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First Plane Trilogy

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. Sibling Rivalry I loved my sister with all my heart, but there were times like these when I hated her, too. I tried very hard not to allow the reality of being Syd’s little sister weigh on me, but it was so difficult when my entire life was about scrutiny, either from those who couldn’t wait for me to screw up, or from my family who watched with barely-concealed concern. Everyone waited for me to crack under the pressure. The next person who compared anything I accomplished to what Syd would have done was going to perish in flame and agony. Meira might sit on First Seat, but her initial four years as Ruler haven’t been as easy as she thought they’d be. Thanks to her father’s new policies, Meira’s power has been diverted away from Ruler and into the hands of her Second Seat and grandfather, Henemordonin, as well as the greedy and grasping court of Demonicon. Struggling to regain control while being constantly bullied and tormented, Meira faces a fresh concern—a cult of mysterious demons has risen in the outer planes, preaching love and peace, finding followers where no religion has ever succeeded before.

Patti Larsen · Fantasia
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84 Chs

Chapter 19: Show On The Road

"My Ruler," Pagomaris beamed a smile at me as she bowed while her minions dressed me the next morning. "Your caravan

awaits you for departure."

"About damned time," I muttered, shooing off the three maiden demons who fussed over the hem of my heavy skirt. It

clacked with irritating abruptness as the large panels of thick plastic they'd sewn into the seam swung and clanked

against each other.

I glared at my aide who appeared instantly distressed.

"You don't like it," she said.

If anyone was ever closer to being yelled at... my temper had worn to a frayed edge and she was a convenient target. Only

the sad look on her face kept me from screeching my irritation at Pagomaris for dressing me in the most inappropriate

travel outfit I'd ever seen-or had the misfortune to wear, for that matter. A towering collar, higher than my

impressively piled hair, dominated the gigantic shoulder plates and bulky wrist cuffs in a way I didn't think possible.

Ahbi sighed. Let it go, she sent.

You're kidding me, I snarled back. I look ridiculous. While I rarely argued with my aide over her choice of wardrobe,

often enjoying the elaborate get-ups she came up with, I was in no mood to be a walking spectacle today.

"Take it off," I said, voice level and cold despite the desperate urge I felt to increase my volume by about a million

decibels. "Now."

She pouted and complained with her expression, a true mistress of guilt, but this battle I would win.

By the time she had me stripped down to the thin leather body suit I'd worn under the giant contraption, Pagomaris wept

softly. Sequoia quickly bundled her off, eyes widening at me as her jaw clenched, apparently blaming me for my aide's

state.

I huffed myself down from the dressing platform, glaring until the maidens fled-within seconds, truth be told, their

forced departure requiring little effort on my part. Impatience dominating my mind, I dove into my wardrobe and pulled

free a thin, lace poncho. I loved it but had only worn it twice. Pagomaris hated when I repeated outfits, claiming it was

my responsibility to set the stage for fashion on Demonicon.

You give her too much leeway, Ahbi sent as I slipped the curtain of lace over my head, my hair making it almost

impossible as the giant, three-hived wrap she'd made of my curls caught and pulled. She's turned you into a doll to be

played with and mocked.

Grandmother, I sent as coldly as I could muster, sending a chill from my witch magic through the demon fire holding us

together, you can be a real bitch sometimes.

Yes, dear, she sent.

I glanced in the mirror, aware there was nothing, at this point, I could do with my hair, though at least my attempt at

dressing myself hadn't succeeded in ruining what Pagomaris created. I'd had enough of her tears without having to endure

her huffing and sniffing over my head.

At least the sparkling wrap I now wore was more to my taste, the heavy lace falling to the floor around me in a drape of

crystal-covered darkness. I slipped my hands through the subtly crafted sleeves hidden inside the drape, fingertips

emerging through the surface.

It will do, Ahbi sent. Now, shall we finally get this show on the road?

My thoughts exactly, I sent.

I made it partway to the door when I realized my quarters weren't as empty as I first thought. Bakari stood by the

window, watching me with his cold eyes. How had he made it past my guards? And had he watched me dress? My cheeks heated

as I switched directions immediately, joining him as he turned to look down and out the window. I sighed, embarrassment

fading, at the sight of what had to be a hundred transports, some small and sleek, others gigantic, loaded down with

guards and trunks, packed with eager demons of lesser planes waiting for me.

