“Just you,” I told him.

He waved them off and they got back into the car.

I led him around the back, through the gate in the fence, to the table. He sat across from Adira. I took the chair between them.

There was a pitcher of iced tea on the table and three glasses. Adira drank from hers. Her uncle grabbed the pitcher and poured himself a glass.

An electric tension vibrated through me, not really nervousness, but anticipation. Something was going to happen.

“You look good,” Rudolph said. “You look like your mother.”

Adira drank some more of her tea.

“I tried to help her. I really did, but you know how she was.”

“My mother died five years ago. She suffered for a long time. I was there when she called you for help and you said no.”

Rudolph ‘s hands curled into fists. “I asked her for a simple thing. Just one thing, the only favor I ever asked. I would have given her everything for that.”

“Did you summon me here to alleviate your guilt?” Adira asked. “I can do no more than my mother could to grant your wish.”

Rudolph slapped a hand on the table and bared his teeth. “She didn’t want to. She was selfish her entire life.”

Adira waited, her expression placid. Some of the rage went out of Rudolph’s eyes.

“When you and my mother were sixteen, you went on a hike and somewhere on that mountain path you left Earth and entered Chatune. It opened to you, because it recognized the dormant power within you. You were meant for great things, but you squandered the gift Chatune offered, uncle. You schemed and plotted, trying to rise through the imperial ranks based not on scholarship, military art, or the cultivation of your inner power, but on trickery and deceit. You lied, misled, and betrayed.”

“I was at a disadvantage. I had no family, no connections, no backing. We came to that world with nothing except the clothes on our backs and two backpacks. I was trying to build a secure future for me and for your mother.” Rudolph tapped the table with his finger. “I got the raw end of that deal. I only had crumbs of your mother’s magic. She got the lion’s share and I had to make do with the leftovers.”

“My mother failed as well,” Adira said. “The Mountain reached out to her, trying to forge a connection. Mother understood what was required of her. The Mountain wanted a protector, and instead of answering that call, my mother rebuffed it. She flittered through the world like a butterfly without care. You wanted position and power, and she wanted attention and admiration…No, adoration is a better word. She played with people’s emotions like they were marbles, and when she recognized that there were consequences, she fled the world that had taken her in.”

“Exactly!” Rudolph leaned forward. “I’m so glad you understand. She chose to leave. She chose to come back here. But I was expelled when she left. I can’t go back on my own. I require your mother to open the door for me.”

“Why do you think that is?” Adira asked.

“Why does it matter? I worked for ten years to build something. I was an advisor. I had power, I had wealth, and she, that stupid bitch, took it all away from me. I begged her to go back. Begged. I had to start all over and on her deathbed, riddled with cancer, she still refused. She claimed she tried and couldn’t enter. And then she disappeared, and I knew she lied. She went back to Chatune and took you instead of me.”

“It matters because you still don’t understand.” Adira set her glass down. “My mother didn’t lie. She truly couldn’t return to Chatune, with you or without. Each of you on your own weren’t enough. The two of you were supposed to work together, but you failed, and Chatune didn’t want you or her anymore. My mother had to offer something to buy her passage. She offered me. For the sake of obtaining me, Chatune permitted her to tag along. My mother didn’t tell me what she was doing. She didn’t care about me or my life. She thought Chatune would cure her, but it let her rot, and I took care of her until she died, selfish to the end. Do you see, uncle? You hold no value to Chatune. It doesn’t want you.”

Rudolph recoiled.

“You talk about that damn planet like it has a soul.”

Adira laughed. It sounded bitter.

Rudolph’s face melted into an earnest expression. He probably had no idea how fake it looked. “You’re right. Your mother was selfish to the end. But you don’t have to be. The liege lord of the Green Mountain adopted you as his daughter. He shared his power with you. Take me back with you.”

She smiled. “Why?”

Rudolph leaned forward again. “You’re my niece. I’m the only family you have left. I was a powerful man before Chatune spat me out. Take me with you, and I’ll help you rise. I will take care of you.”

