by Anne Bishop
Something bad had happened. Simon, the other Wolf she had drawn in that picture she’d made for Jackson, had been hurt. And because the bad had happened, something else would happen.
The girl looked at the drawing she’d made that day. Storm clouds and lightning. Cars full of people driving away from the storm. But on the other edge of the paper, something waited for the cars and the people—something she couldn’t picture in her mind, something her hand refused to draw because it wasn’t meant to be seen. It simply was.
And it, unseen and terrible, waited for the people in the cars.
Hearing a sound outside her door, the girl shoved the drawing under her bed before Jackson walked in carrying a mailing envelope. He placed the envelope at the foot of the bed.
“Meg, the Trailblazer, said we should take pictures for you to look at.”
New images? She was ready to look at new images.
“Thank you.” She must have said the right thing because he nodded and picked up the dishes she’d left on the desk.
She waited a minute. Then she carefully lifted the envelope’s flap and removed the photographs.
Her breath caught as she looked at each one, drinking in the images.
“Not in order,” she muttered as she rearranged the photos. “Need to be like . . . this.”
A place. All the photos were different images of a wonderful place. But . . . where? Her old keepers used to identify images. How else could she tell someone what she saw when she was cut?
Nothing written on the backs of the photos, so she turned the envelope over. Carefully printed on the front was one word: Sweetwater.
The girl spent the rest of the evening listening to the Wolves howl as she studied the photographs.
CHAPTER 53
Moonsday, Maius 28
Monty didn’t want to be included in the meeting with Mayor Franklin Rogers and Police Commissioner Kurt Wallace. He’d lost a good man, and the rest of his team were recovering from lesser injuries and the shock of the attack. And for some reason, his daughter was still a target of an unknown aggressor. But Captain Burke wanted him there since he dealt with the Courtyard and could offer an informed opinion.
Well, fine. He’d offer an informed opinion to His Honor. If there was going to be any criticism about actions at the stall market that led to human casualties, his men deserved to have him stand for them. Especially Lawrence MacDonald, who could no longer speak for himself.
Nodding to Captain Zajac, who had also been called to this meeting, Monty took a position to Captain Burke’s left. Mayor Rogers sat behind his desk, a position of power. None of the police, including the commissioner, were invited to sit.
“Dreadful business,” Mayor Rogers said. “Can’t minimize the damage the Others did to human property, or the number of injured and dead that resulted from their attack.”
“Counterattack,” Zajac said at the same time Burke said, “Self-defense.”
“If you read my report, you know that men connected to the Humans First and Last movement started the incident—and fired the shots that killed a police officer and one of the terra indigene,” Zajac said. “Other HFL members attacked the Courtyard’s bus, tipping it over and attacking the Wolf inside.”
“They shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” Commissioner Wallace said sharply. “They should stay inside the Courtyard. Isn’t that why businesses are required to make deliveries? So the majority of our population doesn’t have to deal with those creatures? And, gods below, is there really an entity made of fire?”
There is much more, and worse, than a fire Elemental in the Courtyard, Monty thought, angry that all the effort he and his men had put into creating a dialogue with the Others could be destroyed by fools. Having a police commissioner pretend he didn’t know about the Elementals after the storm that pounded the city back in Febros was beyond foolish; it was a level of denial that could get them all killed.
Zajac hesitated before answering. “It appears to be the case. And it’s unlikely that it was a fluke gust of wind that tore the roof off the building or piled up heavy debris against the other set of doors, preventing anyone from getting out that way.”
“Then the Others should be held accountable, should be required to pay for damages to the building as well as pay for all the cars that were burned,” Rogers said.
“Pay for damages?” Monty repeated. “I guess the pledge you made when you replaced the previous mayor, who died because of his involvement in the HFL movement and his subsequent role in the deaths of several terra indigene, was nothing but political hyperbole.”
“Now, see here . . . ,” Rogers shouted.
“You pledged to work with the Courtyard to avoid future conflicts, and now you’re trying to start a fight?”
“That’s enough, Lieutenant,” Burke said. His voice sounded mild, but his eyes sparked with a warning.
“You have anything to say about this, Burke?” Commissioner Wallace demanded.
Burke stared at Wallace. Then he looked at the mayor. “Three words. Jerzy. Talulah Falls.”
Rogers and Wallace stiffened.
“You may want to check how many years are left on the land lease for this city before you suggest to terra indigene leaders that they keep their residents inside the Courtyard’s fence,” Burke said. “You may want to check how many years are left on the road and railway right-of-ways. If the Others don’t renew the land lease, they can evict everyone in this city, the same as they did in Jerzy. Or they can make sure we can’t leave.”
“Are you suggesting that they’ll block all the routes out of the city?” Rogers said.
“They closed us in with a snowstorm and glaciers blocking every road leading out of the city. I imagine they can be equally efficient even in warmer seasons,” Burke said.
“That may be, but we have to consider people’s reactions if we give the impression that the loss of human life is insignificant,” Wallace said. “The way the Others retaliated . . .”
