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Playing God(42)

By:Sarah Zettel


Now they had reached country she had only a passing familiarity with and jounced along in silence. Praeis shifted her weight. Her back and buttocks were certainly going to be glad when they got to Neys and Silv's home. She had spent the last several miles having second thoughts about the wisdom of not commandeering a private transport. As the Queens’ representative, she could have, even with the plague-inspired restrictions on private travel between cities.

But a government car would have required she take government drivers as well. Considering that there was an excellent chance any drivers from the Home would be near family to someone on the Council of True Blood and would report back everything Praeis did and said, she had decided not to use that particular privilege.

It had been difficult to keep her reasons to herself while dealing with Senejess and Armetrethe this morning.

“Sister, you cannot mean to leave so soon, and without one of us to go with you,” fumed Senejess as she stood with Armetrethe and Praeis in their home's gateway watching their luggage being loaded onto the bus.

Praeis shrugged, keeping one eye and ear focused on the driver as the luggage was strapped onto the roof. “I have my assignment from the Queens-of-All, Senejess. They made it possible for me to return. I can't appear ungrateful, or disobedient.”

At the last word, the skin over Senejess's shoulders rippled. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You could purchase a car for your work, or rent one from the Council.”

Praeis shrugged and looked over her head, ostensibly searching the yard for her daughters. “I told you, I have no budget yet. I don't want to start running up bills before I know how much money I'm going to have.” Praeis lowered her gaze to look into her sisters’ eyes. She saw very plainly that neither one of them believed her. The knowledge constricted her heart. She lifted her voice. “Resaime! Theiareth! Daughters mine, it is time to leave!”

Her daughters separated themselves from their cousins in the yard and came running. “We will be back in a few days, Sisters,” Praeis made herself say, as Res and Theia reached her side. “When I have set my work in motion, we will be able to talk together and decide how it will be next with us.”

Armetrethe and Senejess looked at each other. Each reached out a hand to her without any of the tension easing from their ears or their skin. Praeis grasped their hands and tried to pretend this was a true embrace.

A murmur drifted through the gabble of conversation and pulled Praeis out of her reverie. All her neighbors’ attention was focused on the way ahead. She craned her neck to see out of the front of the bus. A quartet of arms-sisters stepped out into the road and waved the bus to a halt. Praeis felt a startlingly familiar mixture of frustration and impatience, and fear. What do they want now? Will they just get this over with? Ancestors Mine, what if they want me?

The driver, who had probably done this a thousand times, slowed the bus to a stop, got out her manifest pad and ID papers, and opened the door. Two of the four passenger escorts followed her to stand outside the vehicle and exchange papers, hand-waving, and half-heard mumbles with the quartet of arms-sisters.

Theiareth shifted and leaned closer to Praeis. Resaime stretched her arm across her mother's shoulders until she touched Theia.

Praeis opened her mouth to say, “Just a formality, my Daughters,” when two of the arms-sisters climbed into the bus. Now Praeis could see they were near family, grey enough to be t'Aia rather than t'Theria. The one with the prime-sister marks on her armored vest swept her cold gaze across the passengers.

“T'Ciereth!” she announced, naming a people that used to be near family but now were outlaws for spying against the t'Theria in War 1302.2.

“Not on my bus,” insisted one of the remaining escorts. “All my passengers have been checked and cleared. You've got bad information.”

The second arms-sister, who ranked third-sister, shifted her grip on her weapon.

“You've got bad security.” The prime-sister strode to a bench occupied by four small, blue-grey-skinned, near family. “Here, here, here, here!” She stabbed a knobbly finger at each of them. “T'Ciereth.”

Praeis wrapped her arms tightly around Resaime and Theiareth. Both sat like blocks of wood, ears erect and eyes wide, watching the spectacle a few feet away.

“Escort!” blurted out the tallest of the near family. “We are t'Theria.” She waved a sheaf of papers at the arms-sisters. “Check! Check all you want.”

“Anyone here willing to claim these four as family?” Prime-Sister's eyes swept the bus again.

“Mother…” murmured Resaime.

Praeis fixed her gaze on the arms-sisters and their guns. “If anything happens, get down on the floor,” she whispered. She stood up.