The door to his room swung open. I stepped aside.
Panels of rough fabric the color of beech wood sheathed the walls, framed by narrow polished wooden planks. The top of the wall was painted a soothing sage, the same color as the vaulted ceiling, with the kind of finish that put one in mind of parchment. A polished bamboo floor echoed the wooden accents on the walls, its boards the color of amber honey. A large platform bed stood against the left wall, simple and modern, yet retaining strong square lines. The bedspread was grey, the slew of pillows white edged with sage and gold. The fabric panels ended on both sides of the bed, letting the sage finish of the ceiling flow down to the floor, and an elaborate square Celtic knot, formed from varnished bamboo decorated the wall. Two bedside tables flanked the bed, simple rectangles of nine square drawers, stained nearly black, then distressed so the pale golden grain of acacia wood showed through. The door to a private balcony stood wide open, offering a hot tub and a view of the orchard.
It was a tranquil room, high-end yet masculine, peaceful and clean without being sterile. Stepping into it was like entering a refreshing lake after a hard sweaty run.
“My deepest apologies,” I told him. “I’m sorry you were attacked in my inn. I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
The wall parted and a tray slid out, offering a plethora of food from the banquet: the starters, the drinks, the desserts in tiny cups, and in the center, the pan-seared chicken. Orro must’ve recovered enough to put a plate together.
“The best chicken in the Galaxy,” Turan Adin said, a hint of something suspiciously resembling amusement in his voice.
“Of course,” I told him. “We only serve the best to our honored guests.”
I stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind me.
###
The trick to finding an invisible thief is making him or her visible, which sounded like the most obvious conclusion in the world. Teaching the inn to recognize the faint blur of the thief’s presence and target it was a lot harder.
I raised my head from the screen. I was sitting in my lab under the main floor of the inn. In front of me, the inn had formed a square niche in its walls five by five feet and roughly nine feet tall.
“And go,” I murmured.
A holographic projector in the wall of the niche conjured up the close approximation of the blur. The wall split and a jet of mist erupted over the blur. The niche’s walls looked exactly the same.
“Lights,” I murmured.
The light died. A black UV lamp came on, rotating slowly. Its beam swept the niche. Once sterile walls glowed with bright blue.
“Perfect.”
My screen blinked and changed into an image of my front room. George and Sophie were looking around, as if they had lost something.
“What is it?”
The two of them spun around, back to back, identical neutral expressions on their faces. My voice had emanated from the walls. Usually I didn’t do this because it was bad manners and guests tended to react badly to disembodied voices echoing through their living spaces, but I was still annoyed.
“We came to check on you,” Sophie said.
Wasn’t that sweet? I could tell them to piss off. Unfortunately, I was still an innkeeper and they were my guests to whom I would afford every courtesy even if it made my insides explode from the strain of containing my rage.
I waved at the inn. A set of stairs formed in the wall and I walked up into the front room. The floor flowed closed behind me.
George and Sophie looked at me.
“I’ll get us some tea,” Sophie said and went into the kitchen.
“She made you come down here to talk to me.” I took a seat on the sofa.
“Yes.” He lowered himself onto a chair opposite me.
“And you humored her. Her feelings are important to you, so you weighed the odds and decided that whatever plan you have wouldn’t be injured too much by you having this conversation with me, and here we are.”