Vision In Silver

CHAPTER 7

Thaisday, Maius 10

He looks sad, Meg thought as Simon walked into the sorting room and stopped when he realized Merri Lee and Ruth were with her. He looks angry and sad.

She rushed toward him. “What happened?” When he didn’t answer, she looked at her friends, then back at him. “Simon? What happened?”

What were you supposed to do when a friend looked angry and sad but you didn’t know why?

“You’re the Trailblazer,” Simon said. “You have answers, and we need answers.”

“He’s right,” Merri Lee said.

Meg compared Merri Lee’s face to training images. Pale. Sick. Upset.

She knows why Simon is upset. It’s because of the prophecy, because of the thing she didn’t want to tell me about.

Ruth, on the other hand, looked concerned, but she didn’t look knowing.

“This is what we figured out.” Merri Lee set a series of photographs on the sorting table. “Meg has created a framework of tangible things that acts as an anchor and keeps her from being overwhelmed by visual and auditory stimuli. The framework is a combination of big things like the sorting table and smaller things like where the CD player and the stack of CDs are placed on the counter. These are the constant things that can’t change because Meg needs to count on them being exactly where they are.”

“It’s like the furnishings in Meg’s room at the compound—,” Ruth began.

“Cells,” Meg said tightly. “They were called cells. They locked from the outside, and we only had what the Walking Names allowed us to have.”

Ruth nodded to indicate understanding. “The cells’ contents didn’t change for as long as the girl lived in the compound. We think that lack of change balanced all the new images and videos the girls were shown as part of their training to describe the visions.”

Meg didn’t add her personal bit of speculation: that the sterility of the cells made the girls want to study the images—and made them more willing to cut in order to experience some stimulus. The addiction was still there, the craving for the razor and how the euphoria made her feel. It still veiled her mind to protect her from the visions, but the euphoria didn’t feel as intense as the sensations she’d felt a few months ago. Or maybe she wanted to believe that because there were so many other kinds of pleasant stimulation now.

Something she needed to think about a while longer.

“We can’t say if it’s because of the training or simply how their brains work, but we think that, because they absorb everything around them, blood prophets suffer from information overload much faster than other people, and they zone out in order to give their minds a rest,” Merri Lee said.

Meg could tell by the way Simon’s ears had gotten a little furry and more Wolf shaped that he was listening hard to everything they were saying, but she wasn’t sure if he understood what they were saying.

“When pups are young, they have to absorb everything too in order to learn about the world,” he said. “Their constant things are the den and the pack.”

“What happens when their little brains get tired?” Merri Lee asked.

Simon narrowed his eyes at Meg. “They curl up and take a nap.”

Meg narrowed her eyes right back at him. He didn’t look impressed. “Well, humans aren’t built to take these quick little snoozes throughout the day.”

His only comment was a huffed tch sound that told all of them what he thought of that human failing.

“The point,” Ruth said, “is we tried to determine what makes up a constant and what makes something acceptable even when it changes.”

Merri Lee pointed to the photos again. “For example, a vase could have flowers or not have flowers. A vase with flowers was different, but it didn’t cause anxiety. The gate to Henry’s yard could be open or closed. There could be food in the fridge here or not. But Meg chose where she put the CDs, and if someone changes the placement, that does cause Meg to feel upset.”

“From what she told us, most days that would equal feeling a little upset,” Ruth continued. “But a little distress on top of a little distress on top of a barrage of new images might push a blood prophet to cut herself in order to relieve the emotional pressure of feeling overwhelmed.”

Simon stared at Meg and growled. “Things are always changing in the Courtyard.”

“Yes,” she said, hoping she could make him understand. Hoping he would keep his promise to let her have a life—even if having one killed her. “Every day when I make my deliveries, the Courtyard looks different. But it’s a good different, a natural different.”

“And Meg sees it as an active image,” Merri Lee said. “We think that’s part of it. By driving through the Courtyard—or walking or riding as a passenger—Meg is an active participant in a moving, changeable image. The land changes with the seasons. . . .”

“But my apartment doesn’t change,” Meg finished. “The furniture stays in the same place unless I move something.”

Simon started to scratch behind one ear. Then his face colored as he realized his ears were Wolfy. Not meeting their eyes, he shifted his ears back to human shape.

“There’s not a lot of stuff in your apartment,” he said. “Not much furniture. We don’t need much. . . .” He trailed off.

“Neither do I,” Meg said. “Neither do the other girls.”

“So . . . more Simple Life than Crow’s hoard?”

She hadn’t seen either of those things, but only one sounded soothing. “If Simple Life is more like our apartments, then, yes, like that.”

“The immediate problem is the girls living on Great Island, right?” Merri Lee asked.

Simon hesitated, then nodded, leaving Meg to wonder who else needed help.

“Whoever is looking after the girls should clear their rooms of extraneous visuals—pictures on the walls, figurines on the tables, things like that,” Ruth said. “They can take photos of all those things and make up a binder of images. Maybe allow each girl to look at the images and select a handful of items she would want in her room, then allow her to position them. But once she has ‘set’ her room, the girl’s room cannot change unless she is the one making the change.”

