Murder of Crows

CHAPTER 19

On Windsday morning, Steve Ferryman and Jerry Sledgeman stood at the ferry’s rail. They had clear skies and smooth water, and plenty of Great Island residents had been at the dock this morning to take packages to the mainland half of the village and pick up anticipated deliveries.

Lois Greene, editor of the Great Island Reporter, had run a special edition yesterday with Steve’s list of emergency measures on the front page, guaranteeing it would command the attention of every adult in Ferryman’s Landing. So he wasn’t surprised to see the pile of backpacks and overnight cases at the dock, ready for the ferry’s return trip to the island.

The updated prophecy Simon Wolfgard had e-mailed to him had made his skin crawl. And being told that one of the Elementals’ steeds, in its chubby pony form, was staying at the Gardner farm because it was “waiting” was reason enough to figure that whatever was coming wasn’t going to pass them by.

“You okay with making this delivery?” Steve asked as they walked off the ferry with three plastic containers.

“Sure,” Jerry replied. “Just wish I had more cargo to justify the gasoline usage.”

“If things go the way I hope they do, this will be the last light delivery you’ll make to Lakeside. And at least some of the teenagers who are looking for work this summer will have jobs because the village businesses will need extra hands.”

They stored the containers in the van that was parked in the delivery area of the dock.

“We’ll see what we see.” Jerry closed the van’s back doors and went around to the driver’s door. “I’ll give you a shout when I return.”

Steve watched Jerry drive away. Then he turned back to the ferry, figuring he’d give his brother, Will, a hand storing all that baggage before running up to the bookstore to pick up a copy of the Lakeside News to read on the return trip to the island. But the skin between his shoulder blades suddenly started twitching and twingeing.

He looked at the sky and the water. Still clear, still smooth.

Something’s coming, he thought, seeing the way Will suddenly straightened up and looked at the sky and water.

Before he reached his brother, his mobile phone started ringing.

“So Ruthie is going to be an instructor at the Courtyard, teaching the Others how to get along in the human world,” Kowalski said as they drove out of the Chestnut Street station’s lot. “Like what we saw a while back in A Little Bite but more formal. It doesn’t pay as much in human money as her teaching job did, but with the credits for the Market Square stores, we’ll do all right.”

Hearing something different under the upbeat words, Monty studied his partner. “Do you have a problem with her working in the Courtyard?”

“Me? No. But we had dinner with my folks last night, and my father said he’s been hearing mutters at work about how people who help the Others are traitors to their own kind. My brother is attending the tech college, and he’s heard the same thing.” Kowalski hesitated. “I still think working with the terra indigene will pay off in the end, but …”

“But you’re worried about Ruthie’s safety?”

“Yes. More so after what happened to Merri Lee. And some of Ruthie’s friends—girls she’s known since grade school—don’t want to be friends anymore because she spends time in the Courtyard and helps the Others. And now with everything going on in Talulah Falls … All the TV talk shows are going on and on about what right the terra indigene have to dictate who runs the government in a human town.”

“They can dictate the terms because their alternative is destroying the town,” Monty replied quietly. “And as I understand it, Talulah Falls is no longer a human-controlled town. The government, such as it may be, will be there to keep public services running and act as a liaison between the town’s human population and the Others now in charge of the Courtyard.”

“I don’t think that has sunk in yet,” Kowalski said. “That the Falls is now a human settlement in the Others’ territory and they’re the ones making all the rules—and dishing out the punishment if any of their rules are broken.”

The radio stations barely played two songs in a row this morning without repeating the special news story: as part of the negotiations with the terra indigene, all the top government officials in Talulah Falls were required to resign and leave the area.

The Others weren’t just taking away the status and power those people had; they were driving out anyone they considered adversaries. And all the terra indigene who had run that Courtyard had also left in favor of new leadership that wasn’t already soured by extended contact with humans. A clean slate. A new start. A last chance for Talulah Falls to remain a place where humans could live, even if it was no longer a place where humans could do as they pleased.

The news stories didn’t mention that part, just as the news stories were suddenly vague when it came to acknowledging the people who were dead or missing in the Falls.

If we’re not careful, there will be a lot more humans among the dead and missing, Monty thought. “Tell me something, Karl. How many terra indigene living on this continent have any contact with humans? Guess at an estimate, figuring in every city, town, village, hamlet, and human settlement located deep in the wild country.”

Kowalski said nothing for a full minute. “Five percent? Could be less than that.”

“There have to be millions of earth natives living in Thaisia, hundreds of millions, maybe even billions, living throughout Namid. Only a small percentage of them have ever seen a human, and an even smaller percentage have any interest in seeing us as anything but meat.” Monty smiled grimly. “Our ancestors showed the Others how to weave, how to build a cabin, how to farm, how to build a boat and catch fish, how to build a fire. They learned everything they really needed from us centuries ago. All our technology, all our gizmos. How much interest do the terra indigene living beyond easy range of human habitation really have for such things?”

“Not much interest at all when you put it that way,” Kowalski said.

“I keep thinking about the Humans First and Last movement. I keep wondering if any of them have paid any attention to the history of our world and the history of Thaisia in particular.”

“What about it?”

“For the most part, the Others leave humans alone—until our actions force them to become aware of us.”

Not much mail, Meg thought. Not many deliveries. Not much of anything but waiting.

She pulled a copy of Nature! from the stack of magazines she’d picked up at Howling Good Reads. There wasn’t anyone else supplying her with images that would help her identify what she saw in a prophecy. She didn’t have access to the thick binders of pictures anymore. But she could start creating her own set of image binders. Then whoever listened to the prophecy could have a reference for what she had seen.

