With a sigh, Justin dragged his eyes away and stood up. “Wonderful,” he muttered. “I guess Geraki didn’t imagine it.”
He wandered off, leaving Mae puzzled as she clutched the necklace he’d given her. Putting it on seemed like an active admission of getting personally involved with the supernatural. But, as Justin had aptly pointed out, did she really want to advertise that she was one of the elect? When she’d asked him how Mama Orane hadn’t initially known he was an elect, he’d simply said that he “had ways to keep that under wraps.” Presumably, this was what he’d meant, and it had worked. Resolved, Mae waited until no one was watching and then slipped the necklace over her head and tucked the charm under her dress.
It wasn’t lost on her just how significant it was that Justin had actually made the charm himself. He’d told her the story of how, a long time ago, he’d been approached by a god who’d saved Justin’s life in the hopes of procuring his services and devotion. When Justin had related the tale, he’d made it sound as though he’d dodged any need to pay back the god . . . and yet, somewhere in the last few months, Mae had gotten the impression that something had changed. Justin wouldn’t talk about it when pressed, but this charm was a strong indication that—willingly or not—Justin was more involved with this god than he’d initially said. Mae could hardly fault him for keeping secrets, however, when she was sitting on her own knife-induced vision of the red velvet flag.
An hour before their landing, someone wisely put the champagne away, and the atmosphere grew more subdued. The Arcadians wouldn’t actually allow the plane to fly into their airspace, so Mae’s party was landing at a base on the Gemman side of the border. They would cross by land (and water, since there was a river along the border) and then be taken to the Arcadian capital, Divinia. Mae felt herself growing tenser as they neared their destination, and a glance at her fellow praetorians told her that they too were on edge as their implants warmed to the potential danger.
They received an enthusiastic welcome at the Gemman base, and Lucian paused for smiles and a brief talk with the soldiers there. After all, they were all potential voters who could influence their home senators to vote for him in the consular election. The soldiers seemed thrilled at the attention he gave them, but Mae was pleased to see them snap into business mode when it came time to escort her party to the border. Even with the water barrier, this was a dangerous post, and these soldiers had undoubtedly learned caution.
They took a military craft across the river, where a complementary Arcadian base awaited them—complete with a contingent of green- coated soldiers openly holding guns. Not counting the undercover women or base escort, Mae’s party had fifteen soldiers, most of which were praetorians wearing the regular gray and maroon military uniform. The Arcadian “welcoming party” had more than four times that.
“Senator Darling.” A large uniformed man stepped forward from the throng, once the Gemman party was on Arcadian soil. His jacket was bedecked with medals and marks of rank that identified him as a general. “Welcome to Arcadia.”
If Lucian felt any nervousness at the situation he was walking into, he didn’t let it show. “You must be General McGraw. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He strode forward confidently and extended his hand, which the general shook without hesitation. Unless Mae was mistaken, there was a collective sigh of relief from both sides. So far, so good.
“Well,” said McGraw, “the real pleasure won’t begin until you’re in Divinia. I’m here to dispense with some necessary evils, which I’m sure you can understand.”
“Absolutely,” said Lucian. “Let’s do what needs to be done.”
The “necessary evils” referred to a series of identity and security checks of every person and his or her luggage. The Arcadians had received advanced notice of the names of those coming in the delegation and first ascertained that everyone matched their dossiers. Mae’s picture and name were accurate, but she’d been given a fabricated bio to hide her true profession. According to the records the Arcadians had, she was a professional pianist. In Mae’s eyes, that was a generous estimate of her musical abilities, but she could understand that her people would fabricate a background with some connection to reality, and she had studied music in her tertiaries.
The Arcadians merely glossed over the bios, however, and put their main effort into searching the Gemman military who were staying in the country. Atticus had explained that the Gemman soldiers could bring arms that they’d be allowed to carry at certain times—which he’d read as “never.” And as Mae watched the Gemmans turn over their weapons, she could understand why they’d chosen to bring out-of-date models. No one wanted to give the Arcadians a tactical edge by letting them study advanced weaponry while it was in their “safekeeping.” It made Mae a little uneasy to know their party was unarmed, but that was to be expected. Even with their weapons, their soldiers were outnumbered. It was up to her and the other praetorians, who were weapons in and of themselves, to handle defense if needed.
Once the soldiers were cleared, the Arcadians did a more thorough check of the Gemman diplomats and “concubines,” scanning them with both metal detectors and physical pat-downs. Mae had a moment of fear that they’d pick up her implant on their scanners, but, as she’d been assured in the RUNA, the implant was buried too deeply in her arm and contained a small enough amount of metal to slip by. Her knife, however, was a different matter.
“What’s this?” demanded the Arcadian soldier who pulled it from her boot. The Arcadians spoke English with an accent that drew the vowels out more than the Gemman dialect did.
“Mine,” she said, momentarily stunned.
“Why would a woman need a knife like this?” he demanded. “Actually,” said Justin, moving to her side. “It’s mine. I gave it to her.”
The soldier turned his incredulous gaze on Justin. “Same question. Why would a woman need a knife like this? This is a weapon.”
Mae felt her heart clench, and the implant spun her up into flight- or-flight mode. They’re going to seize it, she thought in a panic. It’s my only guide to my niece, and they’re going to take it from me.
Justin, however, remained remarkably calm. Derisive, even. “Why? For protection. Don’t think I didn’t see. You enjoyed that pat- down a little too much. I don’t want anyone coming near my woman if I’m not around. We haven’t even been here an hour, and you’re already leering over our women.”
Mae’s gut instinct was to chafe against “my woman,” but a wiser part of herself warned, Just stay still and be quiet. He’s getting you out of this.
And apparently he was. Mae hadn’t thought much of the pat-down, but the sudden crimson in the soldier’s face lent credence to Justin’s accusation. McGraw, having overheard the exchange, strode forward and took the knife from his soldier. “Here.” The general handed the knife to Justin. “You keep it, not her. Your women have nothing to fear while under our hospitality.” There was something in the tone of his voice that made Mae think that last statement was more for the Arcadians under his command than the Gemmans.
“Thank you,” said Justin, slipping the knife into his coat as though he did it on a regular basis. When the attention was off them, Mae gave him a small nod of thanks that he returned in kind. The dagger was still accessible to her, at least.
When all the security checks were done to McGraw’s satisfaction, the soldiers from the base departed, and Mae’s party was truly on its own. She and the others were escorted onto a large, armored bus with narrow windows that reminded her of something used to transport prisoners. It had enough room for all of the Gemmans, as well as several armed Arcadian soldiers. McGraw came on board to see them off but wasn’t riding with them.