Time's Echo: A CHRONOS Files Novella by Rysa Walker Page B

sure
if she realizes Saul's comment is in horrid taste or if she's just too pissed
at Saul to give him any sort of support.
    "All jokes aside," Saul
says, "I'm quite serious on that point. No advance warning outside of the
inner circle and play it carefully . I left that prophecy a bit vague on
purpose. I doubt most people, even in Japan, will connect a clan from the 1400s
with the territory they ruled. This way you avoid everyone wondering why you
didn't caution them—it was a matter of interpretation, after all—and you can
still claim that, in retrospect, it's a clear warning." His eyes narrow as
he looks over at Prudence. "Let me guess. You see things
differently."
    Pru is silent for about two beats,
and when she finally answers, it's directed to Jeanine, not Saul. "You
might want to funnel some additional resources into the rescue and relief
funds, as penance for our failure to interpret the scripture in time. In order to avoid seeming callous or cold." Her eyes
lock onto Saul's with the last words. "More flies with honey…"
    " Than with vinegar, yes. I'm sure we've all heard that one. Use your best judgment,
Jeanine."
    Jeanine face grows pale as she
takes her seat. Everyone in the room knows that use your best judgment is Saul-speak for do it my way. So, no matter what Jeanine does,
someone's gonna be pissed.
    Simon slaps his palm lightly
against the table. "And we're done, unless you have something else,
Brother Cyrus?"
    Saul shakes his head. "Shall
we rise for the benedic — "
    Most of them are halfway to their
feet when Prudence says, "What about your own report, Simon?"
    Saul and Simon ignore her and
stand, while the others all drop back into their seats like someone snipped
their puppet strings.
    Simon gives Pru a wide smile.
"Not much to say really. I don't have a specific assignment, other than a
few financial details. Kiernan will be keeping me company for those. And I'll
be keeping an eye on the bigger picture, monitoring overall developments. Deciding when to launch." Saul clears his throat and
Simon quickly adds, "After Brother Cyrus has examined everything and given
the go ahead. Of course."
    Saul raises his hands to begin the
Cyrist Creed and I join in with the others. The words roll off my tongue
naturally, seven short lines that a Cyrist child knows long before he can
recite the alphabet:
    We choose the Way, so we are
the Blessed.
    As we give to Cyrus, so shall
we prosper.
    We choose the way, so we may be
Chosen.
    I catch a glimpse of Prudence out
of the corner of my eye as we finish the third line. She isn't joining in the
recitation. In fact, she's still seated, her elbows on the armrests with her
hands forming a tent in front of her. She stares down at the other end of the
table, and from this angle, I can't tell whether it's Saul or Simon getting the
evil eye. Maybe both. Her head is tilted a bit to the
side, like she's trying to piece together a puzzle, and even though she seems more sane today than she usually is at this age, it doesn't
look like the puzzle solution is coming easily to her.
    As we reach the "wrath and
judgment" line in the Creed, Pru's eyes open a bit wider, like she's
surprised. She snarls—a feral sound, almost a growl—and rises part of the way
from her chair. I think for a moment she's going to charge straight down the
table like a wild beast and rip someone's face off, but then she sees the men
near the door, who've taken a protective step toward Saul's end of the table.
Pru hesitates, then drops back into her seat. A few
seconds later, she pulls up a location on her key and blinks out.
    Although everyone at the table
sees Pru leave, no one mentions it. The regional Templars gather in a huddle
with Simon and Saul after we finish the Creed, while the others break off into
twos and threes. At least half those who were at the table today are more loyal
to Pru than they are to Saul and they keep glancing nervously at her empty
chair.
    "Want me to take a look at
that,