Besides, the color photographs taken of creatures from all over the world fascinated her. She just had to remember to limit the number of new images she absorbed each day from the magazines. She didn’t have those disturbing blank spots—information overload, Merri Lee had called them—when she looked at a few new images and then switched to a magazine she had already seen. That was restful, especially since she absorbed so many new images just by going through her daily routine.

The Courtyard kept changing, dazzling her with the flowers that bloomed between one day and the next, with the bare branches of trees that were swollen with the buds of new leaves and then fuzzed with green. Every day, she drove a familiar road through a new place. It delighted her, excited her, but she had to admit that the relief of being in her own unchanging apartment was almost painful some nights.

A cassandra sangue could absorb only so much that was new and strange before her mind shut down. Had that always been true, or was that, like the need to cut, something that had been bred into them to keep them dependent?

Either way, she probably should mention this recent understanding about herself to Simon … or Henry, since the Grizzly would, most likely, simply accept the information and not make a fuss about it.

She didn’t know how long she’d been staring at a picture of tiny, bright-colored frogs when she heard Nathan snarl and a man calling, “Hello?”

Opening the Private door, she stepped up to the counter in the front room. A big man stood just inside the door. He held three rectangular plastic containers and a manila envelope.

“Are you Meg Corbyn?” he asked.

Nathan snarled louder at the mention of her name. She couldn’t see the Wolf, which meant he was right in front of the counter and ready to attack.

“Yes, I’m Meg.” She didn’t recognize the man or the van, and she hadn’t placed any orders in the past few days. She didn’t think anyone in the Courtyard had. Their bus had made the plaza run a couple of times, but only a handful of terra indigene had gone out to shop, and Henry, Vlad, or Nyx had been among the Others who made the trip—a reminder of why the humans needed to behave.

“I’m Jerry Sledgeman, of Sledgeman’s Freight. Got a delivery for you, compliments of Steve Ferryman on Great Island. Okay if I put these on the counter so I can show you the paperwork?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” When Jerry didn’t move, she added, “It’s all right, Nathan. I was expecting this delivery.”

Nathan backed away just enough to give Jerry room at the far end of the counter.

Jerry set the containers on the counter in a stack. Giving Meg a measuring look, he shifted the two top containers to sit on the counter so she could see the printed information taped to the lids.

“Eamer’s Bakery?” Meg asked.

“Two sisters, Mary and Claire, run it and do most of the baking,” Jerry said. “Have another good bakery in Ferryman’s Landing, but that one prefers doing breads and rolls and things like that. Good bread, but when Steve talked to some folks about making some special cookies for Wolves, Mary and Claire were the ones who wanted to give it a try. They—”

Meg slapped a hand on a container as Nathan made a lunge for it.

“Nathan!” she scolded. “If you make another grab for these cookies, you won’t get so much as a crumb!”

Nathan leaped away, stared at her for a moment—and howled.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Meg said. “Don’t be such a puppy.”

Howl!

Another Wolf answered Nathan. And another. And another.

Watching the color drain out of Jerry’s face, Meg pulled the lid off one container and grabbed a cookie. “Here. Here-here-here, have a— Oh. It’s shaped like a cow. How cute.” She took a moment to absorb the image.

Nathan slapped his front paws on the counter. Despite his speed, Meg noticed how carefully he took the cookie from her.

“The cow-shaped cookies are probably beef flavored,” Jerry said. “Claire did say they tried different flavors. It’s explained in the paperwork.”

She watched Nathan prance over to the Wolf bed set up on one side of the office. She also noticed how, despite acting preoccupied with his treat, his attention stayed on Jerry Sledgeman.

Before she could open the envelope, the back door slammed and Simon shouted, “Meg!” He charged into the front room, almost knocking her into the counter as he focused on the human male.

“Everything is fine,” Meg said at the same time Simon said, “Sledgeman?”

“Mr. Wolfgard,” Jerry said, brushing a finger against his cap. “Brought a delivery.”

Meg noticed the slight tremble in Jerry’s hand and the shine of sweat on his face. And she noticed three Wolves crowded in front of the office door. She’d never seen him in Wolf form, but she’d bet Blair was the one staring at the unfamiliar human. The other two seemed younger, and a fourth Wolf, who had his paws on the window and was watching Nathan eat the cookie, was definitely a juvenile.

“Arroooo!” The single vocalization from the youngster at the window quickly became a chorus.

Grabbing a handful of cow-shaped cookies, Meg pushed past Simon and opened the go-through that gave her access to the rest of the front room. The Wolves outside backed up enough to let her push the front door open partway.

“Here,” she said. “Have a cookie and stop making a fuss.”

The juvenile Wolves took the cookies and trotted off. Blair stared at her a long moment before taking the last cookie and walking away.

As she returned to the counter, Meg narrowed her eyes at Nathan.

Crunch, crunch. There was a smug satisfaction to the sound.

Simon opened the envelope and the rest of the containers. He held up a cookie.

“Human-flavored cookies?” He sounded pleased.

Nathan pricked his ears and said, “Arroooo?”

What little color Jerry’s face had regained drained away again.

Meg looked at the papers. “The people-shaped ones have chamomile. They’re soothing.”

“Soothing?” A thread of something dark and menacing in Simon’s voice.

“Chamomile tea is soothing,” Meg said, looking at the rest of the information the bakery had sent. “I like to drink it in the evening.”

Simon studied her. “You do?”

“Yes.” She peeked in the containers. “Okay, the cow-shaped cookies have beef stock for flavoring. The bars have honey. Henry might like to try one of those. The … what is that?”

“Turkey,” Jerry and Simon said.

“That’s the poultry-flavored cookies. And the people-shaped are chamomile. The bakery is asking for feedback on taste and texture.” Meg went through the papers again, then looked at Jerry. “I don’t see an invoice.”

