Murder of Crows

CHAPTER 3

Late Windsday morning, Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery parked the patrol car in the Courtyard’s customer lot, got out, and breathed in air that still had the bite of deep winter. That wasn’t surprising, considering the storm that had savaged the city of Lakeside at the beginning of the month—a storm that had proved to everyone living here that the shape-shifters and vampires who were the public face of the Courtyard were not the most dangerous terra indigene in residence. Enraged by the attack on the Courtyard and the death of one of their steeds, the Elementals, led by Winter, had unleashed their fury on the city and its residents in what newspapers and television newscasts had called the storm of the century.

Some buildings had been damaged or destroyed in that storm. Some people had been injured and a few had died. Whole sections of the city had been without power for days, and people had struggled to stay warm and fed while Lakeside was locked in by a record snowfall and slabs of ice that blocked all the roads out of the city.

Having spent every spare moment over the past two weeks reading up on towns that had been destroyed after a conflict with the Others, Monty knew the storm and the consequences could have been much, much worse. He wasn’t sure whom Meg Corbyn had talked to or what she’d said, but he would bet a month’s pay that she was the reason the ice slabs simply melted away one night, allowing needed supplies into the city. She had warned the Others of a poison that had been intended for the Elementals’ steeds. She had saved Simon Wolfgard’s nephew Sam during the attack on the Courtyard. She had won the trust of beings who rarely, if ever, trusted humans.

On the other hand, because she had been the attackers’ intended target, she had been indirectly responsible for the storm that crippled Lakeside, as well as the deaths of Lakeside’s mayor and the governor of the Northeast Region. But that was something only a handful of people knew. For everyone else, the official story was that a group of outsiders had come to Lakeside with the intention of stirring up trouble and had provoked the Others’ attack when they blew up part of the Courtyard’s Utilities Complex and killed several terra indigene. Since all the news reports made it clear that humans had started the trouble, there had been a wait-and-see truce between Lakeside’s citizens and the Others these past couple of weeks.

Maybe people were too busy making repairs to their homes and businesses and just wanted to get back to their lives. Or maybe they were making an effort to steer clear of the beings who ruled the continent of Thaisia. And not just Thaisia. The terra indigene ruled most of the world. As far as they were concerned, humans were another kind of meat, and the only difference between people and deer was that people invented and manufactured products that at least some of the Others enjoyed having. That was the only reason the Others in Thaisia leased tracts of land where humans could live and grow food, and supplied people with the resources needed to manufacture products. But people were still meat the moment they did something the terra indigene didn’t like.

That wasn’t an easy truth to swallow at the best of times, and given the information he was about to share with Simon Wolfgard, today was not going to be the best of times.

Monty walked past the seamstress/tailor’s shop and A Little Bite, the coffee shop that was one of the few Courtyard stores open to the general human population of Lakeside. When he reached Howling Good Reads, the bookstore run by Simon Wolfgard and Vladimir Sanguinati, he ignored the Residents Only sign and rapped on the door.

Simon approached the door and stared at Monty for a little too long, giving the police officer time to consider the contrast between the two of them. Wolfgard looked like a trim man in his mid-thirties with a handsome face and dark hair that was cut to match the persona of a business owner. Most of the time, he easily passed for human. Except for his eyes. The amber eyes never let you forget you were looking at a terra indigene Wolf, a predator—especially now that Wolfgard had given up wearing the wire-rimmed glasses that had been an attempt to make him look less dangerous. Monty, on the other hand, was a dark-skinned human of medium height who stayed trim only with effort. He hadn’t reached forty yet, but his short curly hair already showed some gray, and there were lines on his face that hadn’t been there a few months ago.

Finally Simon unlocked the door, and Monty slipped inside the store.

“Not open to human customers today?” Monty asked as Simon locked the door again.

“No,” Simon replied curtly. He limped over to a cart full of books and began redoing the display table in the front of the store.

Monty nodded to the young woman behind the checkout counter, one of the humans the Courtyard employed. “Ms. Houghton.”

“Lieutenant,” Heather replied.

She looked scared, and when she tipped her head toward Simon in a “pay attention to him, there’s something going on” sort of way, Monty wondered if the Courtyard’s residents had already heard the news or if Heather had another reason to be afraid.

After observing Simon for a moment, he said in a conversational tone, “Did you injure your leg?”

Simon slammed a book down on the table and snarled. “She kicked me off the bed! She was having a bad dream, so I tried to wake her up, and she kicked me off the bed.”

Monty didn’t have to ask who she was. He noticed that Heather, now staring at the Wolf with wide eyes, didn’t ask either.

