The Others 03 Vision in Silver (23 page)
Read The Others 03 Vision in Silver Online
Authors: Anne Bishop
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Dark Fantasy, #Alternative History, #Contemporary
“No one else has the right to decide if or when we cut our skin, but if we don’t learn to interpret the warning signs that tell us if we really need to cut, we can become the enslavers as well as the enslaved. We can become our own enemy.”
That was the second lesson Meg, the Trailblazer, had learned today. The first lesson—the harder, more important lesson—was that she wasn’t the only one who was hurt when she cut.
* * *
Simon came around the desk when Nathan appeared in HGR’s office doorway.
“That didn’t take long.”
Nathan approached him slowly, reluctantly. Not typical behavior for the enforcer—unless he’d done something wrong.
Simon leaned over the other Wolf, but he didn’t have to lean far to catch the scent. “Why do you smell like Meg?” he demanded.
on me,> Nathan said. cried
until my fur was wet.> He sounded baffled and upset.
“I guess she feels bad about making a cut and scaring you. Scaring all of us.”
Nathan said nothing for a moment. Then,
Simon gave the other Wolf a careful look. “No boogers.”
washing boogers out of fur.>
“Who doesn’t? What comes out of human noses is
disgusting
.” Simon sat on the floor, his back against the desk. Nathan sat next to him. “Do you want Blair to assign someone else as the watch Wolf for the Human Liaison’s Office?”
“I know.” Simon closed his eyes and waited until he sensed the tension draining out of both of them. “Do you still think it’s a good idea to have some of the Addirondak Wolves visit the Courtyard? We’ve got humans doing work for us who don’t know how to behave, but we can’t attack them and drive them off like we would an enemy.”
Of course, who could say how long it might have been before anyone discovered the jewels inside Boo Bear if Skippy and Sam hadn’t pulled off an arm and a leg? That had started some of the trouble. Then again, Burke and Montgomery wouldn’t have known why the Lizzy was in danger if the jewels hadn’t been found.
Simon climbed to his feet. “Go home. Go run. Tomorrow is Earthday, and we’ll pretend humans don’t exist.”
“Except Meg.”
Nathan rose, shook out his fur, and left.
Simon shut down the computer, turned off the lights, and felt like a weight had lifted off him as he walked out of Howling Good Reads. He couldn’t shake off everything human. He wouldn’t shake off Meg, who waited for him at the back door of the Liaison’s Office, her eyes all puffy and skin all blotchy.
He ran a hand over her short black hair and gave her a scritch behind the ear.
“Simon?” she said in a small voice. “Can we go home?”
“Sure. Let me get the BOW.”
He found one of the bakery boxes in the back of the BOW. Since he didn’t think Meg had eaten much today, he welcomed Tess’s thoughtfulness.
As he backed the BOW out of the garage and waited for Meg to shut the garage door, he glanced toward the efficiency apartments, then shook his head.
He’d had enough. They’d all had enough. The Owlgard would keep watch tonight, but for the rest of this day, Lieutenant Montgomery would have to take care of the Lizzy on his own.
Watersday, Maius 12
W
hile Monty had been at his apartment dealing with the break-in, and Ruth Stuart had been watching Lizzy, his team had brought a mattress from one of the other efficiency apartments so that he wouldn’t have to spend another night in a sleeping bag on the hard floor. They’d brought enough food for him and Lizzy for the next couple of days. And someone had selected five movies that he hoped would be suitable for a seven-year-old human girl.
Distractions. Diversions. Care.
Monty sat in the stuffed chair and put his arms around Lizzy when she settled on his lap.
She looked at him with those big eyes. “I just wanted to ride a pony.”
Why was she so stuck on that? Of course, he wasn’t sure he could explain to a child how dangerous the ponies were when they shrugged off that harmless-looking form.
“Grandma Borden would have let me,” Lizzy said.
He knew what to say about
that
. “I don’t think Grandma Borden would have allowed you to ride a pony. She would have said they were smelly and you’d get dirty.”
But the woman might have raised a fuss because someone had denied her granddaughter, and denying a Borden
anything
was not acceptable. Fortunately, the family didn’t have the wealth or status to live up to their pretensions.
“And Grandma Twyla would have called you on being discourteous and
making a fuss when Miss Meg had already told you the ponies were special and weren’t for riding.”
“But—”
“No, Lizzy.”
She pouted, and he noted the calculating look in her eyes, as if she was waiting to see what effect it would have.
Lizzy hadn’t done that a few months ago. She hadn’t been like that before he’d been transferred to Lakeside and had to leave her—had to leave both of them—because Elayne had refused to come with him.
