One Fell Sweep
Page 71
Lord Soren puffed out his chest.
“A lesser knight would’ve died. Truly, Lord Arland is proof that an exceptional bloodline bears an exceptional fruit.”
Lord Soren puffed himself even bigger. “He is the pride of our House.”
“Without a doubt.” Maud bowed her head. “Good day, my lord.”
“Good day, my lady.”
Arland turned, holding Helen while she was pretending to slice his neck with her dagger and pretended to finally notice his uncle. “Uncle! There you are.”
Lord Soren pondered the two of them for a long moment and walked toward them.
“You have no shame,” I murmured to Maud.
“No,” she said. “Also, as vampires go, Arland isn’t altogether terrible. I simply smoothed the way. That was the least I could do. He saved my baby.”
My sister walked away. Lord Soren puzzled over Helen, then turned to his nephew. “Tell me of the World Killer.”
CHAPTER 12
I walked the length of the ballroom, making sure I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. Helen watched me, her eyes big and round. Beast lay by her, four paws in the air. When Helen forgot to pet her furry stomach, Beast wiggled until petting resumed.
I stood in the center of the floor where a mosaic depicted a stylized version of Gertrude Hunt, raised my broom, and pulled with my power. Bright tinsel and strands of golden lights spiraled out of the floor and wrapped about the beautiful columns. Garlands of pine branches studded with gold and white glass ornaments and wrapped with sparkling ribbons traced the walls. Vines sprang from the ceiling, dripping down large delicate poinsettias, their white and red petals glittering, as if dusted with fairy powder. Wing would like that.
The floor at the far wall split and a massive Christmas tree rose, growing out of a fifteen-foot-wide drum. I sank the drum just below the floor level and let the mosaic close over it. I’d gotten this tree last year, the second Christmas in the inn. It came to me cut, and then the inn touched it with its magic, and overnight it had rooted and grew. It was twenty feet tall now, full and healthy, its green needles ready for the decorations, which appeared out of the wall in a dumpster-sized bin.
I waved my hand and the inn gently plucked a five-point star from the top of the bin and lowered it onto the tree top. It blinked and glowed with golden light.
Helen stared at it in awe. “Christmas?”
“Christmas,” I told her.
The look in her eyes was everything.
“Look at this.” I reached into the bin and picked out a glass orb. About the size of a large grapefruit, and ruby red, it glowed gently, as if fire was trapped within. I held it out to her.
“Breathe on it.”
Helen blew a puff of breath onto the glass. A tiny lightning storm burst inside, the crimson lightning kissing the glass. She giggled.
“Where should we put it?” I offered her the sphere.
She pointed to a branch seven feet off the ground. “There.”
I held out the orb. “The master decorator has spoken. If you please…”
A thin tendril slipped from the wall, picked up the orb, and neatly deposited it on the branch.
“Is there more?” Helen asked.
“There is more,” I told her. “This whole box is full of treasures from all around the Ggalaxy. It’s a magic box for a magical tree.”
I dipped my hand into the bin and drew the next ornament out. It was a little bigger and crystal clear. Inside a tiny tree spread black crooked limbs. Triangular green leaves dotted its branches and between them clusters of light blue flowers bloomed. Everything within the globe, from the details of the roots to lichen on the trunk, was amazingly lifelike.
“Oooh. Is it real?”
“I don’t know. The only way to find out is to break it. But if we broke it, that would be the end of the mystery.”
She put her nose to the glass. Her eyes crossed slightly, trying to focus on the tree. She was killing me with cute.
“You can keep it,” I told her. “That can be Helen’s ornament.”
Her face lit up. Helen stepped toward the tree, turned, catlike on her toes, and looked toward the door.
The Hiru had left their room and were coming toward us.
“Don’t be afraid,” I told her.
“They smell,” she whispered. “And they look gross.”
“I know. But they are still sentient beings. They never hurt anyone. They are gentle and the Draziri hunt them and kill them wherever they can find them.”
“Why?” Helen asked.
“Nobody knows. Try talking to them. Maybe they will tell you.”
“Why do you protect them, Aunt Dina?”
“There are killings that are justified. Killing someone who is trying to kill you is self-defense. Killing a being who is suffering and is beyond help is mercy. Killing someone because you don’t like the way they look is murder. There is no room for murder in this inn. I won’t stand for it.”
The two Hiru made it through the door, Sunset in the lead, moving one step at a time, their mechanical joints grinding despite lubrication. The odor of pungent rotten fish hit us. You’d think I would get used to it by now, but no. I strained to not grimace.
The Hiru came closer. Helen looked a little blue. She was trying to hold her breath. The smell must’ve been hell on vampire senses. Sean never gave any indication it bothered him, but it had to be terrible for him.
Helen opened her mouth with a pop, pointed at the tree, and said, “Christmas!”