“And then she acts and smells all bunny-weird about me being there in human form.” Simon dumped more books on the table. One slid off and hit the floor. The Wolf didn’t notice. “What difference does it make if I’m furry or not?” He pointed at Heather, and the look in his eyes made it clear he expected an answer.

“Aaaaahhhh,” she said, glancing at Monty. “Weeeellllll. When my mom takes a nap, our cat curls up with her, and my dad doesn’t care. But I don’t think he’d like it if the cat suddenly turned into a man.”

“Why?” Simon demanded. “The cat would just be a cat in a different form.”

Heather made a funny sound and didn’t answer.

Monty quietly cleared his throat before he said, “A form that would be able to have sex with a human female.”

“I didn’t want sex!” Simon shouted. “I just wanted my share of the covers.” A hot and hostile look at Heather. “Females are peculiar.”

Oh, geez, Monty thought as he watched Heather’s eyes fill with tears.

“I’m going to pull some stock for these orders.” Heather sniffed, then hurried toward the stockroom at the back of the store.

“If you try to quit, I will eat you!” Simon yelled.

The only reply was the sound of a door slamming.

Simon stared at the display, which was nothing but a sloppy pile of books. Then he looked at Monty and snarled, “What do you want?”

No, this wasn’t the best time for what he’d come to talk about, but he needed any information Wolfgard would give him, and by sharing what he knew, he hoped to spare Lakeside from another display of terra indigene rage.

“Have you listened to the radio or television today?” Monty asked. “Have you heard about what happened in Walnut Grove early this morning?”

Simon didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe. “Were Crows murdered?”

“Some birds were killed,” Monty replied carefully. “Captain Burke didn’t receive many details from his contact in the Walnut Grove police force, so I can’t tell you if the birds were crows or Crows.” He hesitated. “Ms. Corbyn had a dream about this?” Or had she done more than dream? Had she taken the razor and cut her skin in order to speak words of prophecy?

“She dreamed about blood and broken black feathers in the snow.” Simon growled and gave Monty a challenging look. “She didn’t make a cut. I would have smelled blood if she’d made a cut.”

Were prophetic dreams normal for a blood prophet, or was this a sign that Meg’s mental stability was unraveling? Not something he could discuss today. At least, not with Simon Wolfgard.

“Did your Captain Burke hear anything else?” Simon asked.

Are you wondering about something in particular? Monty thought. “It appears two hunting dogs attacked the birds. They might have gotten out of their yard by accident and simply acted on instinct, but a teenage girl was also killed.” The mother, father, and younger sister of one of the boys who had been present when the dogs attacked had also been killed. But he didn’t think Wolfgard would be interested in a girl shooting a family unless it circled back to whatever had happened to the birds.

Simon stared out the bookstore’s front windows. “Haven’t seen a Crow this morning. Haven’t heard a Crow this morning.” Going behind the checkout counter, he picked up the phone and dialed. After a few seconds he muttered, “Busy signal, what a surprise,” hung up, and dialed another number. “Jenni? It’s Simon. I want to talk to you. Now.”

Monty could hear Jenni Crowgard’s protest from where he stood, so Simon had certainly heard it. The Wolf hung up anyway.

Elliot Wolfgard ran the consulate and was the public face for the Courtyard, the earth native who talked to the mayor and dealt with Lakeside’s government. But Simon Wolfgard was the actual leader of this Courtyard, and no one here challenged the leader. Except, perhaps, the Grizzly who also lived here. And the Elementals, who answered to no one.

“You will not talk to Meg about this,” Simon said. “Not yet.”

Monty wanted to ask Meg about her dream before it became fogged by whatever images she heard or saw on the news. But he didn’t argue, and he knew he’d made the right choice when he nodded agreement and Simon relaxed a little.

“If any of the Crowgard know anything about the deaths, I’ll call you,” Simon said.

“Thank you,” Monty replied. “The police in Walnut Grove are running tests on the dogs and the birds. It’s likely that every police force in the northeastern part of Thaisia will be informed of the results. As soon as I know anything, I will tell you. Frankly, Mr. Wolfgard, we’re all hoping the dogs had been riled up and the birds just weren’t quick enough to get away.” The girl certainly hadn’t been quick enough. “If that’s not the case …” He didn’t want to say it.

Simon wasn’t hesitant to finish it. “It could be the first sign of sickness in the Northeast Region. It could be the same sickness that caused trouble in the Midwest Region and provoked the fight in Jerzy last month.”

Not a sickness but a drug, Monty thought. And fight was a small word for the slaughter of one-third of that village’s population. But whether it was a sickness or a drug was a subject he would address once the police in Walnut Grove had the test results back, because he was pretty sure Simon had been dosed with the same drug the night of the storm. It was the only thing that could explain the excessive aggression the Wolf had displayed when Meg was brought to the hospital.

“Officer Kowalski was in Run and Thump earlier, running on the treadmill and using some of the weight machines, but I think he went up to the apartments,” Simon said.

As thanks for Monty and his team protecting Meg while she was in the hospital, the Others gave the team use of one of the efficiency apartments above the seamstress/tailor’s shop. With the water tax being what it was, for someone like Karl Kowalski, taking a shower away from home a couple of times a week was a benefit that couldn’t be ignored.

“He doesn’t usually use our fitness center in the mornings.” Simon gave Monty a questioning look, confirming that the Wolf knew the work schedule of Monty’s team almost better than Monty did. It also confirmed that the Others didn’t ignore anything that changed the routine of anyone who dealt with them.

“He took a couple of hours’ personal time today,” Monty said. Wolfgard didn’t need to know that Captain Burke considered personal time spent in the Courtyard as on-duty time since dealing with the Others was dangerous even under the best circumstances.

“Dr. Lorenzo is sniffing around the medical office in the Market Square,” Simon added.

“Then I’ll say hello to the doctor before I pick up Officer Kowalski,” Monty said.

Simon returned to the display, acting as if Monty were no longer there. But he said, “Go out the back door. It will be quicker.”

Something else Wolfgard wouldn’t have considered offering a few weeks ago, Monty thought as he went through the stockroom to HGR’s back door. He had no illusions that the Others thought of humans as allies, let alone equals. Humans were still clever meat. But this was the first Courtyard to be so accessible to humans since … well, since humans crossed the Atlantik Ocean centuries ago and made their first bargains with the terra indigene on this continent.

He just hoped that accessibility remained after Simon figured out he’d been dosed with the drug known as gone over wolf.

Jenni Crowgard walked into the front part of Howling Good Reads wearing nothing but a winter coat that smelled like Heather and covered the Crow’s bare legs to midthigh.

Simon studied her. Usually cheerful and curious, she seemed wary this morning.

“You’ve heard something,” he said.

It wasn’t a question. Every kind of terra indigene had its own strengths. While some called them gossips, few things sent information from one place to another faster than the Crowgard. Even now, the only thing faster than the Crows was the telephone humans had invented a few decades ago. And the computers, since Vlad said you could send the same message to a lot of people.

“Walnut Grove,” he prompted, watching her.

Jenni wrapped her arms around herself. “Something bad. Not sure what. Don’t know why.”

She knew things about the what and the why—things he was sure the human news didn’t know yet. Piece by piece, he got it out of her. Fresh food in the snow, a temptation at this time of year. Young crows and Crows flying in to grab a bite. Then dogs and death and many humans.

“Meg had a dream about Crows this morning,” he said after Jenni told him what she knew. “It scared her a lot.”

Jenni frowned. “Why would our Meg dream about Walnut Grove?”

“No reason for her to dream about the Courtyard there—unless it’s a warning for us.” He stared at Jenni until she squirmed. “You and your sisters and the rest of the Crowgard in Lakeside need to be careful. Walnut Grove is about one hundred fifty miles south of this city. If the sickness that touched humans and Others in the Midwest and in Jerzy on the West Coast has reached this part of Thaisia, we all need to be careful. It’s easy enough to travel to Walnut Grove by train. It’s easy enough for the sickness to travel back to Lakeside with someone.”

“We’ll be careful.”

“If you see Meg rubbing her arms the way she does when visions start prickling under her skin, you tell me. And you pay attention to anything she says.”

“I’ll pay attention,” Jenni promised. “Even if what our Meg says isn’t about Crows.”

Choosing to be satisfied with that, Simon sent her on her way and went back to arranging the display of new books. There had been a noticeable lack of customers since the storm, despite the unprecedented assistance the Others had given to some of the humans who had been stranded.

They’ll come back or they won’t, Simon thought as he read the back copy on a couple of books and set them aside for himself. And today we don’t want unfamiliar monkeys in the Courtyard anyway.

Hearing the rattle of wheels, he turned and watched Heather push a cart up to the checkout counter. The Lakeside Courtyard supplied goods to all the terra indigene living in the surrounding wild country. What HGR had lacked in human customers lately was more than balanced by the number of book orders sent in from all the settlements.

“You going to work on the orders?” he asked. She’d said she was when she went into the back for stock, so he was just trying to be polite and make up for snarling at her earlier.

Heather didn’t answer him. She just gave him A Look.

Grunting, Simon went back to arranging books. A bunny trying to intimidate a Wolf? How ludicrous!

As that thought took hold, he moved so he could watch her while he arranged books. Just how often these days did Heather remind him of a bunny? That comparison had always been there, an assessment of personality as well as how she responded to the Others. But he realized that he thought of her that way more often since the storm.

Something had changed in many of the humans who worked in the Courtyard. Some, like Lorne, who ran the Three Ps—the shop for paper, printing, and postage—went on as they had before. Other humans, like Merri Lee, were showing some Wolf in their personalities and, while still sensibly cautious, were more determined to work with the terra indigene. And others, like Heather, had become too aware that they would never be the predators.

He couldn’t fire her for being a bunny. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to. For one thing, he would lose a good worker. For another, it would be a hardship for her if she couldn’t find another job right away, and that would make Meg and the human pack unhappy. He didn’t want Meg to be unhappy.

Stifling a sigh, Simon forced his attention back to the display of books.

It didn’t matter if he had human customers or not. As long as Meg and her pack were in the Courtyard, he still had plenty of human behavior to study and puzzle over.

Monty found Dominic Lorenzo walking through a first-floor office space in the Market Square.

“Dr. Lorenzo.”

“Lieutenant Montgomery.”

“So you’re serious about opening an office in the Courtyard? I had the impression that you didn’t think that well of the Others.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Lorenzo replied. “But there isn’t another doctor anywhere on this continent who has the opportunity to interact this closely with the terra indigene. I’ve checked.”

“And being able to interact with a blood prophet?” Monty asked softly.

Lorenzo looked him in the eyes. “That was a big part of the reason I proposed an office here and want to be the doctor in residence, so to speak.”

“You’re giving up your work at the hospital?”

“No. I talked to the hospital administrators after the Others lifted the water tax as thanks for caring for Meg Corbyn. That’s a substantial savings.”

Monty nodded. “They lifted the water tax on the Chestnut Street Police Station too.”

“While there is plenty of concern about having the Others around sick or injured people, it can’t be denied that having a hospital that is willing to provide care to any Courtyard resident could make a big difference for all of us in the future. As you pointed out to me during the storm. Right now I’m proposing to have office hours here a couple of mornings a week.”

Winter had made Meg’s recovery a condition of the storm ending, and Lorenzo, despite his reservations about the Others, had given the Human Liaison the very best care possible. In a real sense, the doctor’s actions had saved everyone in the city.

“Basic medicine,” Lorenzo said, sweeping a hand to indicate the office. “The Courtyard’s Business Association is willing to purchase any additional equipment that’s needed, although I don’t think much will be required for the kind of medical care I have in mind. They are being stubborn about my having a nurse to assist or an office manager to help with paperwork.” He gave Monty a speculative look. “Anything you could do about that?”

Monty shook his head, then thought about it. “They have some kind of healers here already, don’t they? Maybe one of them could assist you and learn a bit about human medicine in the bargain. And isn’t there a massage therapist using part of this office space?” He’d seen the Good Hands Massage sign next to the door.

“Yes, she uses one of the rooms for her work. I don’t think she has many clients here, so her hours are limited.”

“You could inquire how she handles appointments. Maybe the Business Association would agree to hiring one administrative assistant for the two of you, someone to make appointments and handle the paperwork.”

“It’s a possibility,” Lorenzo said. “I’ll add that to my notes. I’m making a formal presentation to the Business Association and the consul tomorrow.”

Monty finally broached the main reason he’d wanted to see Lorenzo. “You’ve dealt with cassandra sangue before. As soon as you saw Ms. Corbyn’s scars, you knew what she was.”

“I’ve seen girls like her before.” Lorenzo gave Monty a long look. “Meg Corbyn is healthier and saner than the girls I treated when I was a resident. Wherever she was before she came here, they knew how to take care of girls like her.”

“From what I was told, that care included forced lessons, forced cutting, and no chance or choice to experience life. The girls were kept safe, yes, but they were used for someone else’s profit.”

“I was told pretty much the same thing when the Wolf allowed me to ask Ms. Corbyn a few questions while she was in the hospital,” Lorenzo replied. “But even the girls I saw before were in a controlled environment, a privately run house that was an annex to a school. I’m not sure cassandra sangue can survive without someone else controlling their lives. Even with supervision, too many of them cut themselves into death or madness.” He paused. “There is a group of humans out there who are a danger to themselves, and I want to help. With the kind of care these girls need, someone has to know how to handle them and their addiction to cutting. But there is too little information available.”

“The lack of information would help discourage people from establishing group homes and trying to cope with the girls,” Monty said. “I imagine several good-intentioned facilities have closed down over the years because of deaths caused from cutting.” That was something he could check when he returned to the station.

Lorenzo nodded. “Having a chance to interact with Meg Corbyn could be the first step in finding a way for all of these girls to have longer and healthier lives.”

After wishing Lorenzo good luck with the meeting tomorrow, Monty took his leave, pulled out his mobile phone, and called Kowalski. After confirming that the younger man would meet him, he headed for the coffee shop.

Using the back entrance, he walked in and greeted Tess, the terra indigene who ran A Little Bite. As he watched her arranging plates of cookies and pastries in the glass display case, he wondered if anyone would come in to buy them.

“What happens to the food that’s left at the end of the day?” he asked.

“Usually what can’t be kept for the next day is passed along,” Tess replied. “Meat-n-Greens gets some of it to include in the evening meals served there. The rest is divided among the gards and taken back to the complexes for anyone who wants the food.”

Footsteps coming from the back of the store.

Tess lowered her voice. “And on a residents-only day like today, terra indigene who have been curious about what it’s like to be in a coffee shop will venture in for the experience.”

How many of the Others living in the Courtyard wouldn’t come to the coffee shop because it was open to humans? Did they resent the human employees who worked in the Market Square and were allowed to shop there? Or was it a case of numbers? A handful of humans posed no danger and therefore could be tolerated, but a shop filled with humans was a place to avoid?

Did the terra indigene who lived and worked in the Courtyards feel the pressure of being surrounded by an enemy day after day? Or did they find relief in knowing at least some of their kind would always survive a conflict simply because they were so devastatingly lethal?

And what did that say about Simon Wolfgard’s unprecedented decision to allow even a few humans beyond the Human Liaison to interact with the Others living in the Courtyard?

He saw them enter the main part of the coffee shop—six males and two females. Based on general rules of coloring, three males had the amber eyes of the Wolves, one male and one female had the black hair and eyes of the Crows, and he couldn’t tell whether the rest were Hawks or Owls or a kind of earth native he hadn’t seen before.

“I won’t disturb your guests,” Monty said quietly. “I’ll wait for Officer Kowalski outside.”

“Stay,” Tess said. It was more command than request.

Monty hesitated a moment, then, with a nod to the group still huddled near the back hallway, he took a seat at a table close to the archway leading into Howling Good Reads.

Tess pointed at the other tables. “Sit.”

Wary, always watching him, they split up and sat at tables that were the farthest they could get from him. And all of them chose chairs that kept him in sight.

Kowalski opened the front door and came in. He gave the Others a startled glance, confirming Monty’s suspicion that these terra indigene weren’t usually seen by the humans who were allowed in the Courtyard. Giving them all a nod, Kowalski joined his lieutenant.

Tess brought a tray to their table. She set out two mugs of coffee, along with a small bowl of sugar and a little pitcher of cream. She also gave them silverware and napkins. Then she handed them both a sheet of heavy paper that had a printed menu.

No doubt intending to make a comment about being given a menu, Kowalski opened his mouth, took one look at Tess’s hair, which suddenly had green streaks and started curling, and said nothing.

“Our sandwiches today are sliced beef or chicken. I also have a quiche with a side of fresh fruit,” Tess said. “Those are in addition to our usual menu.”

We’re a demonstration, Monty realized. A live training film showing what to do in a particular situation. That’s why Tess wanted us to stay. “I’ll have the quiche and fresh fruit.”

When Tess looked at Kowalski, Karl said, “I’d like the beef sandwich.”

“Would you like a side of fresh fruit with that?” Tess asked.

“Yes, please.”

Merri Lee came out of the back and slipped behind the counter. The human woman looked a little bruised around the eyes. Could be nothing more than lack of sleep. Like Heather Houghton, Merri Lee was a student at Lakeside University, and Monty remembered the late nights of studying for a test or writing a paper that was due the next day.

So it could be nothing more than lack of sleep. Or it could be something else. Since Karl was making an effort not to notice, he would find out later if his officer had heard something.

Tess took the orders from the terra indigene, then helped Merri Lee get everyone served.

They watched him, those Wolves and Crows and the rest. They watched how he spread a napkin on his lap, then, after a moment’s hesitation, did the same thing. They watched what utensil he used and what, like Karl’s sandwich, could be eaten with hands. They watched Merri Lee walking around the tables, refilling coffee mugs and water glasses.

They watched, and as he listened to Karl chatting about the workout equipment at Run & Thump and the new book his fiancée, Ruth, was waiting for, Monty slowly realized these terra indigene weren’t from the Courtyard. At least, not this Courtyard. Maybe they’d made some of the deliveries of meat and produce and had decided to stop in the coffee shop before heading home. Maybe they were here for a meeting with Simon Wolfgard. Maybe they had come in from a settlement in the wild country that had little or no contact with humans.

Whoever they were and wherever they came from, it wasn’t just the coffee shop that was a new experience for them. Just being around a human was something they’d never done before. At least, it wasn’t something they’d done when they weren’t intending to kill and eat the human. Now here they were, drinking coffee and consuming pastries and sandwiches while responding to Merri Lee’s friendly comments with stiff, precise words, like travelers who used a foreign-language phrase book to communicate.

Would they go to Howling Good Reads next and purchase books to learn how to use human money?

For the first time since he started coming into A Little Bite, Tess gave them a bill. Feeling more and more like an actor in a play, Monty pulled out his wallet, refusing Kowalski’s offer to pay for half. Tess brought back the change, and he and Karl discussed the correct percentage for a tip. They didn’t raise their voices. In fact, he spoke more softly than usual. But he knew every one of the terra indigene heard what they said and filed it away.

It was a relief to leave and get into the patrol car. Kowalski started the car but didn’t put it in gear.

“That was weird,” Kowalski said. “I remember my dad taking a bunch of us kids to an ice-cream parlor and doing much the same thing, talking about tips and reminding us of the correct behavior we’d discussed on the way to the shop. Only, none of the kids he was teaching could have bitten his arms off if they didn’t like what he said.”

“Have you ever wondered how the Others choose the teachers who show them how to be human?” Monty asked.

Karl gave him a wary look. “They’re never human, Lieutenant. They just mimic us to get what they want.”

Monty nodded. “Yes. They mimic. And you’re right. They will never be human. But it occurred to me that who the Others choose as a template determines if they mimic the best or the worst of what it means to be human.”

Karl sighed. “I guess that makes us templates.”

“Yes, it does,” Monty agreed. “And that makes me hopeful for all of us.”

As they pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the Chestnut Street station, Monty wondered if the visitors at the Courtyard were somehow connected to the deaths in Walnut Grove.

Meg gathered the rags, dustpan and broom, and spray bottle of cleaner she needed to tidy up the Liaison’s Office. The novelty of cleaning had worn off after the first couple of times she’d done it on her own, but she liked the end result. Besides, a clean office equaled a mouse-free office.

The Liaison’s Office was a rectangular building divided into three big rooms. The back room had the bathroom as well as a storage room with bins full of clothes that the Others used when they shifted from fur or feathers to human. It also had a kitchen area and a small round table and two chairs. The middle room was the sorting room. It held the large rectangular table where she sorted the mail and packages that came for the businesses and residents of the Lakeside Courtyard. The front room had a three-sided counter where she talked to deliverymen and accepted packages. It also had two handcarts parked by the delivery door that opened between the front room and the sorting room. And it held Nathan Wolfgard, sprawled on the large dog bed—now called a Wolf bed—that she’d purchased as a friendly gesture toward the Wolf who had been assigned to guard her during working hours.

Meg opened the door marked PRIVATE, which gave her easy access to the front counter when she was working in the sorting room. Setting the broom and dustpan beside the door, she said brightly, “Since I’m not expecting any deliveries this morning, it’s a good time to tidy up. Maybe you’d like to take the Wolf bed outside and give it a good shake.”

Nathan raised his head just enough to give her a Wolfish stare. Then he yawned and flopped back down on the bed.

He’d do it eventually. And if she didn’t nag him about it, he might pull on some pants before he stood in the delivery area and shook out the bed in plain view of anyone walking or driving by. She didn’t think anyone actually saw much from the front—at least, Lieutenant Montgomery hadn’t called to ask about a naked man—but since the front of the office had two large windows and a glass door, she’d once seen plenty of the back of Nathan’s human form.

Based on the training images that had been her reference for the world outside the compound, Nathan had a very nice human form.

And even though she’d had only a quick look before he dove under the covers, Simon felt like he had a very nice human form.

Clean, Meg told herself. Let the hands work while the mind ponders. That’s what Merri Lee said.

She sprayed the front counter and wiped it down.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything about Simon being in human form this morning. Well, she hadn’t said anything. More like babbled for a minute when she dashed into A Little Bite for her morning coffee and a muffin. She wasn’t even sure she’d been coherent, but Merri Lee had gotten the gist of it. Hence the suggestion to do some chores while thoughts and feelings sorted themselves out.

She hoped her feelings sorted themselves out. And she hoped when they did, she would still have Simon for a friend even if she decided she didn’t want a lover.

And she didn’t want any kind of a lover right now. Did she?

She rubbed the side of her nose and sucked in a breath at the unexpected pain. Rushing into the bathroom, she studied her face … and the split in the skin on the outside of her left nostril.

An hour later, Meg leaned against the sorting room table and flipped through a magazine. When she realized she kept rubbing her arms, she closed the magazine.

Too many images. Too many new things to think about and sort out today. And she was scared that this damage to her skin was a sign of something being terribly wrong. After all, she didn’t have any real assurance that cassandra sangue could survive outside compounds like the one where she’d been kept for most of her life. Maybe girls like her couldn’t survive for long.

Don’t think about that, she scolded herself, glancing toward the Private door. Nathan had been suspiciously quiet ever since she dabbed some antiseptic ointment on the split skin and returned to the sorting room. If he’d caught a whiff of the medicine, wouldn’t he have howled about it? Wouldn’t he have barged into the sorting room to give her a sniff and find out what was wrong? Or had he chosen to be subtle for this hunt?

Many kinds of prey had perfected the art of hiding sickness or injury to avoid being singled out when predators were hunting. Terra indigene Wolves had perfected the art of recognizing what prey tried to hide. So Meg wasn’t really surprised when Henry Beargard appeared in the doorway between the back room and the sorting room.

Apparently Nathan had decided to tell Henry about the medicine smell rather than howl about it himself.

“How are you, Meg?” Henry asked in his rumbly voice.

“I’m fine,” she lied. Wolves could smell fear. So could a Grizzly.

As he crossed the room to stand near the sorting table, he ran a big hand through shoulder-length, shaggy brown hair. The brown eyes that studied her were a reminder that Henry was, among other things, the Courtyard’s spirit guide.

He sniffed the air, but he didn’t comment about the scent of medicine. Instead, he said, “I heard you kicked Simon out of bed.”

She sighed. Since she’d sort of told Merri Lee, she couldn’t fault Simon for saying something. But what had felt like a natural friendship a couple of days ago now seemed so complicated. “I had a bad dream. Simon told you about the dream?” She waited for Henry’s nod. “I was kicking at something in the dream but Simon got in the way and fell off the bed. But I didn’t deliberately kick him out of bed. Off the bed. Whatever.” She paused. “He’s mad about it?”

“He’s limping, and everyone asks him why. It’s embarrassing for him because it’s amusing to the rest of us.”

“Well, he shouldn’t poke me with his nose when I’m having a bad dream!”

Henry’s booming laugh rang out. “I think he’s learned that lesson.”

At least Simon isn’t going around calling me Meg Moosekicker, she thought. Not yet anyway.

“Now,” Henry said. “Why do you smell of medicine?”

She turned her head and pointed at her nose. “My skin split. I don’t know why. I didn’t … cut it.”

“Is that why you had the dream?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s all different outside the compound. There are so many images, but I can’t catalog them and then they get jumbled and don’t have labels and sometimes I’ll be working and then I’m not working—five or ten minutes will go by while I’m just standing here not seeing anything.”

She hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t intended to tell anyone about the way her mind sometimes went blank. The Others—Simon especially—wouldn’t let her drive a BOW or do things on her own if they knew about the blackouts. And now she’d gone and told Henry, who just stood there looking at her as if she was some strange and curious thing.

“Does Simon know about this?” Henry finally asked.

She shook her head. “Do we have to talk about this now?”

A long look. “There is much to think about, so we can put this aside. For now.”

“Thanks.” The discussion was postponed, but it wouldn’t be forgotten. “Did you just come here to ask about Simon?” She knew Henry had used Simon getting kicked as the excuse to come by and find out why she smelled of medicine.

“The human bodywalker was here, looking at the office in the Market Square,” Henry said. “Maybe we should call him back, have him look at your skin.”

“Doctor,” she said quietly. “He’s called a doctor.” She shuddered, unable to hold back the fear held in the memories of her old life. “I don’t need to see him for this.”

“It bothers you to have him here.” Henry’s voice sounded like thunder that warns of an oncoming storm.

Careful, she thought. “No. Dr. Lorenzo doesn’t bother me. He seems like a nice man, and he took good care of me when I was in the hospital.”

Henry waited. Meg suspected that he could, and would, wait for hours.

“You’re letting in another human because of me. That’s why Simon is considering letting Dr. Lorenzo have an office here, isn’t it? To take care of me? But he would have access to the Market Square, could observe all of you.”