But Elayne had been like that. Funny how he’d never allowed himself to see it. Oh, Elayne was far more subtle about it when she wanted to get her own way, but when the behavior was presented in a child’s broad strokes, he couldn’t deny that Lizzy was mimicking her mother.
Have to tell her,
he thought. “Lizzy . . . You were very brave to ride the train by yourself and find me. Some bad people were looking for you and Mommy, and she did the right thing, having you ride the train without her.”
“Will Mommy be here soon?”
“No, baby.” Tears stung Monty’s eyes. “No. Mommy was hurt very badly and . . . she died. She can’t be with us anymore.”
Lizzy put her head on his shoulder. “Is Miss Meg going to die because I was bad?”
“No. Miss Meg will be fine in a couple of days.” How could he put this to her without scaring her too much? “One of the bad men followed you to Lakeside, so we need to stay in the Courtyard for a while.”
Her head came up. “What about Boo Bear?”
“He’s with Captain Burke. He’s helping the police with the investigation. He misses you, but he’s being very brave. Like you.”
She nodded, settling down again.
Did she understand? Maybe she understood as much as she could handle. Maybe it would be easier being in a place that held no reminders?
Gods, did he even have a photograph of Elayne so that Lizzy would have
something
?
“You’ll be safe in the Courtyard,” he said. “But staying here means brushing off your good manners and minding the grown-ups who are looking after you when I can’t be here.” He looked at her, his darling girl. “Do you know the difference between human police and Wolf police?”
“The Wolf police bite you if you’re bad?”
“Yes,” Monty said. “They bite you if you’re bad. Today you got off with what my captain would call a caution, meaning now you know you did a bad thing, so the next time . . .”
Lizzy clicked her teeth together to demonstrate biting.
Monty nodded. “That’s exactly right.”
“Daddy? I’m hungry.”
They ate sandwiches from Nadine’s Bakery & Café, then watched one of the movies. He wondered if whoever had chosen the movies had picked them because of viewing age or to show Lizzy a few truths about the beings who surrounded her. Whatever the reason, the story about the Wolf Team provided some sharp lessons for both of them.
Watersday, Maius 12
L
ate that night, as a quiet, soaking rain fell over the Courtyard, the Owlgard watched Douglas Burke tuck a paper bag against Howling Good Reads’ back door.
Responding to the Owls’ call, Vladimir and Nyx Sanguinati retrieved the bag and flowed over to Sparkles and Junk, where Jenni Crowgard, Jester Coyotegard, Jane Wolfgard, and Blair Wolfgard waited for them.
One by one the jewels in the bag were stored in a small, velvet-lined wooden box, replaced by sparklies they found in the shop. After studying the fancy ring, Blair made a fair copy using fine wire and bits of glass that Jenni removed from a piece of costume jewelry.
Their tasks completed, they replaced the bag inside Boo Bear, and Jane, being the Wolfgard bodywalker, stitched up the back seam. After some discussion, they didn’t restore the arm and leg, leaving the bear looking the same as when it arrived.
At the first hint of daylight, Vlad placed the paper bag outside of HGR’s back door, shifted to his smoke form, and waited in the shadows. A few minutes after that, the Owls reported a car parking across the street from the Courtyard. A minute after that, Douglas Burke quietly made his way to HGR’s back door and retrieved the paper bag.
As soon as Burke drove away, Vlad joined Nyx, who had waited for him in the Market Square. Together, they took the small box to Grandfather Erebus’s
marble home in the Chambers, a place where no human could search for the jewels and survive.
* * *
Setting two candlesticks on the gleaming wood of an antique table, Vlad lit the candles and watched Grandfather Erebus tip the box and gently spill the jewels over the dark wood.
“A shining fortune,” Erebus said. “Humans have killed each other for a single gem. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill a woman and child for what these pretty stones could buy.”
“Things,” Vlad said, revealing his fangs. “They kill for
things.
”
Erebus stirred the stones. “That could be said of us too.”
“We kill for food, to protect our land and homes. To protect our kin.”
“Food, land, homes. Those are important things that are worth protecting, but they are still things, Vladimir. How much food do you think these pretties could buy?”
“You can’t buy what isn’t there.” Vlad considered what he’d just said. When, exactly, had this talk about food shortages started?
He stared at the jewels. “Maybe the food isn’t there because it’s already been purchased. Maybe the jewels were the payment. But why hoard food and let people think they and their young will go hungry?”
“We will see the answer soon enough. Hunger can be a sharp master.” Erebus swept the jewels back into the velvet-lined wooden box. “Now. Tell me about the humans who were breeding the sweet blood. Have they been found?”
“No.” Vlad swallowed bitterness. “I’ve talked to Sanguinati who live in the regions where the abandoned girls were found or where the bodies of the babies were discovered. As far as they can tell, no one is searching for the farms. No one is searching for the humans who ran those farms.”
