by Anne Bishop
Perched on Julian Farrow’s raised knee, Aggie cleaned her feathers while she kept watch.
CHAPTER 76
Vicki
Watersday, Sumor 8
It didn’t matter if I wanted to go back to The Jumble’s beach or go on to Silence Lodge. I had reached the point of no return. I was done, exhausted—and hurt. My side felt strange, but I was too scared to touch it and find out why.
A wave caught me in the face, and I thought my side would rip as I coughed up the water I’d swallowed.
Then I saw the shapes coming toward me, saw a delicate dorsal fin, the flick of a tail. They surfaced all around me. If I hadn’t been so brutally tired, I would have been terrified.
Imagine a creature whose ancestors had been a giant piranha that had mated with a lake-dwelling species of human. They had a humanlike torso that ended in that kind of tail shown in sketches of mermaids. The backs of their bodies were a blue-black that changed to a silvery-gray front. Big fish eyes. And triangular, interlocking teeth that could tear flesh from bone, easily stripping a carcass in minutes.
Elders. The long-standing, or long-swimming, residents of Lake Silence.
They raised their heads above the water, bobbing to keep the gills in their necks wet.
“I can’t swim anymore,” I said. I didn’t know if I was asking for help or telling them that this prey didn’t have the strength to fight them.
Two of them bobbed under the water on either side of me. When they surfaced, my arms were around their narrow shoulders, holding me up. I wasn’t much help, but they maneuvered until we faced the shoreline near Silence Lodge.
An undulation of water lifted all of us, as if we were all riding on the back of something that had risen from deep in the lake to become a long, gentle swell. An arched back that rose and went back down. But the motion had brought all of us noticeably closer to the shore.
The third time that undulation occurred, I imagined I saw a giant head and shoulders right in front of me—a body that was never separate from the lake but still distinct.
We were in sight of the shore faster than I would have thought possible. Silence Lodge didn’t have my nice beach. Dark pebbles, maybe shale. Shale had sharp edges. Landing on it would hurt. Not that I had a choice. I wasn’t sure my companions understood human speech, and they weren’t likely to spend their time pondering the preferences of shoreline material.
My vision blurred. The Elders who had been holding me up dropped away. And I rode that last undulation to the shore alone.
CHAPTER 77
Ilya
Watersday, Sumor 8
“To the shore,” Ilya told the rest of the Sanguinati. “Hurry.”
He shifted to smoke and rushed to the shore, followed by Natasha and Boris. The other Sanguinati spread out to cover the rest of the shore in front of the lodge. As soon as he reached the water’s edge, Ilya shifted back to human form and saw the swell—and the beings riding it.
Twice more a swell formed under the beings, carrying them closer to shore. Then the Elders swam away, leaving Victoria to ride the final swell alone. As the Lady of the Lake lifted Victoria DeVine above the stony shore, Ilya raised his arms to catch The Jumble’s caretaker.
CHAPTER 78
Grimshaw
Watersday, Sumor 8
As Grimshaw marched Yorick Dane to the big screened porch at the back of the main house, he looked for Julian. Instead of spotting his friend, he saw Crows gathering near something on the beach. The land sloped, denying him a visual of the beach itself, but he could guess what would attract so many of the Crowgard.
Gods above and below.
Cougar appeared over the rise, moving away from the beach. The Panther saw him and stopped. As Grimshaw watched, Cougar looked back toward the beach. Then a front paw changed into a furry human hand that gave him a thumbs-up before the hand became a paw again and Cougar continued moving toward the cabins.
Somehow that human gesture to indicate something, or someone, was all right disturbed him more than the bodies he’d glimpsed in the past few minutes. But if he understood the message, Julian had survived.
“Osgood!” Grimshaw called as he and Dane approached the porch.
“Sir!” Osgood scanned the area, then unlocked the screen door and held it open while Grimshaw muscled Dane inside. “According to Mrs. Dane, one of the women should be at the lakeside cabins.”
“I’ll check it out.” He pushed Dane into one of the chairs. “Stay there.”
“Where’s Darren?”
“Where is Vaughn?”
Grimshaw eyed the women. There was fear under the bitchy attitude. “Darren is dead. I think Swinn is dead. I didn’t see Vaughn.” He hadn’t gone looking.
“Why is Yorick in handcuffs?” Constance Dane said. “You can’t arrest him.”
“Yes, I can.” He used the tone of voice that was so polite, so professional, no one had ever mistaken it for anything but a threat.
“Police!” Hargreaves, from the front of the house. Backup had arrived.
“Back here!” Grimshaw bellowed.
Hargreaves appeared in the kitchen doorway. He looked at the women, then at Yorick Dane. “Who is under arrest?”
“All of them,” Grimshaw replied.
“What’s the charge?” Constance Dane demanded, jumping to her feet.
“Fine.” Grimshaw uncuffed Yorick Dane. “Either you’re all under arrest or I chuck you all out the door, and you can take your chances.”
