Playing God by Sarah Zettel Page A

breathed. “How many of us did the plague take?”
    Silv kept her eyes and ears pointed straight ahead. “Half.”
    “Half?”
The word choked Praeis.
    “So far,” added Silv grimly. “At least we've cleared the corpses from the canals.”
    Praeis's ears drooped until the tips brushed her shoulders. She felt her daughters’ hands on her arms, but felt no warmth. She had seen the deaths in the colonies, she had lost her sisters and four of her daughters, but to watch the sisters falling in their millions…
    Half so far. Oh, my Ancestors, how did we come to this?
    Silv took a hard left, and the frame car rattled and banged over a canal bridge. The buildings opened out to form the broad mall that fronted the moats and bridges surrounding the great wall of the Home of Queens.
    They were obviously expected. As their car approached, the main gate swung regally open, and Silv drove straight through into the ancient cobbled yard.
    “Neys, take them to the doors.” Silv braked next to one of the guard shacks. “I'll put the car away, stow the luggage, and bring the honor guard to meet you.”
    “As you say, Sister,” Neys agreed amiably. “Perhaps we should make sure they're checked in, first.”
    “Perhaps we should,” agreed Silv dryly. Neys waggled her ears and climbed out of the car. Praeis and her daughters followed.
    “She does believe in taking charge, doesn't she?” remarked Res softly, but not quite softly enough.
    “She always has,” Neys said slyly. “Has your mother told you about the time—”
    “Later, Neys,” said Praeis desperately. “As Silv rightly pointed out the Queens await.”
    Neys took them into the guard shack, where a pair of bored third-sisters searched them for weapons, recent scars, or signs of illness, and eventually wrote their names in a log as passed for entry. Res and Theia bore the entire process without complaint. Praeis had warned mem it would happen. What surprised her was how badly she squirmed while she watched her daughters poked and prodded by the guards.
    “Fine children,” said Neys as she led them across the yard. “Your only?”
    “I lost their sisters to the plague,” said Praeis. A sharp pain ran through her as she spoke the words.
    A flicker of sorrow crossed Neys's face. “We have all lost someone to sickness.”
    Neys lapsed into silence to cope with whatever memories she carried. Praeis took her daughters’ hands but didn't say anything. She kept her gaze on the Home of Queens. The crescent-shaped mansion spread its arms to embrace all the t'Aori peninsula. Like the city, though, the Home had fallen onto hard times. Of the three domes, only the central one still shone bright turquoise. The other two had been burned and blackened in some battle and never cleaned. Only three or four of the dozens of windows had lights in them.
    The sound of boots on cobbles cut across her thoughts. Silv arrived with the promised honor guard: four arms-sisters who looked vaguely harassed. Neys, Silv, and one other arms-sister formed up in front of them. Three other arms-sisters fell into step behind them.
    Praeis remembered the palace when it was blazing with tight. Ministers, Councilors, Noble Sisters, staffers, and petitioners streamed in and out of the rooms, stood in knots arguing and negotiating with one another, or brushed past single-mindedly on errands.
    Now it was a tomb. The gathering rooms echoed as they marched through. Shadows obscured vague shapes that Praeis remembered as elaborate statues and silken furniture, making her wonder what was really back there now.
    Up a shallow set of stairs, the obsidian doors to the main Debating Chamber stood open. Neys and Silv strode forward to the light.
    “Praeis Shin, Resaime Shin, Theiareth Shin, all Noblest Sisters t'Theria answer the summons of their Majestic Sisters, the Queens-of-All,” they announced in unison, then stood aside.
    “Our cue, daughters.” She squeezed Res's and Theia's hands. “When you address