“Also, take a photo of each room as reference for the adults so they don’t inadvertently change something,” Merri Lee said. “Even a small difference of putting a book on a different shelf can be disorienting for these girls. Which we all learned when I moved the stack of CDs earlier today.”

“Routine,” Ruth said. “Flexibility wasn’t part of the care or training in the compound. Everything that is different is a stressor for the girls.”

“Someone could make a binder called ‘Our Village’ or ‘Ferryman’s Landing,’” Merri Lee added. “The girls can study images ahead of time, and their teacher or caretaker can discuss what else they might see, like cars moving on the street or people riding bicycles. Static images combined with a moving image. Then they can go out as an adventure, to see those things for themselves.”

Simon focused on Meg. “You didn’t have those things.”

“But I have the routine that shapes the days. And I don’t need a binder for the Courtyard because I’m familiar with most of the roads and buildings now.” She wouldn’t remind him that she hadn’t expected to survive more than a few weeks, so she had gorged on images and experiences, determined to live while she could.

And she wouldn’t tell him it was often her fear of what the scent of blood might do to predatory instincts that kept her from cutting more often than she did.

“Does that help?” she asked.

“It helps.”

“Will you tell me why you’re angry and sad?”

He glanced at Merri Lee, then looked at Meg and whined softly. “Some of the blood prophets have left the compounds. You saw them walking by themselves near roads. And some of them . . .”

Meg understood then why Merri Lee wouldn’t tell her what she’d seen that morning. “I saw images that indicated some of them would die.”

“Yes. But the terra indigene are searching for the girls now. So are the police. We’ll find them, Meg. We will find them and get them to a safe place.”

How many girls had she seen? “Where will you take them?”

“To Intuit villages or terra indigene settlements,” Simon said. “Whatever is closest to the spot where we find them.” He paused. “What should we do when we find them?”

What would have helped me if I had been alone and frightened, if I had been found by strangers?

“Images,” Meg said. Merri Lee and Ruth nodded vigorously. “Tell the girls what is happening. Tell them how they will get from where they are to where they’re being taken. We all have general images about traveling. Tell them the sequence so they can recall the training images that match. Then, if you can, show them a picture of the room that will be the safe place.”

Her arms suddenly prickled so badly they burned, but she didn’t dare rub her skin. Simon would recognize the warning of prophecy. So would Ruth and Merri Lee. They knew she shouldn’t cut again today, having cut herself this morning, and Simon was already upset. She didn’t want to think about how he would howl and growl if she pulled out the razor a second time in one day.

“I have to go,” Simon said. “The rest of the terra indigene need to know these things.”

“So do the police officers involved in rescuing the girls,” Ruth said. “You should call them too.”

He bared his teeth to show he didn’t like someone giving him an order, but the teeth stayed human size, so he must have thought Ruth was right. That was probably the real reason he growled at them and said, “You write this down for the Guide.”

Before they could protest, he walked out of the sorting room and slammed the back door as he left the office.

“Well . . . ,” Merri Lee sputtered.

“I guess we should start writing The Dimwit’s Guide to Blood Prophets,” Meg said.

After a moment, Ruth nodded. “Yes, we should. And I think we should find someone who can draw so we can add a cartoon Meg pointing out important items.”

“What?” Meg yelped.

“The cartoon Meg could be named Meg Pathfinder,” Merri Lee said. “And she could provide Trailblazer Tips that other girls would find useful.”

“I don’t think we should call it Dimwit’s,” Ruth said. “Maybe just The Blood Prophets Guide.”

“Yes,” Meg whispered. The painful buzz under her skin faded to a light prickling in her fingertips. Then that, too, was gone. “A guide for the girls as well as the people trying to help them.”

“All right.” Merri Lee clapped her hands. “Let’s see if we can use the computer in the Business Association’s room to write up these first notes. Who should we ask for permission? Vlad or Tess?”

“Whichever one we find first?” Ruth said.

“The office needs to stay open a while longer,” Meg said. “You go ahead and get started.”

“You’ll be okay here on your own?”

“Arooeeooeeoo!Arooeeooeeoo!”

Meg sighed as Skippy’s yodeling arroo sounded just outside the sorting room’s delivery doors. “I’ll be fine. I’ll walk out with you.”

“Aren’t you going to let him in?” Merri Lee asked.

“Not until I’m sure he’s not trying to sneak a mouse into the office,” Meg replied. “Especially since Nathan isn’t here to sniff them out.”

Her human friends hurried to the back door of A Little Bite. The juvenile Wolf, sans any furry toys, came into the office.

As Meg carefully filed the photos Ruth had taken for their experiment, she thought about the tone of the other girls’ voices when they talked about the Guide. Not a dismissal of whatever bad thing was happening to the other cassandra sangue, but a distraction, an effort to help.

And that was a different kind of reference. A Life Reference.

Meg labeled that audio memory “cheering up a friend.”

