Sweep of the Heart

6

Things are never simple when George gets involved. When we last left the inn, Dina had a surprising reveal about her brother Klaus and a plan to save Wilmos was beginning to take shape.

Let’s see what our favorite Arbitrator has down his elegant shirtsleeves.

Twenty-six hours later, Sean and I sat in front of the communication screen again. The elven prince was back. He was still a bit too pale, and there were lingering traces of fatigue in the lines of his face, but he was alert, clean, and well dressed. George’s fashion sense fell somewhere between a musketeer and a gentleman privateer. He was fond of shirts with wide sleeves, beautifully tailored vests, and tall leather boots. The embroidery on his dark blue vest was swoon worthy.

Sean would look great in that vest. Well, not that vest exactly, Sean would need a larger size. Maybe for Halloween…

I stopped myself. I had spent the entire day checking on Gorvar, worrying about Wilmos, and trying to research some way to Karron. I was so worn out, my brain had resorted to nonsense in self-defense.

“Thank you for your assistance,” George said. “It was most helpful.”

“I take it, your issue with the Valkkinians is resolved?” I asked.

“Yes.”

If one of us didn’t step into the breach, we would be dancing around the Klaus issue all night.

I raised my head. “How is my brother?”

“He is well,” George replied. “A rather unfortunate slip up on my part. I would appreciate it if you would attribute it to fatigue rather than indiscretion. Apparently, one-hundred and fifty hours without sleep significantly impaired my cognitive functions.”

Sean whistled quietly. “Six days is pushing it.”

George grimaced. “So it would seem. Lesson learned. Klaus has his reasons for his current course of action. You and your sister are very dear to him.”

“You don’t have to cover for him,” I told him. “He can explain himself when we meet.”

“You mentioned Karron,” George said. “I understand there was an incident at Baha-char?”

And he knew every detail of it. There was a whole flock of koo-ko present at the scene. By now the furthest reaches of known space were aware that Wilmos had been taken from his shop and only the shocking heroism and tremendous wisdom of the First Scholar had uncovered the kidnapper’s destination. I didn’t envy the juvenile sphinx. He was likely gone from Baha-char and back with his own people, where he would have to explain how exactly he managed to spectacularly embarrass his entire species in front of the known galaxy.

“A being resembling a corrupted ad-hal took Wilmos to Karron,” Sean said. “I need to get to that planet.”

“Quite impossible, I’m afraid,” George said. “Even our office doesn’t possess a craft able to survive a landing on and take off from that world.”

All of the hope went out of me at once.

“Not impossible,” Sean said. “Wilmos was taken there. Someone has the means to take him there and keep him alive, otherwise why not just kill him?”

“Clearly, they would like you to die in the attempt to rescue him.” George tilted his head to the side. “There is, however, a galactic power that maintains a portal gate to Karron.”

I sat up straighter.

“Why would they have a gate on Karron?” Sean asked.

“They have an outpost there.”

“What a coincidence,” Sean said.

George arched his brows. “Not at all. It’s not a coincidence, it is by design. Civilizations bring me their problems, and I find solutions. He has a problem, you are the solution to it, if you choose to be, and vice versa. That’s how the galaxy works.”

“And then both parties owe you a favor,” I said.

“Naturally.”

“Who is it and what does he want?” I asked.

He told us.

Wow.

“If you do this and it goes well, you could ask him for almost anything. He will be publicly indebted to you. I have raised the possibility of access to Karron with his chancellor. If you honor their request, they are happy to let you use their portal as many times as necessary. Their facility has been mothballed for a decade, but all the life support systems within it are still operational.”

Wilmos’ kidnapper had to be keeping him alive, otherwise why take him in the first place. That facility was the only habitable place on Karron. Wilmos had to be inside it.

George gave us a grave look.

