Written in Red

by Anne Bishop

  The girl turned. Seeing Meg, she ran up a path between snowbanks. Her hair was a mix of browns, and her dress . . .

  Meg wasn’t sure if her dress was made to resemble flowers or if it was made of the flowers that would be the first to bloom when the snow melted. She could match tulips, hyacinths, and crocuses with their images, but there were others, blue and delicate, that looked as if they would never bloom in any place that wasn’t wild.

  The girl took Meg’s hand in her own, and her joyous laugh made a few of those delicate wildflowers bloom at her feet.

  “You are our Meg,” she said. “I am Spring. I usually wake for a few days while Winter still reigns, although not quite this early. But we wanted to give you something as thanks for saving the ponies, and it’s not appropriate for Summer or Autumn to rise yet, so I’m here.” Her laughter sparkled in the air.

  “I’m glad I was able to help.” And I’ve wondered whether someone tried to poison them because I was here. “You’re visiting for a few days?”

  Spring nodded. “In another day or two, I’ll sleep again. Not so deep as before, but I’ll sleep most of the time for a few more weeks. Winter has kept a list of the new books that have come to our library since I danced in the Courtyard, and she says if I make a list of the ones I want to read, you’ll deliver them. This is true?”

  How could she resist the girl and that smile? “Yes, it’s true.”

  More laughter. More flowers blooming around them.

  Then Spring turned serious. “The warmth awakens, but it also weakens. Beware, our Meg.” She pointed to the creek. “Do you see? The ice has yielded in some places. In other places, it is solid but weak. Not a place to walk or skate now. It will harden again in a few days, although maybe not all the way.”

  “Why will it harden?” Meg asked.

  “A storm is coming from our brothers and sisters in the north. By Watersday, it will cross Lake Etu. I will return to my bed, and Winter, Air, and Water will rule for a while longer.” Spring smiled at her. “I’m glad to have met you. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  I hope I do see you again. “I’d better get going. If I’m late getting back, Mr. Wolfgard will send the whole pack out looking for me.”

  She had meant it as a joke, but Spring’s reply was serious.

  “Of course he would,” Spring said. “Namid has given you to us, and we value the world’s gifts.” Giving Meg one more smile, she ran and hopped and skipped down the road.

  Meg returned to her BOW and drove back to the office. She ate her lunch in the spotlessly clean back room while reading a chapter of the latest book she’d borrowed from the library.

  If I’m late getting back, Mr. Wolfgard will send the whole pack out looking for me.

  Namid has given you to us, and we value the world’s gifts.

  And for the rest of the afternoon, she ignored the words that had produced a light prickling under her skin.

  * * *

  Asia sat in the Stag and Hare, watching the traffic and the Courtyard’s delivery entrance while she waited for the special messenger. She had gone to an upscale salon yesterday and changed her natural blond to a rich cinnamon. A change in foundation garments softened her breasts instead of emphasizing them, and a couple of new, looser sweaters completed her superficial transformation. It wasn’t a bad look for her, and she decided to think of this as a test run for a disguise that Asia Crane, SI, might use for an undercover assignment.

  The messenger arrived, looked around, then beamed a smile in her direction. When he reached the table, he bent toward her, as if about to give her a kiss. Then he hesitated and touched her hand instead.

  He’s something of an actor too, Asia thought. He’d given the hostess the perfect impression of a man who wasn’t yet a lover but wanted to be.

  “Anything interesting?” he asked as he draped his short winter coat over the back of the chair.

  “Nothing.” She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. There should have been an uproar in the Courtyard on Moonsday after the ponies ate the sugar, but there had been nothing then and nothing since.

  “Nothing easily seen.” He opened his menu, skimmed the insert for the day’s specials, and placed his order as soon as the waiter arrived.

  Asia ordered the soup and sandwich special and worked on being polite. She had altered her voice from syrupy to friendly but crisp. That, along with the difference in hair and cleavage, was a sufficient change to make the staff just uncertain enough about having seen her before.

  When they were alone again, the messenger leaned forward, looking as if he were doing nothing more than flirting with a pretty woman.

  “Someone became uneasy about the sugar and didn’t give it to the ponies,” he said. “The police have it now and will test it for poison.”

  “That’s not good,” Asia muttered.

  “It’s not significant. Our benefactor made a call and took care of it. The bottom line is humans before Others, so the tests on the sugar have been bumped way down in the lab’s queue. We’ll be gone before anyone gets around to fulfilling that particular request.”

  “So it didn’t do anything for us.”

  “Oh, but it did. It confirmed that our benefactor’s property is hiding in the Courtyard and using up a valuable asset to help the beasts. Knowing that, we take our preparations to the next stage.”

  The waiter brought their meals and topped off their water glasses. The first glass and top off was part of the meal in restaurants like this one. After that, with the water tax being what it was, a glass of water cost as much as a glass of wine.