Standing at the upstairs window that gave him a view of the paved area behind the stores, Simon watched Merri Lee and Ruthie hurry toward A Little Bite while Steve Ferryman yapped at him over the phone.

“They didn’t say you had to remove the wallpaper from the rooms, just the extra things that make the room look too busy,” he said when Steve stopped for a moment. And why did humans put paper on walls anyway?

“Are the girls sure removing everything but essentials from the rooms won’t cause more trauma?” Steve asked.

“No, they’re not sure. But telling the blood prophet pups what to expect should help. I have to go. More calls to make.”

“Thanks for this. Really.”

Simon ended the call, then walked to the desk in HGR’s office. Pointless to write e-mail. The packs would be out searching. Probably pointless to call and leave messages on the phones. But some Wolves did put on a collar that had a leather pouch attached in order to carry a mobile phone or some other human item. A howl carried for miles and didn’t depend on poles and lines or metal towers to carry messages. A howl would travel from Wolf to Wolf, providing information to everyone within range. But police wouldn’t recognize an “I found something!” howl; they would need a phone call.

He called Jackson first and condensed everything Meg’s pack had told him into one sentence: treat the blood prophets like puppies who don’t know anything and are afraid of everything.

Wasn’t likely any of the girls would be found near Sweetwater, an area in the Northwest that contained an Intuit village and the terra indigene settlement where Jackson lived. A few weeks ago, a simple roadblock had been set up across the road leading to that area after a human village had been contaminated with gone over wolf, a drug made from the blood of cassandra sangue. No one could have left girls along that road without the Others knowing about it.

The phone rang under his hand, startling him enough to snap at the person on the other end. “What?”

“Simon?”

“Joe?” Something wrong. Terribly wrong. Kicked by a bison, ribs caved in wrong.

“We found . . . We didn’t know . . .” Joe’s howl of grief had Simon leaping to his feet.

“You found some of the girls?” Roadkill. Not all of those girls would have Meg’s strength and desire to survive. Was that why Joe was grieving?

“A few. They’re heavy with pups. All of them are ready to whelp.”

When the terra indigene attacked the compound run by the Controller, they hadn’t seen any gestating females. Pups old enough for schooling, yes, but no females bearing those pups.

Had the breeding females been kept in a different place from the girls who were cut? “What else?”

“We found the dead puppies,” Joe whimpered. “Simon, they killed the puppies.”

A horrible pain ripped through Simon. Memories of reaching his sister Daphne after she’d been shot. Memories of finding Sam cowering, his little paws covered in his mother’s blood. Memories of Meg the first time he’d seen her, stumbling into Howling Good Reads half-frozen and looking for a job.

“What puppies?” He could barely shape the human words.

“Many of the terra indigene who were searching for the girls only recognize humans from the Others who can shift to that form. The Eaglegard and Hawkgard saw humans throwing noisy sacks into a lake many times before today, but they didn’t understand. They just thought the stupid humans were fouling their own water supply. By the time some of the Crowgard flew by the lake and recognized the sounds coming from the last of the sacks as crying baby . . . Too late to save any of them.”

Would they have done this to Meg? Would they have bred her on some kind of farm like livestock? Would they have thrown her pup in the lake if it had been male and useless for prophecies?

Cleaning house. Isn’t that what humans called it when they wanted to avoid being punished for some wrongdoing? Cleaning house. Destroying the evidence that would show everyone they were bad, even for humans.

Maybe we should do a little housecleaning too.

He wasn’t sure what else he said to Joe, or what Joe said to him, before he ended the call with a promise to send information about how to keep the rescued girls alive.

Humans. He had tried to watch them, work with them, even help some of them.

Right now, all he wanted to do was get rid of them before they hurt Sam. Before they hurt Meg.

He could, and would, rid the Courtyard of the sickness called human before it contaminated the terra indigene, before it changed them. He was, after all, the dominant Wolf, the leader.

He went downstairs. John Wolfgard took one look at him and cowered.

Simon took the keys from his pocket and calmly locked HGR’s front door.

No escape from that direction.

“Simon?” Vlad’s voice. Sharp. Almost challenging.

“All humans are banished from the Courtyard. I don’t want to see them, hear them, smell them.”

“What happened?” Tess’s voice now. Just as sharp.

Simon turned and felt the fury explode in him when he spotted Merri Lee and Ruthie standing next to Tess, whose coiled red hair rapidly gained streaks of black.

Ignoring Tess’s visual warning, Simon rushed at the girls, his hands shifting to accommodate Wolf claws.

“Filthy monkeys!” he howled at them. Spittle flew from his mouth. He swiped at Vlad when the vampire stepped between him and the girls. “Filthy, greedy monkeys! Meg’s puppies aren’t something you drown like a bag of kittens! But that’s what you do, isn’t it? You destroy anything to get what you want, anything that isn’t exactly like you!”

He almost dodged Vlad when he leaped to attack Merri and Ruthie. He might have survived Tess. But Henry’s big, furry arms caught him, lifting him off his feet so that all he could do was struggle and rage.

