Etched in Bone

by Anne Bishop

  “That’s beside the point,” Sierra said, rallying. “Why did you tell him not to hire me?”

  “Because you lied to me,” Twyla replied quietly. Seeing the guilty look on Sierra’s face, she nodded, feeling her heart grow heavy with sorrow but also heated by a touch of anger. “And you cheated the Others who sheltered us during that storm.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “You told me you didn’t know how to reach Cyrus, that he didn’t leave a phone number. You told Crispin the same thing. Mr. Simon and Mr. Vlad were quite clear that local calls could be made on the telephones in the stores, but we were expected to make long-distance calls on our mobile phones or use pay phones—or receive permission before making a call. I heard you making a call, child. Heard how many numbers you pressed and knew it wasn’t a local call.”

  “I can’t afford to buy time on my mobile phone right now,” Sierra said. “And it was just a phone call. The Others can afford it.”

  “And that’s just the kind of thing Cyrus says to justify taking what isn’t his,” Twyla snapped. “And hearing you saying what he would say is exactly the reason I told Mr. Elliot not to hire you. You think I don’t know why you lost at least two good jobs? You think I don’t know that Cyrus came around and talked you into doing something you knew was wrong? Maybe you said no the first time he asked. Maybe even the second. But you’ve always listened to him more than you’ve listened to your daddy and me. He’s like a poison to you, getting what he wants and leaving you with the consequences. Cyrus doesn’t suffer when you lose a good job. He may be inconvenienced because one of his sources temporarily dries up, but he doesn’t suffer. The ones who pay are you and your children. Do you ever think about your girls when he comes calling, wanting you to steal supplies or tell him some confidential information that he can use to his advantage? He’s buying drugs and booze and ignoring his own wife and children while you’re struggling to scrape up enough money to put a meal in front of your girls.”

  “Jimmy is my brother. We’re supposed to help family,” Sierra cried.

  Twyla had never understood why so many people, including her children, couldn’t be satisfied with the name they were given. But her husband, James, had started it in their own family by calling their firstborn CJ instead of Crispin James. That had lasted all through the boy’s schooling until he went to the police academy. Then he became Monty to his friends and colleagues. Cyrus James, on the other hand, had decided on Jimmy as his preferred name from the moment he could talk. And Sierra had ended up being called Sissy by her brothers, a word Twyla suspected meant something different for each boy—for one a term of affection, for the other a term of derision.

  “Aren’t your own children also family, Sierra?” Twyla asked quietly. “Don’t you owe them at least as much loyalty as you show the brother who has never done a single thing for you?”

  “He did a lot, gave up a lot.”

  “It’s best if we don’t have that discussion.” She had fought that battle all the years Sierra was growing up, had felt the frustration of knowing Cyrus had somehow gotten under Sierra’s skin so deep that nothing she or James or Crispin had been able to do or say could dislodge Cyrus’s influence. Away from him, the girl was bright, loving, a good mother, and a steady employee. But everything Sierra knew about right and wrong collapsed when Cyrus showed up.

  “You betrayed your employers,” Twyla continued. “You’ve lied more than once to me or Crispin or your daddy when he was still alive. Most of the time you’re not a liar or a cheat. But I suspect you’ve told Cyrus enough about the Courtyard that he’s on his way here, thinking to get a handout.”

  She studied her daughter. Sierra had been two years old when she and James adopted her. Crispin had been twelve, Cyrus nine. One boy had embraced having a little sister; the other boy had resented her from the day she’d come into their home. Maybe it was human nature to want to please the person who rejects you, who wants you to prove you deserve to be loved. Maybe. But no matter what Sierra did or how much she gave, Cyrus would never love his little sister. It was a hard truth for a mother to admit, but Cyrus James Montgomery had never loved anyone but himself.

