The Draziri had no wings. Maybe they lost them during their evolution. Maybe they never had them. But the colors on the wings of their god would put a nebula to shame. It was the same reason ancient Greeks carved the pinnacle of human perfection into marble whenever they wanted to portray a god. It was an ideal and an idea, the concept of soaring through clouds on wings the color of star fire, free of gravity. Free of the world.
I’d read that file forward and backward. There was nothing I could find that told me why the Draziri had declared their holy crusade against the Hiru. The Hiru’s world had a unique signature, an exceedingly rare combination of elements in the atmosphere and soil, which ensured their survival. There was nothing quite like it, which explained why despite being an advanced race, they never spread through the galaxy. They didn’t present any threat. They were homeworld-bound. So why kill them? What could they possibly have done to warrant extermination?
Perhaps, it was just the principle of the thing. The Draziri lived in a theocracy, led by a God-King. Their priesthood acted as their lawmakers. Maybe when they had ventured into space, the priests became worried that their society wouldn’t survive the collision with other civilizations and they would be overthrown. On Earth, when Pope Urban II wanted to consolidate his power, he started the first Crusade. Maybe the Draziri priests decided that a holy crusade would be a great way to stay in power. They looked around, saw their closest neighbors, and said, “These beings are ugly and they smell awful. They would make a handy enemy. Let’s kill them in the name of our exquisite god.”
“Beautiful,” Sean’s mother said behind me.
“The Draziri are beautiful people. It makes sense that they would have a beautiful god.” It’s too bad that their religion was so ugly.
“Thank you for saving my son,” she said.
“No thanks are needed. I love him.” That was the first time I had said it out loud. Saying it to her was easier than saying it to Sean.
“He loves you too.”
“I know.”
“My name is Gabriele.”
I got up. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She stepped forward and hugged me. I hugged her back.
“I’m sorry about restraining your husband.”
“You’re an innkeeper,” she said. “He doesn’t hold a grudge. We’re both sorry. He hadn’t told us. About Nexus, or Wilmos, or any of that. He usually comes home for Christmas. I called him, and he sounded so distant. I felt that I was losing my child.”
“It’s my fault,” I told her. “Nexus and Wilmos. I took him to Baha-char. I knew the moment he walked into Wilmos’ shop, I’d lose him at least for a while. The universe is so big and loud.”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s in his blood. He wanted to test himself. My son has the blood of Auul in his veins. He was always restless. Earth just wasn’t enough. I used to worry that I would lose him to some dumb war thousands of miles away. I had no idea I almost lost him to Nexus. I would tear Wilmos’ head off, if Sean would let me. It was the perfect trap for him. He wouldn’t have broken free if it wasn’t for you.”
“He would have eventually.”
She shook her head again.
Lord Soren walked to the doorway and cleared his throat.
“Please excuse me.”
She nodded.
I got up and walked over to Lord Soren.
“May I speak with you privately?” he asked.
What now? “Of course.” I led him across the hallway, built a simple room, and opened a door in the wall to it. “Please.”
We walked inside and I sealed the door behind us.
“How can I help you, Lord Soren?”
“I understand that your father was considered a hero by other innkeepers.”
What? “Yes.”
“Why?”
“My father was a guest in one of the inns, when the innkeeper and her children were attacked. He defended her. That’s very unusual for a guest.”
“Did he succeed?”
“In part. He bought them enough time to get out. The children survived, but the innkeeper died of her injuries. My father became trapped within the inn until my mother freed him centuries later.”
Lord Soren nodded gravely. Clearly, this was terribly important.
“Do you know of your family on your father’s side?”
“No.”
“What about on your mother’s?”
“Some. We don’t keep the same meticulous records your people do.” I waved my hand. A small screen opened in the wall and the picture of my grandparents appeared. They were sitting together, my grandfather in his Navy uniform and my grandmother in a lovely blue dress. When I left for college, I’d taken a lot of photographs with me. They were all I had left now. “This is my grandfather and grandmother. He was a fireman. My grandmother was a school teacher.”
Lord Soren squinted. “Is that a uniform?”
“My grandfather served in the Navy during the Vietnam war.”
“Are those ribbons indicative of meritorious service?”
“Yes.”
“So your family understands martial traditions.”
“Of course. My grandfather served in the Navy. His father was in the Marines during World War II.”
“And your ancestors are long-lived?”
This was just getting weirder and weirder. “For humans, yes.”
“Any genetic abnormalities?”
“Not that I know of. Lord Soren, what is this about?”