Henry smiled. “As much as humans think they learn about us, we always learn more, Meg.”

“Would he treat the other employees?”

“We can discuss that.” A silence. Then, “Why don’t you want him here?”

“The coat,” she blurted out as she tried to scratch her skin through layers of clothing. “The white coat. The Walking Names—the people who took care of the girls at the compound—wore that kind of white coat or white uniforms.”

“Then he will not wear a symbol of fear and pain when he is in the Courtyard. Meg!”

Hearing her name roared by a Grizzly startled her enough to stumble away from the table—and that had Nathan leaping up on the counter in the front room, ready to lunge through the Private doorway if she needed him.

“He will not wear the symbol of your enemy,” Henry said.

“Arroooo!”

Agreement from Nathan. It didn’t matter if he’d been paying attention to their conversation or not. No Wolf was going to argue with a Grizzly—especially when he’d called that Grizzly to help with a human.

“It’s all right.” Something relaxed inside her. Or maybe she was more focused now on saying the right thing so Nathan would get off the counter before he slipped and hurt himself. She looked at Henry, then at the Wolf. “I’m all right.”

Crisis resolved, Nathan leaped off the counter and returned to his bed. Henry left after assuring her that white coats would be forbidden.

Meg stood in the sorting room trying to block the memories of her life in the compound and convince herself that she would never have to go back there. During her midday break, she would go to HGR and find one of the horror books written by a terra indigene. Those stories scared her enough that she slept with the light on, but she also found it comforting to know how terrifying Wolves could be when they savaged a human they saw as an enemy.

Henry walked over to A Little Bite, grabbed Merri Lee, and hauled her into the back of the shop despite Tess’s furious protest.

It took a minute for both females to calm down enough to listen to him, but once they did and Merri Lee understood what he was asking, he felt better and worse. This thing with the skin wasn’t about Meg being a blood prophet; it was about Meg being human. But the Others hadn’t tried to care for a human before, and even humans found caring for someone like Meg challenging.

How could the terra indigene have known that humans had so little instinct left for taking care of themselves?

Although, to be fair, Meg had never been given the chance to care for herself.

Chapped lips. Chapped skin that could split because of cold weather, dry air, and dehydration. Rough cuticles that could split and bleed. Winter was hard on human skin, but there were face and hand creams and body lotions that would help. The brand the Others required their employees to use was available in a few human stores but very expensive, and the lotions and creams weren’t sold in the Market Square shops, where they would be more affordable.

Given a choice, Henry would have hugged a porcupine rather than listen to such enthusiasm about lotions and hand creams. Since he hadn’t been given a choice, and he had asked, he endured Merri Lee’s explanations until Tess stopped the girl.

“I’ll order enough of the products for all of you if you girls promise to explain to Meg about caring for her skin,” Tess said.

“Sure. We can talk after the Quiet Mind class tonight,” Merri Lee replied. “Ruthie and Heather will be there too.”

“There is another thing,” Henry said, looking at Tess. “Our Meg admitted that sometimes she is overwhelmed by images, that her mind goes blank. It frightens her.”

“Information overload,” Merri Lee said instantly. “When there is too much stimulus, the brain needs a rest. Happens to everyone.”

Tess said.

Henry replied. Then he said to Merri Lee, “That is something else to mention to Meg. It is unknown to her, and the experience has been frightening.”

After receiving Merri Lee’s agreement to tell Meg that overload was a common occurrence among humans, Henry escaped from the coffee shop and headed for the quiet of his studio. As he walked up the path to the studio door, he glanced over the shoulder-high brick wall that separated his yard from the delivery area in front of the Liaison’s Office. Then he stopped. The chatter about lotions and creams had been a bewildering distraction, but now he thought about all the other things he had learned that day.

There were no trucks making deliveries at the moment. That wasn’t so unusual. There were no Crows on the wall, and that was unusual. There had been Crows around the office since Meg started working for the Others. Watchers who announced the arrival of regular deliverymen and warned of the presence of strangers. He didn’t always pay attention to them since they tended to chatter as much as human females, but now he felt their absence.

Too restless to work on the wood sculptures and totems, he made a cup of tea and then called Vladimir Sanguinati, the comanager of Howling Good Reads. “Vlad? No, Meg is fine. But when Simon is feeling a little calmer, tell him that she was greatly disturbed when she spoke of doctors and white coats. It’s something we should all keep in mind.”

And later this evening, he would talk to Simon and Vlad about skin that could split enough to reveal prophecy and yet didn’t bleed.