  “The story I’ve spun for the locals is that two dozen men, friends of mine from our university days, have come to Lakeside for a winter vacation—snowmobiling, cross-country skiing, and so forth. There are good trails in the park, and there is an inn nearby that caters to visitors who enjoy winter sports. It even has a parking area just for snowmobiles. This thaw has soured things somewhat for winter sports, but we’re exploring the area and enjoying a chance to catch up with old friends. We aren’t complaining to the proprietors about the unseasonably mild weather, and that makes us good customers.” After giving her another smile, he took a big bite out of his sandwich.

  “Two dozen men amount to a lot of expense to retrieve one item.” Asia swallowed a spoonful of soup. She hadn’t believed the benefactor would send that many men for this job. Her backers would want a large chunk of the finder’s fee that she’d been promised, but even so, her cut would be substantial. And that was just from helping the benefactor reacquire Meg. The real money would come from the acquisition of the Wolf pup.

  “According to the weather reports, there’s a storm coming in on Watersday.” The messenger wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We’ll use it to cover our tracks and reacquire the property.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to get in and out before the storm hits?” Asia asked. “No,” she continued, answering her own question. “Those damn Crows are always watching.”

  He nodded. “My men scouted the neighborhood, including the area of the park nearest the Courtyard. Some of the Crows spotted the snowmobiles and followed two of them halfway across the park. The birds need to be grounded by a storm so we can work without being spied on.”

  “You’re taking a chance if the city closes some of the roads.”

  “The storm is coming down from the north, and we’ll be headed out on the roads running east or south. We’ll stay ahead of it, and even if we have to hole up for a few hours, we’ll get far enough away that anyone trying to follow us will lose our trail. In the meantime, we’re going to cause some mischief.”

  “Like what?” Having more appetite now than she’d had at the start of the meal, Asia tasted her sandwich.

  “A few college boys with good throwing arms, a van with a side door, and a few do
zen eggs to make a mess. Firecrackers thrown over the fence by a team on a snowmobile. Setting rags and paper on fire at one of the Courtyard entrances. We’ll be pulling the same pranks on neighborhood streets in the area.” He gave Asia a big smile. “Besides keeping the police busy, we’ll have a chance to observe how the Others respond—how many head for the problem, how many head for whatever places they think need defending, and what areas are left vulnerable that we can exploit.”

  “The business area of the Courtyard is usually deserted once their stores close,” Asia said.

  He nodded. “And the door in the parking lot’s back wall is wood with a simple lock. Their security is pitiful. Makes you wonder how they’ve managed to stay in control of this continent.”

  “When does this mischief begin?” Asia asked. Then she almost dove to the floor in response to a rapid series of loud bangs.

  The messenger grinned. “Right about now.”

  * * *

  “Is this typical spring fever?” Monty asked as Kowalski drove them to the next case of reported mischief. They’d already had three calls from the Courtyard. Simon Wolfgard had been annoyed about the first set of firecrackers that had been tossed in the Liaison’s Office delivery area and the Courtyard’s customer parking lot. And he hadn’t been amused by the eggs that had been thrown at the windows of Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite. But he’d been seriously pissed off about the second set of firecrackers tossed in the delivery area, because the dumb-ass teenagers had lingered on the sidewalk, taunting Nathan, who slammed out of the office in challenge. Then Meg ran after Nathan. She tripped and might have hurt herself if she hadn’t landed right on the Wolf, effectively stopping him from getting too close to the firecrackers.

  Louis Gresh had answered that call, and Monty was waiting to hear from the bomb squad’s commander whether there was anything hidden among the firecrackers that could have injured woman or Wolf.

  “Typical?” Kowalski shook his head. “Most kids aren’t going to risk getting smacked for using the week’s ration of eggs, so this egging windows is new.”

  “They could be buying the eggs on their own,” Monty said.

  “Eggs cost twice as much without the household ration coupon,” Kowalski countered. “High school and college boys coming in to buy eggs and paying that price are going to get noticed. And if they buy from a store in their own neighborhood, we’ll hear about it or their parents will.”

  Monty pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t like this, Karl. It feels like we’re being set up.”

  “By whom?”

  He lowered his hand and sighed. “I don’t know.”

  They pulled up to the curb and got out. Looking at the egg-splattered front window, they didn’t need to ask the irate owner what the problem was.

  “Storm is coming in on Watersday,” Kowalski said. “That should put an end to this.”

  Monty took out his notebook and pen. “I hope you’re right, Karl. I truly do hope you’re right.”

  CHAPTER 23

  With exaggerated care, Captain Burke set the phone’s receiver in its cradle. Then he looked at Monty and said, “We’re being stonewalled, Lieutenant. The lab just informed me that they have to deal with evidence that pertains to actual crimes first. Our request is for a crime that was almost committed. My guess is we’ll see summer before we see a report.”

  “Humans First and Last,” Monty said, thinking about the mayor’s potential reelection platform.

  Burke nodded. “That’s how I’m reading it. Now. What are you going to tell Simon Wolfgard?” He gave Monty his fierce smile. “There’s not much that goes on in this station that I don’t know about, so I know Wolfgard has called once already this morning looking for an answer.”

