Sweep of the Blade

Maud caught her and hugged her, hoping with everything she had that this was real, and her daughter wouldn’t disappear out of her arms, fading back into the hospital bed.

“Full recovery,” the medic said. “I uploaded a monitoring routine to her harbinger and synced it to you. If she takes a turn for the worse, which I do not anticipate, her unit will flash with yellow and you will get a warning. Should this occur, I want to see her immediately.”

“Understood.” Maud kissed Helen’s forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of her daughter’s hair. It will be okay, she’s okay, everything is fine, she’s alive, she’s not dying… “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” the medic said. “I did very little. All I could do was keep her alive for a little longer. Eventually she would have slipped away. Are you going to speak with the lees?”

“Yes.” She was still clutching Helen tightly to herself, unwilling to let go.

“I want the recipe for that antidote.”

“I will try, but the lees hoard their secrets like treasure. They will only trade, for something of equal or greater value.”

The medic pondered the wall for a moment and tapped his unit. A round ceramic tower slid out of the floor and opened, revealing a core lit from within by a peach-colored glow and rows of tubes, vials, and ampoules arranged in rings around it. The contents of the tower glittered like jewels, some filled with amber liquid, others containing glowing mists or small dazzling gems in a rainbow of colors. It was oddly elegant and beautiful, the way vampire technology often was. The medic plucked a twisted vial filled with green mist and held it out to her.

“A gesture of good faith.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a biological weapon we developed during the Nexus conflict. It renders the lees infertile.”

He just pulled a species-ending toxin out of the shelf like it was nothing. And he had dozens more in there, of all different shapes and sizes. How many other species could they neuter with one of those shiny bottles? She’d just watched him reach into a Pandora’s box like he was grabbing a sandwich out of a picnic basket.

Her reaction must have shown on her face, because the medic shrugged. “It was never used. It was judged to be against the code of war. Also, it’s a poor weapon. It doesn’t kill the enemy. It’s something one might use in retaliation for being beaten, and we do not lose.”

“I need a carrying case for this,” she said.

“Why? The vial is unbreakable by normal means and is hermetically sealed.”

Maud smiled. “You don’t just hand someone a terrible evil without impressive packaging. We need a chest filled with velvet or a high-tech vault container with an elaborate code lock. Something that makes it seem important and forbidden.”

The medic’s eyes lit up. “I have just the thing.”

The meeting with the lees and the tachi was set in the Maven’s Gardens, located at the top of a small mesa that jutted next to the Marshal Tower. Consisting of a small stone plaza ringed by lush greenery, the gardens were at once a very private and completely exposed space, accessible only by a long, covered breezeway that curved around the tower from one of the bridges connecting it to the rest of the castle. The trees and shrubs hid the plaza from outside observers, and its location, on the very edge of a sheer drop, made outside surveillance impossible. However, the cameras and turrets, mounted on the walls of the tower directly above, had a perfect view of everything that transpired.

From inside the plaza, the gardens looked calm and inviting. Blue, turquoise, and pink blossoms rose from the flower patches beneath old trees. Here and there, plush furniture, some made for vampires, some made with other bodies in mind, offered comfortable places to sit and reflect.

In the center of the plaza rose a ten-foot-tall replica of the neighboring mesa. Water cascaded from the top of the mountain into a basin made to resemble a lake, complete with a narrow sandy beach and foot-tall trees. The soothing sound of the waterfall added another sound screen to the dampeners placed along the perimeter of the gardens.

Helen splashed through the shallow edge of the lake, waving her arms like a giant about to take on a mountain. If there was an inch of water available, her daughter would be in it, Maud reflected. None of this seemed real. Only a few hours ago, Helen was dying, and now she looked like she’d never even been poisoned. Things were moving too fast and she kept trying to get a grip.

Maud fought the urge to shift in her seat, aware of Otubar looming to her left. She still had no legal status, and for negotiations to succeed, she needed to borrow some authority. She would’ve preferred Arland as a backup for this meeting, but he was sleeping off his booster, and she had to admit Otubar had authority in spades. The Lord Consort projected quiet menace. Emphasis on the quiet. He didn’t speak, he made no small talk, he asked no questions. He just towered like some legendary bastion of vampire might ready to pummel any offenders into bloody mush.