Something near the porch laughed, a sound so full of terrible glee that it made Grimshaw’s body clench, made Hargreaves’s face tighten. Made beads of sweat pop up on the foreheads of the officers standing behind the captain.
“We’ll take them to the police station in Sproing and sort out the charges there,” Hargreaves said. “What are we starting with?”
“Abduction,” Grimshaw replied as his mobile phone rang. “Possibly murder.” He turned away from the people on the porch and covered one ear with a hand in order to hear the person on the phone. “Grimshaw.”
“Bring a doctor and medical equipment to Silence Lodge,” Ilya Sanguinati said.
Leaving the porch, he took several steps away from the house, ignoring Hargreaves’s low protest. “You found Vicki? Do we need to take her to the hospital in Bristol?”
A slight hesitation. “I don’t think she has time to reach Bristol.”
Oh gods. “We’ll be there.” Grimshaw ended the call and shouted, “Julian! Julian! We need to get to Silence Lodge!”
He held his breath and almost gave up, almost turned back to the porch to tell Hargreaves where he was going. Then he saw Julian running up from the direction of the beach, Crowgard flying all around him.
“Grimshaw?” Hargreaves said as he left the porch’s illusion of safety and joined him on the lawn.
He placed the call to the medical office while he waited for Julian to join them. Seeing the Crows land all around them, he resigned himself to a less-than-private report.
“Medical office,” a female voice said.
“This is Officer Grimshaw. Tell Dr. Wallace that the Sanguinati found Vicki DeVine. It sounds like she’s in bad shape, but she’s still alive.”
“I’ll contact the EMTs. Their vehicle is equipped for emergencies.”
“Do that.” He ended the call.
“Hospital?” Julian asked.
Grimshaw shook his head. “Ilya says there isn’t time.” He looked at Hargreaves. “Can you take the lead on processing the scenes and handling the arrests?”
Hargreaves gave him an odd look, which didn’t surprise him. The captain was still his boss, was still the one in charge, and yet he was treating the man like they were of equal rank.
“I can do
that for you,” Hargreaves said. “Would appreciate a call when you know Ms. DeVine’s status.”
Grimshaw nodded. Then he looked at the Crows. “Captain Hargreaves and his men have to collect the bodies and process the scenes, like the cops do in the TV shows. They’re going to be walking around The Jumble, collecting evidence. Can you let everyone else know that it’s all right for them to be here?”
The Crows looked at each other. Then one looked up at him and said, “Caw.”
Taking that as agreement, he and Julian ran down the trails to reach the cruiser and head for the lodge on the other side of the lake.
CHAPTER 79
Aggie
Watersday, Sumor 8
Being considered part of the team made watching all the poking and pecking done by the human police more interesting, but it was still frustrating.
Aggie had never seen a TV cop arrest a dead man. Or parts of a dead man. Maybe Julian Farrow would know?
That was true, and it was sad. But the cops were just human and would never appreciate the edible qualities of fresh eyeballs, so there wasn’t much the Crowgard could do.
The Crowgard living in The Jumble had gathered and then divided, several of them taking watch over each group of humans who were gathering evidence. Most of the Crows hadn’t seen any of the cop and crime shows, hadn’t talked about the stories with Miss Vicki, so they had many questions about what the human police were doing.
Was it usual for them to regurgitate food when they were collecting meat?
Aggie was pretty sure experienced cops didn’t do that—not often anyway. She was also pretty sure most of the experienced cops who had come to help Officer Grimshaw had never seen what an angry Elder could do to a human body. But these cops seemed smart, even if they were human.
The one she was watching collect evidence held up a long piece of shiny string and said, “It’s a garrote.”
Garrote. She knew that word from the Murder game. Humans used it for killing other humans—and maybe smaller terra indigene.
Her cop looked up at the branch where she had perched to watch him. “Is this the reason he died like this? He was attacking the woman who was your friend?”
Was? That word made her sad, but she answered him anyway. “Caw.”
A glint of something caught her eye, but the cop was moving away.
Aggie flew from the branch to the ground. Bit of black cloth. Small finger. And a gold ring clinging to the skin!
She looked at the cop still searching for evidence but moving away. She could pull off the ring, hide it under some leaves. She could . . .
Part of the team. You didn’t hide things from the team.
“Caw.” When he didn’t answer, she tried again. “Caw!”
“Did you find something?” He returned and crouched near where she stood guard over the finger. “I guess you did.”
When he reached for the finger, she pecked him. Couldn’t help it. It was her shiny.
“Hey!”
Sorry. She moved out of pecking range to avoid pecking him again. After all, she was the one who had called him over to take the meat and treasure.
Once he collected the evidence, she flew back up to the branch in the nearest tree to have a better view of what the humans were doing. That’s why she spotted the man walking toward them—a man with red hair tipped with blue and yellow.
“Sir,” her cop said, “you can’t be here. This is a crime scene.”
Don’t make him angry, Aggie thought. Not him. Not in the woods.
Recognizing that what approached him wasn’t human, the cop took a step back.