“What about the police, the government here?”
“You’d have to ask Elliot about the government. The police here
did
search. This I know as truth. They searched and confirmed there wasn’t such a place anywhere around Lakeside. No abandoned girls. No dead babies.”
Erebus said nothing. Then, “It is not just things that have a price, Vladimir. Loyalty also can be bought.” He touched the box with a thick yellowed fingernail. “Since humans won’t search for the farms, then we will. Tell the Sanguinati to find the humans who hurt the sweet blood and killed their young.”
“Should I talk to the girls at the lake? Their kin could destroy the buildings once they’re found.”
“Wood. Stone. Glass.” Erebus shook his head. “Leave the buildings untouched. They mean nothing. Find the humans who worked in those places and kill them.”
“Should the bodies be left where they can be found?” Meaning, did Erebus want humans to know that the Sanguinati had delivered their own form of justice?
Erebus looked at him. Vlad wasn’t sure if the astonishment was real or feigned.
“After the Sanguinati have fed, there is no reason to waste the meat, Vladimir,” Erebus said, his voice a quiet scold. “No, no. Take the meat into the wild country where it will be useful. There are many there besides the
terra indigene
who will welcome easy food for their young.”
Earthday, Maius 13
T
he girl huddled under the patchwork quilt and listened as the Wolves on the other side of the door woke up. Big yawns, soft vocalizing that reminded her of the howls she’d heard the night before. Then a female voice saying, “Jackson, make some toast. I’ll scramble a couple of these eggs for the sweet blood.”
They meant her. They wouldn’t call her
cs821
. They said it wasn’t a name.
Sweet blood wasn’t a name either, but calling her that didn’t offend them.
The female, Grace, had brought her pajamas yesterday and another change of clothes. Underpants and socks were tucked into one of the drawers in the desk. The rest of the clothes hung on pegs on the wall, including a long, thick sweater.
The girl slipped out of bed and dashed for the bathroom. She shivered while she peed, while she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. Hurrying, she stripped off the pajamas and put on jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, and the thick sweater. She had one sock on when the door opened and Grace and Jackson walked in.
“We don’t know how to cook many human foods,” Grace said. “But I have learned to scramble eggs, and Jackson made you some toasted bread.” She set a plate on the desk. Jackson set a glass of white liquid beside the plate.
Grace left the room. Jackson lingered, studying her.
He said she could ask. Did she have the courage to ask? It could be a trick to
see if she was still tempted to do the thing she wasn’t allowed to do. The Walking Names always tried to trick her. But Jackson was a Wolf. He knew Meg.
A test, then. But this time, she wouldn’t be the only one being tested.
“Could I have a pencil and some paper?”
A thoughtful silence before Jackson said, “A black pencil or colored pencil?”
She felt her breath catch, felt a tingle in her hands. But she wasn’t brave enough to ask for both. “Whatever no one else is using.”
Another thoughtful silence. “The trading post isn’t open on Earthdays. I will see what we have here. Eat your breakfast, sweet blood.”
He left, closing the door. She turned on the lamp beside the bed. Wolves might not have trouble seeing in barely daylight, but she wanted a better look at the food before she ate any of it.
Sitting at the desk, she picked up the glass. Sniffed. Cautiously tasted. She was pretty sure it was milk, but it tasted different, more potent than anything she’d been given in the . . . in that place.
The toast was a little burned at the edges; the scrambled eggs, like the milk, didn’t taste quite like what she’d had before, but it was good and she was hungry.
After the meal, she went into the bathroom to wash her hands and brush her teeth. When she came out, Jackson stood in the doorway, holding a wooden tray. He set it on the bed, revealing six sheets of paper and a set of colored pencils. Red, green, blue, yellow, orange, brown, black, pink. From training images, she identified an eraser and a small handheld pencil sharpener.
“This is what I could find.” Jackson stepped away from the bed.
“Thank you.”
He picked up the used dishes and left.
Sitting on the bed, she examined each pencil, touched the paper.
No one burst into the room, yelling at her. No one took away the pencils and paper. No one bound her hands as punishment, leaving her dependent on the Walking Names for every personal need.
Feeling bolder, she studied the patchwork quilt. Then she picked up a pencil and filled one sheet of paper reproducing the patterns in the quilt’s material.
She stood up, stretched, got a drink of water, sharpened all the pencils.
Maybe she should do something else for a while. But . . . what? The room held nothing. Could she ask for a book? But she didn’t want to read, she wanted . . .
A howl. Distant. Another howl. Closer to this building.
They had howled last night. She closed her eyes and remembered how the sound had seemed to rise like smoke, painting ghostly shapes on the night sky.
Returning to the bed, she took a clean sheet of paper, picked up a pencil, and began to draw.
