“I can’t speak for other Wolves, but it counts with me,” Blair said. “We’ll keep Sam safe. And Meg too.”
Vlad shifted in his chair. “She hasn’t seen a Wolf yet. Except Sam.”
“There’s always a Wolf on duty at HGR,” Blair said.
“Yes, but she hasn’t been in the store since she became the Liaison, so she hasn’t seen one of you.”
“I’ll assign a couple of Wolves to keep watch around the office. In human form.”
“Keep in mind that they’ll see Meg and Sam,” Henry said.
Blair growled. “
That
is for Simon to deal with when he gets back.”
“Agreed.”
Satisfied they had done what they could for the moment, Henry stood. “I am close by during the day, and the Hawks and Crows keep watch when Meg is working. They will alert the Wolves if there is a threat.”
The three went back to their own work.
As Henry walked the narrow path to his studio door, he looked at the Crows gathered on the wall.
Back inside, Henry hung up his coat and walked around the pieces of wood waiting to be given a new kind of life—and thought about the female who, despite being human, he was beginning to see as a friend.
In between deliveries, Meg scanned the
Lakeside News
, but didn’t see anything she thought should be reported to Henry or Tess—and wondered if she was out of place to even be looking. Surely Tess or Vlad did that anyway. But they didn’t have all the images she did and might not recognize something that could have an impact on the Others.
She noticed the sale ads, which were set up as Asia said, but she didn’t know if any of the residents would be interested in such items.
She read the comics and didn’t understand most of them. But there was a comic strip about the Others that disturbed her. It seemed to be part of an ongoing story, so the words had little meaning, but the slavering Wolf, standing upright and looking like a furry man with a wolf’s head, made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was a way to diminish something that was feared, but it felt dangerous. She couldn’t say if it was dangerous to the Others or to the humans, but she absorbed the image, then looked at the date at the top of the newspaper. Another image.
Folding the paper, she reached for the Courtyard’s newsletter, then stopped. Too much information, too much to absorb already today. Besides, distributing that new catalog to the residential complexes had produced a flurry of orders that had arrived that afternoon, so she still had to separate a cartload of packages and contact the complexes to come and pick up their orders.
She locked up promptly at four o’clock, filled the back of the BOW with small packages for the Chambers and the Green Complex, made sure she had her package for Winter, and headed out to make her deliveries.
It still made her nervous to get out of the BOW at any of the mausoleums that housed the Sanguinati—except Mr. Erebus’s home—but she was getting used to the smoke that flowed out of the buildings whenever she stopped the BOW. The Sanguinati in smoke form didn’t flow beyond their fences when she was around, and the ones who remained in human form didn’t speak to her or approach. She always bid them a good afternoon as she tucked packages into the delivery boxes—and always breathed a sigh of relief that none of them wanted to make a meal out of her.
Mr. Erebus, on the other hand, came down the walkway to meet her as she got out of the BOW.
“Your movies arrived,” Meg said, holding up the package. She noticed his fingernails didn’t look as yellow or horny as they had the first time she’d seen him, but maybe that was because she’d been nervous and the doorway had been dark.
“I do enjoy my movies,” he said. “Such a sweet girl to bring them to me.” Then he pointed at the black delivery boxes to indicate she should put his package inside. Even when he came out to meet her, he wouldn’t take a package directly from her hand.
“I’m pleased to do it,” Meg said.
Erebus studied her as she put the rest of the packages inside the delivery boxes. “Vladimir is kind to you?”
The question surprised her. What surprised her more was the feeling that Vlad’s well-being depended on her answer. “Yes, he is. He and Nyx were very helpful this morning.”
“That is good.” He stepped back. “Go finish your work, then enjoy the night.”
“I will.”
As she drove toward the lake, she wondered if that was a warning that she should stay within the Green area of the Courtyard after dark.
Winter was skating on the lake, wearing the same white dress. Meg parked in the same place as the first time she’d visited, pulled a scarf out of the shopping bag, then walked down to the edge of the lake.
The girl gradually joined her.
“It is the Liaison,” Winter said. “Do you skate, Meg?”
“I never learned.”
“Humans wear metal on their feet to glide over ice. I have no need of such things.” Winter tipped her head. “Did you come to collect the library books? We have not finished reading them.”
“No, I’m not here for the books. I brought you this.” Meg held out the scarf.
The girl stiffened, and the eyes that fixed on Meg were filled with an inhuman anger.
“You brought me the color of Summer?”
Staggered by the depth of the anger, Meg looked at the green scarf. “Summer? No. I didn’t think of it as a summer green.”
