“By what right?” The question came from the vampire side. I had ratcheted the pressure to the limit. All of them were already on edge. If I weren’t careful, they would erupt.

“By the right of the Treaty your governments signed. Those who attack guests within an inn lose all protections of their homeland. Your status, your wealth, and your position do not matter. You are in my domain. Here I alone am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.”

I turned, my robe moving lightly along the floor, and began to circle the tea kettle. A projection spilled out of the ceiling: me sitting on the divan, Dagorkun serving the tea, Caldenia picking up her cup.

“One of you made an effort to move through the inn unseen. One of you employed a device that hid his or her image.”

The tension was thick, I kept waiting for it to crack like a thunderclap.

“This device was stolen and duplicated. The original was returned to its owner. The duplicate was used to poison the tea in this kettle.”

The ruby-red tea shone once, responding to the light.

“Who?” Arland demanded. “Who brought the device?”

“I did,” Nuan Cee said.

“You!” the Khanum snarled.

The darkness flared behind me like a hungry beast ready to devour. They fell silent.

“There are only three motives for murder. Sex. Revenge.” I paused. “And greed.”

A contract appeared on the projection, huge, almost nine feet tall, hanging like a banner from the ceiling. On it odd symbols lined up into words next to an image of Caldenia.

“Less than a day after the location of this peace summit became known, this contract went off the market,” I said. “Someone had taken the job.”

The symbols mutated into general galactic script, showing a number large enough to buy a small planet. Jack whistled in the back.

“Cai Pa?” Caldenia blinked. “You mean to tell me this comes from that sniveling worm of a magnate who decorated his palace with jewel-eyed portraits of his horrid family? After two decades, he still wants me dead over a casual remark?”

“Yes.”

Caldenia put her hand over her chest, her gloved fingertips barely touching her skin, leaned back, and laughed. It was a rich throaty laugh, showing off the forest of triangular sharp teeth inside her mouth.

Everyone stared.

“After all these years, I’ve still got it.” She chuckled. “Delightful.”

“The question is, why poison the entire kettle?” I said. “Three people would have drunk from it and all three would have died. The consequences for all factions involved would’ve been dire.”

I paced back, passing my hand above the kettle. It pulsed with a bright spark in response.

“An experienced assassin would’ve selected the time and place of his strike carefully. An experienced assassin would’ve weighed the risks and realized that such a crime wouldn’t go undiscovered or unpunished. The esteemed Nuan Cee is an experienced assassin, cunning, smart, and disciplined. He wouldn’t have taken that risk.”

I turned back. The motion of my walking was enough to keep my robe shifting, as if stirred by some mystical power, and I needed as much impact as I could get.

“No, this assassin was someone who hadn’t had a lot of practice. Someone inexperienced. Someone young. Someone desperate and easily tempted.”

Nuan Cee’s lips trembled baring a hint of his teeth. He just put it all together.

“Tell us, esteemed Merchant, what is the unspoken custom of your clan when a bright member of your family is about to reach adulthood?”

“The clan takes measures to make sure that the young one stays bound to the family for a while longer,” Nuan Cee said through clenched teeth. “It is done to preserve the family’s wealth.”

“Just like you have done with Cookie?”

The projection showed a close up of the emerald vanishing into thin air.

Cookie gasped.

“Yes,” Nuan Cee said.

“You arrange for a child approaching adulthood to make a mistake, a mistake that puts them in debt to the clan, which they then have to repay?” I had to really break it down so everyone got it.

“Yes.”

“And how many years of service does Nuan Sama owe you?”

The Nuan Clan parted as every member simultaneously stepped aside. Nuan Cee’s niece stood alone in the circle of her family members.

“Nuan Sama had made some additional mistakes,” Nuan Cee ground out. “Her debt to the clan is substantial.”

“It wasn’t me,” Nuan Sama smiled. “Why would I do such a foolish thing? I love my clan. I have no desire to leave.”

Wow. That was some serious chutzpah.

“When Hardwir repaired the vehicle with the molecular synthesizer, you were asked to assist him. You’re an expert in age sequencing.” I turned to the vampires. “What did Nuan Sama suggest before we began the repairs?”

“She said that we should try it on a complex piece of equipment to make sure the results were optimal,” Hardwir answered. I had already talked to him about it before the gathering.

“Did she provide such a piece of equipment?”

“Yes.”

“The esteemed engineer misunderstood” Nuan Sama said. “I brought him a part from our ship.”

“You brought me an image disruptor,” Hardwir said. “We duplicated it and then you took both of them away.”

“It is his word against mine,” Nuan Sama said.

“There were only three people besides the otrokari who knew the Khanum had invited me to her tea,” I continued. “Me, Her Grace whom I called directly after I received the invitation, and you.”

“The honored innkeeper has no way of knowing I was the only one,” Nuan Sama said. “After all, the honored innkeeper couldn’t even tell if her tea was poisoned.”

Nice. “When you dropped the poison into the kettle, you felt a puff of wind. Did you not wonder what that puff might have been?”

Nuan Sama shook her furry head, the many silver hoops gently clinking against each other. “I was never there.”

“That puff was a dye,” I said. “The inn had marked you. Shall we see if your fur is stained?”

A lamp sprouted from the ceiling. She didn’t wait for the light. Nuan Sama leapt straight up, flipping in the air as she tried to clear the crowd of her clansmen. A furry blur shot toward her. They collided in mid-air and landed back in the circle of the clansmen, her uncle next to her.