“You are a powerful man here, uncle. You have everything you could possibly want. Stay here.”

“Adira…”

“No.”

The final no landed like a brick between us. The silence stretched, oppressive.

“None of it matters.” Rudolph bared his teeth again, his face almost a grimace. “You have magic, so you don’t know what it’s like to lose it. You could share that world with me, but you won’t. You’re just like your mother, an egotistical, self-centered bitch. It doesn’t matter. I’ve done my part. I will get to Chatune without you.”

The far end of the grounds shimmered, as if hot air burst from the grass. Reality ceased to be, as if someone had sliced through our world with a knife, and beyond it a vast green valley spread. A warrior strode onto the grass. He was tall and clad in black armor embossed with gold. His face was inhumanly beautiful, his long white hair braided and pulled into a ponytail. He carried a sword that was five feet long and engraved with strange symbols.

It was like a scene from a movie. Magnificent and shocking.

The blast wave of the warrior’s magic tore across the lawn, snapping every blade of grass upright, and met my power. I swallowed it and dispersed it. So much magic…

“Liege Yastreb of the Onyx Sect.” Adira set her glass down. “You sold me out, uncle. You sent that message to lure me from the Mountain, to here, where I would be vulnerable.”

“You left me no choice,” he spat.

Behind the warrior other armored soldiers materialized like shadows coming into focus. So many soldiers…

“You’re wrong. There’s always a choice. You just didn’t like it.” Adira smiled. “When I received your message, I asked myself how a human could send a letter to Chatune. I asked myself what you could possibly want. The answer was obvious.”

Rudolph blanched. “You knew.”

“Of course. Yastreb approached you and promised you passage to Chatune for your betrayal. What’s about to happen isn’t about you. It’s about me making a statement to all those who think I require the Mountain to defend what is mine.” Adira rose. “Keep an eye on my uncle, innkeeper. Don’t let him come to any harm.”

Sean’s voice sounded in my ear. “Ready.”

I snapped the void field in place. The highest-level barrier available to an innkeeper, the void field stopped organic and inorganic projectiles and the transfer of energy. I had bubbled three acres; the warrior, his army, the inn, and the portal. The void field prevented any sound from passing through. Now it was just a matter of holding it.

We had discussed our strategy beforehand. Sean and I would defend the inn together.

Adira walked in front of the table.

Yastreb glared at her from across the lawn. His voice was like thunder. “Submit.”

Adira lifted her chin, her voice casual and light. “Not today.”

She raised her hands, fingers open, as if preparing to catch a basketball, and drew them apart, removing an invisible scabbard. A sword appeared in her right hand, a slender double-edged blade, a full four feet long. Silver fangs protruded from its guard, and its pommel was shaped like a snarling female lion.

Yastreb’s face jerked.

“Not the sword you were expecting?” Adira asked. “I don’t need the Heart of the Mountain for you. The Lion Fang will do just fine.”

The warrior’s black blade burst into blue fire. Magic tore out of him, sheathing him in a dense armor of power. His soldiers charged, streaming past him into two dark currents.

Adira’s inner power erupted. Magic punched me, sweeping my defenses aside. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, and for a second I thought I died. Her cloak tore and fell, shredded. She wore green armor that clung to her like a second skin. Red hungry fire bathed her blade.

Rudolph started to get up.

“Move and die,” I told him, my voice flat.

He sat back down.

Adira moved.

I had seen incredible swordsmen fight. During the peace summit, an arbitrator brought a genius swordswoman to my inn. Her name was Sophie and she killed with such beauty and precision that it transformed it into art. For her, the connection she felt with her opponent just before life became death meant everything.

For Adira it meant nothing. This wasn’t art; it was raw elemental force.

The soldiers rushed her, each a single storm of magic. She moved her sword, and they died, torn apart by her magic, like paper tigers burnt to ash. Magic hammered the void field, splashing against it. I grit my teeth. The entire barrage of the Draziri at their strongest didn’t have a third of this impact.