“A lesser knight would’ve died. Truly, Lord Arland is proof that an exceptional bloodline bears an exceptional fruit.”
Lord Soren puffed himself even bigger. “He is the pride of our House.”
“Without a doubt.” Maud bowed her head. “Good day, my lord.”
“Good day, my lady.”
Arland turned, holding Helen while she was pretending to slice his neck with her dagger and pretended to finally notice his uncle. “Uncle! There you are.”
Lord Soren pondered the two of them for a long moment and walked toward them.
“You have no shame,” I murmured to Maud.
“No,” she said. “Also, as vampires go, Arland isn’t altogether terrible. I simply smoothed the way. That was the least I could do. He saved my baby.”
My sister walked away. Lord Soren puzzled over Helen, then turned to his nephew. “Tell me of the World Killer.”
CHAPTER 12
I walked the length of the ballroom, making sure I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. Helen watched me, her eyes big and round. Beast lay by her, four paws in the air. When Helen forgot to pet her furry stomach, Beast wiggled until petting resumed.
I stood in the center of the floor where a mosaic depicted a stylized version of Gertrude Hunt, raised my broom, and pulled with my power. Bright tinsel and strands of golden lights spiraled out of the floor and wrapped about the beautiful columns. Garlands of pine branches studded with gold and white glass ornaments and wrapped with sparkling ribbons traced the walls. Vines sprang from the ceiling, dripping down large delicate poinsettias, their white and red petals glittering, as if dusted with fairy powder. Wing would like that.
The floor at the far wall split and a massive Christmas tree rose, growing out of a fifteen-foot-wide drum. I sank the drum just below the floor level and let the mosaic close over it. I’d gotten this tree last year, the second Christmas in the inn. It came to me cut, and then the inn touched it with its magic, and overnight it had rooted and grew. It was twenty feet tall now, full and healthy, its green needles ready for the decorations, which appeared out of the wall in a dumpster-sized bin.
I waved my hand and the inn gently plucked a five-point star from the top of the bin and lowered it onto the tree top. It blinked and glowed with golden light.
Helen stared at it in awe. “Christmas?”
“Christmas,” I told her.
The look in her eyes was everything.
“Look at this.” I reached into the bin and picked out a glass orb. About the size of a large grapefruit, and ruby red, it glowed gently, as if fire was trapped within. I held it out to her.
“Breathe on it.”
Helen blew a puff of breath onto the glass. A tiny lightning storm burst inside, the crimson lightning kissing the glass. She giggled.
“Where should we put it?” I offered her the sphere.
She pointed to a branch seven feet off the ground. “There.”
I held out the orb. “The master decorator has spoken. If you please…”
A thin tendril slipped from the wall, picked up the orb, and neatly deposited it on the branch.
“Is there more?” Helen asked.
“There is more,” I told her. “This whole box is full of treasures from all around the Ggalaxy. It’s a magic box for a magical tree.”
I dipped my hand into the bin and drew the next ornament out. It was a little bigger and crystal clear. Inside a tiny tree spread black crooked limbs. Triangular green leaves dotted its branches and between them clusters of light blue flowers bloomed. Everything within the globe, from the details of the roots to lichen on the trunk, was amazingly lifelike.
“Oooh. Is it real?”
“I don’t know. The only way to find out is to break it. But if we broke it, that would be the end of the mystery.”
She put her nose to the glass. Her eyes crossed slightly, trying to focus on the tree. She was killing me with cute.
“You can keep it,” I told her. “That can be Helen’s ornament.”
Her face lit up. Helen stepped toward the tree, turned, catlike on her toes, and looked toward the door.
The Hiru had left their room and were coming toward us.
“Don’t be afraid,” I told her.
“They smell,” she whispered. “And they look gross.”
“I know. But they are still sentient beings. They never hurt anyone. They are gentle and the Draziri hunt them and kill them wherever they can find them.”
“Why?” Helen asked.
“Nobody knows. Try talking to them. Maybe they will tell you.”
“Why do you protect them, Aunt Dina?”
“There are killings that are justified. Killing someone who is trying to kill you is self-defense. Killing a being who is suffering and is beyond help is mercy. Killing someone because you don’t like the way they look is murder. There is no room for murder in this inn. I won’t stand for it.”
The two Hiru made it through the door, Sunset in the lead, moving one step at a time, their mechanical joints grinding despite lubrication. The odor of pungent rotten fish hit us. You’d think I would get used to it by now, but no. I strained to not grimace.
The Hiru came closer. Helen looked a little blue. She was trying to hold her breath. The smell must’ve been hell on vampire senses. Sean never gave any indication it bothered him, but it had to be terrible for him.
Helen opened her mouth with a pop, pointed at the tree, and said, “Christmas!”
