His wolf eyes shone at me. “The Assembly sent over a message through Tony. Apparently, they watched the show and decided they didn’t need to see us anymore. Overall, it seems our performance was ‘satisfactory.’”
I rolled my eyes. “Satisfactory, my ass.”
Sean grinned at me. “That’s my line.”
“I’d like to see any of them contain two Drífen lieges fighting.” I rolled over and snuggled to him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Sore. And my head hurts. It was so much power. Did I scare you?”
“A little. The inn didn’t freak out, so I knew you weren’t too hurt. You were awesome.”
“We were awesome. It’s we now.” I glanced at him. “It’s not too let to back out of being an innkeeper, you know. You could still go off and be a werewolf of adventure.”
“Nah. I’m good.” He kissed me.
The anxious cloud that had hung over me since the Assembly had issued their summons vanished. They could send all the summons they wanted. I didn’t care. This was my inn and Sean loved me.
Half an hour later, we came down for the Treaty Stay banquet, and I wore my Treaty Stay robe, silver with a pink trim. I had a silver robe for Sean too, but all of the magic in the world couldn’t force him into it. He wore jeans and a black sweater and threatened to switch to pajamas if I made a fuss. He didn’t own any pajamas as far as I knew, and I made a note to buy him some.
The foxglove tree bloomed. It was a riot of color, lavender, white, and pink, every branch dripping with huge blossoms, as if Gertrude Hunt had poured its magic into the tree to celebrate. Tables had been set in the Grand Ballroom, brimming with food. Orro had cooked so much, I was afraid the furniture might break under the weight off all those dishes.
The Grand Ballroom buzzed with many voices. The Drífen took the far table, where they sat relaxed, making jokes. The danger had clearly passed. The Medamoth had joined Caldenia at our table, and the koo-ko occupied the two remaining long tables, adjusted for their size. Qoros clearly had trouble with their darting and I heard Caldenia offer him a tranquilizer, although I wasn’t sure whether it was to calm his nerves or to drug a koo-ko. I could totally picture her Grace whispering into his big ear, “There are so many. Surely nobody would miss just one. Or two.” I kept counting the koo-ko just in case.
The philosophers presented me with a five-thousand-word opinion on the question I had posed, the summary of which amounted to “It doesn’t matter who was the first founder, it is the debate itself that has value, for through the debate the truth will be distilled.” I decided to take it, because arguing with them would only give them an excuse to debate some more, and then nobody would get to have dinner.
Magic chimed. Ah, finally. I opened the Baha-char door and tracked the visitor as he made his way down the hall. I leaned to Sean. “Could you keep an eye on them for a minute?”
He nodded, looked at Caldenia and Qoros, and gave them a hard stare. Her Grace wriggled her fingers at him. Qoros put his hand on his chest, pretending to be shocked.
I stepped out into the hallway. A large figure emerged from the soft gloom, a Quillonian, so old, his quills had turned pure white.
I bowed. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Grand Chef.”
“After that muffin, how could I not? Is he expecting me?”
“He has no idea.”
“How did you find me? The apprenticeships of the Red Cleaver chefs are a closely guarded secret.”
“When I invited Orro into the inn, I ran a complete background check. On the day he sent out the soup that ruined his career, you entered a period of mourning. You were in seclusion for six months. Only a devastating event would have caused you to abstain from your art for so long.”
Chef Adri nodded. “He is my brightest pupil.”
I led the elder Quillonian into the hall. In the center of the banquet floor, Orro held a platter of rolls, looking for a spot on the far table. He turned and saw us. His hands shook.
Chef Adri smiled.
Orro dropped the platter onto the table and fell to his knees. Chef Adri rushed to him and picked him up.
“None of that.”
“Master…”
“Today there are two masters here. I have come to learn from you, my former pupil. Share with me what you have discovered. I cannot wait to taste your food.”
It took another couple of minutes to get Chef Adri seated, primarily because Orro couldn’t find a chair worthy enough. Finally, everyone took their places. I rose and looked over the banquet hall, the guests who would leave, the friends who would stay, and I was grateful to be exactly where I was.
The lanterns flared gently. A shower of pale petals rained from the ceiling. Soft music filled the room.
I smiled and said, my voice carrying through the inn, “Welcome to the Treaty Stay.”
The End.
Sneak Peek of EMERALD BLAZE
PROLOGUE
The wolf was coming.
Lander Morton knew this because he’d invited the wolf into his home. His body man, Sheldon, had come to tell him the wolf was at the door and had gone to fetch him. Now the two of them were coming back, but Lander only heard one set of footsteps echo through the house.
Lander shifted in his wheelchair and took a long swallow of his bourbon. Fire rolled down his throat. His old guts would make him pay for it later, but he didn’t care. Some men were men, and others were wolves in human skin. He needed a human wolf for this job, and he would get one.
For the first time in the last three days he felt something other than crushing grief. The new emotion cut through the thick fog of despair, and he recognized it as anticipation. No, it was more than that. It was a heady mix of expectation, apprehension, and excitement tinged with fear. He used to feel like this years ago on the verge of closing a huge deal. It had been decades since he’d experienced the splash of adrenaline like this and for a moment, he felt young again.
Sheldon appeared in the doorway of the study and stood aside, letting the other man enter. The guest took three steps inside and stopped, letting himself be seen. He was young, so young, and he moved with an easy grace that made Lander feel ancient. Strong, tall, handsome in that Mediterranean way, shaped by sun and saltwater. When Felix’s boy grew up, he might look like that.
Pain lashed him, and Lander struggled with it.
His guest waited.
Lander looked at his face. There it was, in the eyes, the wolf looking back at him. Cold. Hungry.
About time he got here. No, he couldn’t say that. He had to be civil. He couldn’t fuck this up. “Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice.
Sheldon stepped back into the hall and closed the doors. He would wait by them to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted.
“Please think nothing of it,” the guest said. “My condolences.”
Lander nodded to the bottle of Blood Oath Pact bourbon waiting on a corner of the desk. “A drink?”
The guest shook his head. “I don’t drink on the job.”
“Smart.” Lander splashed another inch of bourbon into his glass. He wasn’t sure if he was drowning his grief or building up liquid courage. If he failed to state his case and the man walked away… He couldn’t let him walk away.