“Get out,” Vlad said, pushing the girls toward the back door. “Get out of the Courtyard and stay away until I call you.”

“But I live in the efficiency—,” Merri Lee began.

“Find another place tonight,” Vlad snapped.

“Give her ten minutes to pack a few clothes,” Tess said. “Ruthie can run over to the Three Ps and tell Lorne to close up, then go to the medical office and tell Theral.”

Simon howled. The prey was getting away!

“Go!” Tess said.

The girls ran toward the back of the store. But Merri Lee turned back. “What about Meg?”

Simon screamed.

“We’ll look after Meg and keep her safe,” Vlad said, watching Simon. “Go.”

Simon panted. Hard to breathe. The prey was gone. No point fighting with the Grizzly now that the prey was gone.

“Simon.”

Fucking vampire was right in his face again. Bite him!

“Who did you talk to?” Vlad asked quietly. “Simon? Who told you about Meg’s puppies?”

Not Meg’s puppies, but they might have been.

His mouth couldn’t shape human speech. Without the fury, he felt sick and too tired to fight with Vlad and Henry.

Henry hauled him up to the Business Association’s room. Unable to stand being in that filthy human skin a moment longer, Simon tore off his clothes and shifted fully to Wolf. The relief was almost painful.

He curled up and studied Henry, who stood guard at the door.

he asked.

Henry replied.

Henry wouldn’t lie. With the humans out of the Courtyard, Meg would be safe.

Simon closed his eyes. Drifting in an uneasy sleep, he dreamed of Meg falling through the ice on Courtyard Creek, weighed down by bags that wailed and screamed.

Vlad hung up the phone with exaggerated care . . . and wondered how long Tess had been standing in the doorway.

“It’s bad?” she asked.

He understood killing to eat, to survive. He understood killing an enemy. He understood killing to protect family and home.

But he didn’t understand this. He wasn’t sure there was any kind of terra indigene who could understand this.

One chance, he thought as he picked up the phone and dialed. One chance to show us you’re not all monsters. “Come in so you can listen. I’d rather not repeat this more often than required.”

Monty stepped into Burke’s office to ask if the man wanted a cup of coffee, but the captain was on the phone, and his face was set and pale.

Retreating, Monty bumped into Kowalski, who grabbed his arm and pulled him toward his own desk, where Officers Debany and MacDonald waited for them, along with Louis Gresh and Pete Denby.

“Ruthie just called me,” Kowalski said, speaking so low the other men had to lean in to hear him. “Something has happened, something bad, but the girls don’t know what it is. Simon Wolfgard just banished all humans from the Courtyard. He’s so pissing mad, he tried to attack Merri Lee and Ruthie.”

Monty’s heart banged against his chest. Mikhos, guardian spirit, please spare us from having to fill out a Deceased, Location Unknown form for any of these girls. “Are they all right?”

“Yeah. Tess, Vlad, and Henry intervened. Right now, the other two girls are with Ruthie at our apartment. Merri Lee is staying with us tonight. Lawrence can pick up Theral after his shift.”

“Thanks,” MacDonald said.

Pete looked at the rest of them. “Is this because of the girls everyone is searching for?”

“Ruthie doesn’t think so,” Kowalski replied.

“The Others knew about those girls before we did,” Monty said. “Wolfgard wouldn’t have lost control hours later, so it has to be—”

“Gentlemen,” Burke said from his office doorway. “In here. Last one in, close the door.”

Monty went in first. Pete Denby came in last, closing the door.

“I’ve just had two phone calls. The first was from a contact in a police department in the Northwest.” Burke gave them all a chilling smile. “The girls the police and the Others are searching for? They’re all pregnant. Every single girl who has been found so far is pregnant, and some of them were in labor when they were found.”

“Gods, they must be terrified,” Monty said.

“Scared to death. Literally, in some cases. It appears the girls have been brainwashed to believe that the police will beat them until they lose their babies. And that the Others will eat them. They’re running away from help—and some girls have died as a result.”

Monty studied Burke’s face. “That’s not the worst of it. That’s not what pushed Simon Wolfgard over the edge a short while ago.”

“The second phone call was from Vladimir Sanguinati.” Burke’s hands curled into fists. “Most people prefer not knowing about the laws allowing benevolent ownership. And even people who don’t think humans should be able to ‘own’ another human will justify keeping troubled girls in special compounds for their own sake. How many of those people will try to justify not only breeding those troubled girls but also disposing of the unwanted offspring? Yes, gentlemen, apparently some of those compounds also have their own breeding farms. Can’t have that little secret coming out, can we?”

“The cassandra sangue are all girls,” Monty said. “Is there an orphanage for the boy babies?”