“These are the samples to see if we can produce what you were looking for,” Jerry said. “After that, you can talk to Mary and Claire about the size of the orders and price and such.” He looked at Simon. “And Steve will need to talk to you about how to increase the island’s allowance for the ingredients.”

“Let’s see how this goes, and then I’ll talk to him,” Simon said.

“No.” When they looked at her, Meg pointed at the front door. The three juveniles were back—and the crunching sound inside the office had stopped. “Can we have a rule that you can’t use howling as a form of coercion?”

Simon stared at the juveniles, who immediately looked more subdued. Then he turned to Meg. “If they’re annoying you, just bite them on the nose.”

Jerry coughed.

Meg sighed. “I don’t think that will work for me.” Pulling out her clipboard and pen, she wrote down the information for Sledgeman’s Freight and tucked the business card Jerry gave her under the clip.

“You have a minute?” Simon asked Jerry.

“Sure,” Jerry replied. He brushed his cap again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Corbyn.”

“Thank you.” She looked at Simon. “Am I allowed to lift things yet?”

“No,” he said at the same time Nathan sprang to his feet.

She thought that would be the answer. “Then you bring the cookies into the sorting room.”

“Why?”

“So I can sort them.” If the containers weren’t in the room that was mostly off-limits to everyone else, the floor of the front room would be littered with cookies and Wolves in minutes. Not that she would say that to the dominant Wolf—especially with a human present.

He must have known why she wanted the containers brought in because he grumbled, “I want to try some of these.”

“I’ll make up sample packages. If we’re going to order fresh-made cookies, I need to know what flavors are preferred and how many Wolves want which kind.”

He stared at the containers. “How long can these last?”

Meg shrugged. “I think I saw something in the paperwork about being able to freeze them. They won’t last as long as the dog cookies I’d ordered from Pet Palace, but they should last a few days. Why?”

He whined softly. “There’s going to be a gathering here in a couple of days. I’d like to have some of these for that.”

A gathering that made Simon uneasy? But wouldn’t he have been the one to issue the invitations? “I’ll put aside enough for your meeting.”

Returning to the front room, he vaulted over the counter and walked out with Jerry Sledgeman.

“What kind of meeting is he having here?” she whispered to herself.

Her back was suddenly filled with that pins-and-needles feeling that indicated the answer could be found in prophecy. Gritting her teeth, she waited until the feeling faded. Then she called a couple of the Market Square stores to find the small containers she wanted.

Steve watched another busload of children head down to the dock.

Moments after he had that uneasy feeling, the grade school and high school principals and the owners of the two day-care centers on the mainland side of Ferryman’s Landing called because they, too, suddenly had a bad feeling. Then his aunt Lu called to say she was getting her boat ready for anything he needed. Then his parents called to tell him they were bringing the barge across ahead of its usual schedule. Then Roger Czerneda drove up in Great Island’s new official black-and-white patrol car with its flashing lights and sirens. The other vehicles they used for police business were ordinary cars with regular horns and bubble lights that could be stuck to the roofs. Funny thing. All but one of those cars were also on the mainland side of the river that morning.

Something’s coming, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. Hide the children.

There wasn’t any debate about where to hide them. Everything he’d been told lately indicated that the island was the only place. And just to be sure, the ferry and barge weren’t giving passage to anyone who wasn’t a resident of the village.

If the attack was meant to happen at Ferryman’s Landing, it would have to hit the mainland half of the village. The Sanguinati were keeping watch on the north and east shorelines near the Simple Life farms. The Beargard were watching the western shoreline, while Ming Beargard guarded the docks. The Hawks and Eagles were in the air, watching the river and the roads leading into Ferryman’s Landing. The Crows had spread out through the mainland half of the village to watch cars and people, ready to sound an alarm if they spotted a stranger. The Foxgard and Coyotegard had spread out to maintain a perimeter watch around the island half of the village. Even the Owlgard was out there keeping watch.

They were all as prepared as they could be.

Steve raised a hand in greeting as Jerry Sledgeman pulled into a nearby parking space. Before Jerry got out of his van, Roger Czerneda turned on to Main Street and parked on the opposite side.

“Gods above and below, what’s going on?” Jerry said, gesturing toward the yellow buses on the barge.

“You see anything unusual in Lakeside?” Steve asked. With Talulah Falls still cut off, there weren’t many ways to reach their village except a few dirt roads through farmland, and those weren’t marked in a way a stranger could identify. If someone followed the road that ran along the shore of Lake Etu, that person would reach the city of Lakeside first. Why not stop there? A stranger could disappear more easily in a city.

Then again, the Lakeside police were aware of the potential for trouble, and a city police force had all the tools for checking license plates and drivers’ licenses that a little village like Ferryman’s Landing didn’t have. They probably even had a few of the deluxe patrol cars with cameras that could take a picture of a vehicle for identification. Balance that against one official police officer, newly hired, and a handful of part-time peacekeepers, and Ferryman’s Landing would look like an easier target.

“Simon Wolfgard asked me the same question about Great Island,” Jerry replied, looking around. “Of course, I didn’t know about this when he asked.”

“We’re moving the children to the island. Too many of us had a bad feeling just after you left.”

He hadn’t had time to do anything except answer questions, take phone calls, and help Will load extra supplies on the ferry. As soon as the last bus was on the barge, he’d call Wolfgard. From what he could tell, none of the Intuits had a feeling about any place beyond Great Island and their own village, but without the warning from Meg Corbyn’s prophecy, they wouldn’t have known why they were all feeling uneasy or what to do to protect their own. Seemed only fair to give the Others in Lakeside a heads-up.