"Any news?" I looked away, stomach churning at the thought of the swath we were about to make across Demonicon and hoping

somehow this would all work out.

"Of the Planeless, no," he said. "Though I have spoken to the leaders of my order. They are concerned by my report and

are willing to discuss tactics with you once they have investigated further."

How nice of them, Ahbi sent.

"I advise caution," I said, ignoring her dry sarcasm. "One of my own people fell victim to the cult after only the

briefest of contact. The other barely escaped to tell me of his fate."

Bakari's amber eyes narrowed. His were very dark, deeper than most demons, filled with swirling black lines. "Who?"

"Rameranselot," I said as Bakari's face tightened with anger. "You know him?"

"You're certain he was not using subterfuge?" He always felt dangerous to me, but no more so than now, hovering over me

with the threat of violence quivering in the air between us.

"Positive." Years spent trying to stand up to Henemordonin while he yelled at me served me in this instance, my voice

level, though nothing could prepare me for Bakari's true anger. I was certain at any moment he would lash out and kill me

with a single blow and not even the power of Demonicon would be able to save me.

He finally backed down, head swiveling abruptly as he stared out into the morning. "I will pass this information along,"

he said, his normally soft and crisp voice harsh. "We will take every precaution."

Bakari left me without another word, striding for the door which he closed firmly behind him. I stood there a long

moment, breathing, just breathing, both hands pressed to my chest as my lungs and heart gradually slowed.

Still shaken, I left my quarters, almost running into Sequoia. She took one look at me and frowned, hand on my arm, but I

shook my head and moved on, head high, reaching for the cloak that was Ruler while Ahbi hugged me.

Well done, she sent. He scared me, too, you know.

The elevator descended quickly, delivering me to the transport bay while I exhaled the last of my fright and strode with

false confidence toward my personal craft. Jabuticabron stood next to it, gesturing with a sour expression toward one of

the larger transports, already packed with chattering demons.

"My Ruler," he said. "Your court awaits you."

I came to a firm halt, scowling at him. "I'm taking my own craft," I said. "Stand aside."

Jabuticabron's face twitched even as a shadow fell over us.

"Ruler," Henemordonin's huge hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing without a hint of gentleness. "Shall we?" He gestured

at the big transport, eyes glowering, waiting for a fight.

Son of a... I let the swear trail off as Ahbi agreed, though with far more of an "I told you so" feeling to her than I

liked.

The demons in my path parted rapidly as, still fuming, I stormed my way onto the full transport and, shields firmly

creating a path, I forced my way to the front and sat without grace in the foremost seat, right hand side. Henemordonin

took his ponderous time, greeting family as he went. I could hear him smooth-talking his way forward, refusing to

participate as I glared out the softly tinted shielding now in place into the first three suns of morning. When he

finally sat, the transport powered up. I would have preferred to control it myself, but that, too, was out of my hands as

the four pilots seated behind us joined magicks and stirred the large carrier into motion.

A fanfare of blaring pipes, much like trumpets only sounding more of bagpipes with a chest cold, pealed out across the

city as we soared forward. The curved surface of the bubble of power reflected back to me the long line of transports

floating along behind us, an endless train of ridiculousness.

It was going to be a very long trip.

A furred body leaped into my lap, Sassafras's heavy weight settling down.

This is stupid, I sent.

Welcome to being Ruler, he sent as Ahbi laughed.

It's not as if you would have been able to sneak around anyway, she sent. Even if you had known not to accept your

grandfather's terms, either he would have found a way to delay you and come about to this result, or made sure every city

on the planes knew you were coming.

And isn't this the point? Sass's claws dug into my legs through the thin leather suit. To give them a show while the rest

of us do some investigating?

I'm more curious why your grandfather didn't argue with you this time, Ahbi sent, suddenly sobering. I caught sight of

him out of the corner of my eye. He was watching me and his intent attention made me nervous.

All part of his plan to get rid of me, I guess, I sent. Why else?

Ahbi didn't respond, but Sassafras did.

If you're worried, he sent, I'm worried. We'll keep an eye on him. In the meantime, we have to focus on the Planeless and

hope whatever Henemordonin has cooking stays on the back burner until we can find out what's really going on.

I wasn't hopeful.

***