Sweep in Peace (Innkeeper Chronicles #2)

He stabbed his cane into the pathway. Images exploded: a vast roiling nebula, spaceships, planets, ancient ruins, strange buildings, terrible and beautiful beings… They spun around us, vivid, bright, loud…. Sophie looked at them and stars reflected in her eyes.

“Look at it!” George’s voice shuddered with barely contained awe. “Look at it! Don’t you want to experience it? Don’t you want to be brave? You are not a gentle flower who spends its whole life in a greenhouse. You are a wildfire, Lark. A wildfire.”

A sun burst on the images, its violent fury drowning the cosmos.

“Dare to take that step and I will show you wonders beyond your imagination. I will give you a chance to make a difference. Come with me.” George offered his hand to her. “Live. Join me or not, but live, gods damn you, because I cannot stand the thought of you slowly aging here like some dusty fossil under glass. Take my hand and bring your sword. The Universe is waiting.”





Chapter 7


We entered the inn twenty minutes before the start of the summit. Jack greeted us in the front room. A wide grin split his face.

He looked Sophie up and down, scrutinizing her gown and the two swords she carried in her hands. “What is it you’re wearing? Are you trying to be mistaken for a girl?”

Sophie arched her eyebrows and punched him in the arm.

“What was that for?”

“That was for leaving without telling anyone good-bye.”

I turned to George, who was carrying Sophie’s large canvas bag. “You can set that down.”

He carefully placed the bag on the floor and it sank into the wood. Sophie’s eyes widened.

“Come with me, please,” I told her. “I will show you to your room.”

I led her down the east hallway. The best place would be near Caldenia, in the neutral wing. I had already explained the inn and the rules of being a guest. “I am going to put you next to a permanent guest of the inn.”

“You’re irritated with George,” Sophie said. “Why?”

I blinked.

“Don’t feel bad. You hid it very well, but I’ve been trained to read body language.”

I sighed. “I have less than fifteen minutes with you. I have to be there when the summit starts. Welcoming a guest to the inn is a duty innkeepers hold sacred. It must be done properly, but George left me no time. I hate to rush.”

Caldenia stepped out of her room. “Another guest? How delightful.”

“Her Grace, Caldenia ka ret Magren,” I said.

Sophie dropped into an elegant curtsy and rose.

Caldenia’s eyes sparkled. “And what is your name, my dear?”

“Sophie.”

“Just Sophie?”

Sophie smiled. “For now.”

“Are you going to view the summit?” Caldenia asked.

“I was considering it.”

“You absolutely must visit me. I have an entire balcony to myself.”

“I would be delighted,” Sophie said.

“It is settled then.” Her Grace smiled and proceeded down the hallway, her gown flaring behind her with regal majesty.

I paused before the door. Normally I would have offered her some refreshments and spoken with her in the front room, slowly building her room based on her responses. There was no time. I had to guess. Argh. What would Sophie like? She held herself with a kind of measured poise that seemed natural but was probably the result of years of etiquette training and education. Caldenia had picked up on it immediately. They were from different worlds but they likely moved in similar circles, those of aristocratic educated women. When I looked at her, I pictured her in a Southern mansion, all white colonnades and plush furniture, but something didn’t seem quite right. So, clean and elegantly muted furnishings in a traditional style or tastefully elaborate pattern medley of English countryside?

“She isn’t human, is she?” Sophie asked.

“No.”

“Her teeth are sharp and pointed.”

“She is very dangerous,” I said. There was something about Sophie behind all of that polish and refinement, a kind of hidden fragility. Perhaps fragility was the wrong word. Brittleness, like a blade that was too sharp. No, neither clean and elegant nor elaborate. Damn it, George. I had to commit to something. I couldn’t just stand there before the door.

Go with your gut feeling. That’s what Mom always said.

“Caldenia will do nothing to harm you, because the inn is her refuge and she knows that attacking another guest, unless it was done in self-defense, would violate our agreement. She is very manipulative, however.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Sophie said.

I opened the door. Golden pine floors stretched to the wooden walls painted with a gentle beige. I left the wall framing exposed, as if all of the insulation had been stripped out. A simple but comfortable bed, built with rough Louisiana cypress, offered a thick mattress in a sturdy frame, plush white covers, and plump pillows. A beige woven rug, none too new, shielded the floor. Pale green curtains framed two wide windows, offering a view of the orchard. Between them a door permitted access to a long wooden balcony. A roughly hewn bookshelf in the corner held several paperbacks. A weapon rack waited next to the bookshelf, ready to receive swords.