“Disposal, Lieutenant, not adoption. And that is what the terra indigene discovered while searching for the girls.” Slowly, with effort, he forced his hands to open. “The people responsible for breeding these girls like livestock need to be found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of our law. The girls, and any surviving babies, need to be found and saved. The breeding farms need to be found and shut down. Lieutenant, I’m splitting up your team for the rest of the day. Each man will pair up with another officer from the station. That way there will be one man in each car who has had dealings with the Others. You go out to the farms around Lakeside. You check the barns, the outbuildings. You make a note of any building that could house these girls. If you run into trouble or run into anyone who doesn’t want you looking around, you call for backup—or fire a couple of shots in the air. I was told that will bring a different kind of help.”

“Captain?” Kowalski asked. “Do you think we’ll find anything?”

“No, I don’t. But we’re going to search anyway in order to reassure all the citizens of Lakeside.”

Pete Denby cleared his throat. “These girls. The ones who live around here. Do they need an advocate?”

“Not at the moment,” Burke replied. “But it’s good to know you’re willing to stand for them in that capacity.” He walked toward the door. “Let’s do this, gentlemen.”

“You’re going out to search?” Monty said. Shouldn’t the captain remain at the station to coordinate with other precincts, other captains? With the commissioner and the mayor?

“Oh, yes. I’m going out to search. I’ll keep my mobile phone turned on so you can reach me in the field.” Burke opened his office door and walked out.

Monty and the other men hurried to catch up to him.

Meg. The puppies.

Simon jerked awake and sprang to his feet.

Henry’s warning growl convinced him to stay put.

He studied the Grizzly, whose hands were furry and clawed. Henry could do a lot of damage with those claws.

Right now, he hated the human form. Right now, he thought his heart would tear if he had to wear that skin. But he didn’t think Henry would let him out of the Business Association’s room while he was in Wolf form, so he shifted. He pulled on the jeans, then pondered the rips in the knit shirt he’d been wearing. Had Grizzly claws or sharp Wolf nails done that?

“I didn’t bite any of them.” His voice sounded rough, as if his body was resisting the shift to human.

“You would have.”

Shame was an odd feeling. Despite their being human, he liked Ruthie and Merri Lee. More important, Meg liked them. He’d just been so angry at all of the monkeys for hurting girls like Meg. And he’d felt terrified that by wearing the human form as much as he did, by trying to understand them and have so much contact with them, he might absorb that terrible aspect of being human.

“Does Meg know about . . .” He swallowed. Couldn’t say the words.

“Not yet.” Henry shifted his hands back to human shape. “Meg is in no danger. We thought it was better to spread the word to the terra indigene who are searching for the girls so they know what to look for if they spot humans near water.”

“Has anyone contacted Jackson Wolfgard or Roy Panthergard?”

“You were asleep only for a few minutes—just long enough for Vlad to find out why you were so angry and tell us and a few others in the Courtyard before he started contacting the Sanguinati to give them this new information.”

“I’ll call Jackson and Roy.”

Henry dipped a hand in his pocket and held out a mobile phone. “Don’t know where your mobile phone is. Vlad’s using the phone in HGR’s office, so you can stay in here and use my phone. I’ll go down and use the phone in the store. Make some calls to the Beargard.”

Staying in this room would keep him out of sight—and keep him away from any humans.

Simon took the mobile phone. “I would never bite Meg.”

“I know that. But as long as you’re up here, you won’t have words with Tess. Right now, that’s better for all of us.”

He waited until Henry left the room. He didn’t call Jackson or Roy. The first call he made was to the Liaison’s Office to talk to Meg. But the line was busy, so he didn’t have the comfort of hearing her voice.

Sighing, he called Jackson to tell him what else humans did to each other.

Meg gripped the phone’s receiver so hard her hand hurt. “I don’t know what happened. Was this part of the visions I saw?” She’d made the cut that morning. It felt like days had passed since then.

“No,” Merri Lee said. “That’s why we don’t understand what happened. One minute Simon is telling the three of us to work together on the Guide, and the next minute he’s kicking all the humans except you out of the Courtyard. Ruth and I have gone over it again and again, but we can’t figure out what we did to upset him.”

“I’ll try to find out.”

“Be careful.” A pause. “That drug. The gone over wolf stuff. Could he have taken some of that accidentally?”

“No.” Since the drug was made from cassandra sangue blood, he would have had to bite her or bite someone who had taken the drug. If he had bitten someone who had taken the drug, there would be a human acting violent and crazy too, and if that were the case, there would be Wolves and Sanguinati filling up the office to guard her, or they’d be hustling her back to her apartment.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right staying there?” Merri Lee asked.

“I’m sure.”

Meg set the receiver in the cradle. Someone knew why Simon had gone all “bite the human,” but who would tell her? Not Vlad or Tess or Henry. They would—what was the word?—stonewall. Yes. They would stonewall because even if they had intervened to save Ruth and Merri Lee, Simon was still the leader of the Courtyard, and they would protect the leader and give him a chance to speak for himself. Jester Coyotegard might know and would tell her just to cause a bit of mischief, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell her over the phone, and she would have to close the office too long to drive over to the Pony Barn.

But there were other residents who usually knew what was going on in the Courtyard, and they would be at their shop in the Market Square.