“The terra indigene defended themselves against an attack,” Monty said. “They defended themselves and their human companions, one of whom was a wounded police officer, from the aggressive actions of humans who were, for the most part, not merchants but men who were there that day for the express purpose of starting a fight and killing or seriously injuring the Others. The terra indigene’s actions were their typical response to being attacked.”
Before Rogers or Wallace could respond, Burke added, “The Others have not yet retaliated for the attack or for the HFL’s attempt to kill Simon Wolfgard.” After a moment of stiff silence from everyone else in the room, he continued. “Let’s stop pretending this was a spur-of-the-moment action by some hotheads who didn’t want a few Crows to buy some trinkets. The HFL wanted to stir things up, wanted to get people stirred up and angry at the Others so that no one looks too closely at what they’re doing.”
“You’ve made your dislike of the HFL movement quite clear,” Rogers snapped.
“I certainly hope so, because the blood of the next human who dies in a conflict with the Others is on your hands,” Burke snapped back.
“That’s enough!” Wallace said, stepping forward. “You’re out of line, Captain!”
Burke took a step back. “Say that after we find out what the HFL is going to cost this city.” After giving Captain Zajac a sharp nod, he walked out of the mayor’s office.
Monty rushed after him but didn’t try to speak until they were in the car. “You’ve just made enemies of the mayor and police commissioner.”
“The only thing they can kill is my career. I’ll choose that over the alternative any day.” Burke rubbed his hands over his face and blew out a breath. “Let it go, Lieutenant. For now, let it go.”
Seeing no choice, Monty let it go. But Lizzy and the Denby children were playing in the Courtyard because someone still wanted somet
hing that had come to Lakeside with Lizzy. Until that outside threat, that human threat, was eliminated, he had to trust that Simon Wolfgard and the rest of the Others in the Courtyard would hold to their rule of not hurting the young—even if the young belonged to a species they considered an enemy.
* * *
Meg kept her eyes on the road, her hands on the steering wheel, and refused to say anything when Simon sighed—again.
“Meg, with the way you’re driving, we can reach the Market Square faster by walking.”
“I’m being careful. There’s nothing wrong with being careful. You’re still healing and don’t need to be jostled.”
“Dr. Lorenzo is waiting for us.”
“He can examine Nathan first.”
Okay, maybe she was going a bit too slow. Maybe the BOW couldn’t go any slower and still be in motion. But she hadn’t known it would be so upsetting to see a friend hurt. And he was hurt, even if he wanted to shrug it off. Which he couldn’t do because his shoulders were still too bruised and sore from the beating he’d received during the fight. He couldn’t raise his arms to hold the steering wheel, which was the reason she was driving them to the Market Square.
“Nathan needs to stay in human form for a full day to let that shape heal, so Skippy will be watch Wolf today,” Simon said. “But Nathan will be nearby. And Henry will be working in his studio. He’ll hear you if you need help. And Jake Crowgard will keep watch. So will Marie Hawkgard. And Nyx.”
As she tried to decipher the message, she pressed on the BOW’s power pedal, bringing it up to a typical speed.
“Why all the guards?” she finally asked. Simon hadn’t indicated that anything unusual was happening today, and she hadn’t had any pins-and-needles feelings either.
Simon looked out the passenger window. “Not guards, exactly. Just more terra indigene keeping watch.”
“Why?” Crows were always keeping watch. And a Hawk or two always soared over the business area of the Courtyard. And Nyx had been spending more time at Howling Good Reads lately, so that wasn’t unusual either. So why make a point of telling her who would be around when they were often around, especially when Skippy was the watch Wolf?
“The humans started that fight in the stall market, but now the monkeys on the radio and TV are yelling about how the surviving humans who were involved in the fight are in jail and we aren’t. So we can’t trust anyone who comes into the Liaison’s Office. Not for a while.”
Maybe never again? Meg wondered. Having a few humans spoil things for everyone could make an exciting story, but she didn’t like it much when her friends suffered for it. “Those people have no right to be angry with you. You just defended yourself.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. She stomped on the power pedal, and the BOW shot forward.
“Meg? Could you slow down?”
“You were the one in a hurry.”
“Not that much of a hurry.” Simon braced a hand against the door.
She lifted her foot—and heard him breathe.
“Is it . . . ?” He stopped. Sniffed delicately.
“Is it what?” she growled, knowing exactly why he’d sniffed.
“Nothing.”
They were running out of road, so she slowed down a little more. “You were going to ask if it was that time of the month, weren’t you?”
“I did not say those words.” Then he added in a mutter, “Already learned that lesson.”
She pulled into one of the wide parking spaces that were used by the earth native delivery trucks that brought in supplies from the terra indigene settlements and took back human-made products.
Meg turned off the BOW but made no move to get out, even when Simon opened his door. He looked at her, then settled back in his seat and closed the door.
“Do you think people will stop coming after Lizzy? Stop looking for whatever they think she has?”
