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“Such as handing my spot as the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven over to Mistress Bloodmuch?” Miri asked, raising an eyebrow angrily at the Mistress in question.
Mistress Bloodmuch put one thin hand to her chest.
“I really must protest! I have no idea who drugged that drink!”
“Right, and if you believe that, I’ve got some nice swampland on Ortha Four I’d like to sell you,” Saxon growled, still in his half-Shifted form.
Lynx was busy running his wand over all the drinks on the tray, though Captain Furx had done his best to withdraw it.
“These have all been drugged,” he announced. “And the green one is poisoned. Even a sip of it would be deadly.”
“So I guess you decided it was easier to drug me than to kill me, is that it?” Miri demanded, glaring at Mistress Bloodmuch.
“How dare you accuse me of such a vile thing?” The other Mistress drew herself up in outrage. “And why should you be the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven? Just because you survived some paltry attack?”
“I was nearly killed!” Miri snapped. “Mistress Mapletaste and Mistress Seethree were killed—butchered right in front of me!”
“That still doesn’t mean you’re qualified to choose the rest of the Sacred Seven or to lead the entire planet,” Mistress Bloodmuch snarled, her eyes glittering.
“And you are, I suppose?” Miri demanded. “If you were in charge the entire planet would be an open wound—everything ruined and strip mined and polluted just so already ridiculously wealthy people like you could have even more money!”
“And so what if that’s true?” Mistress Bloodmuch asked, arching one dark purple eyebrow at her. “If we plunder the planet in search of wealth, we still have our towers to retreat to and our spaceships to take us to other locations.”
“What about the poor and middle-class people—like the people who live in my hometown—who can’t afford a luxury tower to live in or a Space Yacht to take them to a new, unpolluted world?” Miri demanded. “What about them? It’s their lives and homes you’d be ruining.”
“Oh, please…” Mistress Bloodmuch gave a dismissive flick of her wrist. “They’re peasants. They mean nothing.”
“They’re good, decent people and just because they aren’t as rich as you doesn’t mean they deserve to be ground into the dirt!” Miri was so angry now she couldn’t keep her voice down any longer. She was aware that the other Mistresses had stopped their conversations and were staring at her and Mistress Bloodmuch, but she didn’t care anymore.
“Miri, dear, do keep your voice down!” begged Mistress Hottalot, who cared a great deal if people stared.
“No, I won’t,” Miri insisted. “Mistress Bloodmuch has put herself forward to take my place as the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven and I have an answer for her.”
“Do tell?” Mistress Bloodmuch drawled coolly, both dark purple eyebrows arched. “But before you do, may I remind you that I also had a relative among the Sacred Seven—Mistress Bleedalittle was my fourth cousin twice removed—which means I should have a seat at the table!”
“That seems like a rather tenuous connection,” Mistress Hottalot observed.
“It’s as good as Mirabella having that old bag of bones Mistress Razmataz as her Aunt,” Mistress Bloodmuch snapped. “She inherited the old lady’s seat—she was meant to be a member in name only—and now she’s in charge of the whole planet! I tell you, it’s not right!”
“I don’t think—” Mistress Hottalot began.
“Listen to me—all of you!” Miri raised her voice to be heard and the entire room fell silent. “I might be a backwards girl from the other side of the planet, but I know what’s good for Yonnie Six, and that is not being strip-mined for Dream Gas!” she said. “Given that Mistress Bloodmuch specifically told me that’s exactly what she wants to do, I’m going to announce here and now that she will never take my place as the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven. And furthermore, whoever I do choose to take my place will be prohibited from ever making her a member of the Sacred Seven.”
“What?” At last the cool, collected Mistress Bloodmuch seemed to have totally lost her temper. “You can’t do that! You can’t tell whoever takes your place not to appoint me to the Sacred Seven!” she screeched, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“I can and I will,” Miri snapped. “I’ll make it a condition of my transfer of leadership.” She looked around the room, at the other Yonnite Mistresses, all watching with wide eyes and whispering to each other. “Did you hear that? Don’t put yourself forward as my replacement unless you’re willing to swear you’ll ban Mistress Bloodmuch from holding power as a member of the Sacred Seven forever!”
The whispering increased to murmuring as the brightly dressed Mistresses took this in with wide eyes and open mouths.
As for Mistress Bloodmuch, her face had gone white with rage and the nostrils of her long, skinny beak of a nose were flared in fury.