“Why come to Ferryman’s Landing at all?” Jerry asked. “What’s here that isn’t easily found anywhere else in the Northeast?”

Steve thought about the question and said grimly, “We are.”

Meg didn’t know what to think when Blair Wolfgard, in human form, walked into the Liaison’s Office just after she returned from her midday break. He had a young Wolf with him, one of the youngsters who had responded to Nathan’s howl that morning.

The moment the youngster saw her, he lunged for the counter, miscalculated the leap, and got only his front half on the countertop, his back legs scratching at the wood base in an effort to haul himself up and over.

Blair grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him off the counter. “You already had a cookie. She’s not giving you another one.” Then to Meg, “This is Skippy. He arrived a couple of days ago from the Wolfgard in the Addirondak Mountains and will be living with the Wolfgard here now.”

As soon as Blair released him, Skippy immediately went to investigate the item that would be of most interest to a Wolf—the cushiony dog bed Meg had ordered from the Pet Palace when Nathan became the watch Wolf for the office. Skippy threw himself on the bed, rubbing and rolling. Claiming.

“You pee on that, I’ll bite your tail off,” Blair growled. “Or Nathan will.”

Skippy, on his back with his paws in the air, just looked at the Courtyard’s enforcer and wagged his intact tail.

The young Wolf had to be a juvenile, but he seemed less mature than Sam, who was still a puppy.

She didn’t have any images of Wolves she could use for comparison, but there was something going on that she didn’t understand.

She leaned toward Blair. “He knows about not shifting where he can be seen by humans? I don’t want to explain to the police why a naked teenager was wandering around the delivery area.” So far she’d avoided any calls about Nathan being outside without clothes or fur, but she didn’t think she would be that lucky with Skippy.

Something in Blair’s eyes. Pity? Acceptance?

“He’s a skippy,” Blair said. “They don’t shift from the form they have at birth.”

“So his name is Skippy …”

“Because he is a skippy. Their brains don’t work quite right and skip over bits of what they need to learn. If they survive to adulthood, they settle down and do just fine. But most of them can’t survive in the wild country long enough for their brains to catch up. A Courtyard is safer, and if a hunt is spoiled here because of a skippy, the pups in the pack won’t starve.”

And the pack’s leaders wouldn’t have to choose between driving away one youngster in order to save the rest.

“I didn’t have any packages for you,” Meg said.

“Wasn’t expecting any right now.” Blair didn’t like being around humans, but he did like tinkering with things—especially the machines that could transform sunlight and wind into electrical power. She suspected his tolerance for her was in direct proportion to her diligence in delivering the parts he had ordered for his current project.

“So you came up to the office to introduce me to Skippy?”

As the Courtyard’s enforcer, Blair exuded a more feral quality than Simon, and she wasn’t quite sure he believed the “Meg isn’t bitable” rule.

“Skippy is going to be the watch Wolf for a couple of afternoons,” Blair said. “He’s here to learn.”

Ha! She suspected Skippy needed a minder, and she’d been elected because the Wolves in the Courtyard were busy.

“Isn’t Nathan going to be here anymore?” she asked. The deliverymen had become accustomed to Nathan, and he recognized them. That meant he reacted only to someone he didn’t know, like he had with Jerry Sledgeman.

“He’ll still be here most of the time,” Blair replied. “But I need Nathan this afternoon.”

Wolves weren’t usually possessive about objects, but Meg didn’t think an enforcer like Nathan was going to be happy about sharing the bed with a goofball like Skippy.

Keeping her voice low, she asked, “Should I see if the Market Square general store still has one of those beds so Skippy and Nathan don’t have to share?”

She watched the annoyed expression on Blair’s face change into embarrassed resignation when Skippy, still on his back with his paws in the air, began a yodeling arooeeooeeoo!

“Yeah,” Blair said. “You should do that.”

By the time Steve Ferryman walked out of Bursting Burgers, he wondered if he and the other adults who’d had a bad feeling that morning had made a mistake. There were still Crows winging through the village, and Hawks and Eagles still soared overhead. Roger Czerneda had been patrolling on the mainland side of the village for hours while Flash Foxgard and Ming Beargard kept watch around the docks. Now Roger parked the patrol car and joined Steve.

“Late lunch?” Steve asked.

Roger nodded as he read the sign. “Bursting Burgers?”

“You haven’t tried them yet?”

“I’ve been getting acquainted with the shops on the island side of the village.”

“These are the best hamburgers in the Lake Etu area,” Steve replied. “Can’t get them on the island side because Burt has a phobia about water. And boats.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. They do a great roast beef sandwich too.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll give it—”

Caw, caw, caw, caw.

“—a try,” Roger finished.

The two men watched the car drive up Main Street and park a few spaces down from where they stood. Steve noted the Midwest license plate on the car and the way the Crows took position in the nearby trees.

The man who got out saw them and hesitated. He started walking toward them just as Steve’s mobile phone rang.

Mom always has excellent timing. “Could use some help here,” he said quickly, turning away so it would look like a personal call and not in some way connected to the stranger.

“Steve, I just had the strangest feeling.” A pause. “What kind of help?”

“Do you have pencil and paper handy?”

“Yes.”

Of course she did. “Write this down.” Keeping his voice low, Steve gave her the license plate number and the make and model of the car. “Hang on to that. I’ll call back.” He ended the call just as the man reached him and Roger.

Short. Dapper. Pale hair cut so short it almost wasn’t there. Little glasses. A sweet smile.

Steve hated him on sight, but he put on his “tell no secrets” expression and waited. He had a feeling the man really didn’t want to talk to him, and especially didn’t want to attract the notice of a cop. All the more reason to make sure this stranger did talk to them.

“You’re a long ways from home,” Steve said, making a passing gesture at the car.

The man looked back at the vehicle, then focused on Steve. “Ah. Yes, I am. A business trip to several cities in the Northeast Region. I was going to visit Talulah Falls—I’ve heard so much about the waterfalls there. But apparently there’s been some trouble, and no one but residents are allowed entrance?”

Light voice. Easy to dismiss and yet oddly mesmerizing. A voice that whispered trust me underneath the spoken words.

“Television news stations in the Midwest didn’t report on it?” Steve asked.

“I haven’t paid much attention. Sometimes such things distract one from what is important. I was hoping to speak to someone in authority. Could either of you gentlemen point me in the right direction?”

“No need to point.” The space between Steve’s shoulder blades twitched and twinged. “I am the mayor of this fine village, and my friend here is with the police.” He waited a beat. “And who might you be?”

“Phineas Jones.”

Wishing he were wearing gloves and wouldn’t have to touch that skin, Steve looked at the extended hand a moment too long before completing the handshake.

“What business are you in, Mr. Jones?” Roger asked.

“I’m more a representative of a philanthropic endeavor than a business,” Jones replied.

“There aren’t enough people in the Midwest interested in this philanthropic endeavor, so you have to drive all the way up here? That’s a lot of miles to travel and gas coupons to use for a might-be-maybe venture.” Roger scratched his head, then resettled his hat. “Of course, you might have a couple of interested parties lined up already that would make the expense worthwhile.”

A heavy silence. Jones’s sweet smile didn’t change, but it somehow seemed colder.

Right on target, Roger, Steve thought.

“I’m a specialist in a very particular field,” Jones finally said. “And while I had intended to visit the Falls and see this natural wonder for myself, I’m here in Ferryman’s Landing because … Well, to put it delicately, I had heard that a girl took her own life last year because of an addiction to cutting her skin. Some parents insist that girls will outgrow this behavior and don’t take steps to get their child the professional help she needs. Studies have shown that if one girl is discovered displaying this behavior, there are several more in the community who are still successfully hiding their addiction. Parents may see symptoms without fully understanding what they’re seeing. Until it’s too late.”

Steve didn’t think Phineas Jones missed much, but he hoped the man couldn’t detect his uneasiness.

“I think the incident was reported incorrectly,” Steve said.

Cold, sweet smile. “Oh? How so? A girl jumped into the river and drowned last year. What can be incorrect about that?”

“Nothing, as far as it goes. Except she didn’t jump into the river. She fell into the river. Fast current here. Lots of rapids farther up. Most people who live around the water know how to swim, but the river takes one or two a year. And at least one boat each year rides the falls down to the rocks. You may have heard on the news that some fools tried to go out during foggy weather a few days ago. There are rescue boats and volunteers still down there fishing out pieces of boats and bodies. It’s a tragedy when it happens, but it does happen.”

“Perhaps I should talk to the administrators of your schools. Sometimes school personnel—”

“Mr. Jones,” Steve said pleasantly. “I think you should get back in your car and drive away. It doesn’t matter what anyone else tells you. I’m telling you this is as close as you get to any child in Ferryman’s Landing.”

“The philanthropists I represent only want to help these girls,” Jones said. “Why are you so defensive? What are you afraid of?”

Trust me. How many parents had regretted trusting that voice?

“I’m afraid of the Beargard who rule the land around here as far as Lakeside,” Steve said, his own voice turning hard. “I’m afraid of them taking offense at a stranger poking his nose where it doesn’t belong and tossing a human into the river for sport. You should have paid more attention to what was happening in Talulah Falls, Mr. Jones. This is the wrong time for you to be doing business anywhere around the Great Lakes. You need any help finding your way out of the village?”

Another heavy silence. “No,” Jones said. “No, I think I have all the information I need. Good day, gentlemen.”

They watched him walk back to his car. They watched him drive away. And Steve watched the Crows fly off to start the relay of Crowgard, Hawkgard, and Eaglegard that would track Jones’s car for as long as they could.

Finally Steve said, “Officer Czerneda?”

“Mr. Ferryman?”

“Did Phineas Jones look like a smiling shark to you?”

“Yes, he did. He certainly did.”

Steve nodded grimly. “I’d better give Simon Wolfgard another call.”

Hearing the knock, Meg opened the back door of the Liaison’s Office and stared at Merri Lee.

As part of her training, she had seen videos of women being assaulted, had studied images of battered bodies and faces. She’d even seen one of the girls in the compound punched and slapped and kicked—a girl whose skin couldn’t earn enough to justify keeping her. The Controller had recorded that session and had shown it often enough that the real experience of seeing a girl beaten to death lost much of its impact.

Much, but not all.

Those images took on an additional meaning when superimposed over the face of a friend.

“Do you feel well enough to be out?” Meg asked, stepping aside.

“Dr. Lorenzo said to take it easy for the first couple of days and then use common sense,” Merri Lee replied as she entered the back room. “It’s been a week since … the assault. I lazed around, reading books and watching movies for the first few days. Even indulged in a couple of massages. Now I’m feeling restless and want to do something useful.” She hesitated. “With A Little Bite still closed to everyone but Courtyard residents, Tess doesn’t need me right now. I offered to help Heather fill out book orders, but she’s freaked about what happened to me, and I don’t think she’ll be comfortable being around me until the bruises completely heal.”

Meg understood why Heather would be upset. Merri Lee’s face was still healing, so the black eye and bruises must have been very bad. Heather’s life was in the human part of the city, and Merri Lee’s injuries were a harsh reminder of what could happen to someone labeled a Wolf lover.

Unlike Heather, Meg didn’t have any reason to avoid Merri Lee because she didn’t have to go beyond the Courtyard and its protection.

“Do you think Tess would let us wash these containers at A Little Bite?” Meg asked, pointing to six small containers. “I’m supposed to make up sample packages of Wolf cookies, but there’s just the bathroom sink here.”

“I could take them over and wash them for you,” Merri Lee said.

“Thanks.”

A yodeling arooeeooeeoo came from the front room.

“What is that?” Merri Lee asked, looking startled.

“That,” Meg sighed, “is Skippy.”

As soon as her friend left, Meg opened the large plastic containers. Blair didn’t say she couldn’t give the youngster a cookie. She reached for a cow, then thought for a moment before taking one of the people-shaped cookies.

She walked through the office until she reached the counter in the front room. Keeping the cookie out of sight, she patted the top of the counter. “Skippy. Front paws here.”

He rushed over and plopped his paws on the counter, aquiver with juvenile enthusiasm.

She held up a finger to get his attention. “Gently,” she ordered. Then she held up the cookie.

He wasn’t grown enough to leap on the counter or over it, and he couldn’t get his brains off the cookie long enough to think about backing up to get a running start. After three failed attempts to grab the cookie, the command Meg kept giving him finally got through. The fourth time she held up the cookie, he managed to take it from her with great care.

Of course, he also managed to step on his own foot in his haste to get back to the Wolf bed and devour his treat.

Meg sighed and returned to the back room to wait for Merri Lee. One chamomile cookie wouldn’t hurt Skippy. And, really, if it actually calmed him down, she’d be doing everyone a favor, because if she had to listen to another hour of that yodeling, she was going to find the heaviest box she could lift and beat Blair over the head with it.

If Skippy had nipped one of her fingers …

The pins-and-needles feeling suddenly filling her left hand was so fierce it burned under her skin.

Skippy … and teeth.

By the time Merri Lee returned, Meg had everything set up in the bathroom. Skippy was so engrossed in his cookie, he didn’t pay any attention when Meg closed the Private door and locked it. Maybe it was just as well that Nathan wasn’t the watch Wolf this afternoon. He’d have sounded the alarm the moment she locked the door because he would know why she was trying to lock him out.

“Put those down,” Meg said as soon as Merri Lee walked into the back room. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong with your hand?” Merri Lee asked, putting the clean containers on the small round table that functioned as a dining area. “Why are you rubbing it?”

“I need to cut. I need you to write down the prophecy.”

Merri Lee took a step back. “Meg, this isn’t a good idea. I’m not qualified to—”

“Something is going to happen,” Meg cried.

“I’ll call Tess. Or Henry.”

“There’s no time!” Meg panted in an effort to stay focused. “I can’t explain how it works. Not now. But if I can’t warn them, someone will get hurt!”

“Gods above and below,” Merri Lee muttered. “Okay. All right. What do I need to do?”

“Everything is ready.” Meg rushed into the bathroom, sat on the closed toilet seat, and opened the silver razor. “Just write down everything I say. And once I make the cut, say, ‘Speak, prophet, and I will listen.’ I don’t remember the Controller saying that, but whenever Tess says it, it helps me focus.”

“Gods above and below,” Merri Lee muttered again.

Meg held the razor over her left hand, following the pins-and-needles feeling until it became a buzz centered in her little finger. Gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to slash the skin open, she made a precise cut. Still gritting her teeth, she set the razor on the sink and swallowed the need to scream as the agonizing pain that was the prelude of prophecy filled her. Then she heard the words that were a signal to speak, and pain changed to euphoria as she shared the visions that spilled from her mind as her blood dripped into the sink.

When she came back to herself, Merri Lee was staring at her.

“Wow,” Merri Lee said. “That’s fascinating to watch in a creepy sort of way.”

Meg looked away.

“Sorry. It’s just … Wow.” Merri Lee blew out a breath. “Meg, we have to call someone. Bandage up the finger first?”

“You don’t have to stay. Just give Henry the prophecy. He’ll pass it on to Simon.” It hadn’t occurred to her that a human would think watching a prophecy being spoken was creepy. Maybe all the Controller’s clients felt that way. Or was it different when you were paying lots of money to be told something about yourself?

“Of course I have to stay,” Merri Lee said briskly. She turned on the water taps, adjusting one then the other until she had the temperature she wanted. “Put your hand under the water.”

Meg let her friend wash the hand and pat it dry. Neither of them said anything while the ointment was applied and the little finger carefully bandaged.

“Call Henry or Tess,” Meg said as they left the bathroom. She would clean the razor in a minute. “Simon isn’t going to be happy about this.”

Merri Lee gave Meg an odd look. “You don’t remember anything you said, do you?”

She shook her head. “In order to remember it, the prophet has to swallow the prophecy. Not speak,” she clarified.

“And that hurts.”

“Yes.”

Merri Lee nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll call Henry.” She stopped at the doorway to the sorting room. “Meg? I’m sorry I said it was creepy to watch. It is, in a way, but I’d like to understand it better. And I’d like to help.” She paused. “I have an idea. I’ll see if Lorne sells index cards at the Three Ps.”

While Merri Lee went into the sorting room to call Henry and Lorne, Meg cleaned her razor. She wanted it out of sight before any of the Others burst through the office’s back door.

Vlad walked into HGR’s office. “Another meeting?”

Simon remained sitting behind the desk. “Humans have meetings all the time.”

“I know. How do they get anything done?”

He didn’t much care if the monkeys ever got anything done.

Tess, Henry, and Blair walked into the office.

“Close the door,” Simon said.

“This can’t be good,” Blair muttered as he closed the door.

No reason to fluff it up. “Steve Ferryman called me earlier today, after Jerry Sledgeman made the delivery of cookies. Too many Intuits had a bad feeling this morning, so they moved all the children over to the island.”