Winter seemed taller than she’d been a moment ago—and less human. And the air, which had been tolerable that afternoon, suddenly had a bite.
She had insulted the girl. That much she understood. It sounded like Winter and Summer didn’t get along, despite being sisters.
Were
they sisters?
“When I saw this, I thought of you,” Meg said, hoping to explain.
“Me.” The word was a furious whisper. Snow suddenly whipped around the other side of the lake, a curtain moving toward them.
“Because of this.” Meg unfolded the scarf, revealing the snowflakes that became the white ends and fringe. She struggled to find the right words. “Winter isn’t an absence of color; it has all these shades of white. And then there are the evergreens with their branches tipped with snow, their color an accent for the white. When I saw the scarf at a shop in the Market Square, I thought of you because your dress has shades of white, and the green would be an accent for the dress like the evergreens are for the land.”
The snow on the other side of the lake quieted. Winter studied the land and the trees, then looked at the scarf. “It
is
the color of the evergreens.” She reached out and rubbed the scarf between her hands. “Soft.”
Meg hardly dared to breathe.
“Kindness,” Winter murmured, taking the scarf and wrapping it around her neck. “So unexpected.”
The eyes that would never be mistaken for human stared at her. “Thank you, Meg.”
“You’re welcome, Winter.” She walked back to the BOW and waved before she got in. The girl didn’t wave back, but as Meg drove away, a second girl glided over the ice and linked hands with Winter.
During the drive back to the Green Complex, Meg noticed how the snow beside the road swirled in the air like skaters twirling over the ice on a lake.
CHAPTER 12
A
fter a long, hot shower and a late breakfast, Meg filled Earthday with chores, Sam, and her first social outing. While her clothes washed, she and Sam walked around the complex. While the clothes dried, she and Sam walked around the complex. By the time she got home and put her clothes away, Sam was sprawled on her bedroom floor, unwilling to move. She had to lug him back to his cage in Simon’s living room.
Then it was time to meet the females who were gathering in the Green’s social room to watch a chick movie. Jenni Crowgard and her sisters were there, along with Julia Hawkgard, Allison Owlgard, and Tess.
They rearranged the chairs and the sectional couch to their liking—and for ease at reaching the popcorn, nuts, and chocolate chip cookies Tess had brought. Then Jenni started the movie.
There were mothers crying about daughters, and daughters yelling at mothers. There were fathers arguing with sons. There were friends offering unwanted advice to everyone. But in the end, they were all smiling and hugging.
Meg couldn’t decide if this was supposed to be a story about a real family or if it was make-believe and wouldn’t actually happen in a human community. The Others didn’t understand the story either, but they all agreed on one thing: there wasn’t a single chick in the whole movie.
By the time she got back, Sam was awake and ready to play. So they ate and played and watched another movie that definitely had chicks and other animals in it.
“If you let me get some sleep tonight, you can come with me in the morning,” Meg said when she latched the cage. “But if you start howling and keep everyone up, you’ll have to stay home by yourself.”
Sam whined, making Meg feel like a meanie. But he settled down, and she went back to her apartment and barely had time to go through her nightly routine before she fell into bed and was sound asleep.
The next morning, there wasn’t a sound from Simon’s apartment. Not a yip or a howl. Having slept through her alarm, Meg wasn’t sure she would have heard Sam before she stumbled out of bed, no matter how much noise he’d made. However, by the time she got out of the shower, the silence had taken on an ominous feel.
What if she hadn’t latched the cage correctly last night? What if Sam had gotten out and, feeling upset with her for leaving him, had done one of the things that had worried Simon enough to buy the cage in the first place?
Rubbing her wet hair, Meg stuffed the towel on the rack, put on her robe and slippers, and hurried over to Simon’s apartment. She shivered as she worked the lock in the back hallway—a reminder that even indoors, this wasn’t a good time of year for wet hair and minimal clothing.
She would fix both of those things as soon as she checked on Sam.
What if he wasn’t making any noise because he was injured and couldn’t howl for help? What if he was sick? What if . . .
She rushed down the stairs and into the living room.
. . . he was licking the last bits of kibble out of his bowl and waiting for her quietly so she would take him with her?
Sam wagged his tail and let out a soft
arrooooo
of greeting.
“Good morning, Sam,” Meg said. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll come and get you in a few minutes. Okay?”
Taking the sound he made as agreement, she dashed back to her apartment to dry her hair and get dressed. She hurried through the rest of her morning routine, almost choking on her hasty breakfast of peanut butter and bread.