  “You’re a grown woman,” Twyla said, feeling tired. “If this was just another job, I would have left the decision between you and Mr. Elliot about whether he wanted you to work for him. But this isn’t just another job. Mr. Elliot deals with the mayor and the rest of the city’s government. I reckon there’s plenty of information that might be worth some money to the wrong people. Cyrus would know that, and it never takes him long to find the wrong people. And it wouldn’t take him long to apply whatever hold he has on you to do wrong for him. But this time, girl, you wouldn’t just lose a job and a place to live; you wouldn’t just be taking food away from your children. The Others have their own way of dealing with betrayal, and it’s harsher than receiving a pink slip.”

  “CJ wasn’t being fair,” Sierra said. “He could have sent Jimmy the train fare if he’d wanted to, but Jimmy had to flee Toland on his own.”

  Twyla noticed there was no mention of Cyrus’s wife or children. “He’s on his way here?”

  Sierra hesitated, then nodded.

  “Where’s he going to stay, especially if he does have his family with him?” She would never admit it to Sierra, or Crispin when he heard about her choice, but this was one reason she wanted the efficiency apartment. She could turn down Cyrus and his wife, Sandee, but if she had a spare bedroom, it would be hard to refuse giving the grandchildren a place to sleep. And Cyrus wouldn’t hesitate to use his children as the wedge to get as much from her as he could. Which wasn’t much, considering how little she had right now, but it still soured the day knowing that his children paid for his schemes because helping them meant helping him continue to do wrong, and that she would not do.

  “Not all the apartments are occupied,” Sierra said in a small voice. “And we don’t have to pay . . .”

  “That’s what you told him? You’ve got a place rent free? Child, what are you using for a brain these days?”

  “The Others said we could live here. They’ve even given us some furniture and stuff.”

  “They’re not giving you those things. They’re providing some furnishings that stay with the apartment. Those things are not for you to do with as you please. And living in those buildings isn’t free. Crispin doesn’t work in the Courtyard, so he pays rent like he would to any other landlord. For the folks who do work in the Courtyard, the rent is deducted from the pay up front—something you should think about if you’re going to live here.”

  Sierra stared at her, her mouth hanging open.

  “Well.” Twyla sighed. “You’d best decide quick if you want to find a job at a local business and pay rent same as Crispin or if you’re going to work in the Courtyard doing whatever you’re assigned to do.”

  Sierra walked out of the room. A few moments later, Twyla heard the apartment door close.

  It wasn’t surprising that the girl hadn’t taken it all in when the terms of employment were explained. They’d been told about working in the Courtyard shortly after the storm came through last month—the storm and the terror that had followed in its wake.

  The terror hadn’t gone away. Not completely. No one said anything, but Twyla knew it by the way Eve and Pete Denby kept a sharp eye on their children, by the way Crispin called to check on her and Lizzy and Sierra a couple of times a day despite being with them each evening. She knew it by the way the Crows flew over to see what was happening at the apartments—curious about the humans, sure, but also watchful for what might whisper past the buildings unseen. She knew by the way the Wolves howled at night.

  And she didn’t need to hear Meg Corbyn speak prophecy to know what would happen to the humans in this city if the Wolves stopped howling.

  She needed to tell Crispin about this as soon as possible. And she needed to warn Meg about
Cyrus. A lot of folks now were aware of what it meant when a girl had evenly spaced scars. Cyrus would look at Meg and see his ticket to wealth beyond measure. He wouldn’t consider that she might be treasured by someone else for very different reasons.

  If he found an opportunity and acted on it, he might get them all killed.

  • • •

  Steve Ferryman handed Tolya’s letter back to Simon. “Are you limiting the potential settlers to Intuits and terra indigene?”

  “Who else did you have in mind?” Simon asked.

