Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(159)

“But she’s a gambler. And between the subsidy and job, she would’ve ended up making more. She could’ve gotten high more often. She should’ve liked that.”

“Too risky. Her life wasn’t ideal, but it was comfortable and familiar. If she’d gone to all that trouble to get me transferred too, and something went wrong—like I hated the school or she lost her job—it would’ve been a bitch to go through all the social-aid procedure again.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t it have been worth the risk that you might achieve greatness?”

“I’ll ignore the subtext there—that I obviously haven’t achieved greatness. But the point remains: Even though she liked to gamble, there were some risks Mom wouldn’t take, not when her comfort was on the line. She went with the sure thing.” Cynthia eyed him carefully. “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t really about Mom?”

“It’s about Tessa,” he said in a rare moment of transparency. “I’m trying to make a decision that’ll affect her future.”

It took Cynthia several moments to process that, and when she did, her face was full of incredulity. “Why did you even use the word ‘trying’? There’s nothing to decide. Just do what’s best for her.”

“Doing it involves a risk,” he said.

“Then you’d better decide how important her ‘greatness’ is to you.”

Justin pondered her words over dinner and said little to the others. When they got back home later, he went straight to his office and finally sent one of the reports off to Cornelia. As he did, he noticed he had an unread message from Lucian.





[page]Justin,



Word’s gotten around about the brilliant servitor and valiant pr?torian responsible for busting open the patrician murders. Don’t worry, I’ll let them keep thinking you’re a genius—because that’s the kind of friend I am. In return, a good friend like you should come to an upcoming fund-raiser the party’s having for me, and you should bring your valiant pr?torian. It’s black-tie, and I’ll make sure you’re seated with some of the prettier donors. No one will think twice about heroes coming to an event like that, even patrician ones. Think about it, and convince her too. I already asked her and haven’t heard anything back. It’s a pretty clever compromise, though, one that’ll finally give me the semblance of an evening out with her that won’t end up on the national news.



Whatever satisfaction Justin felt at learning Mae was ignoring Lucian was immediately killed when he got to “clever compromise.” The world came grinding to a halt, and Justin gripped the arms of his chair. Clever compromise. Those were the words Geraki had used in the Internal Security holding cell when he’d claimed the god he served had a message for Justin. Yield your stars and flowers and accept the clever compromise.

That was what this god wanted? For Justin to help set Mae up on a faux date with Lucian? It was ridiculous.

You promised Geraki you would, Horatio warned him. When he helped you find the Morrigan. You said you’d do what our boss asked.

That was before I knew what it was! No way am I going to help set Mae up with Lucian, even for something like this. He just wants her because he can’t have her. He knows nothing about her except that the pants she had on when they met made her ass look great.

I thought you weren’t interested in her, jabbed Horatio.

It’s not interest. I’m stating a fact. Why aren’t you chiming in, Magnus?

The other raven sounded forlorn. Because I don’t know what to do. We have to obey our god. But I don’t want to give her to him. I just can’t trust him.

But one thing that came out of this was Justin’s acceptance that he needed to do something very unwelcome and very unpleasant: talk to Geraki. This time, with no cameras and no pretenses from either of them. Justin had to go in with as much out in the open as he could. He called Geraki—who was irritatingly gleeful—and set up a meeting for the following day, just before Cornelia’s debriefing.

When Justin showed up at the designated restaurant, Geraki was already there, sitting at a dark corner table that seemed to have been designed for him.

“You can’t imagine how delighted I was by your call last night.” Geraki grinned as Justin took a chair. “Is it a breach of the restraining order if you seek me out?”

“Depends on what you do.” Justin brought up the menu screen and ordered bourbon. After a moment’s consideration, he made it a double.

“I miss that, you know,” said Geraki. “I used to love a good Pinot Noir.”

“I know a guy who makes some, but it’s not actually any good. Still, you could probably get a discount on it.”

Geraki nodded to the glass of water on the table. “I have to keep my body pure now, in order to hear my master’s voice.”

“Are we going to finally talk about your god? The one whose name no one will tell me?”

“We’re here to talk about anything you like. You’re the one who contacted me.”

Justin took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I finally figured out that message you gave me—about yielding my stars and flowers. I know what it means.”

“I don’t.” Geraki sipped his water with as much reverence as he’d give a fine wine. “It made no sense to me then or now. I just relayed the message. Are you going to fulfill its terms? You promised, you know. I helped you, and you gave your word to him.”