She couldn’t screw this up.

The lees and the tachi arrived at the same time, each delegation led by a vampire knight through the side tunnel. Nuan Cee wore his usual silk apron, the kind Maud saw him wear at his shop, and a necklace of white and blue shells that matched his silver-blue fur. It wasn’t the bejeweled ensemble he donned for important meetings. The two lees behind him bounced up and down as they walked, looking like two fluffy, excited kits.

The tachi queen strode next to the Merchant, elegant and seemingly weightless despite her size. Her exoskeleton was a cheery, beautiful azure, like the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Maud had expected a neutral gray. A pleasant surprise. The two tachi following the queen exhibited color as well, one deep lavender, the other a familiar green. Ke’Lek.

Good. The tachi are in a receptive mood.

Maud rose and bowed. “Lady of sun and air. Great Merchant. Welcome.”

Nuan Cee waved his paw-hands magnanimously. “No need, no need. We are all friends here.”

Dil’ki bobbed her head. “I am relieved to see you well, Maud of the Innkeepers. And your child.”

“Please,” Maud murmured and pointed to a table with four chairs. Two were the typical vampire seats, large, solid, with simple but functional lines. The third chair, to Maud’s right, was a divan, piled high with soft pillows. The fourth chair, on Maud’s left, looked like a mushroom with a plush, padded cap and round protrusions to the back and sides. It had taken Maud a good half hour of drawing and explaining to convince House Krahr’s fabricator supervisor to manufacture one. She still wasn’t sure if the proportion of the stem to cap was off by an inch or two, but it looked right and it was the best she could do.

The queen saw the chair. Maud held her breath.

A flash of deeper color rolled over the royal and she perched on the chair, locking her vestigial appendages on the protrusions. Nuan Cee sprawled on the divan like a Roman patrician.

The tachi bodyguards split up. Ke’Lek remained behind the queen, while the other tachi headed to the fountain. The Nuan Cee’s relatives followed the tachi to where Helen was splashing. The significance wasn’t lost on Maud. If anything happened to either Nuan Cee or the tachi queen, Helen would be a primary target. The thought should have disturbed her, but she took it with easy calm. Either too much has happened, and I am now inoculated, or I’ve gotten used to high-stakes negotiations.

A vampire retainer delivered pitchers of green wine and red spiced juice along with platters of baked snacks and artfully arranged fruit and vegetable slices, and withdrew. It felt like an odd tea party. Here she was serving cosmic cookies and wine to a queen of enlightened predators and the head of a clan of ruthless assassins. Nothing much at stake except an interstellar alliance. Whee!

Maud sipped some juice. This would have to be done very carefully. If she offered either of them a finger, they would bite her entire arm off. No time like the present.

“Have you rested from the interstellar travel?” she asked. “I always find being planetside to be a relief.” Not the best opening, considering they had both been on the planet for the last two weeks, but it would do.

The tachi queen glanced at her. “This planet is rather beautiful.”

“I do so enjoy being planetside,” Nuan Cee said. “However, as regrettable as it is, one must commit to the unpleasantness of space travel to pursue one’s goals.”

So far, so good. “I do wonder how space merchant marines do it. Long voyages, expensive cargo, and I hear there are pirates in certain quadrants.”

Nuan Cee’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes. One does have to make sacrifices in the name of profit.”

“Or scientific achievement.” The tachi queen speared a cookie with a long talon. “The quest for knowledge cannot proceed without the fuel of labor.”

“It always rankles when opportunistic beings attempt to cash in on the labor of others.” Maud studied the contents of her glass. “Some of them go so far as to plan to invade their hosts’ strongholds and claim them for their own.”

“It is both unfair and predatory,” Dil’ki said. “Should we witness such an act, of course, we would be obliged to intervene.”

“Indeed,” Nuan Cee said. “But then there are personal costs to consider. Such assistance often results in tragedy for those who offer it.”