by Anne Bishop
Monty filed out with the rest of the men. There was no answer at his sister’s apartment, no communication at all since his mother’s last message. They could be anywhere at this point—and nowhere was safe.
“Should I bring the car around, Lieutenant?” Kowalski asked.
Monty nodded. “I’ll take a minute to check my messages; then I’ll be ready to go.”
• • •
At the trailing end of dusk, Simon trotted over to the part of the Courtyard where the Elementals resided.
They were all there, except for Autumn and Winter.
“Wolf?” Air said. “You have an answer?”
He’d talked it over with Blair and Nathan, with Henry, with Vlad and Nyx. He’d even talked with Tess in order to shape an answer to the question of why humans would have killed the Wolfgard in two regions of Thaisia when they should have known their so-called victory would be nothing more than a short-lived illusion.
“Go after one in order to bring down another,” Water said thoughtfully. “Attack in one place to distract anyone from seeing the beginning of the true attack.”
“We will give your words to Ocean,” Water said.
Dismissed. Simon trotted back to the Green Complex, moving as if he didn’t have a care. He didn’t think the Courtyard would be in danger from whatever was coming as long as he was sure that anyone within its boundaries wouldn’t be considered an enemy. He would have to think about how he could split the police pack to herd those he trusted into the Courtyard, where they would have as much protection as the terra indigene who lived here.
When he reached the Green Complex, Meg stepped out of the summer room.
“Simon? We need to talk. You don’t have to shift. I just need you to listen.”
He wasn’t sure he liked this arrangement of not being able to voice an opinion she could understand, but he could listen this time. He followed her into the summer room. When she sat on a lounge chair, he sat in front of her, his front paws on either side of her feet, bringing him so close her knees brushed his chest.
She told him about the cards she’d drawn when she wondered what would happen because of the death of the Wolves. She told him about the question mark after she asked about Lakeside.
“It wasn’t really a prophecy, but I thought you should know.”
He thought it was a pretty accurate prophecy. Jean had seen a vision of Lakeside being one of the few human places that survived. Now Meg saw an undecided future. After meeting with the Elementals this evening, he would agree with that. Whatever actions and decisions were made by humans and Others in the days ahead would decide Lakeside’s future.
He didn’t want Meg to feel unhappy, so he licked her nose and made her laugh. She stretched out on the lounge chair. He stretched out beside it and thought about human males and females and how females on TV often complained that the male didn’t talk to them, didn’t know how to communicate.
Even when he was in Wolf form, he and Meg communicated just fine. Maybe they communicated better than two humans because she didn’t expect him to talk.
That was an entertaining thing to think about, so he thought and dozed and, when she fell asleep, gave her hand a couple of friendly licks.
CHAPTER 43
Words became thoughts conveyed as a wind that riffled the surface of lakes; as a taste in grass; as the smoke rising from a short-lived natural fire. Those thoughts, those ideas, moved swiftly to the north, the south, the west, the east.
Tasting the thoughts when they reached the surf, Alantea spun them back into words.
Distraction. Diversion. Attack in one place in order to destroy the true prey that lived in another place.
I can create distraction. Alantea sent that thought back to kiss Thaisia’s shore.
We can be a diversion, offered other Elementals.
They waited for Namid’s teeth and claws to reply.
For two days the Elementals, from the smallest to the most powerful, waited for an answer.
Then, for just a moment, an odd and terrible silence formed a skin over the whole world. Then it was gone, leaving behind the answer.
Distraction.
Diversion.
Destruction of the true prey.
Thin the herds.
• • •
A wind began to blow from the northernmost part of Thaisia.
A wind began to blow from the south, teasing the water Elementals who lived around the gulf until they slapped at the wind, creating surges that slipped over the retainer walls that humans had built to protect their cities.
One of the Elementals known as Earth pretended to pick a quarrel with Pacifikus, the Elemental who ruled the Pacifik Ocean. Earth stamped her foot, then leaped onto Tsunami’s back and raced for the West Coast of Thaisia. Pacifikus laughed, mounted Typhoon, and gave chase, still undecided if he would steer the coming storm away from most of the coastline or run with Earth and feed the storm until it reached its full potential.
And off the coast of the eastern Storm Islands, Alantea mounted Hurricane and began to limber up her steed.
CHAPTER 44
Watersday, Juin 30
Hope frowned at her half-finished drawing. The Wolfgard cabin looked fine. So did the trees and grass. But the real sky was a clear, deep blue, and the sky she’d drawn was dark, ominous. The storm clouds had shadows in them that almost formed shapes—creatures with teeth and claws.