Fire looked up. “I came to tell Aggie that the human doctor fixed Miss Vicki. She needs to be given medicine at specific times and needs to be watched for a day or two, so the Sanguinati are keeping her at Silence Lodge for the rest of today and tomorrow. They will tell you when you can visit.”
“Caw!” Miss Vicki was alive!
Fire gave her cop a long look, as if memorizing his face. Then he walked away and disappeared.
Miss Vicki was alive. That news was even better than finding a shiny.
CHAPTER 80
Vicki
Watersday, Sumor 8
I woke from a dream where I was at The Jumble, serving raw fish sandwiches to my toothy guests and trying to explain the appeal of pickled herring.
“Easy,” Ilya said. “Don’t struggle.” He restrained me with one hand while opening the blanket wrapped around me with the other. “We thought some fresh air would do you good but didn’t want you to catch a chill. Not in your condition.”
I had a condition? That didn’t sound good.
“Do you want some water? Some juice? There is also chicken soup. I was told it is a good food for humans to eat when they have been ill.”
“I’ve been ill?” I sounded like a frog, so that was possible.
“You were injured.” Ilya took a seat near the lounge chair positioned in a shady spot on the lodge’s top deck.
When he just sat there, looking like he did not want to be the bearer of bad news, I pushed the blanket open a little more in order to take stock. I was wearing a loose tank top and shorts. No bra. Or the bra had somehow missed my breasts and was hugging my ribs. A cast covered my left arm from knuckles to mid-forearm.
“You broke your wrist,” Ilya said.
Right. I hadn’t landed properly after the flying long jump.
“He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ilya said.
“He certainly did!”
Ilya looked pained.
“The man in the business suit. I ran into him when I was running away from Swinn. He meant to hurt me.”
“Not him. The Elder.”
Oh. I remembered saying something about having an “Elder Helps You” card right before making the flying long jump.
I looked at Ilya. I think I squeaked. “That was an Elder? A real Elder?”
“Yes. He . . . Well, the male who threatened you was too close, so the Elder pushed you out of the way. A light swat, something one of their young would hardly notice. But humans are more fragile and . . .”
“Is that why my butt hurts? It’s bruised from a helpful whack?”
“Yes.”
I tried to change positions, then sucked in a breath when the attempt pulled at my side. “What else?”
“One of his claws sliced you along your back and ribs. It’s not deep, but it is a long slice that flapped your skin. It required some stitches. A lot of stitches, actually.”
You know what’s worse than having one of the terra indigene look at you as if deciding which parts to have for lunch? Seeing one of the Sanguinati squirm like he was stuck on a nightmare blind date.
“You bled some, from the wound,” he continued.
I liked him so much better when he was lethal and scary. “Some?”
“Enough that Dr. Wallace decided a transfusion was prudent.”
Oh. Oh. Was that what he didn’t want to tell me? “So I got some . . .” I touched my canine teeth to see if they were longer and sharper.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Victoria. We’re different species.”
“Then . . . ?” By the time I dragged it out of him, I was going to need a nap.
“It turned out Officer Grimshaw had the correct blood type.”
I blinked. Blinked again. “You gave me Grimshaw blood?”
Ilya sat back and studied me. “I realize I have a different view of human blood than you do, but
I’m fairly certain that a transfusion of blood doesn’t include a transfusion of personality.”
“You never know. I could suddenly turn all stern and steely-eyed a percentage of days every month.” I gave him my best narrow-eyed stare, an imitation of the mysterious heroes in some movies, who rode into frontier towns to take on the bad guys.
Ilya sprang out of his chair. “That’s it. I’m calling the doctor. The medication he gave us for you is affecting your brain.”
I stared at the empty chair, openmouthed, until Natasha walked out of the lodge and sat down.
“You shouldn’t tease him,” she said. “He’s been concerned about you, and that’s an unsettling feeling since your kind are . . .” She hesitated.
“Usually considered prey?” I suggested.
“Yes.” She looked relieved that I understood.
The Sanguinati had their own reasons for helping me, for wanting me to run The Jumble. They might look sleek and sophisticated, they might have learned to mimic human behavior better than any other form of terra indigene, but they were, and always would be, predators. And humans would always be their prey, whether or not they chose to be friendly toward a few of us.
I tried to recall what happened when that last wave lifted me toward the shore and the lake Elders released me to wash up alone. I checked my arms, then looked at the skin I could see without lifting up the tank.
“Problem?” Natasha asked.
“I thought I would have some cuts from landing on the shale or the stones or whatever you have on your beach.”
“The Elders told us they were bringing you to the lodge and you were wounded. We went down to the shore to help you.” Natasha grinned, revealing her fangs. “When you washed ashore, you didn’t land on shale; you landed on Ilya.”
I had full-body contact with Mr. Yummy and wasn’t conscious enough to appreciate it? How was that fair?
I did not say that out loud. At least, I hoped I didn’t. Just like I hoped Natasha had another reason for laughing as she walked back into the lodge.
