Kavi been so slow to react? Or had Mae just been that fast? No, the more she thought about it, the more Mae was certain there had been nothing out of the ordinary about the way she’d fought. Yes, she’d been more emotional than usual, but that shouldn’t have affected anything. Even the rush of that dark power couldn’t create that kind of disparity.
Why had Kavi been so slow?
Mae had no answer by the time the MPs came to take her away again. They escorted her to a conference room, where she found General Gan sitting at the end of a long table. He wore the regular military’s uniform now, all gray, save for the jacket’s upper half, which was maroon. It was bedecked with the medals of his rank and a black stripe on the collar that showed he’d once been a prætorian. More silver laced his dark hair than when she’d first met him years ago, but the constant intensity and purpose in his eyes never changed.
Mae’s stomach sank further. She’d hoped someone else would be there to chastise her, maybe one of his many underlings. It wasn’t his rank she feared so much as the thought of disappointing him. He gave a small nod to the MPs, and they left, shutting the door behind them. Silence fell in the long room.
“Sit,” said Gan at last. He pointed to a chair about halfway down the table. Mae obeyed.
“So. I hear there was an incident today.” Gan was a master of understatement.
Mae stared straight ahead. She had never shirked responsibility and wasn’t about to now. “I was out of line, sir. I will gladly accept any punishment you see fit to give me.” Suspension, she thought bleakly. They’ll suspend me for sure, unless they just kick me out altogether.
He shrugged. “It was a rough day. It’s understandable that emotions would run high, especially in the wake of losing a friend.”
Gan knew perfectly well that Porfirio had been more than a friend, and his sympathy bothered Mae as much as Val and Dag’s. She would’ve preferred to be yelled at and told how completely disgraceful and inappropriate her actions were—because they had been. She decided to remind him of this, because obviously, his fondness was clouding his judgment.
“What I did was unacceptable, sir. Unforgivable.”
That brought a small smile to the general’s mouth, thought it didn’t soften the lines of his face. “I’ve seen worse, and half your cohort’s been in to tell me about how wronged you were. Valeria Jardin and Linus Dagsson have made particular nuisances of themselves.” Yes, they most certainly would. “That doesn’t mean we can ignore what happened, of course. The incident will be noted in your record, and you’ll be suspended from regular duty.”
Suspended from regular duty. She’d expected it, but it was still tough to swallow.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be locked away or confined to a desk.” He snorted. “I can’t imagine giving one of you a desk job. I can’t even imagine one of you sitting still for very long. Prætorians are too valuable to waste, and I have a task for you.”
“I’ll do anything you require of me, sir.”
He drummed his fingers against the table, momentarily lost in thought. “It’s a strange errand, but a necessary one—one that unexpectedly just came up and may be a good opportunity for you to…adjust to recent events. We wouldn’t ask it of you if it wasn’t important, of course.”
“Of course, sir.” His use of “task” and “errand” didn’t reassure her any, but Mae still hoped she might be sent to some volatile location. It’d be no more than she deserved, and maybe in glorious battle, she’d redeem herself.
“I need you to go to Panama City. Have you ever been there?”
It took Mae a few moments to answer. Panama City? There’d be no glorious battle there. The RUNA had no conflict with that region. In fact, she’d heard there were tentative trading negotiations in the works. Panama was still provincial, of course, filled with unchecked
Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath