The Others 03 Vision in Silver (13 page)

“Maybe that’s something you should ask Meg the next time she makes a controlled cut,” Tess said.

Simon and Vlad snarled at her.

Her hair immediately turned red with black threads and began coiling. “Be careful, vampire,” she warned, looking at Vlad.

“Yes, the next cut should be a controlled cut,” Henry said. Though he spoke quietly, his rumbling voice drowned out the snarls. “It was different from the ones our Meg made when she was upset. It didn’t strain her body like the other cuts did.”

“How could you tell?” Vlad asked.

Henry smiled. “The weather has warmed enough that she opened the window in the sorting room when she started her work. I could hear her singing.” He thought for a moment. “Well, it was a happy sound anyway.”

“Fine,” Tess said, the black threads fading from her hair. “Humans aren’t the enemy anymore.”

“Oh, most of them are still enemies and meat,” Simon said. “But I think this plan will help us identify the few who aren’t.”

Firesday, Maius 11

F
or the second time in two days, Monty joined Captain Burke and Pete Denby for a meeting behind closed doors.

“It’s unprecedented,” Burke said after Pete told them about looking at the apartments and the subsequent job offers from Simon Wolfgard. “Of course, Wolfgard has been a progressive leader ever since he took over the Lakeside Courtyard.”

“Did you have the sense they want to expand the Courtyard?” Monty asked.

Pete shook his head. “No, but I do think he’s focused on the survival of the Courtyard’s residents. That makes me wonder what he knows that we don’t.”

Burke opened his hands in a “Who knows?” gesture. “They have a blood prophet. And while Wolfgard has shared information he’s gotten from Meg Corbyn, I wouldn’t assume he shares all of it. On the other hand, there is no other police force on the whole continent who interacts with the
terra indigene
the way we do, and Lieutenant Montgomery and his team are largely responsible for that. So anything the rest of us can do to keep that communication open is an avenue I’d like to explore.”

“Have to admit, I’m kind of curious too,” Pete said. “So is Eve.”

“You concerned about the children?” Burke asked.

“Some. But I’m more worried about what other humans might do than what the
terra indigene
will do,” Pete said. “Anyone else notice how yesterday’s news stories about police and Others cooperating to locate and help those abandoned
girls have been replaced by reports about the desperate situation in Talulah Falls and how every regional government is reviewing the ration books to determine what foods will be added in anticipation of shortages? Since I doubt there are many Others who pay attention to human news reports, it seems like someone doesn’t want us to see any proof that we can get along. And that scares me. Humans don’t own so much as an acre of land on this entire continent. We can build or farm on the land that is leased; we can extract minerals and fuels; we can harvest timber. Most of the land leases are twenty or twenty-five years for villages and small towns. They get renewed so quietly I doubt anyone but government officials, and lawyers, even think about it anymore. Or they didn’t until the
terra indigene
refused to renew the lease for Jerzy and all the humans were forced to leave that village. The occasional mention of a city land lease during a government meeting is brushed aside so fast you’re not even sure you heard the words. People in my old town were shocked when they realized that the Others take those leases seriously and are willing to evict any tenants they view as too troublesome to tolerate.”

“Maybe that’s partly what’s behind the talk about shortages,” Monty said. “Maybe some of the leases on tracts of farmland are coming due, and the governments aren’t sure that the leases will be renewed this time.”

Burke nodded. “That’s a possibility. The water tax here helps everyone remember who owns the water that supplies the city. But Pete is right about people forgetting about the leases. Lakeside has been around long enough that most people don’t read the fine print that says when they buy a house, they’re buying the building and not the parcel of land it stands on.”

“Eve and I spent the rest of the morning talking it over,” Pete said. “And frankly, we talked about looking at another town in the Northeast or somewhere in the Southeast Region.”

“You think those places would be safer?” Monty asked.

“No, we don’t. That’s why I’m going to accept the job of being the Others’ attorney for human concerns and Eve is going to work for them as an apartment manager.”

“Smart move,” Burke said. “I’ll give you what help I can.”

Monty looked at Pete. “Before you go, I’d like to ask . . . If you’re working for the Courtyard, will you—
can
you—also take on other clients?”

“Lieutenant?” Burke asked, rising to his feet.

“Simon Wolfgard didn’t say I couldn’t,” Pete said. “And I don’t think they have enough business for me to make a living if I don’t take other clients. Why? Do you need a lawyer?”

Monty nodded. “I’m worried about my daughter. For a while, my ex was talking about relocating to someplace in Cel-Romano to live with Nicholas Scratch and his family.”

“Scratch?” Pete looked at Monty, then at Burke. “The HFL speaker?”

“The same,” Burke said grimly. “Scratch is still in Toland making his speeches. Gods above and below, you can’t listen to a news report without hearing the bastard making one of his speeches.”

“Since Scratch is in Toland, it stands to reason that Elayne is there too,” Monty said. “But I haven’t been able to reach her for the past couple of days.” He tried to hold in the words, but they burst out. “It’s bad enough that she invited Scratch to move in with her so soon after meeting him, but Lizzy is just as much my daughter as hers, and I do not want Elayne taking Lizzy across the Atlantik to live with a man I don’t trust. Gods! Nicholas Scratch is an alias. We can’t even find out who he is and if he really is from a wealthy Cel-Romano family as he claims.”

“You think he said that to sound more credible?” Pete asked.

“We don’t know,” Burke replied.

Monty pulled the papers out of the inside pocket of his suit coat and handed them to Pete. “These are copies of Lizzy’s birth certificate and the legal papers Elayne had drawn up for child support.”

“No other legal agreements between you and Elayne?” Pete asked.

“We weren’t married, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Pete tucked the papers in his briefcase. “All right. I’ll look into what options you have to gain some kind of custody, or, at the very least, prevent Elayne from taking Lizzy beyond Thaisia.”

“Thank you.” If he did gain some kind of custody, would his mother be willing to relocate and help him take care of Lizzy? Something else to think about.

Monty’s mobile phone rang. “This is Montgomery.”

“Lieutenant.” Something odd about Simon Wolfgard’s voice. “Come to the Courtyard.
Now.
We have something that belongs to you.”

Pater,

Payment for merchandise was misdirected. Location known, but retrieval will be difficult. First shipment of merchandise will be sent in good faith.

—NS

Firesday, Maius 11

“W
hy do I have to play with a human?” Sam asked again as Meg reached for the back door of A Little Bite.

She stepped away from the door and bent over, bracing her hands on her thighs so that she and Sam were eye to eye. The way he was growing, she wouldn’t need to do that much longer. Or maybe this growth spurt would plateau soon. None of the Others would talk about what the
terra indigene
looked like before taking on the forms that separated them into various gards and gave each group particular traits, but Meg had the impression that Sam’s growth wasn’t based on how quickly or slowly wolves or humans grew to maturity; it was based on how the
terra indigene
’s mysterious first form matured.

“We’re not playing with her, exactly,” Meg said. “We’re just going to have a snack and keep her company until Lieutenant Montgomery arrives.”

“Because he’s her sire?”

“Yes.” She touched his arm, a moment of contact. “She’s all alone, Sam, and she’s too young to have come all that way on a train by herself.”

Simon hadn’t told her much, but he’d said enough. Lizzy Montgomery might not have reached Lakeside if Nathan hadn’t been on that train and riding in the same car.

Sam looked at the ground between their feet before asking in a small voice, “Did something happen to her mom?”

Simon said there’s some dried blood on Lizzy’s toy bear,
Meg thought.
Sam is a Wolf pup. He’s bound to smell it.

“We don’t know what happened to Lizzy’s mom,” she said. “But Simon and Lieutenant Montgomery will find out.”

Now he reached out, a fingertip touch on her arm. “Are you going to have to bleed?”

He didn’t know about the
cassandra sangue
’s addiction to cutting, but he did know that she cut herself in order to see visions.

“No. Whatever happened has already happened. I . . . cut . . . when it’s important to see what
might
happen. Like when those men attacked the Courtyard and I knew before they arrived that you had to stay with Mr. Erebus because you’d be safe with him.”

“And you knew when that box of sugar lumps would make the ponies sick.”

“Yes.”

Apparently satisfied that nothing would happen to
his
pack, he eyed her head with unnerving interest.

“Can I feel your fur?” he asked.

“It’s not fur; it’s hair.”

“Uh-huh. Can I feel it?”

Bad enough she’d shocked herself with this new haircut, but every Wolf, Crow, Hawk, Owl, and Sanguinati she’d seen yesterday had stared at her. Jester Coyotegard had trotted over from the Pony Barn to get a look—and then gleefully raced back to report to the girls at the lake. Even the ponies, who were the Courtyard’s mail carriers and the Elementals’ steeds, had been more interested in lipping what was left of her hair than in eating the carrot chunks she had for their treat.

“Why?” she said. “It’s the same as it was before.”

“Uh-uuuh.”

Meg huffed out a breath. “Fine. You can feel it.”

“It’s soft and thick,” Sam said, running his hand over her hair. “Feels like Wolf.”

The soft, and deliberate, scuff of a shoe on the ground just behind her.

Meg snapped upright and whirled around.

“Simon.” She tried—and failed—to recall a training image that matched the look on his face. Baffled annoyance with a touch of hurt feelings?

“Wait for us inside, pup,” he said. “And don’t shift in front of the little human.”

Big gusty sigh. Then, having made his point about being put upon by entertaining a
human
, Sam opened the door and slipped inside A Little Bite.

“I should . . .” Meg pointed at the door.

“You growl at me because I want to feel your hair, but you don’t even grumble at him?”

Definitely some hurt feelings.

“He’s a puppy!” she protested.

“So?”

“Well . . . but . . .”

“I don’t growl at you when
you
want to pet my fur,” Simon said.

“But . . . that’s different!”

“How?”

Meg opened her mouth to explain exactly how it was different—and couldn’t think of anything to say. It
was
different, wasn’t it? He never objected when she ran her fingers through his fur. He was a Wolf. And fluffy. Less fluffy now that he’d shed his winter coat, but still!

Had she been intruding on what a magazine article called personal space without realizing it? He’d never objected, but he’d never actually given her permission to pet him.

She looked at him patiently waiting for an explanation and realized he didn’t see a difference between his tactile curiosity and hers. And right now she couldn’t figure out the difference either.

“Fine,” she muttered.

Not like Sam’s touch. Simon’s larger hand slowly moved over her head, those strong fingers finding the spot behind her ear where the muscles were tight. Pressing. Circling. Coaxing the muscles to yield and relax.

She swayed. Didn’t even realize he’d moved until her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh,” she breathed. “No wonder you just lie there when we’re watching a movie.”

His breath ruffled her hair when he said laughingly, “Well, yeah.”

Too soon Simon lowered his hand and stepped back. “Sam’s getting impatient—and curious now that he’s gotten a look at the Lizzy. You should go in. The Lizzy wouldn’t tell Nathan what happened to her mother, but she might tell you.”

Meg nodded and walked into A Little Bite.

Not just Lizzy,
the
Lizzy.

Ruth was the one who had realized the
terra indigene
had a verbal hierarchy they used when talking about humans, a way of indicating the degree of
interaction with an individual. Ruth had been the Ruthie when she’d been a customer at Howling Good Reads, but since she’d started working in the Courtyard, she was just Ruthie. Meg was Meg, the Meg, or our Meg depending on who was talking to her or about her.

And humans the Others didn’t like had “that” added to their names.

Simon came in behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, which made her realize she’d stopped moving while she pondered name distinctions.

As she walked up the hallway that led from the back door to the front of the shop, she pictured the customer area of A Little Bite with its tables and the counter where Tess worked. She pictured Sam sitting at one of the tables. She hadn’t seen Lizzy yet, so she recalled a training image of a young girl. Now she had some idea of what to expect.

Then she heard a young female voice say, “Bad dog!” She heard the
whap
of two things connecting, followed by a yelp. And then Skippy bolted down the hallway and almost knocked her over in his haste to escape.

“You should deal with that,” Simon said, giving her another nudge. He turned and went out the back door with Skippy.

Deal with what? How many things had she dealt with because Simon assumed that she could? And how many things had she dealt with because she didn’t want Simon to know that she couldn’t?

Something to think about another day.

Shaking her head, Meg walked into the coffee shop’s front room.

“I’m making grilled cheese sandwiches,” Tess said. “You’re the referee. You can tell Miss Lizzy over there that Boo Bear does not get his own sandwich. He’ll have to settle for a bite of hers.”

Since Tess’s hair was green and curling, Meg didn’t argue and she didn’t ask. But she wondered why no one had mentioned that a member of the Beargard was visiting the Courtyard.

Sam, who had been standing near the counter, grabbed Meg’s hand and whispered loudly, “She whacked Skippy. With a
bear
.”

The pup sounded impressed. Meg felt confused.

Unable to recall any training image that would match what Sam had said, she whispered, “Come on, let’s introduce ourselves.” Holding his hand, she walked up to the table where the girl watched them. “I’m Meg. This is Sam. Can we sit with you?”

The girl nodded. “I’m Lizzy. This is Boo Bear.”

Looking at Boo Bear, Meg understood why he wasn’t going to get his own sandwich. She just hoped Lizzy understood the difference between Boo Bear and a real bear.

Tess came over and set two plates on the table. Both held a grilled cheese sandwich cut in half and a sprig of red grapes. “I’m bringing yours,” she told Meg. Then she looked at Lizzy and Sam. “Sit down. Eat. Try not to cause a riot.”

Was that supposed to be amusing?
Meg wondered.

Sam sat on the edge of a chair, one foot on the floor in case he needed to make a quick escape. He picked up one half of his sandwich and took a bite, all the while watching the girl and bear.

Meg took a seat and thanked Tess when the third plate of food and three glasses of water were placed on the table. For a minute, she savored the experience of eating—the taste and texture of toasted bread and melted cheese, the crisp sweetness of the grapes.