She tore the drawing out of her sketch pad and turned the paper over to the clean side. She wasn’t going to finish that drawing, but Jackson had told her that paper might be harder to come by, so she wasn’t going to waste what she had.
She slapped a hand in front of the nose of the juvenile Wolf who was sneaking up on her colored pencils. “Those aren’t twigs to chew on.”
The culprit made a sound like a guilty grumble. Another juvenile made a sound that could only be laughter. The next thing she knew, all the young Wolves had abandoned her and were engaged in a mock battle—lots of snarls and body bumps as they chased one another.
Tension eased from her shoulders as she picked up a black pencil. Ever since her hysterical warning had thwarted an attack on the Wolves, there were always a couple of juvenile Wolves keeping her company. More to the point, they were watching intently for any sign that she was going to do the crazy thing again. The youngsters weren’t sure what had happened or why; they just knew that the adults had responded to a threat they couldn’t see—and their Hope had given the warning howl in her own way.
So they watched her. So did the juvenile Hawks, Eagles, and Ravens. She’d even spotted one of the big golden Panthers watching her from a distance.
Maybe she should go inside and compose a letter to Meg Corbyn. Or ask Grace if she could go down to the communications cabin and send a short e-mail. She wasn’t sure what she would say, but it seemed important all of a sudden.
“Hope? What’s that?”
Hope blinked as she focused on Jackson, who was crouched beside her. Why did the sun look so bright? Had she fallen asleep? “What is what?”
He pointed to the paper. “That.”
She felt a little sick as she looked at the simple, almost childish drawing she didn’t remember creating.
An outline of Thaisia, with inverted Vs to indicate mountain ranges. Heavier lines marked the boundaries of the regions, although there was a heavier line dividing the Midwest Region i
nto a north and south. Over one of those lines, she’d drawn a magnifying glass that revealed the poles and wires for the telephone and telegraph lines that ran along the shoulders of the roads. But there were no lines connecting the poles on either side of the regional boundary. Instead there were human skulls piled beside the road like a cairn, and the poles had deep claw marks.
Jackson took the paper, turned it over, and studied the half-finished drawing that showed a storm.
“Could I send an e-mail to Meg Corbyn?” Hope asked.
Those amber Wolf eyes studied her now. “Is there something you need to tell her?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to send one . . .” While I could, she finished silently.
“I have to contact Simon Wolfgard. I can tell him you asked about Meg.”
She heard a growl beneath his words. “Did I cause trouble again?”
“Warning us of trouble isn’t the same as causing it.” Jackson stood. “But don’t give peanut butter and bread to the pups. That’s food for you.”
“I didn’t give it to them,” she grumbled. She just wanted to keep her fingers more than she wanted to keep the treat. Of course, watching them try to tongue the peanut butter stuck to the roofs of their mouths was pretty funny.
Jackson sighed and walked away, carrying her drawing.
She gathered up her supplies, checking the area to make sure she had all her pencils. She would sit on the porch and read for a while, or help Grace with chores. Anything that would keep her occupied so that she wouldn’t see the moment when the sky changed from a deep, clear blue to the storm clouds that were coming.
• • •
After putting Hope’s drawing in a cardboard mailing tube, Jackson jogged down the road to the communications cabin. A century ago the terra indigene had little knowledge or use for the wires and poles humans used for communication. They just tended their part of the land and were aware of neighboring groups of earth natives. That was good and necessary, especially for young Wolves who needed to leave their home packs in order to find mates. And some of the more adventurous Wolves had traveled a long way simply to learn about other pieces of Thaisia and the terra indigene who lived there. Somewhere along the way, some of them began to understand what the wires and poles meant to the clever monkeys, who had encroached on a little more land every year until the Elders lashed out and refused to give up any more of the wild country to the two-legged predators.
The wires and poles made it possible for humans to talk to one another over long distances. That had been fine, even beneficial for the Others as well as humans, when the talking had been about moving food from one place to another, or selling blankets where they would be needed. But the humans had used the wires and poles to plan attacks on the terra indigene, and, right now, he was the only one who knew what the Elders intended to do because of it.
“Jackson?”
He turned away from the communications cabin and waited for the Intuit men to reach him.
“Are the prophet pups all right?” he asked.
“Fine. A bit restless today, but they’re fine.” They looked at one another, then back at him. “Have you listened to the news today? No? Strange weather on the West Coast. A tsunami and a typhoon collided, breaking up both storms before they made landfall. But now, instead of being focused, those storms have spread their force in a way that they are going to hit most of the West Coast. The people who study weather can’t explain it any more than they can explain why there’s suddenly cold air coming down from the north and hot air coming up from the south. And there’s a hurricane gathering force as it moves up the East Coast. We aren’t sure if we’re going to be dealing with weather coming over the mountains from the west or coming down from the north. We just have a feeling that it’s going to get rough these next few days.”