  “Simple Life folk.” Steve looked at Henry, Tess, Vlad, and Elliot before focusing on Simon. “I hadn’t realized they were following what was happening in the Midwest so closely until James Gardner asked Roger Czerneda about who was going to resettle the empty towns. Simple Life families have the same challenges as any human group—limited space and opportunities for their children. There are folks on Great Island who are interested in resettling. A few Simple Life youngsters are going to resettle in the River Road Community and are happy about having their own place that still isn’t far from home and family. But others . . .” He sat back. “I have a feeling some of the Simple Life folk don’t want to abandon their way of life altogether, but they’re looking to expand what is available to them. The Intuit way of life is somewhere between Simple Life and what most people living in Lakeside would consider the necessities of life.”

  “Do any of the Simple Life youngsters know about livestock? About cattle?” Henry asked.

  Steve nodded. “Dairy cows. Horses. Some sheep and goats. Chickens.”

  Simon scratched behind one ear. None of the humans on the ranches between Prairie Gold and Bennett had survived the Elders’ wrath. But not all the houses and outbuildings had been destroyed, and the animals were still out there. The Intuits who worked on the Prairie Gold ranch couldn’t handle all the livestock, but Simple Life humans occupying the empty ranches might not provoke the Elders into another attack. “We’ll consider them.”

  “How do you want to do this?” Steve asked. “Hold a job fair?”

  They all stared at him.

  “You mean have a hoard of humans descend on us looking for work?” Vlad finally asked.

  Steve winced. “Not exactly. Well, sort of. If I can have a copy of the list of desired skills, I’ll ask Lois Greene, the editor of the Great Island Reporter, to print a special page with the information, and I’ll see it’s distributed to the Simple Life folk as well as the Intuits in Ferryman’s Landing.” He blew out a breath. “You should know I’ve been receiving some queries from Intuit settlements in the Midwest asking if the terra indigene are going to allow the empty towns to be resettled. Obviously they can’t come here for a personal interview, but it’s something for the terra indigene leaders to think about.”

  “None of those places will be human only or human controlled,” Simon said. “Not anymore.”

  “I think everyone who is inquiring realizes that ‘empty’ means empty of humans, not empty of everyone,” Steve replied.

  “I want to hear more about this job fair,” Tess said. “Telling the Intuits and Simple Life folk about potential work in Bennett is one thing, but word will spread to the humans out there, and what do we do with the mob who thinks they’re entitled to work whether they’re qualified or not—or whether the terra indigene want them?”

  “We’re not going to advertise it beyond Great Island,” Steve said.

  “Humans will notice that many humans are gathering at the Courtyard,” Henry said. “Some will be curious and join them, will find out why they’re there and apply for work.”

  “The people who have approached me have been thinking about this for a while,” Steve said. “Maybe they’ve been wanting a change for a lot longer but didn’t see how to make it happen. And maybe this is an opportunity for some of your people too. Is there anyone here who is able to run a business but will remain subordinate if he or she stays in Lakeside?”

  Simon sat up, thinking hard about the question and about the Courtyard residents. There was at least one who fit that description.

  “I’ll specify that this job fair is about taking a job in Bennett, and that the interview here is a preliminary one. The final decision will be made by the leaders in Bennett, so there is the possibility that a person will be sent back to Great Island if they aren’t suitable.”

  “Or if they’re uncomfortable when they get there,” Vlad said.

  Young Intuits had already traveled to Bennett to help clean up the town—organizing food supplies and discarding food that had gone bad being some of the first things that had been done. Some of those youngsters, mostly male, had remained in Bennett hoping to find other kinds of work. Some had expressed interest in going on to the next town that needed cleanup and had been reassigned. Others had returned to Great Island, unnerved by the feel of the Elders who were watching the town.

  “The Sanguinati control Bennett for the most part, but the new sheriff is a Wolf,” Simon said. “It might be helpful if we could find some kind of human to be his deputy.”

  “I can package up résumés and send them to you,” Steve said. “You can review them and invite the people you want to interview.”

  Simon shook his head. “We won’t be able to tell enough from paper to decide if we’re going to send them on to Bennett for Tolya to look at.”

  “Then spread the job fair over several days, each day being given to a specific kind of work.”

