hiru seemed so small next to it, two ants talking to a colossus.

Around the perimeter of the backyard, ovoid portals opened, and behind each the other Hiru stood, waiting, dozens of them. We were looking at the entire species.

“Please,” Moonlight said. “Where is our new home?”

A cold rush of magic tore through me in a second. A vast portal opened behind the Archivarius, as tall as he was. Beyond the portal a beautiful landscape spread under a breathtaking sky. Glowing flowers, indigo and turquoise, bloomed in the shadow of majestic burgundy trees, their long weeping willow branches shimmering with pale green leaves. Strange blossoms grew in the meadow of silver-green grass that rolled gently to a sea, the water so transparent that every vibrant burst of color underneath was crystal clear. Long emerald-green seaweed rose among the cream-colored coral in the shallows studded with underwater plants. Bright fish darted beneath the waves, and above it all, a glorious sky reigned, awash with gentle pinks, blues, and greens.

Sunset took a step forward, walking to the portal as if he were asleep. Five feet away from it he stopped. Metal clanged. His body fell apart. Pieces of machinery tumbled down, gears fell into the grass, lubricant gushed, and a luminous creature flew up from the remnants of machinery and hovered above the grass. It took my breath away.

The Draziri screamed as their god spread the delicate veils of its wings, burning with all the colors of an aurora borealis. A tiny glowing strand stretched from its graceful neck. On it Helen’s Chrismas ornament dangled.

Sunset spun once and slipped through the portal, hovering just beyond its boundary, waiting.

All around us, the Hiru stepped through the portals and entered the clearing, forming a long slow line. Moonlight, the first in line, walked up to the pile of Sunset’s space suit. Her metal shell fell apart and she surged up, her wings silver, black, and white, glowing like the moonlight that inspired her name. She slipped into the portal.

They came one by one, shedding their space suits, luminescent and heartbreaking in their beauty. I realized I was crying. Somehow Sean made it next to me and he held my hand. Arland put Helen on his shoulders. She watched the Hiru assume their true form and there were stars reflected in her eyes.

Some Draziri had collapsed. Others stared, shocked, their expressions lost. Mrak wept. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

On and on the Hiru went, until the last of them paused by the portal. He was old. Burns and scars dented his space suit. He turned to me. A once-mournful voice issued forth, tuning triumphant. “Thank you, innkeeper. We will never forget.”

His space suit joined the pile on the grass and a creature the color of sun fire slipped through the portal to its new world.

“Wait…” Mrak whispered to the Hiru.

The portal collapsed.

The Archivarius rose. Its wings beat once. It flew into the night sky and vanished.

Mrak’s shoulders shook. He stared at the spot where the portal had been a moment ago.

“You and I have unfinished business,” the ad-hal said. A gateway opened behind him, a swirling pool of darkness.

Mrak turned, like a chastised child, and together they walked into it, the ad-hal’s fingers still on Mrak’s shoulder.

“Where is he taking him?” Helen asked.

“Nowhere good,” Maud told her.

*

The Draziri left, shell-shocked and lost, held together by the Draziri who had attacked Mrak. He turned out to be Mrak’s cousin. Before Her Grace retired to make herself presentable for dinner, she informed me that she’d had several conversations with him and in her opinion he wasn’t a complete idiot. I allowed them to go. The fight was over and I had never wanted this fight to happen in the first place.

The werewolves stayed. They were tired from fighting and hungry, and they wanted to talk to Sean and his parents. They crowded into my front room, loud and growly. I glanced into the front room, hoping for a glimpse of Sean, but I could barely see him, crowded by the mercenaries. It would have to wait. That was okay. We had time now.

Orro cornered me in the kitchen. “The holiday dinner was supposed to include eleven beings. Now that number is doubled!”

Aha. “Does this mean you’re unequal to the task?”

Orro puffed out, looming over me. “I am a Red Cleaver chef!”

I nodded.

“I require two hours.”

He spun on his foot.

“Thank you for the ice cream,” I told his back. “It was the best thing I have ever tasted.”

His spikes rose, shivering, and he sped off into the kitchen.

I raided Gertrude Hunt’s very old wine cellar, picked several bottles at random and let the inn take them to the Grand Ballroom. The tables I used during the peace summit were still stored underneath, and I pulled two of them out, arranged the bottles there, and asked Orro to serve some bread and cheese when he got a moment.

Once he was done, I headed to the front room. “Gertrude Hunt welcomes you to our Christmas feast. We’ll serve refreshments now. Follow me, please.”

The werewolves fell on the wine, bread and cheese like hungry beasts. Sean brushed by me and squeezed my hand, before they dragged him with them. Wing and Marais joined them. Wing was beside himself at being treated like a hero. Marais was slowly thawing. I’d provided him with a room and a shower to freshen up, and he looked much better now, without slime covering his hair. A couple of glasses of wine and he would be able to go home to his family. He still had that owlish, not-quite-right look in his eyes, but all in all he was handling this rather well. I’d have to thank him later when things died down.