“The universe is full of possibilities, so mathematically another way to travel to Karron exists, but I don’t know what it is. In my expert opinion, this is your best chance to rescue your friend. This entire affair is wrought with risk. The scale of the event they want you to host is unprecedented for an Earth inn. Even if everything goes well, which we all know it won’t, you still must physically travel to Karron and enact the rescue on your own. Please give this matter serious consideration. I have grown fond of both of you, and I would hate for you to throw away your lives. I will need an answer in twenty-four hours.”

He terminated the connection.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” Sean said. His face was completely neutral.

“Wilmos would do it for either of us,” I said.

Sean’s stone face didn’t fool me for a second. My parents were missing. Their entire inn had vanished in an instant with them inside it. The house, the guests, the garden, everything was gone, and only an empty lot had been left behind. Nobody had any answers. Nobody could even hazard a guess as to what happened. The uncertainty of not knowing was awful.

I’d been looking for them for years, and I would never give up. They were out there, somewhere, waiting to be rescued. I knew exactly how Sean felt, and I would do almost anything to spare Sean what I had gone through.

We had a location. We had to try.

“Will Caldenia be a problem?” Sean asked.

“Absolutely.” And I had no idea how I would even broach the subject with her.

We thought about it some more.

“I’m going to get him out,” he said.

I shook my head. “No, Sean. Not you. Us.”

“One of us will need to stay at the inn.”

“If they just wanted just you, they could have grabbed you during any of the outings you and Wilmos went on. They want me, or possibly both of us. We will go together. But first, we’ll have to pull off this nightmare event.”

“Nothing can ever be easy,” he said.

“Nope. We can’t even just walk into a trap like normal people. We have to work really hard first.”

He laughed, a quiet wolf chuckle.

I raised my hand. “One vote for yes. Any opposing?”

“We haven’t done anything dumb or dangerous for almost six months.” Sean pushed away from the wall on which he was leaning, walked over, and kissed me. “Let’s do this.”

“It’s a spouse selection,” I explained.

We sat in the kitchen, Sean and I on one side of the table, Caldenia and Marais on the other, with Orro on the end, on Sean’s right.

“It involves a powerful head of state,” I continued. “The spouse selection is very complex. The choice of the candidate depends on the genetic traits the spouse can offer, on what faction they represent, and on the political benefits that match will bring.”

Marais frowned. “But they are all the same species, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Sean said.

“It’s an old, established practice.” Caldenia waved her hand. “With the genetic science available to those with enough resources, gender and species don’t matter. As long as there is enough compatibility, you could marry a whale, Officer Marais. They would splice the DNA together into an offspring with the desired genetic traits and let the child mature to term in an artificial womb.”

Marais shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“It’s not about comfort but survival.” Caldenia bared her sharp teeth. “I carry the genetic roots of seven species in my body thanks to some long-term planning by my ancestors. They have served me very well.”

“The selection has been narrowed down to twelve candidates from one hundred and five,” I continued.

Caldenia’s eyes sparkled.

“Twelve is a lot,” Marais said.

“You have your two or three favorites but keep the others in the running for political considerations,” Caldenia explained. “And for the spectacle. There must be pageantry, after all. Spouse selections are greatly entertaining. A well-timed spouse selection followed by a lavish wedding can often quell civil unrest before it has a chance to explode in your face.”

“The ruler has an issue,” I said. “The prospective spouses-to-be keep killing each other.”

Caldenia leaned back and cackled. “This is absolutely delightful.”

“Apparently, it wouldn’t be problem under normal circumstances,” Sean said. “However, their religious leader is at the end of his life. He must find a suitable candidate to whom he can transfer his holy gift before he expires. Random murder interferes with that on a psychic level, and by law, he is required to be present for the entirety of the spouse selection.”

“I love it.” Caldenia grinned.

She would be a lot less happy in a minute.

Sean kept going. “They’ve tried everything to secure their premises, but each candidate has twenty retinue members, and they keep nuking each other in elaborate ways. They need a safe ground.”

Orro raised his hand and counted on his claws.

“We’re it,” I said. “If we can help him get to the altar, he will give us access to the special portal and their abandoned mining outpost on Karron, so we can go look for Wilmos.”

