So, what was so pressing that I let Nathaniel slide another day? You can take the girl out of the service, but you can’t take the service out of the girl.
I had a delivery to make. I was amused to find I still had a certain uniform for Courier mode. But with the uniform comes a forgetfulness. I went to the [waiting place] and picked up the [package] and the [escort]. I thought [package] and [escort] were to arrive together.
Yea. Sure.
I found myself bringing both to my lair, where over a formal cup of tea, the [package] was delivered to the recipient. I was given new instructions, deliver the [escort] to the destination, personally.
If I wasn’t in Courier mode, I would have sputtered my tea and wondered if I had made a grievous error. The destination is not one where I could enter and exit freely. Even Weaver has limits, and this one could be lethal to break.
But I was in Courier mode, which grants me some leeway. And I have been bidden to make a delivery, I can not refuse. I accepted the change in instructions, finished my tea, and left when my guest did with the [escort] in tow.
I remember watching the gates open. I remember being escorted to the complex. I remember the faces of little children looking up at me in surprise. Then the [escort] came from behind me. The children outshone the sun as the [escort] was gleefully accepted. I was escorted to and past the outer gates, where I fell to my knees, completely spent.
When I came to, I was in the lair. An elaborate tea pot was on the table. Two tea cups sat, one upside down and empty, one upright filled with still hot tea, along with a note. “They’re happy. All’s well.”
Best. Payment. Ever.
I toasted for happy children and downed the tea. When I woke in my bed, Nathaniel had gone again, and I found myself wishing for such a tea pot.
Good morning.