By the time she got her place locked up and returned to Simon’s apartment, Sam was dancing in place. As soon as she unlocked the cage, he was out and dancing at the front door. She got him into his harness and packed up his bowls and towel. When she stepped outside, Vlad was waiting for her.
He took the two carry sacks and looked thoughtful. “What are you bringing every day?”
“Sam’s food bowls,” Meg replied, double checking that she had properly locked Simon’s door, because she remembered images and clips of thieves breaking into houses. Then there was the recent vision of those men dressed in black and Sam being afraid. She didn’t think anyone would sneak into the Courtyard and try to steal from the Others. On the other hand, people did foolish things all the time.
“Meg, if Sam is going to the office with you most days, get another set of bowls so you don’t have to cart these back and forth,” Vlad said.
“I’m going to look through the Pet Palace catalog this morning to see how much they cost,” she said as the three of them set off for the garages, stopping every few steps for Sam to pee. She didn’t want to be stingy, but the shopping trip on Firesday had shown her how quickly money was used up, and she didn’t want to run out before the next pay envelope. And that thought reminded her to stop at the Market Square bank and find out how much store credit she could anticipate having each month. She was beginning to understand why so many of the Controller’s clients had wanted prophecies about money.
“Buy what you want for Sam and charge it to the Business Association,” Vlad said. “I’ll authorize the purchases.”
“Thank you.”
They packed the carry sacks and Sam into the BOW. Then, despite her having her key that morning, Vlad drove the three of them to the Liaison’s Office.
When she opened the front door, Harry from Everywhere Delivery was just pulling in.
Not late this morning,
she thought as she waved at Harry—and caught a glimpse of someone watching from the second floor of the consulate.
But just barely on time.
Since Harry always chatted with her for a few minutes, Meg took her time setting up her clipboard and filling out the information on the packages he brought. Unlike Asia Crane, he wasn’t blatantly curious about the Courtyard. Harry chatted about his own life, a version of the human world that was as alien to her as the
terra indigenes’
way of life. But Meg absorbed the words, and whenever she had a few minutes of quiet time, she tried to match the things Harry talked about to the images and clips that had been part of her training.
“Pull up so we’re not in the way of deliveries,” Monty said as Kowalski drove into the Courtyard. “This won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
There had been no further news from the West Coast, no confirmation of how many people in Jerzy had been killed last week, no information about why a pack of young men had attacked the Others and started the fight that escalated into a slaughter. And despite having a patrol car waiting at the train station whenever an eastbound train pulled in, there had been no sign of Simon Wolfgard.
Preferring to avoid more dealings with Vladimir Sanguinati, Monty had decided to approach the Liaison. He didn’t think Meg Corbyn could—or would—tell him anything, but he wanted to remind her that he was there to help.
As he opened the office door, one of the Crows fluttered over the stone wall, while another went winging off, no doubt to tell someone that he was there.
There was that flash of fear in Meg Corbyn’s gray eyes when she saw him, quickly followed by an effort to hide that fear. He wondered if she would ever look at him and not be afraid that he was going to take her back to whatever she had run away from. But why would she still be afraid? Didn’t she know that the Others wouldn’t tolerate her being apprehended?
“Good morning, Lieutenant Montgomery. Is there something I can do for you?”
Reaching the counter, Monty smiled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. I just dropped by to see if there was anything we can do for you.”
“Oh.” She looked at the catalog on the counter, as if searching for the correct response among the merchandise.
Since she wasn’t looking at him, he focused on the room beyond the Private door, which she had left open. A back wall with slots and shelves. A box of sugar lumps sitting on a big table in the middle of the room. And a gray puppy standing in the doorway, its lips peeled back to reveal a mouth full of healthy teeth.
Not a dog puppy,
Monty thought when the animal snarled at him.
A Wolf pup.
Meg jerked at the sound. After staring at the Wolf, she looked at Monty and said, “This is Sam. He’s helping me for a few days.” Then she looked at the youngster. “Sam, this is Lieutenant Montgomery. He’s a police officer.” Back to him. “He’s young. I’m not sure he knows what a police officer is.”
When did the Others start shifting into human form? Was that pup also a boy?
Whose
boy?
He didn’t need three guesses to figure
that
out, but it made him wonder what other duties Simon Wolfgard might require from his Liaison.
“Maybe the bookstore has one of those ‘this is’ books,” Monty said. “I don’t recall the actual name, but the gist of the books is to help children identify things. Like, ‘This is a cat. This is a car. This is a mouse. This is a moose.’”
There was a queer look in her eyes, and her fair skin paled. “I remember those kinds of books,” she whispered. “I didn’t know other children were taught that way.”