“What were they mining?” Caldenia asked.

“Fuel for a weapon,” Sean told her. We had done some research. “They mined a bunch of it and then decided the weapon was too inhumane to be used.”

Caldenia raised her eyebrows. “It broke.”

“Probably,” I said. “The point is, we have no other way of entering that planet.”

“How many?” Orro asked. “How many beings total?”

I tried to sound upbeat. “Three hundred. The ruler’s retinue, the candidates and their escorts, and the observers. A lot of powers in that region of space are sending diplomats to see what will happen, since the marriage will affect the balance of power.”

Orro blinked. “How many species?”

“At least fourteen. Probably more.”

He blinked again.

“Screen please,” I told the inn.

Gertrude Hunt sprouted a small screen on a tendril and held it up to Orro. He scrolled through the guest list.

“They are due to arrive in two days if we say yes,” I said.

“Of course, you must say yes.” Caldenia clapped her hands. “This will be marvelous.”

I had to do it now. “Your Grace, there is one tiny issue. The ruler is…”

“Don’t tell me!” She jumped up. “I want to be surprised.”

“Letere Olivione…” Sean started.

“Not another word! You will not ruin this for me.”

She swept out of the kitchen, the sleeves of her long green gown flaring from the wind of her passage.

“Well, shit,” Sean said.

I slumped onto the back of my chair.

“I take it there is a problem,” Marais said.

“Not yet,” Sean said. “But there will be one.”

I groaned. This was exactly what I was afraid of.

“I can get her. We can have the inn hold her and tell her,” Sean offered.

“She would be mortally offended.” I sighed. “Do you want to deal with her carrying a grudge for the next six months? Because I don’t.”

Orro had stopped scrolling and was staring at the screen, his eyes distant.

“Orro?” I asked gently. “Are three hundred guests too many?”

He raised his head. His eyes focused. “What are you implying? Are you implying my skills are not sufficient?”

Oh no, no, no, we’re not taking that scary road into Orro’s Offended Woods.

“She is asking if you need some assistance,” Sean said.

The chef frowned, pondered it for a second, and his eyes brightened. “Two!”

“What?” I asked.

“I will need two assistants! Maybe three. I need the species list. I need to go shopping. I need to go to Baha-char! I need things and money!”

He jumped up and ran at the pantry door. The inn helpfully slid it out of the way before Orro could collide with it head-on, and the chef vanished into the storage room.

Sean turned to Marais. “We would like to hire you for security to watch the place from the street. Just in case.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll help you anyway.”

“We absolutely have to pay you,” I told him. “It would be time away from your family.”

Marais thought about it. “I have to check regulations. There might be something in there that prevents me from taking a part-time job. Let me figure this out.”

“Thank you,” I told him.

He got up and left. It was just me and Sean now.

“Do you have any contacts who deal in bioweapons?” I asked.

“Wilmos has some nasty stuff in his shop. I can take it, I’m sure he won’t mind. Why?”

“One of the candidates is backed by the Dushegubs.”

Sean frowned. “I’ve read about those. They are sentient trees. Are they problematic?”

“They are not sentient. They are sapient, but unable to feel emotions. Dushegubs are calculating, homicidal, moving trees that feed on animal life. They know that other creatures have emotions and what those emotions are, and they don’t care. Their first option is murder, their second option is murder, and if that fails, they go straight to murder.”

“Well, at least they have their priorities straight.”

“They are banned as a species from the inns. I will have to apply for special permission to host them, and if we get it, we might have to kill one as an example.”

Sean stared at me.

“Trust me on this,” I told him. “Every time Dushegubs stay at the inn, someone dies. If we are lucky, it’s one of them.”

“Won’t it cause an issue with our bachelor?”

“I told them up front about it. They don’t care if we burn the entire Dushegub delegation to the ground. Apparently, their presence is so oppressively bloodthirsty, they give the Holy Ecclesiarch migraines.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sean said.

That was one way to put it.