He had no face.

Darkness filled the hood, an impenetrable, ink-black darkness that hovered there like a living thing. It was as if the creature himself had no muscle or bone, but was formed from jet-black cosmos and held together by his armor alone.

Everyone froze.

“Turan Adin,” Lord Robart whispered to my right.

A torturous moment of silence stretched.

“Of for the love of all holy,” Lord Beneger roared. “He is but one man! You sniveling cowards, I’ll do it myself!”

He leapt over the table, as if he weighed nothing. Turan Adin halted, waiting.

Oh no, I don’t think so. The walls of the inn erupted with its smooth roots.

“No!” George barked at me. “Let it happen!”

Damn it, I was getting sick of being yelled at in my own inn.

Beneger’s two knights charged after him. The huge vampire lord got there first. His blood axe whined, primed, and came down in a devastating blow, so fast, I barely saw it. Turan Adin sidestepped. It shouldn’t have been possible but somehow he dodged the axe that should’ve annihilated him and struck out with his right hand. His claws punched straight through the reinforced neck collar of Lord Beneger’s ornate armor. The vampire lord froze, all of his powerful kinetic momentum checked, broken on the slimmer form of Turan Adin like the rage of an ocean shattering on a wave breaker. A faint gurgle broke free of the huge vampire’s mouth. Turan Adin tore his hand free, a clump of Lord Beneger’s esophagus and flesh caught in his claws, opened his hand, and let the bloody chunk fall to the floor. The vampire lord took a step forward and collapsed onto the floor, face down. Blood spread on the mosaic image of Gertrude Hunt.

With a vicious roar, the two remaining vampires of House Meer fell onto Turan Adin. He danced between them, as if he were vapor. A short black blade appeared in his hand. He hammered it into the back of the left vampire’s head, right where the neck joined the skull, let go, spun around his victim to avoid the other knight’s blow, pulled the blade free as the injured vampire crumbled to his knees, and sank it into the remaining vampire’s left side, slicing through the armor between the ribs and up.

Ruah, the otrokari swordsman, jumped onto the table and dashed along it toward Turan Adin. Sophie sprinted across the floor toward him, her gown split apart on one side as the secret seam had come open. The swordsman saw her. His eyes narrowed. He changed the angle of his charge, running straight for her. His blade flashed with orange and Ruah shot past Sophie, his sword a blur, and halted five steps behind her. If Sophie had moved, I missed it.

Ruah took another step. The top half of him slid off and landed on the floor.

The banquet hall erupted as the vampires and otrokari charged at each other. The Nuan clansmen pulled out razor sharp daggers and formed a protective circle around the grandmother.

I tapped my broom to the floor.

Suddenly the grand ballroom was calm and quiet. Everyone who had managed to jump over their table and land had sunken into the floor up to their noses. Everyone who had been in mid-air was stuck to the wall, held there by inn’s roots. Only the leaders, Turan Adin, and Sophie remained standing.

“This is good,” I said. “I like this. Nice and quiet.” I turned to George. “Tell me no again and you will join them.”

It took me twenty minutes to sort the guests into their respective quarters and confine them there until everyone calmed down. That left me with leaders and corpses.

I turned to the Khanum first and pointed at Ruah’s pieces. “You’ve spat on my hospitality,” I said quietly. She could’ve ordered Ruah to stop and didn’t.

The Khanum’s face took on a dark red tint, as blood rushed to her skin.

“Under normal circumstances I would force you to leave this house, but I’m bound by my agreement with the Office of Arbitration.”

“Think of a boon,” the Khanum said. “We will atone.”

“I will,” I promised her and turned to Robart. “Are you satisfied?”

He drew back. “I didn’t…”

“You invited them here. They came like bandits, without their standard, without declaring the honor of their House. They came with one purpose: to do violence and cripple the negotiations beyond repair. You knew this and you did nothing to stop them.”

Robart winced.

“Now four people are dead. Elderly and children have been put in danger.”

Robart took a step back. I was so angry, my voice cut like a knife. I should’ve stopped – this was beyond the limit of my duties, but I was furious.

“Congratulations. You did it. You let House Meer pull your strings like a puppet. Now your people will keep dying on Nexus, while House Meer attacks House Krahr. Every vampire who is killed there, every spouse who weeps alone, every child who is robbed of their parent, all of that is on your soul. Enjoy.”

Robart opened his mouth.

“We will make amends,” Lady Isur promised.

I ignored her. I was going to let everyone have a piece of my mind. “Mr. Camarine.”

George snapped into a coldly regal stance. A few days ago I would’ve cared. Right now, not so much.

“People died in my inn because you stopped me. The reputation of Gertrude Hunt is irrevocably damaged.”

George opened his mouth.

“Guests are dead on the floor!” I snapped. “In my inn! Everything I worked for, everything I stand for, is ruined. No amount of money will make this right. My professional integrity is compromised. I allowed this to happen because you wanted to play games.”

George opened his mouth.

“Do not speak to me,” I told him. “You may be the Arbiter, but I am still the Innkeeper.”

I pivoted to the shaman and the Battle Chaplain. “You will conduct the rights to appease the spirits of the fallen and to shepherd their souls into the afterlife. Cleanse this main hall of the stain of their deaths. Then you will take the bodies of your dead. Bury them, set them on fire, deliver them to their families, do whatever it is that must be done. You have tonight.”

The shaman and the battle chaplain looked at each other.

“At the same time?” Odalon asked.

“Yes. No special provisions will be made. I’m done tiptoeing around your customs. I have honored your people’s wishes and they spat in my face. Deal with it.”

I turned to Turan Adin. “My apologies for the poor reception. Please follow me. I have quarters prepared for you.”