Shatter the Earth (Cassandra Palmer 10)

She moved the tray to one hip, because even empty it was heavy. I tried to take it from her, but got my hand smacked for my trouble. “I didn’t come here to be chief cook and bottle washer, all right?” she told me. “I don’t mind cooking, or supervising the staff, or balancing the books, or helping to make up the duty roster with Marco. But I do all that to help you, only you won’t let me. I guess you did just need a housekeeper, after all.”

She tried to go around me again, but I wouldn’t let her. “That’s not what you are. I told you, more than once, that you don’t have to do any of that. We can hire someone—”

“To muck it all up? Or to betray you ‘cause someone is always trying to kill you or take advantage of you and you can’t trust them? I agreed to take care of it, and I don’t mind taking care of it. But I do mind this! This stupid insistence on handling every damned thing yourself, whether you need to or not. There are other people at this damned court!”

I looked at her helplessly, because I’d just gotten up and wasn’t even all that alert yet, but I’d already managed to majorly screw up. “I know that. But . . . what I do . . . other people can’t help me with. And I’m supposed to look strong, even when I’m not. All those other Pythias, they were so commanding, and I’m . . .”

I trialed off, because there were tears in my eyes, because I’d hurt Tami, and because I was a screw up who’d somehow managed to convince herself that she was going to get better at this, but never did.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” I finished.

Tami’s expression had softened during my rambling admission; she had a heart bigger than anyone I knew. But her eyes were still resolute when she said: “Delegate. All of it. Except for three things.”

“What?”

She finally got tired of holding the tray, and sat it down on the floor, because there was nothing else in the vicinity. “My momma always said you gotta remember the Rule of Three.”

“The what?”

“She said a person can handle three things, and no more than three, at one time. You add any more and it’s like your brain fractures and you start to lose focus. You don’t know what to do next or what to concentrate on, ‘cause there’s so much you’re supposed to be doing, and so you end up wasting time on stupid stuff that don’t help anybody. Like all those audiences you’ve been giving.”

“I have to do those—”

“Why? I know you hate them, and anyway, I asked some of your acolytes, and they all said the same thing. Most Pythias only gave audiences one day a month, and people had to fight for a spot—”

“They weren’t in the middle of a war,” I pointed out. “And with a huge backlog—”

“You didn’t handle the backlog all summer, and I didn’t see anybody dying.”

“I was running for my life!”

“Yeah, and the world trucked on while you dealt with more important shit. Like you should be doing now. Let the bastards stew for a while; it’ll do ‘em good. I’ll tell Francoise to make up a short list—really short—of people with genuine reasons to need an audience, and you can take one—”

“Tami—”

“—or two days a month and deal with them, if you have time. They need to understand that seeing the Pythia is a privilege. They gotta earn that shit! And you gotta decide what your three are.”

“I’m . . .” I stopped because, honestly, I had no idea. Being Pythia meant always having something to do, and Tami’s mother had been right: after a while, it all blended together, like the thousand flashing signs along the Strip. It made it really hard to sort out the important stuff from the less- or non-important.

Tami seemed to realize this, because she pulled me over to the table and sat me down. “Close your eyes,” she instructed.

I closed my eyes.

“Okay, clear your mind as much as you can. Don’t go chasing any rabbits, just breath for a minute. Calm, slow, and easy.”

Sure, I thought. Because those things came so naturally to me! But it was Tami so I tried. And after a few minutes, her soothing voice did have me feeling calmer and vaguely sleepy.

“Priorities,” she said softly. “What’s the top three things you need to deal with right now? Not what other people want you to deal with—all those bastards wanting a piece of you—but you. What’s your top three?”

“Rhea,” it came out immediately, without me even having to thin

k about it. “I don’t know how to help her, but I have to figure it out.”

“And?”

“Mircea.” I didn’t elaborate on that one, and Tami didn’t ask. It was one reason I fucking loved her so much.

“And the last one?”