Meg tore off a page from the pad of paper Merri Lee had left on the counter. She hunted through a couple of drawers before she found a thick-line marker and a roll of clear adhesive tape. Then she paused to consider what she was about to do.

She hadn’t gone into Sparkles and Junk yet. Too many other things happening in the Courtyard over the past few months. Too many other things to see just in her daily routine. She’d yelled at Merri Lee for moving the stack of CDs, a clear indication that she needed some quiet time before she tried to deal with anything else. And with so many of the Others already stirred up about something, having an “episode” now could cause a lot of trouble.

Well, she just wouldn’t have an “episode.” At least, not until she got home and could hide from everyone.

She wrote Back in ten minutes on the paper, taped it to the office’s front door, and hurried out the back door and over to the Market Square.

There were usually a few of the terra indigene picking up a bit of food from the butcher’s shop or the grocery store. There was usually some activity at Music and Movies and at the library. Today the square was empty, felt deserted.

Hurrying to Sparkles and Junk, Meg felt relieved to find the shop open—until she stepped inside. The shop run by the Crows was a visual explosion of colors and shapes crammed together and piled high.

This was a mistake, Meg thought, holding the doorframe for support. Then she focused on Crystal, who stood behind a glass counter at the back of the store.

“It’s our Meg.” Feathers sprang up all over Crystal’s head, a sure sign of distress.

She doesn’t want to see me today, doesn’t want to be the one who lets slip whatever they’re all keeping from me. Just my being here is upsetting her. Can’t ask and can’t retreat without causing a different kind of trouble.

Keeping her eyes focused on Crystal so that she wouldn’t be overloaded by the rest of the store, Meg walked up to the counter and forced herself to smile.

Crystal looked toward a curtained doorway behind her. “Jenni and Starr are making phone calls. Does our Meg need something?” More feathers replaced hair.

“I’m learning how to be in a place that has a lot of things. To help the other cassandra sangue so that they can go into shops too.” Not a lie, just not the whole truth.

“Oh.” Crystal looked around. “We have lots of treasures. Not so many as we did, but we still have lots. Do you want to look?”

Meg glanced down at the shelf she could see through the glass and felt dizzy. There must be an entire binder of images on that shelf alone! “No. I can’t look at too many things at one time.”

The feathers on Crystal’s head smoothed into a more relaxed position. She picked up a green glass bowl and set it down in front of Meg. “Maybe this?” She dipped her hand into the bowl and came up with a handful of shiny coins. “I like to hold them, watch them shine as they fall back into the bowl. You can try it.”

To please her friend, Meg dipped her hand in the bowl. Shiny coins. Crystal must have spent hours polishing so many coins. Or did she just keep the coins that were already shiny?

“This was good. Thank you,” Meg said when the last coin fell back into the bowl. She started to turn away, bracing herself for the ordeal of walking to the door.

“Wait.” Crystal dashed to one of the tables and rummaged through a basket. She hurried back to Meg and held out her offering. “I don’t have the right kind of string. Blair might. You could ask. He wouldn’t growl at you.”

Sure he would.

Meg took the faceted oval piece of glass, not sure what to do with it.

“You hang it by a window, and rainbows will dance in your room!”

“This is wonderful. But I didn’t bring any money.”

“This is your first treasure hunt. You keep it. As a gift.”

“A crystal from Crystal. Thank you.”

“Is our Meg going back to the office now?”

“Yes. But I might sit in the Market Square for a minute before I do.”

As she chose a bench in the square, Meg wondered how many of the Others would know exactly where she was by the time Crystal finished relaying the news about her first treasure hunt.

Vlad watched Meg hurry toward the Market Square. Unusual for her to break routine. Of course, this entire day had broken a lot of things that had been carefully established over months, even years. He wouldn’t have been surprised if any of the other Wolves had lost control and turned on the girls today, but Simon? The leader who, just this morning, had talked about buying buildings to provide homes for these same girls?

He turned toward the desk, steeling himself to read the e-mail messages that had started pouring in as blood prophets were found in other parts of Thaisia, alive or dead. Then he heard a car pull into the area behind the store and looked out the window to see who was foolish enough to come here today.

Police car.

“Blessed Thaisia,” he muttered as he raced out of the office, down the stairs, and out HGR’s back door.

Three police officers worked with Lieutenant Montgomery to keep the peace between the humans living in Lakeside and the Courtyard. Karl Kowalski, Montgomery’s partner and Ruthie’s mate, had dark hair and brown eyes. The other two, Debany and MacDonald, had dark blond or light brown hair and blue eyes and were about the same height and build.

A matched pair, Vlad thought as he walked toward the car and the man who stepped out of it. Until recently Debany and MacDonald hadn’t been around the Courtyard as much as Kowalski and Montgomery, so it wasn’t always easy to tell them apart—unless you were a Wolf, who not only recognized the scent of each male but knew which female scent should also be present on their skin and clothes.

It took him a moment to decide it was Lawrence MacDonald who was waiting for him to approach. The officer still in the car, looking sweaty and pale, wasn’t Debany.