“Yes, they will, because we found it.”
She felt light-headed. It took a moment for her to identify the feeling of happiness mixed with relief. “You found it?”
“Something you told Tess helped her find the book that had secrets about the HFL movement. That’s why humans were chasing the Lizzy. They wanted to get the book back before someone read the secrets.”
Just because the Others found the book didn’t mean Lizzy would be safe. “But no one knows you found it.”
“The terra indigene already knew the secrets, Meg. We found out a few days ago. Now some humans will know too.”
“Will they believe you?”
A long pause. “It doesn’t matter if they believe the words or not.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t matter. People will stop coming after Lizzy, and that will be enough.” She opened her door. “Come on. I need to get to work. Let’s get our doctor visits over and done.”
They walked the short distance to the medical office. Theral was at the reception desk. She looked pale, and her eyes were puffy, but she gave them a small smile. “Thanks for sending the flowers. My aunt and uncle . . . It meant a lot to them that you sent flowers picked in the Courtyard. And it means a lot that you’re going to let them have Lawrence’s share of the produce from the garden this year.”
The examination room door opened. Nathan stepped out, looked at them, and said, “You’re next.”
But Meg stopped at the examination room door, despite seeing Dr. Lorenzo waiting for them. She studied Simon. “Sharing food is important. You did that for Lawrence’s family?”
“We wanted them to know Officer MacDonald was . . . valued.”
Friends were valued. Family—pack—was valued. And the loss of a member wasn’t forgotten.
Meg walked into the examination room and let Dr. Lorenzo check her knee and make his notes. Happy that she no longer needed a bandage of any kind, she waited while Lorenzo poked and prodded Simon, wincing in sympathy when the Wolf tried to stifle a whine.
Simon was hurting plenty, but Dr. Lorenzo didn’t think there was any permanent damage. Simon just needed time to heal. They all needed time to heal.
Feeling the prickling along one side of her back, she hoped they would have that time.
* * *
“Arooeeooeeoo! Arooeeooeeoo!”
Tess hurried out of the back door of A Little Bite with the coffee and bag of food she’d put together for Meg and Sam. And Skippy, who was the designated watch Wolf today.
“Meg isn’t there yet, Skippy,” Tess said as she walked toward the juvenile Wolf sitting by the back door of the Liaison’s Office.
He turned his head, stared at Tess for a full count of five, then continued his yodeling arroo.
Sometimes his antics amused her. But there was nothing amusing about today, not with what Simon had to tell Lieutenant Montgomery. And now Vlad was holding the phone because someone wanted to talk to Simon—and she’d been asked to deliver the message and distract Meg and the youngsters.
Come on, Simon. How long does it take for a human doctor to figure out you’re sore and bruised and you won’t be chasing down a deer anytime soon?
Her hair started coiling and turned green. They had known a decision would be made in response to the trouble humans had caused with their lies, but receiving a decision through a phone call? That could not be good.
“Arooee—”
“I get to stay with Meg for the whole day.”
Sam’s excited voice, coming from the direction of the Market Square, interrupted the yodel. Skippy turned his head, focused, and rushed toward Sam, Meg, and Simon as they came abreast of the garages.
Simon said, “Not the whole . . . Skippy, no!” He stepped in front of Meg to prevent the youngster from knocking her down in his haste to greet her and get a cookie and get brushed and get whatever else Skippy got when he was supposed to be guarding Meg.
True to his skippy brain, the youngs
ter tried to go between Simon’s legs and ended up trapped when Simon tightened his knees.
“Skippy!” Sam grabbed the Wolf by the scruff. “Don’t pester Meg!”
What’s that human saying about a pot calling the kettle black? Tess thought.
Sam might be younger than Skippy, but he was more dominant. Maybe because, mentally, they were more on a par than the other Wolves, Skippy responded better to Sam than he did to the adults.
“Figured you wouldn’t get much breakfast this morning, so I brought some,” Tess said to Meg. Then she looked at Simon.
He watched her hair as it coiled and changed colors. Then he touched Meg’s arm, a simple gesture that was somehow intimate.
“I have to take a phone call.”
“All right.” Meg watched him run to the back door of HGR. Then she looked at Sam. “You and Skippy wait for me by the office door.” Finally she looked at Tess. “There’s trouble.”
No point denying it. “Yes.”
“How bad?”
“We won’t know until Simon is done with that phone call.”
Meg hesitated. “Did I see this? When I fell and you listened, did I . . .”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Believe me, Meg. If you had said anything, even a hint that this phone call would come, I’d have told someone.” Everyone. She had seen the look on Vlad’s face when he realized what was on the other end of the phone line. Harvesters were an old form of terra indigene that had adapted their masking shape many times to be the most effective hunters. Wolves were also an old form of terra indigene. So were the Sanguinati.
But some forms of earth native were much, much older. And there were good reasons why they should be left undisturbed.
“Here.” Tess held out the sack of food. “Mostly human food, but a couple of cookies for Skippy.”