He’d been thinking of all the evenings he sat with Lizzy, reading those books to her, and how excited she had been when they went to the children’s zoo and she could identify the goat, chicken, and bunny. But looking at Meg, he doubted she had the same kind of warm memories about those books.
“Thank you. That’s a good suggestion,” she said. “If HGR doesn’t carry children’s books, maybe the Courtyard library does.”
Time to leave. He glanced at the catalog, which was open to a selection of dog beds, and noticed she had circled one. He took a moment to gauge the pup, then tipped his head to look at her choice.
“I’d go with the medium-sized bed, not the small,” he said.
“But he is small,” Meg protested. She paused. “At least, I think he’s small. I haven’t seen a full-grown Wolf yet.”
He smiled, but he wondered
why
she hadn’t seen a Wolf yet. “Take my word for it. Sam is already bigger than what people consider a small dog.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good to know.”
“You have a good day, Ms. Corbyn.”
“You too.”
When he stepped out of the office, he caught sight of Kowalski’s expression. Looking to the right, he saw the Grizzly who was standing on the other side of the wall, watching him. In those first moments, his lungs refused to breathe and his bowels turned to water.
“Good day, Mr. Beargard,” he said quietly. Then he walked over to the patrol car and got in.
“We okay to leave?” Kowalski asked, still keeping an eye on the Grizzly.
“Yes. Let’s go,” Monty replied.
Henry Beargard watched them until they pulled into traffic.
“A guy from the consulate came out as soon as you went into the Liaison’s Office,” Kowalski said. “Mainly wanted to know what we were doing there. Told him it was a courtesy call.”
“Which it was.”
“The guy was in my line of sight, so when I first saw the Grizzly,
I thought it was one of those carvings, until the bear turned his head and watched you talking to the Liaison.” Kowalski braked carefully as they came up to a red traffic light. “Never saw one of the Bears before. Can’t say I’m anxious to see another one.” A pause when the light changed and they started moving again. “Do you think he could have gotten over that wall?”
Could have gotten over it or gone through it.
Not finding any comfort in that certainty, Monty didn’t answer the question.
Meg called the Pet Palace and placed her order with the shop’s manager since the salesperson who answered the phone didn’t want the responsibility of charging anything to the Courtyard. Receiving a promise that the bowls and bed would be delivered the following morning, she considered her next call.
Something was wrong with Sam—or had been wrong. She’d understood that from the cage in Simon’s living room and the kibble, which she doubted was a typical food for any of the Wolves
.
Something had changed in the past few days. Sam seemed more responsive, more like a curious puppy now. If he was behaving more like a typical Wolf pup, maybe that explained his increasing lack of interest in the kibble.
Although it didn’t explain his interest in the cookies she had bought for him.
Since she couldn’t ask Simon for advice—and she sure didn’t want to ask Blair—she called the Market Square butcher shop to see if she could get an answer.
And as she listened to the phone ring, a thought niggled at her. She’d been in the Courtyard almost two weeks now and heard them every night, so why
hadn’t
she seen any of the Wolves in Wolf form? Were they under orders to avoid her when in that form? Were they really that scary?
“We got meat and fish today,” a male voice said. “Whaddaya looking for?”
“This is Meg, the Liaison. Do you have any special meat?”
Silence, followed by sputtering. “Special meat?
You
want some of the
special meat
?”
Obviously there was a special meat. Just as obviously, not everyone was allowed to have it.
“It’s for Sam,” Meg said. “He’s not enthusiastic about the kibble, so I wondered if there was a special meat for puppies. Well, maybe something like rabbit or deer isn’t really special, since Wolves eat it all the time. Don’t they?” When he didn’t say anything, she plowed on. “Little Wolves Sam’s age do eat meat, don’t they?”
A gusty sigh. Then that voice, sounding relieved, said, “Sure they eat meat. Sure they do. Got some nice bits of beef in today. That would be more of a treat than deer or rabbit—unless you want a whole haunch of rabbit. Got a haunch left from the one I caught this morning.”
Suddenly feeling queasy, Meg said, “A small piece of beef would be fine. I don’t want to give him too much if he hasn’t had it for a while.”
“I’ll bring it over.” He hung up.
Meg stared at the phone. “Why was he so upset about me asking for special meat?”
Not everyone was allowed to have it. Or was it just the
humans
who weren’t supposed to want it because . . .
Before she lost her nerve, she called A Little Bite and silently thanked all the gods when Merri Lee answered.
“Are humans considered special meat?” Meg asked.