“Mr. Sanguinati.” MacDonald removed his hat and held it, making a noticeable effort not to fidget.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Vlad said. “You know that.”

“Yes, sir, I do. But I have to ask. Is the Courtyard closed to humans for good or just today? Can Theral come to work tomorrow?”

Interesting question, especially when it was so obvious by MacDonald’s control that the answer was very important.

“Can’t she stay home for a day?” Vlad asked.

“Not alone.” MacDonald looked uncomfortable. “She lived with someone for a while. He . . . hurt her, and she left. But he’s caused trouble for her. That’s why she moved to Lakeside, why she’s living at my parents’ house, trying to start over. Over the past few days, there have been phone calls to the house. Person hangs up as soon as someone answers. We think Jack Fillmore—that’s his name, Jack Fillmore—we think he’s looking for her. If he came to the house when no one else was home . . .”

Another girl at risk. Was the threat to Theral that much different from the men who had come after Meg? Vlad had a pretty good idea what Meg would say.

Would she forgive him, or Simon, if Theral was harmed by a bad human when being in the Courtyard, being protected by those who lived in the Courtyard, would have kept the girl safe?

“I’ll talk to the other members of the Business Association,” Vlad said, feeling reluctant but not seeing what else he could do. “I’ll call you tonight with our decision.”

MacDonald pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “All of my phone numbers, so you don’t have to look them up. Thank you.”

Vlad watched them back up and drive down the access way.

Jake Crowgard reported as he flew back to his usual place on the wall that separated the delivery area from Henry’s yard.

Vlad hurried back to Howling Good Reads, slipping inside just as Meg came into sight. A cowardly act? Perhaps. But, he thought, an understandable response.

What the Others had discovered about the other blood prophets and the babies would hurt her, and Vlad didn’t want to be the one who hurt Meg.

Exhausted and heartsick, Simon returned to the Human Liaison’s Office a few minutes before Meg closed for the day. Every terra indigene who knew how to use a telephone or send an e-mail had been put to work calling other Courtyards in the Northeast Region and then beyond. He and Henry had made calls to the Wolfgard, Panthergard, and Beargard in the Midwest and Northwest. Jenni and Starr had sent word to the Crowgard in the Northeast and High Northeast. And a little while ago, Jester Coyotegard showed up at HGR on behalf of the Elementals, who wanted to know why so many terra indigene were upset—and why Meg was upset.

When they were returning from the Midwest last month, he’d told Lieutenant Montgomery and Dr. Lorenzo that until someone no longer needed to breathe, a human couldn’t hide from Air. The Elementals rarely took notice of individuals unless provoked or, in Meg’s case, intrigued. But Jester’s appearance had made him realize there had been one group of terra indigene who could have found the abandoned cassandra sangue faster than the rest of them. It just hadn’t occurred to him to ask for their help.

After explaining why it was so urgent to find the blood prophets who were alone and frightened, Simon told the Coyote about the sacks being thrown into lakes and ponds. He didn’t know what, if anything, the Elementals who lived in the Lakeside Courtyard would do with the information, but if they told the rest of their kin, there was a chance of finding more of the girls and babies alive.

Lieutenant Montgomery had called to let the Business Association know that police officers throughout Thaisia were out there searching. Montgomery also said that many government officials were sounding outraged and fierce when television reporters asked questions about the abandoned girls.

Simon didn’t ask how many of those outraged humans had bought a cut on any of those girls. But Vlad, who had listened to the news reports, took note of who denied the existence of blood prophets.

The terra indigene in Lakeside had done as much as they could today. Just one more thing for him to do.

He opened the back door of the Liaison’s Office and looked around. How little was the little thing that was too much for Meg to absorb?

But she had learned how to do a job, and she did it so well she had changed how the Others saw the people who worked for them. She had learned how to take care of herself, was learning how to cook simple meals. She had even learned how to drive, more or less. Not that anyone in the Courtyard would let her go out on the city streets, but she chugged along just fine in her Box on Wheels as she made deliveries to the various complexes where the Others lived.

Meg, the Trailblazer. The one who could show the other girls how to live and survive and enjoy the world they’d seen only in pictures.

He walked into the sorting room. Meg stopped tidying the stacks of magazines and waited.

“They killed the babies,” he said, not knowing how else to tell her. “Humans like the ones who caged you put babies in sacks and threw them into water to drown. The girls who were left beside roads weren’t from the compounds; they came from dens where females had their pups.”

Her hands trembled. “Is that one of the things I saw in the prophecy? Was that one of the things Merri Lee didn’t want to tell me?”

“No. You saw the girls who were in trouble, not the babies.”

She said nothing. He waited. A Wolf knew how to be patient.

“Dragging the lake,” Meg said. “Are the police going to drag the lakes?” She smiled bitterly. “I know that phrase because I read it in a couple of thrillers recently. But I don’t recall any training images that would match those words.”

“Wouldn’t that be an important image if someone wanted to find a missing human?” Simon asked. Humans did drown by accident.