  Vlad nodded approvingly. “One day for farm and ranch workers and the support people like cooks and such. Another day for shops, and another for professionals with the medical and legal skills Jesse Walker felt should be included.”

  Simon looked at Steve. “How soon can you get the humans gathered?”

  “A couple of days after the job list is distributed. I’ll talk to Lois Greene as soon as I get back to Ferryman’s Landing. And we’ll arrange for buses to transport the people from Great Island.”

  “Then interviews will begin next Moonsday,” Simon said. “We’ll start with the humans who want to work on the farms and ranches.”

  Steve pushed back from the conference table. Then he hesitated and looked at Simon. “I’d like to say hello to Meg, let her know how the young cassandra sangue are doing and our progress on building the campus for them. We broke ground on the residential building.”

  Simon struggled to keep his teeth human-shaped and reminded himself that Steve wasn’t a rival.

  Besides, Nathan would be in the Liaison’s Office keeping watch over Meg.

  “Meg would like that,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “And Jean?” Jean and Meg had been friends in the compound where they’d been held and trained and used. Jean was physically and mentally damaged and only marginally sane. But she saw things the other blood prophets didn’t see.

  “She’s Jean.” Steve thought for a moment. “She has some trouble with the farm animals—even within the routines of caring for them, there can be too much that’s different—but she is managing to help Lorna Gardner work in the family’s kitchen garden. Things may bloom and vegetables may grow larger overnight, but they don’t move around, so Jean can handle the change. Lorna says sometimes Jean will sit and watch a zucchini plant for hours. Lorna doesn’t know why she does that or what she sees that the rest of us don’t, but it gives Jean some peace.”

  Elliot said, using the terra indigene form of communication.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Vlad said, leaving the conference room with Steve. He returned a minute later and resumed his seat.

  Elliot told them about his conversation with Twyla Montgomery. “She wouldn’t have spoken against her own pup without good reason.”

  “Lieutenant Montgomery is careful when he deals with us,” Henry said. “He would not have brought someone into the Courtyard who might c
ause trouble for Lizzy or the police pack.”

  “Kid sister,” Simon said, thinking of Officer Debany’s reaction to Barbara Ellen’s news that she was moving in with the Buddy. “Montgomery wouldn’t have kept the Sierra from shelter in the face of the storm that hit Lakeside. And the Sierra and Miss Twyla had been living in Toland, which took a harder hit.”

  “But he didn’t try to save his brother,” Elliot said.

  “Maybe he couldn’t. Or maybe he realized the brother was a danger to the whole pack.”

  “And if the brother shows up here and looks to be a danger to us?” Tess asked. Red streaks appeared in her hair as it began to coil.

  “We’ll deal with him,” Vlad replied.

  “And if he looks to be a danger to Meg?”

  Simon snarled, revealing Wolf-size fangs. Fur sprang up on his chest and shoulders.

  Tess studied Simon, then Vlad. “All right, then.”

  “Miss Twyla said the humans who had worked for us at the consulate had not done their jobs well—an opinion I agree with,” Elliot said. “But we need some support staff, especially since Agent O’Sullivan is also working out of the consulate, so I would like to approach Katherine Debany, Officer Debany’s mother. Miss Twyla thinks she would be a good worker and has the necessary skills.”

  “I’ll speak with Grandfather Erebus and see if any of the Sanguinati would like to learn office work,” Vlad offered.

  “And I’ll talk to Nadine and see if we can provide baked goods and sandwiches during the job fair without shorting our own humans,” Tess said.

  That much decided, they separated to go to their own work. But Tess, Henry, Vlad, and Simon all walked down the access way, and every one of them glanced at the newly constructed screen that allowed Meg to keep one of the side doors open without fighting off bugs all day. They didn’t stop, didn’t stare, but they all listened to the tone of Steve’s voice as he talked to Meg.

  Satisfied that there was no need to interfere, Simon continued on to the back door of Howling Good Reads.