How can you live through this? How can anyone live through this?
I can’t!
Make it stop. Make it stop, please.
Please. I beg you.
Stop!
The magic vanished. A single image burned before me, a field of bodies under a bloody sky, and then it too dimmed to nothing.
The inn released my hand, and I collapsed to the floor. Next to me George was panting. His nose and eyes bled. Sophie stood by him, her sword in her hands, the severed stamens of the flower melting into nothing on the floor. We’d agreed that when George neared his limit, she would end it.
All around me people curled on the floor. Some wept, some buried their faces in their hands. A huge otrokar was rocking back and forth.
I licked my dry lips. My voice came out rusty. “Stop it.”
Across the room the Khanum stared at me with haunted eyes.
“You can stop it. You can do it today. Right now. No more. Please, no more.”
I stood on my back porch, smiled, and watched the long line of the otrokars depart into the night. The Merchants and the Holy Anocracy would follow. Half an hour later and the inn would be almost empty.
It took the three factions less than an hour to hammer out a peace agreement. Nexus had been split along the existing boundaries, with both Horde and the Holy Anocracy surrendering a stretch of territory to create a demilitarized demarcation zone, a no-man’s-land that would keep them separated and hopefully minimize the incidents. Clan Nuan’s territory had been expanded at the cost of the otrokars and vampires. In return, Clan Nuan cut its export and import prices by sixty percent. The agreements had been signed, spat upon, and marked with blood. Everyone had made painful concessions. Everyone stood to reap great benefits. Everyone would have a hell of a time trying to sell the treaty back home, but at least all those present were united in their satisfaction with the arrangement.
Now they were leaving. Such was the way of an innkeeper. Guests came. Guests left. I remained.
The otrokars were moving fast. I couldn’t blame them. Everyone had been traumatized by the joining, but at least nobody went mad. Sophie had severed the link just in time. I didn’t want to contemplate what would’ve happened if she let it go on for another minute or two. I would have nightmares for weeks as it was. George was standing to the left of me, pale as a sheet, and both his brother and Gaston hovered near him. He’d almost fallen twice already, and they were ready to catch him. I had offered him a chair, but he refused.
The Khanum and Dagorkun were the last in the line. They halted before me.
“Your parents,” Dagorkun said quietly. “We saw your memories.”
Oh no. I’d hoped that wouldn’t happen. I had directed the inn to search for the most traumatic experiences connected to Nexus. The only experience I had connected to that planet was when my brother Klaus and I landed there six months after our parents disappeared. We were combing the galaxy trying to find them, and the pain of their disappearances had been so raw. I couldn’t recall thinking of them during the link, but I must’ve done so, and now every guest in the inn who had been connected to Gertrude Hunt had seen deep into a private place in my soul.
Well, I did it to them. It was only fair.
“We will keep our eyes and ears open,” Dagorkun said.
“Thank you,” I said.
The Khanum looked at me, reached out, and crushed me to her in a bear hug. My bones groaned. She let go and they went off, through the orchard toward the shimmering tunnel leading to a faraway place.
The Merchants followed, including Nuan Sama, who was wrapped in what looked like a space-age straitjacket. I had given her back to Nuan Cee. The Merchants could deal with her crime. I had a feeling taking a contract unsanctioned by the family was going to cost her much more than whatever tortures I could level on her.
Clan Nuan departed one by one, heading toward their ship in the field. Cookie walked by me, grinned, and showed me a big green gem clutched in his paw. So, the emerald was returned. Clan Nuan would have to find some other way to entrap their young adults. I had no doubt they would think of something.
Grandmother passed me in her palanquin, favoring me with a nod. Nuan Cee nodded to me as well, and I nodded back. The next time I went to Baha-char to seek a Merchant, I would have a rough time bargaining, but some things couldn’t be helped. Maybe I would shop at his competitors. Stranger things had happened.
The Holy Anocracy was the last. They moved past me, huge in their armor. Lady Isur and Lord Robart walked together, side by side. As they passed me, Lady Isur gently touched Robart’s forearm. He glanced at her and put his hand over hers. Maybe there would be something there in the future. Who knew?
Arland was the last of the line. He lingered by me.
“Here we are again,” he said. “I’m leaving.”
“And I’m staying.”
“Lady Dina…”
“Your people are waiting for you, Lord Arland.”
He smiled, showing me his fangs. “Until next time then.”
“Until next time.”
“He has feelings for you,” Sophie said softly.
“He likes the idea of me,” I told her. “In practice, both he and I know this would never work.”
I turned to George.
“It is our turn,” he said.
“Yes. Congratulations on your first successful arbitration.”
“It wouldn’t have been possible without you,” he said.
“You’re right. It wouldn’t have been.”
George offered me a smile. The impact was staggering, but I was now immune.
“I suppose I am now banned from the inn.”
“Well, you’ve broken my apple trees, deliberately inflicted emotional distress on me and my guests, and manipulated me into a dangerous magical ritual that could’ve cost my sanity. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to ban you, the Office of Arbitration is a valuable ally. So Gertrude Hunt will welcome you again, should you need our hospitality. At triple your current rate and an ironclad contract that you will sign before I let you set one foot into my inn.”
George laughed. “Very well. Our bill has been settled.”
I had checked the account an hour ago. My account showed a lovely new balance, complete with a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus marked as “apple trees.” The payment had been processed through a complicated system of the innkeeper network. It would stand up to scrutiny as long as all my taxes were filed properly.
“To borrow from the Marshal of House Krahr, until next time,” George said.
Yeah. Hopefully not too soon.
The top of his cane shone with bright light, and the Arbitrator’s people vanished.
I sank into my patio chair and sighed. The inn had sprouted lights shaped like grape clusters from the roof of the porch, and they bathed the space in a soft light. Finally. Everyone was gone.
The door swung open and Caldenia emerged onto the porch. Her Grace wore a light green kimono-style robe. She took the chair next to me. Orro followed and loomed over me, a seven-foot-tall, spiky shadow.
Oh. Right. He had to leave too. The kitchen would feel so empty and quiet without him. But there was no way I could afford him.
“I do believe you let the Arbitrator off too lightly,” Caldenia said.
I smiled.
Her Grace raised her eyebrows.
“I entered his name into the Problem Guests database, complete with the description of the apple incident. The next time he attempts to find an inn on Earth, he will find it exceedingly difficult. In fact, I’m pretty sure that he will have to return here. It’s frightening how high you can raise a price of a room when you are the only Innkeeper willing to take the guest in.”
Caldenia grinned.
I turned to Orro smiled at him. “Thank you so much for your help, Orro. I couldn’t have done it without you. You managed the impossible.”
He continued to stand over me without saying a word.
I raised my hand. The brick wall of the inn parted and a small datacard popped into my hand. I offered it to him. “This is your payment and some endorsements for you. It’s not much, but it is the least I can do.”