“It should have been a training image. But I don’t think the people who owned blood prophets wanted girls to have an image of what happened to the boy babies when they were taken away.” Meg shuddered. “After Sam began shifting to human form, I wondered if I’d ever had a younger brother. In the compounds, there were no boys being trained to see visions. Just girls. How many old sacks do you think they’ll find in the lakes?”

“I don’t know.” He hurt because she was hurting. He wanted to lick her face and find a meaty bone for her to gnaw on. He wanted to entice her into a game so she would think about something else. But he knew from experience that nothing could provide enough distraction to eliminate that kind of hurt.

“Simon? Could we go to the Wolfgard Complex and play with the puppies?”

Maybe there was a distraction that would help. “Sure we can. It would be good to do that.” Tomorrow he would think about human things again. Now he would spend some time with his own kind—and with his friend.

As he and Meg locked the back door of the Liaison’s Office, Vlad approached them from HGR.

“I closed for the day,” Vlad said. “We’re not open for human customers, and any terra indigene who want a book can borrow one from the Market Square Library. And I’ve had enough of—” His mobile phone rang.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Meg asked.

“No.” When it stopped ringing Vlad took the phone out of his pocket and shut it off.

“We’re going up to the Wolfgard Complex,” Simon said.

“I have to report to Grandfather Erebus. Why don’t we ride together?” Vlad looked at Meg. “Simon can shift and ride in the back of the BOW. I’ll drive over to the Chambers and then pick you up when you’re ready to go home.”

“I can drive,” Simon said.

“Not tonight,” Vlad said quietly. he added.

Simon nodded. Vlad was right about him not being able to hold the human form much longer. He couldn’t get a measure of Meg’s fatigue, but she crossed the short distance between the office and the garages as if she’d run a long way through deep snow and every step now was an effort to survive.

Since they’d already locked up the office and bookstore, Simon went into the garage that housed one of the BOWs to strip off his clothes and shift. Vlad obligingly stood where he would block Meg’s view. Not that Simon had any inhibitions about a human seeing him naked or shifting, but he was still careful to avoid Meg seeing him naked. He’d made the shift from Wolf to human once without thinking, and her confusion about seeing him as a naked human had almost broken their friendship.

He shook out his fur and waited for Vlad to set his clothes in the back of the BOW. When he jumped in, he made sure his tail was out of the way before the back door closed. Then Vlad and Meg got in the front seats. After Vlad backed out of the garage and stopped long enough to close the garage door, they headed for the Wolfgard Complex.

The BOWs were electric-powered vehicles that were used in the Courtyard. They had two seats and a cargo area that was just big enough for a grown Wolf if he kept his tail tucked. It wasn’t his fault that Meg’s head—and that newly cropped hair—was so close to his muzzle that he couldn’t help but sniff it.

No stinky smells anymore from whatever she had used to dye her hair. Now the hair smelled of the shampoo made by the terra indigene, and it smelled like Meg.

He gave the side of her head a quick lick before she squealed and ducked away from him.

Tasted like Meg. Felt like puppy fuzz.

Too bad he couldn’t hold her down and give her a proper grooming like he used to do with Sam. Could still do with Sam.

When they arrived at the Wolfgard Complex, the pups were outside playing some kind of game with the juvenile Wolves.

Vlad barely had time to stop the BOW before Meg scrambled out of the vehicle.

Sam’s happy arroo was followed by those of other pups as they all crowded around her.

Simon growled at Vlad. Excited pups could easily forget to be careful with Meg.

He almost smacked his head, too impatient to wait for Vlad to lift the back door fully before he leaped out of the BOW.

Then he stopped and watched Meg and Sam. Strong bond between them. Trust and love.

Was Meg’s little brother at the bottom of a lake? Did she really want to know that kind of truth about the humans who had kept her? Did he?

The rest of the Wolfgard who lived in Lakeside came over to where Meg was hugging all the pups, but especially Sam.

Sam said.

Couldn’t tell the pups what had happened today, especially not Sam, who had seen his mother shot, had been with her as she bled to death. The pup didn’t need to hear about humans killing their young. Instead, Simon howled the Song of Sorrow.

The adult Wolves took up the song. Most of them knew at least some of what had happened. He heard Blair’s voice, and Elliot’s. Then Jane and John and the rest. Then the juveniles and pups. And something else. A voice he’d never heard before.

Meg, kneeling in the grass, one arm around Sam. Meg, howling, adding her voice to the grieving.

When the howling ended, all the pups were pressed around Meg. The pack offering comfort.

Simon watched her as Sam left for a minute and returned with one of the soft ropes, offering the distraction of play. He watched her as she ran around making squeaky noises, pretending to be prey while the pups chased her and the adult Wolves made sure the game didn’t get too rough. He watched as she played tug with Sam.

She had spent most of her life isolated, even when she was surrounded by other humans. Now she was learning as much from the Wolves as she was from the humans about what it meant to have family.

She wasn’t a Wolf. She wasn’t terra indigene. Despite that, Meg was becoming one of them.