After she’d eaten half the sandwich, she focused on the girl. What to say? What to do? What if something bad
had
happened?

Of course something bad happened,
Meg thought.
Lizzy is here, alone. Sort of. The police should be the ones who ask about that. But I need to say something.

Then she knew exactly what to say because she’d had a similar experience a few months ago.

“How did you like riding the train?” Meg asked. She addressed the question to Lizzy, but it felt like she was talking to the team of Lizzy and Boo Bear.

Lizzy took a bite of her sandwich before pressing the toast and grilled cheese against the spot where Boo Bear’s mouth would be. When she raised the sandwich to take another bite, Meg tried to ignore the toast crumbs and dollop of cheese clinging to the fur.

“It was okay,” Lizzy said. “Boo Bear was scared for a while because there was a bad man on the train. But the Wolf police chased him away.”

Meg blinked. “The what?”

While sandwiches were devoured, the story of Nathan scaring off the bad man segued to Sam talking about the Wolf Team movie he’d watched recently. At first Meg wondered if the story would be too scary for a human Lizzy’s age. After all, watching those movies scared
her
. However, after a few minutes of listening to the two children arguing about who was stronger—the Wolf Team or
a group of girls who sounded more like tiny Elementals than young humans with special powers—Meg wasn’t sure if the term “bloodthirsty” should be applied to the youngster who preferred eating his meat raw.

*   *   *

He had his mobile phone, house keys, wallet, and police ID. Since he couldn’t figure out what he’d left at the Courtyard that needed to be retrieved so urgently, Monty focused on his partner.

“What are you and Ruth going to do?” Monty asked, referring to the forced move from the new apartment.

“Store some of our stuff with my folks and some in Ruthie’s parents’ house. And hope we can find another place quickly,” Kowalski replied. “Narrow-minded, shortsighted . . .” He stopped.

Monty waited a beat. “Are you talking about your soon-to-be-ex-landlord or your parents?”

Kowalski didn’t reply until they stopped at a traffic light. “My folks will help because we’re family and that’s what families do. But they aren’t happy about why I’m being shown the door. When my brother said he wouldn’t want to live in the same building with Wolf lovers, my parents didn’t say a thing. That amounts to tacit agreement. And with all the news about troubled girls committing suicide, and with the
terra indigene
being blamed for so many of those halfway houses closing because the administrators were afraid to keep them open, well, that’s another reason not to side with monsters, no matter what they look like. And then having the surviving girls taken to undisclosed locations . . . There can only be one reason for that, right?”

“Most people aren’t going to want to admit that the monsters in this case not only look human but are human.” Monty hesitated but decided he needed to ask, needed to know. “Karl, do you want a transfer?”

Kowalski made the left turn on to Main Street, then turned again to pull into the Courtyard’s delivery area.

“No, sir, I don’t,” he said. “And Ruthie doesn’t want to walk away from her job in the Courtyard. We both believe that if push comes to shove, the kind of interaction we have with the Others now could help Lakeside remain a human-controlled city instead of turning into a cage like Talulah Falls. So we’ll stick.”

“And hope that your parents will come around to your way of thinking?”

“That’s not likely. But they haven’t said—yet—that they won’t be at Ruthie’s and my wedding next month.”

Monty heard the bitter resignation in his partner’s voice and regretted the rift growing in families. What would happen in the city if the allure of the Humans First and Last movement caused a rift between police officers? Would stations polarize to the point where you couldn’t count on your own for assistance?

“Come on,” Monty said as he opened his door. “Let’s find out what ruffled Wolfgard’s fur.”

They used the back door at Howling Good Reads. Nothing unusual in the stock room, except a noticeable lack of stock. But there was a crowd at the archway leading into A Little Bite.

Simon, Nathan, and Blair turned to look at him. Simon handed a pencil and pad of paper to Nathan, then moved away from the door, tipping his head to indicate Monty should follow.

“Something of interest?” Monty asked.

“The Lizzy,” Simon replied.

He must have heard wrong. “Lizzy and her mother are
here
?
My
Lizzy?”

“No, the Lizzy and Boo Bear are here.”

He felt the blood drain out of his head. “What about her mother? Where is Elayne?”

“That’s a good question, Lieutenant.” Simon studied him. “Is it usual for a pup that young to travel alone? We wouldn’t do it, but . . .”

“Of course it isn’t usual,” Monty snapped. He heard a soft growl and wasn’t sure if the warning came from Nathan or Blair. “No,” he said, struggling to bring his voice back to calm courtesy while his heart pounded. Lizzy here alone? How? Why? “She’s only seven years old. A girl that age wouldn’t be,
shouldn’t be
, traveling alone. Did she say anything about her mother?”