Playing God(47)
Praeis dipped her ears. “I hear you, Arms-Sisters, and you have my agreement. I need to know who else shares this view. I need a staff I can trust, and whom I can send out in my name with directives that might not stand the light of day. Is there anybody like that left?”
Neys and Silv exchanged thoughtful glances. “Keeia, Ini, Oma Iat,” said Neys.
“Uait and Rai Baeit,” added Silv.
“And Ureth Tai.”
“Yes, and Ureth Tai,” Silv dipped her ears in approval.
“And they will know more. We can contact them all tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Praeis asked before she could stop herself. “Sisters, we have less than two weeks to change the Council's mind. They can ruin everything by simply refusing to move!”
“Tomorrow,” repeated Neys firmly.
“Because today, Mother,” said Res, “you need rest and to have your wounds looked after.”
Praeis stared down at her daughters in disbelief. They sat rigid in their unity. At last, she threw back her head and laughed. “I give in! I give in!” She waved both her hands over her head. “I am surrounded by mutineers.”
“At last, she understands.” Silv caught Praeis's shoulder and shook it. “And for our first act of mutiny, we're calling in the care-takers.”
After that, it was reminiscence and good food. Silv made good her threat and called for a trio of care-takers. Praeis's aching arm was numbed and stitched up tightly. She'd tried to shoo her daughters into the yard, but they refused to leave. They stayed near her all afternoon, seldom straying out of reach of each other or her until the sleeping mats were unrolled.
As her daughters fell asleep, Praeis lay on the edge of the mat listening to their breathing and trying to understand what they must be feeling. This was all so new to them—the random, incomprehensible attacks, the constant readiness. She had grown up like this. It was nothing. She had nourished her soul-hate of the ’Esaph, contempt for the t'Ciereth, fear of the Porath, for years. She'd breathed it. She'd swum in it.
But her daughters had known them as friends and schoolmates. They'd known peace. How would she explain this to them? How would she comfort them?
And that's not all you're going to have to explain to them, is it? inquired a voice in the back of her mind. Praeis squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will the voice away, but it would not go.
One inch at a time, Praeis slid off the mat. She stood and silently picked her way across the room to a patch of moonlight mat filtered through the slit window. With trembling hands, she unfastened her belly guard and looked down at herself.
Her pouch had been flat for some time now. She'd gotten used to that. She wasn't young anymore. Sometime in the last few days, though, it had shriveled. Unsupported, it hung in wrinkled folds almost halfway down her thighs. She tried to tighten her muscles. The folds spasmed a little in response.
She swallowed hard. Her ears and skin trembled. She sat on the floor and cautiously reached between her legs, and found where all the swelling had gone.
She closed her eyes. Ancestors Mine. Ancestors Mine. I accept this. I accept this because it is the natural way of life. I will pass on my soul willingly, but oh, why so fast?
“Mother?” Theia whispered. Cloth rustled behind her.
“No, daughter …” A shadow fell across the moonlit floor, and Praeis knew it was too late.
“Ancestors Mine!” Theia flung herself against Praeis's back and clung there like an infant. “No! No! You can't be!” She buried her face in the folds of Praeis's back. “You can't!”
Bodies stirred all across the room. Another shadow got to its feet. “Theia? What is it?” Res padded across to them.
Ancestors help me. Res saw her and gaped.
“Res, get my belly guard. Everything's good. We'll go outside. With me.” She stood up, holding on to Theia's arms, so Theia could dangle from her shoulders. As quickly as she could, she got outside. Res traded behind, holding her belly guard.
Fortunately, there was enough moonlight that she could lead them across the lawns away from the buildings.
“Res, give me my guard and help me with your sister.” She bent down and felt Res pry Theia's fingers apart, murmuring, “It's good, my Sister, come here to me, it's good.” Theia finally let go and collapsed into her sister's arms. She curled up as if seeking to bury herself in Res's pouch.
Praeis's hands trembled as she strapped her belly guard back on. She turned around.
Theia's fear had soaked into Res. Res bent over her sister, her back and shoulders rippling like a river in flood.
Praeis knelt and gathered them both in her arms. Their fear enveloped her. Her heart raced, and her skin quivered. She fought it down. She swallowed it, as she had swallowed their night terrors when they were little. But this went on far longer than those ever did.