He saw them glancing at the mailing tube, and he thought about the storm clouds Hope had drawn. More than one kind of storm was coming.
“It’s going to get rough,” he agreed.
“Thing is, the fire that turned against the men who tried to burn us out didn’t take the whole of Endurance. And we figure not everyone who lives there was in favor of the Humans First and Last movement or what they were going to do.”
“That’s probably true.”
“Several of us had a feeling that we should go down there and make sure those folks have enough provisions to last through the storm. It’s not right to stand by and let them suffer.”
If it had been you, or us, they would have done exactly that. But maybe not. All humans might be the enemy, but not all of them were bad.
“Why are you telling me?” he asked.
A hesitation. “We wanted your permission. Maybe you could let other . . . folks . . . know we’re going down to Endurance on your say-so.”
“You have a feeling that you need my say-so?”
“Oh yes, Jackson. We are certain we need it.”
No more buffers. Even the land used by humans for crops or pastures would feel the Elders’ presence now. And any human who was out there might not return home.
He looked up and spotted the Eagle overhead.
A moment of startled silence.
“Go soon,” he told the men. “Get back to your own village before nightfall.” He hesitated, his instinctive distrust of humans warring with his choice to work with the Intuits who lived in Sweetwater. “When you get back, you should inform your Intuit contacts that lines of communication may be severed between regions. I think we’ll be able to use telephones and send telegrams within each region, but we’re going to be isolated.”
“For how long?”
Forever? “I don’t know.”
“In that case, one of us will stay behind and start sending out the alert.”
Nodding to the men, Jackson walked into the communications cabin and greeted the Crow on duty. Maybe Simon already knew, or knew even more, and was already making plans for the Lakeside Courtyard. But the Wolfgard youngsters in Prairie Gold were vulnerable. And the Intuit village there was much like the one here—a small community that might not survive long if it was cut off from everyone else.
He removed the drawing from the mailing tube and studied the storm clouds in the half-finished drawing. Then he rolled it back up and reached for the phone. He would try calling Simon first, then Jesse Walker and Tolya Sanguinati. If he understood the Hope pup’s vision drawing, it wasn’t just the Elementals who were going to rip Thaisia apart.
To: All Intuit Villages and Settlements
Oncoming storms may sever lines of communication for an indeterminate time. Recommend that three or four villages with the best chance of surviving the storms become message hubs for their region. Also recommend that each village send a brief report to its designated hub daily to confirm status.
Protect your supplies and livestock as best you can. May the gods watch over all of us.
—Dispatcher at Sweetwater, Northwest Region
To: Pater
Hurricane coming up the East Coast. Support of HFL rapidly diminishing. Taking the last ocean greyhound leaving Toland this evening. Will be with you soon to celebrate Cel-Romano’s victory.
—NS
CHAPTER 45
Watersday, Juin 30
Simon barely had time to finish the phone call with Jackson and relay the information to Vlad before Steve Ferryman rushed in from the stock room of Howling Good Reads, dodging Vlad when the Sanguinati tried to block him.
“Have you seen this?” Steve set a piece of paper on the checkout counter.
Simon read the warning, then pushed the paper toward Vlad. “Haven’t seen this, exactly, but I just talked to Jackson Wolfgard, and he basically said the same thing.”
Steve blew out a breath. “Penny Sledgeman has appointed herself dispatch coordinato
r for our area.”
“As the mayor of Ferryman’s Landing, aren’t you supposed to make such appointments?” Vlad asked.
“Penny and my mom have been helping me deal with the deluge of requests for information about the cassandra sangue. This is going to be even more work. My mom and dad are working the barge to bring supplies to the island side of the village; my brother is moving as much as he can on the ferry. So if Penny wants to take this on, may the river bless her. I’m trying to get everyone warned in time to prepare.” Steve paused. “You think we’re going to lose power lines as well as phone? Well, no way for you to tell, is there? Uprooted trees can take down lines and knock out power in a whole area.”
Thinking about the cards Meg had selected in answer to a question, Simon looked at Vlad. To some degree, they would all feel the storms, but he had no reason to believe that the Intuit villages would face Namid’s teeth and claws, so why frighten Steve with too much truth?
Vlad leaned on the counter. “It’s possible that power lines will come down if the storms become severe. But those can be fixed. The loss of communication between regions should be thought of as long-term, and the Intuits and terra indigene should consider how to compensate for that.”