  “I’ll tell him the truth. The lab will do the tests as soon as they can.”

  “You think he’ll believe that?”

  Monty didn’t bother to respond.

  “Wolfgard will know the lab is trying to screw him without buying him dinner first,” Burke said quietly. “Let’s hope he continues to believe in your sincerity.”

  * * *

  When Vlad, Henry, and Tess came into HGR’s office, Simon didn’t waste time. “The monkeys aren’t going to help us. Montgomery gave me excuses, but the end result is we aren’t going to know if the sugar was poisoned.”

  “The lieutenant had seemed honest in his dealings with us,” Henry said, sounding disappointed.

  Relenting a little, Simon pushed back his own anger. “He sounded frustrated, even a little angry. The police lab doesn’t want to help us, and they aren’t interested in helping him either.”

  Vlad shrugged. “A strike against the monkeys, and something that won’t be forgotten.”

  “No, it won’t be forgotten.” Especially after Elliot’s report earlier this morning about the mayor’s efforts to court supporters of a humans-only policy for Lakeside.

  Fools had tried that before in other parts of Thaisia. The wild country was still reclaiming the last town that had such leaders, so it wasn’t all that many years ago.

  Tess stirred. Or, more to the point, Tess’s hair stirred, curling as it changed from brown to red.

  “There is another way to find out if the sugar was poisoned,” she said.

  “How?” Simon asked. As he studied her, he realized that Tess wouldn’t look any of them in the eyes when she was angry.

  “Get Darrell Adams’s home address for me. Elliot should have it in the consulate’s employee files.”

  * * *

  Tess waited until evening before she walked to a bus stop a couple of blocks away from the Courtyard. As part of the agreement with Lakeside, the terra indigene could ride any public transportation in the city for free. But using that bus pass would bring attention she didn’t want, so she paid the fare, putting in her coins like the humans before taking a seat a few rows from the front. She kept her hair bundled under the wool cap, but she loosened the scarf she’d wrapped around her neck and mouth.

  She transferred to another bus, finally getting off at a stop a few blocks from the apartment complex where Darrell Adams lived. She walked briskly, fighting her own nature with each step. She wanted to shift closer to her natural form, but it was important to remain recognizably human. No one who looked upon her true form could survive. Since she was here to test someone else’s weapon and send a warning to the police, an apartment building full of corpses would be overkill.

  When she reached Darrell’s apartment, she heard the television through the closed door. Were the neighbors annoyed by the volume? She cocked her head as music suddenly drifted out from another apartment. Or did they all turn up the sound to hear their own choice and drown out the competition?

  She knocked on Darrell’s door, then knocked again loudly enough that the door across the hall opened and an old woman peered out. Tess ignored the woman and knocked again.

  Darrell finally answered, the television program now blaring into the hallway almost muting the sound of the door across the hall being vigorously shut.

  “What do you want?” Darrell asked when he recognized her.

  Tess let the tiniest bit of her true form show in her eyes as she looked right at him. “We have something to discuss.”

  He staggered back from the door, and she followed him inside, catching him by the arm and leading him to the recliner that was clearly his preferred place to sit.

  Only a momentary heart flutter, only a temporary weakening of the limbs from that brief glimpse of her. He needed to be in good health for the test.

  She pulled off the wool cap. Her hair—black with threads of red—tumbled around her shoulders, coiling and moving. She removed the small jar from a zippered inner pocket of her coat, unscrewed the top, and held the jar out to Darrell.

  “Take two,” she said. “Eat them.”


  “Why?”

  “You can choose between the sugar or this.” Looking into his eyes again, she let the human mask fade from her face a little more.

  Darrell wet himself.

  She shook the jar. “Two.”

  He took two sugar lumps, popped them in his mouth, chewed a couple of times, and then swallowed. She brought her face back to the image her customers and the terra indigene were used to seeing, but her hair remained the death color with those few threads of red.

  As she watched him, she tapped two sugar lumps onto the floor near Darrell’s chair. She didn’t have to wait long. Twice she turned up the volume on the television to drown out his screams, and twice those screams eclipsed the sound.

  Someone began pounding on the door, shouting, “What’s going on in there? We’ve called the police!”

  Busybody, Tess thought, annoyed. And because she was annoyed, she stuffed her wool cap in her coat pocket and walked out of the apartment, leaving the door open. She kept her eyes averted, but her true form was close to the surface and her coiling hair drew the eyes of those she passed. She savored the little bit of death that touched every person who looked at her.

  She walked and walked, her hair still black but starting to relax. She still kept her eyes averted, although it was doubtful any of the people in the cars even glanced her way, and there were very few people on foot.

  A man lounging in a doorway spotted her and stepped in her path. She didn’t know if he intended to rob her or rape her. She didn’t care. With him, she could slake her hunger.

  She looked him in the eyes and held his gaze while he collapsed. She stepped around him and kept going. Eventually, when the cold had more bite than her anger, she tucked her hair under the wool cap, walked to the nearest bus stop, and took the next bus home.