His ears drooped more. He was killing me with cuteness. “Oh.”
“Is Nuan Cee giving you trouble?” I asked.
“It is a very expensive emerald. I am responsible to my family.”
Since the otrokari took their ball, no doubt made of skulls and wrapped in the skin of their enemies, and stomped off in a huff to their quarters, the peace summit effectively ground to a halt. That meant my afternoon was free.
“I tell you what, I’ll look for it today.”
Cookie’s eyes brightened. “Thank you!”
He scampered off, caught up with the merchant procession, and followed them out.
Nuan Cee lingered in the ballroom and approached me. “What did Nuan Couki want?”
I raised my eyebrows. “That is between me and Cookie.”
“Hmpph.” Nuan Cee peered at the retreating form of his thrice removed cousin’s seventh son.
“Rough day?” I asked.
“I do not hold much hope for these negotiations,” he said.
“It’s only day two.”
Nuan Cee glanced at me. “Trade is the oldest and most noble profession in the Galaxy and making deals is its currency. It is a rite as ancient as the cosmos and the very foundation of mathematics. Something is always equal to something else and an exchange can be made. You desire something and so you surrender something to obtain the desired result. Life is trade; we trade our labor for its fruit, we trade hours of study for knowledge, we trade pleasure for pleasure or sometimes for wealth, security, or offspring. I have made thousands of deals. I cannot deal with these people. I have nothing they want. I offer them peace, but they don’t want it. They only want war.”
He shook his head.
“Give them a chance,” I said.
“I will. But I will take steps.”
He sounded ominous.
“Also, we have some requests. I shall send my people to you with them.”
Oh goodie. “I look forward to it.”
I sealed everyone’s doors and went into the orchard. Beast ran ahead of me and sniffed at the mangled trees.
The remnants of the Sentinel were still scattered on the ground. Four of my twenty trees lay broken. I clenched my teeth. The trees were an extension of the inn, as much as everything on the inn’s grounds was a part of Gertrude Hunt. Seeing them broken like this physically hurt. I wanted to hug them and put them back together.
George would pay for this. One way or another.
I kicked a chunk of the Sentinel’s frame. Ow.
“I’m so sorry.”
The remaining trees rustled.
I nodded at the Sentinel. “Take this thing. Absorb what you can.” The inn could use all of that metal and advanced circuitry. George wasn’t getting any of it back.
The Sentinel sunk into the ground. The severed trunks of apple trees melted into the grass as well. I went back inside, got a cup of tea, and sat down in the living room in my favorite chair. Beast hopped into her dog bed, turned around three times, and flopped.
The inn recorded every minute of the summit. It should be easy enough to find out who took Cookie’s emerald. I just had to watch the some five hours of recordings and figured out where it went.
“I need a screen and the recording of the first night of the summit.”
A screen descended from the ceiling, growing on a thin stalk. The recording began. I flicked through it, fast forwarding to Cookie’s entrance… The problem was, he was throwing gems by the paw-full. It was hard to say which specific emerald he was referring to.
I became aware of someone looming at my side and paused the recording.
“Yes?”
“Mint.” Orro shook a sprig of mint at me.
“Okay?”
He stuck the sprig under my nose. “It’s wilted! I cannot be expected to cook with wilted mint.”
“I’ll go out later today and buy more mint.”
“Good!” He thrust a piece of paper in front of me. Pictures of herbs, meat, rice, milk, and eggs filled it in two neat columns with the prices in big black numbers next to them.
“What is this?”
“Other things I need.”
“Where did you get this?”
“Your markets send out lists of groceries printed on this obsolete paper.”
“You took these from an HEB flyer?”
Orro waved his claws at me. “I don’t know what it’s called. Of all the grocery market lists, that one was best. I need these things. We have to serve a banquet.”
I opened my mouth to argue and clamped it shut. He had a point. We hadn’t served a formal, sit down meal.
“Things!” Orro shook the paper at me.
“I will buy them.” I took the paper. “Thank you.”
He dropped a thin slice of lemon into my tea and disappeared into the kitchen.