"My lady," the vampire said in a deep, resonant voice. "I've come for my uncle. May I have your permission to enter?"
*** *** ***
The Marshal looked at me, waiting for an answer. Considering that his uncle was dying inside, there was only one answer I could give him.
"You may enter."
"Thank you, my lady."
"Follow me."
He trailed me down the path. Sean crossed his arms, shook his head, and joined us. I led them to the door. The Marshal thrust his flag into the ground and ducked inside, where his uncle waited under the glass hood. I waved my fingers at the flag. "Hide this."
The flag sank into the ground.
I nodded and went inside. The Marshall stood over his uncle, his face iced over.
"Remove the hood," I murmured to the house.
The glass rose above the body, lifted by a wooden tendril stretching from the wall, rolled off, and melted into the floor.
The vampire leaned over the prone body. His face turned grim. He leaned over the armor, placed his hands palms down on the chest, and pressed. Red light slid under his fingers. Probably scanning his fingerprints or DNA signature.
The armor clicked and the entire suit of armor split open and fell apart. Pieces of breastplate and leg plates fell to the floor. Lord Soren's bloody body lay motionless. A bright red stain marked his left side. If he were human, I'd say it was just under his heart.
A narrow blade slid out of the Marshal's right gauntlet. He sliced the shirt with a quick flick of the blade, revealing a wet hole gaping in Lord Soren's chest. The Marshal's left gauntlet split over the top of his forearm, and a disk of interlocking metal polished to a satin smoothness popped up. He plucked it free and squeezed the sides. Sharp spikes slid from the edge of the disk, pointing down. The Marshal positioned it over the wound and slammed it down into Lord Soren's body. Red glyphs flashed across the disk's surface. The Marshal turned to me.
"I've attached the field first-aid unit. It assessed the injury and will administer the necessary medicines. The wound is serious. I realize that I am intruding, but I humbly request some solitude. I must pray for my uncle."
"Of course."
"Thank you."
I looked at Sean. He sat in the chair by the coffee table.
"Sean? Don't you want to come upstairs to your room?"
"I like this chair. It's very comfortable."
Right. He'd decided he would sit here and watch the vampire. "It's not necessary."
"It won't bother me at all," the Marshal said. "In his place I would do the same thing."
I could make Sean move, but adding force, agitation, and possible violence to this situation now would be disrespectful. I sent a small pulse of magic through my staff. "Protocol VIGIL."
The wall next to Lord Soren's body ignited with a soft glow. A vast garden came into focus, a long path winding its way between the flowers and plants one would never find on Earth. The path climbed up the mountain, passing by the waterfalls and colossal trees. A bell rang, melodious, subdued, and a soft, sad melody followed, floating in the air. A procession of figures wearing white robes, their faces hidden by deep hoods, appeared on the path. The draft stirred long blue and black ribbons wrapped around their hands. Each figure held a long pole with a round lantern attached by a chain to its end. The lanterns, perfectly round and frosted, glowed with gentle yellow light.
A female voice began singing in tune with the melody. Other voices joined in, their individual sounds like stems of a single tree, growing fast and winding around the first singer. The air smelled of flowers, bergamot, and lemon. A feeling of deep peace descended on the room as if the tranquility of the garden and the singers wrapped around us, not isolating us from the world, but gently muting its sharpness to a soothing calm. Soft light spilled from the ceiling onto the Marshal, forming a complex circular pattern on the floor.
He turned to me, his eyes opened wide. "The Liturgy for the Wounded Soul. How did you know?"
My parents had sheltered injured vampire knights before. "I'm an innkeeper," I told him.
He took a step forward and bowed. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. May She Who Heals ease his suffering."
"It will be as She wills it."
He turned to Lord Soren's body and knelt in the circle of light, his hair all but glowing.
Sean rolled his eyes, still seated in the chair.
"Are you sure you don't want to rest?" I asked him.
He leaned over, stole a crocheted blanket off the loveseat's back, and spread it over himself. "See? Perfectly comfortable."
"Good night."
"Good night."
I went upstairs. I had an wounded vampire knight, a Marshal of a vampire House praying over him, and an unstable werewolf watching over them in case either of them tried something funny. If only Dad and Mom were here, it would feel just like home.