Blair nodded. “That call was the reason you wanted Nathan roaming the delivery area instead of being inside the Liaison’s Office.”

Simon nodded. “Ferryman called again a few minutes ago. A man named Phineas Jones showed up at Ferryman’s Landing.”

“Fin,” Tess said. “Ass.”

Simon nodded. “Ferryman called him a smiling shark.”

“What did this Phineas Jones want?” Vlad asked.

“He didn’t actually say it, but Ferryman thinks Jones is looking for blood prophets,” Simon replied.

“Is the shark still in Ferryman’s Landing?” Tess asked.

Simon shook his head. “Ferryman told him to be on his way. The Crowgard, Hawkgard, and Eaglegard kept watch on him all the way to Lakeside, then lost the car in traffic. We should figure that he’s gone to ground here.”

“Do we call that lieutenant?” Blair asked. “Can he hunt for Jones?”

“Doubtful,” Vlad said. “Jones isn’t an unusual name, and there are plenty of hotels, inns, and B and Bs in Lakeside. We don’t even know what this man looks like, besides being a smiling shark, which I don’t think the police will find useful.”

“Ferryman gave me a basic description, and he and Czerneda are working to get a likeness of Jones’s face made,” Simon said. “Once they have that, they’ll send the image to us and to Lieutenant Montgomery. But I don’t think we’ll have to do much hunting. We know he’s here, and there’s only one blood prophet in Lakeside.” He looked at Blair. “You get Skippy settled into the Liaison’s Office?”

“More or less,” Blair replied. “But he’s not much good as a watch Wolf.”

“Nathan won’t be far away. In two days we’ll be meeting with leaders from the Midwest, Northeast, and High Northeast. We’re going to keep the Courtyard stores closed to human customers, but I want our humans working.

Marie Hawkgard will stand watch at HGR. Nathan will roam the area around the Market Square, Liaison’s Office, and consulate.”

“So will I,” Blair growled. “Right now, Skippy’s form of attack is tripping someone in his enthusiasm to see if they have anything to eat.”

A frantic tapping on the door before John opened it and poked his head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but Merri Lee just called and said Henry or Tess should come to the Liaison’s Office right away. Meg just had a prophecy.”

Simon pushed past everyone in the room and knocked John aside in his haste to get down the stairs and out of the back door of HGR. But he wasn’t as fast as Vlad, who had opened the upstairs window, shifted to smoke, and flowed down the outside wall and over the pavement. By the time Simon caught up to him, Vlad had shifted back to human form and was opening the office’s back door.

They charged into the room together, followed by Henry, Blair, and Tess.

Merri Lee let out a startled yip and jumped away from the sitting area. She stared at the Others, then looked toward the table and said, “You weren’t kidding when you said they wouldn’t take this well.”

Simon spun toward the table. Meg sat on one of the chairs, looking a little pale. She held up her left hand, showing all of them the neat—and small—bandage on her little finger.

He wanted to tear off that bandage, wanted to see the wound and lick it clean. Wanted …

A warning growl from Henry stopped him from taking a second step toward the table.

“You’re making tea?” Tess said.

Merri Lee nodded. “Peppermint for me and chamomile for Meg.”

“I’ll finish it. You sit down.”

When Merri Lee didn’t move, Simon stepped back as much as he could with Blair and Henry standing behind him.

“You all right, Meg?” Vlad asked.

She nodded, then looked at Merri Lee as she touched the pad of paper on the table and the stack of index cards. “Tell them.”

Merri Lee slipped into the other chair. “I wasn’t sure how this is usually done, so I made extra notes.”

“Words first,” Henry said.

Merri Lee looked at her list. “Teeth. No! Sandwich. Skull and crossbones. Broom. Bright frogs. Arm. Shark. Teakettle.”

Simon swallowed the desire to snarl, howl, and otherwise express displeasure and frustration. Cryptic nonsense. And what wasn’t cryptic were the two items that had shown up in other prophecies—and at least one of them meant something lethal.

Tess brought the mugs of tea to the table. She stared at the pad of paper, then at the index cards. “What are these little drawings?”

“Associations,” Merri Lee said. “It wasn’t just the words. Meg made gestures that seemed connected to the words. It reminded me of a picture game I used to play as a kid. You tried to make a story out of the pictures on the cards, and you could rearrange the order three times to create the best story.”

Tess spread out the index cards to reveal all the drawings. Then she took the pad of paper and brought it over to the rest of the Others.

Simon looked at the first index card and snarled at the cartoony Wolf head that had some kind of symbol over its bared teeth. He knew by the way Merri Lee hunched into herself that snarling right now wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“No teeth?” Vlad said.

“No biting,” Merri Lee replied. “The circle and line symbol means ‘do not’ or ‘no,’ and after Meg said ‘teeth’ and ‘no!’ she mimicked biting something.”

“I did?” Meg looked startled.

“You said to write down the words, but I figured the gestures were important too. So that seemed like it meant no biting.” Merri Lee tapped the index card that had the cartoony Wolf head with the “no” symbol drawn over its muzzle.

“Skull and crossbones means poison,” Tess said, as Merri Lee put the index card with that symbol after the cartoony Wolf. “We know that from when Meg’s prophecy saved the ponies.” She stared at the list. “Sandwich? That doesn’t sound threatening. Neither does arm.”

Fur sprang up on Simon’s shoulders and back. Had to stay human. Had to stay in control. Had to listen and not yell about Meg not calling him.

“Every time she said ‘sandwich,’ Meg mimicked spreading something on her arm,” Merri Lee said, laying the “sandwich” and “arm” cards after the “poison” card. “But sandwich doesn’t necessarily mean food. It could mean something in layers if the visions aren’t always literal.”

