Clean Sweep(53)

Oh no. "Can the House crest be duplicated?" I asked.

"No. It's genetically coded to each ranking member of the House and it evolves with the deeds of the bearer. It's a communication unit, an emergency power supply, and many other things. A vampire would never part with..."

Caldenia smiled at her tea.

Arland fell silent. "I'm an idiot."

"The dahaka has a House crest," Sean guessed.

"That's the only way he could have passed through the House air defenses. We thought he was smuggled in, but we couldn't find any record of a ship returning or taking off in the specific window of the murder. Of course, if he had a crest, we wouldn't know. The transmissions from House crests work like a key: they unlock the safe passage, but there is no record of which ones are activated when."

"Seems like a security oversight," Sean said.

"We don't like to be tracked. If the dahaka has a crest, he could've dropped into the wilderness, walked out, killed my aunt, and taken off again."

Muscles flexed along Arland's frame. He looked like a cat about to pounce. His eyes shone with red. "To sink so low as to let an outsider have possession of your crest. It is akin to a violation of the House. Whoever did it had to be desperate."

"That's right," Caldenia said. "You are finally thinking in the right direction."

"He still has it," Arland snarled. "He still has the crest or he couldn't have left the planet."

"If you get ahold of it, would you know who it belongs to?" Sean asked.

"Yes."

Arland flashed his fangs and I felt an urge to move back. Beast snarled under my chair. There it was, the real vampire. An unstoppable, furious killer. That's what made them so good at war. If they didn't fight between themselves so much, they could've conquered their corner of the galaxy a long time ago.

"On Earth when we hire contractors, we pay them half up front," I said. "And half later, when the job is done."

"We have the same practice," Arland said.

"So if he still has the House crest...," I began.

"He's waiting for the owner to come and pick it up," Sean said. "The crest is his insurance. He trades it for the rest of the money and departs. That's why he's hanging around here. He can't go home because the vampires won't follow him there and he wants his money."

"And he can't stay in the Holy Anocracy, because any dahaka sighted would be instantly detained," Arland said. "Whose crest does he have, that is the question. Is it Gron or is it Krahr?"

Caldenia leaned forward, her face suddenly sharp. "Think. Think about your uncle."

Arland's eyes narrowed. "The dahaka wanted to kill him. Why...? It couldn't be a kill of conquest. The dahaka had already bested my uncle and had nothing to prove. It couldn't be a trophy hunt, because being an assassin requires discipline beyond collecting trophies and nothing was taken from my aunt's body. The dahaka kills for money."

The pieces clicked in my head. I glanced at Caldenia. "Bonus."

She nodded.

Arland paced. "The dahaka would be paid extra for my uncle. Soren was a specific target. If a third party wanted to drive a wedge between Krahr and Gron, they had already succeeded. Why pay extra for my uncle? For the same reason, if Gron was responsible for the murder, killing Soren makes no sense. He is pro-Gron and he stands firmly with me and the leadership of the House, but he isn't the main policy maker. If someone from Gron wanted Soren eliminated for personal reasons, they would've challenged him directly. There is no honor in assassination."

Arland stared into space. I could almost feel his brain straining.

"If Soren is removed, his assets and control of his troops pass to Renadra. She's young and doesn't have the seniority, so under normal circumstances she would likely support whatever decision the leadership of the House makes, but she also adores her father, so if he were killed and Gron were blamed, she would seek retribution. Her maternal grandmother is the Blood Archimandrite of the Crimson Abbey. Before the war between Gron and Krahr could begin, the Pact has to be broken. It takes a dispensation from a high knight of the church to dissolve a Pact of Brotherhood. Renadra's grandmother would qualify. Renadra is the only female grandchild she has and she is very fond of her. She would grant her this favor. The Archimandrite would bless this war."

"Would Gron know this?" Sean asked.

"No." Arland's voice was quiet and vicious. "They wouldn't."

"You know who it is," Caldenia said, her voice confidential, persuasive. "You've avoided the answer because it's painful to contemplate. The person is a relative, a friend. But you've seen the signs, the small things, the whispers of discontent, the wrong expression on someone's face. Let it come to you. You can't prove it, but this isn't about proving it, it's about knowing it."