“I don’t know,” Meg said when they all looked at her. “I wasn’t part of deciphering the visions, so I don’t know how it worked.”

“Frogs?” Tess asked.

Merri Lee glanced at Meg and nudged the index card with a frog into position. “When I went into the sorting room to phone Henry, I saw a magazine on the counter. It was open to a picture of frogs.”

Vlad disappeared and returned with the magazine. As he quickly skimmed the article, he looked grim. “Poisonous. Lethal. A defense against predators because devouring them kills you. Montgomery mentioned poisonous frogs killing their attackers.”

Leaning over the table, Henry repositioned the frog card after the skull and crossbones.

“Can’t put poison on your own skin,” Simon said. “You would kill yourself doing that, wouldn’t you?”

“Sandwich.” Tess held her hands one above the other with a little space between. “Two protective layers with poison spread in between?”

They all looked at the story made from the drawings on the index cards. Then they looked at Meg.

“The girls are tied to the chair for cutting, so I don’t think I acted things out before,” Meg said. “I don’t remember doing it now. But the cards …” She touched an index card. “The Controller could have done something like this, arranging pictures until a sequence had meaning to the client.”

“Maybe the shark is doing the biting and ‘no’ is a warning?” Merri Lee said. “Meg didn’t mention a Wolf, just the shark and frog, and frogs don’t bite. At least, I don’t think they do.”

She didn’t have to mention a Wolf, Simon thought. Meg knows who would be most likely to bite an intruder. And so does Merri Lee. “Steve Ferryman called me. We know the shark is a human named Phineas Jones.”

“We do?” Meg gasped.

Ignoring her, Simon put the simple drawing of an oval with a fin and tail after the other cards.

“What if we rearrange the pictures, see if there is another story?” Henry said.

Henry put the index cards in a different order. Merri Lee reached out, hesitated, then changed the order of a couple of them.

Henry nodded. “That’s a story. Don’t bite the shark who has a sandwich of poison on his arm.”

“What about the broom and teakettle?” Simon asked.

Merri Lee shook her head and set those two index cards apart from the rest. “No clue. Except I think they go together somehow.”

Simon hadn’t noticed Blair had left the room until the enforcer returned, holding up half a cookie and scowling at Meg.

“What did you give Skippy?” Blair demanded.

“I wanted him to calm down, so I gave him a chamomile cookie,” Meg said, narrowing her eyes at Blair. “It was either that or bite you for leaving the singing Wolf here.”

If she were anyone else, she’d get nipped for sounding so uppity, Simon thought. “Something wrong?” he asked Blair.

“Damn Wolf is in the front room snoring,” Blair growled. “Doesn’t have any idea we’re here. Which isn’t helpful since he’s supposed to be the watch Wolf.” That last part was directed at Meg.

“I’ll make a note for the bakery that the chamomile cookies are a little too strong,” Meg said. “And too big. I didn’t mean to knock him out, just calm him down a little.”

Simon studied the two women. Meg and Merri Lee had done well working together to reveal this prophecy, and using the index cards was a clever way to share the images Meg saw in the visions. But the girls should have told him before Meg made the cut. After all, Meg was his friend, so he should have been told. Which was why, instead of praising them, he growled, “Can the two of you manage to stay out of trouble for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Oh, Simon,” Tess muttered.

Henry’s hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, almost buckling his knees.

“Our Meg did stay out of trouble,” Henry said. “Her friend was with her to watch and to help. They saw much, and lives will be saved because of what we know from the visions.”

“Maybe you should go home and rest,” Simon told Meg. Maybe he could go home with her and they could cuddle for a while or play a game. Or she could watch a movie and pet him.

“Merri Lee is helping me make some sample packages of cookies,” Meg said, sounding like the only game she wanted to play right now was whack a Wolf.

A warning rumble meant it was time to go before Henry decided he needed a friendly reminder to leave. The Grizzly’s reminders tended to hurt.

Simon tore off the pages that held the prophecy, dropped the pad on the table, and walked out. Then he waited for Vlad and the others to join him outside.

“All right,” Blair grumbled. “I wouldn’t mind having some of those chamomile cookies to give to the youngsters when it’s time to sleep, but a watch Wolf is supposed to be awake enough to watch, even if he is a skippy.”

“Have Nathan come back for the last hour,” Simon said.

“Those two females aren’t having anyone as friendly as Nathan watching over them.” Meaning the dominant enforcer planned to park himself in the office for the rest of Meg’s shift.

“I don’t like our Meg having this prophecy now,” Henry said. “Is there a connection to so many leaders coming to Lakeside and this shark suddenly appearing in our territory?”

“If he’s here hunting for a blood prophet, the connection is Meg,” Vlad said. “She’s the reason Simon called this meeting.”

“I wonder if the enemy isn’t also guided by prophecy,” Vlad said. “Wouldn’t you use a cassandra sangue to find out the best time to strike out at us?”

“When this Phineas Jones comes to the Courtyard, he’ll have a defense that will kill us if we respond to a threat in the usual way,” Simon said.

“Then we use human weapons instead of teeth,” Henry said. “No matter how it’s done, we make sure Jones doesn’t leave here with Meg.”

Simon nodded. “He’s not taking Meg.”

“Hello?”

“The Others are making free use of your property.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not only using the property for themselves, but providing samples to other interested parties. I had an excellent lead and should have been able to acquire some new merchandise, but the deal was soured before I arrived. They were expecting me.”

“Where was this? Lakeside?”

“No, a place called Ferryman’s Landing. I’m in Lakeside now. I’ll wait a couple of days and let things settle. Then I’ll see what I can do about extracting your property.”