Etched in Bone

by Anne Bishop

  “Are you going to talk to John?” Vlad asked.

  “Yes. He would be a good fit for running the bookstore in Bennett. He’s worked with humans and gets along with them. He could teach youngsters, both human and terra indigene, about running a bookstore. And it would be good to have another Wolf there—one not as quick to bite as Virgil.”

  “So, you know Bennett’s new sheriff?”

  “I do.” And that was why personality would count as much as skill when choosing a potential deputy for the Wolf.

  • • •

  Considering the number of Hawks who had perched on the apartment’s porch railing and the Crows who had settled for spots on the roof or in nearby trees, Monty wasn’t sure how private his talk with his mother had been, but he didn’t care. Most likely, Jimmy was on his way to Lakeside right now, thinking the Courtyard would provide free room and board. But short of wasting police resources to locate a man who, in the eyes of the law, hadn’t committed a crime—at least recently—there was no way to find Jimmy before he reached the city.

  Gods. He didn’t know if Simon or Vlad had any experience dealing with that kind of manipulative personality—someone who didn’t do a damn thing for anyone unless it was the only way to get something for himself. He didn’t know if they had any experience with a human who had a cunning street intelligence and an absolute conviction that no action of his should have any consequences for him. And if there were consequences, that human would dismiss them as insignificant the moment he had slipped away or the next scheme popped into his head.

  Just the thought of Jimmy being here, surrounded by cops, Wolves, and Sanguinati, made Monty shiver. And Tess. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Cyrus James Montgomery tried some scam on Tess. Or what would happen if Jimmy so much as approached Meg Corbyn.

  But it looked like he was going to have to deal with his brother. Mama wasn’t going to put up with nonsense, but standing up against Jimmy’s wheedling, schemes, and outright lies took a toll on her; it always had, even when Jimmy was little and his lies and schemes didn’t have serious repercussions. And unlike Sierra, Mama understood you couldn’t be careless around the Others.

  Before he turned personal business into a professional concern, there was one person Monty wanted to see.

  Having crossed at the intersection of Crowfield Avenue and Main Street, Monty noticed the For Sale sign on the Stag and Hare, the tavern across the street from the Courtyard—the tavern that had provided refuge for HFL supporters and other schemers. Had the owner been among those who had died when the Elders swept through the city? Or was the man selling the place with the intention of buying another tavern in a different part of Lakeside?

  Opening the front door of the Liaison’s Office, Monty nodded to Nathan, who watched him but didn’t challenge.

  “Lieutenant.” Meg came out of the sorting room and stood at the counter. “You just caught me. I was about to close up for the midday break.”

  “Could you give me a couple of minutes before you go?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Meg opened the go-through so that Monty could join her in the sorting room. She closed the Private door partway—the most privacy a human male could have around Meg.

  “There’s something I need to know,” Monty said. He raised a hand as if she’d reached for her silver razor. “It’s not crucial enough to ask for a cut. I had hoped the cards might provide some guidance.”

  Meg studied him, and he studied her. He saw her desire to grab at the excuse to make a cut, to feel the euphoria that came from speaking prophecy. He saw her struggle with the knowledge of how Simon Wolfgard and her friends, both terra indigene and human, would react to her making a cut when she’d managed to hold her addiction at bay for several weeks.

  “I could try the cards,” Meg finally said. She opened a drawer and removed a carved wooden box. She opened the box, removed the stacks of cards, and spread them over the sorting table. Then she placed her hands just above the cards. “What is your question?”

  “What will happen if Cyrus James Montgomery, aka Jimmy, comes to Lakeside? Speak, prophet, and I will listen.” He wasn’t sure if those words were needed when Meg used the cards, but it was part of the ritual of prophecy when she used the razor, so he said the words.

  Meg closed her eyes. Monty waited. Then her hands moved as if she was searching for something by touch. She chose one card, but she frowned and her right hand kept moving over the cards scattered on the table. Finally she chose a second card and sighed, as if freed from a discomfort.

  Meg turned the cards over so they could see the answer.

  The first card showed an explosion. The second card was a hooded figure holding a scythe.

  “I drew that card yesterday.” Meg pointed to the explosion. “I asked a question about Lakeside, and that was the action card.”

  Monty had learned enough about how Meg used the prophecy cards to know she usually selected one card for a simple answer to a question and three cards for a complex answer requiring subject, action, and result. He suspected drawing two cards was unusual. “When you selected the cards yesterday, what was the subject card that preceded the explosion?”

  “A travel card—train/bus/car. The action card was the explosion.”

  “And the result?”

  “Future undecided.” She looked troubled.

  Monty felt equally troubled. “Thank you, Meg.”

  “Miss Twyla came by this morning. She mentioned him too. Cyrus James. She said I should stay away from him because of what I am.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true. Jimmy would try to use your . . . talent . . . for his own benefit. If you obliged him even once, the next thing you know he would be bringing friends around and pressuring you into reading the cards for them—or making a cut if the cards weren’t providing a satisfactory answer.”

  Meg looked alarmed. “Bringing strangers into the Courtyard would be dangerous and cause trouble.”

  “Yes, it would.” Jimmy had a knack for starting something, squeezing what he could from it, and then walking away just before things went sour and escalated into real trouble. Starting something that involved Meg wouldn’t be trouble; it would be lethal.

  Meg put the cards back into the box, forming stacks that fit the space but not trying to put the decks together. “I’d better close up. I’m meeting Simon for lunch.”

  Monty waited for her to lock up, then walked with her to the back door of A Little Bite. Simon wasn’t there yet, and Monty felt relieved. He wasn’t ready to have a chat with Wolfgard yet.

  First he would talk to Kowalski and Debany, would be honest with them about the potential damage his brother could do if—or when—Jimmy arrived in Lakeside. Then he would talk to Captain Burke and Agent O’Sullivan, would tell them about the cards Meg had drawn in answer to his question. And finally he would talk to Simon about the brother who obeyed the law only when it suited him. Of course, human law didn’t apply in the Courtyard, and Monty already knew the hard choice he would make—would have to make—if the Wolves went after Jimmy.

  To: Tolya Sanguinati, Urgent

  Officer Debany is concerned because Barbara Ellen is moving into a house with a male named Buddy. Do you know him? Is he a suitable mate for her? Please reply as soon as possible.

  —Vlad

  To: Vladimir Sanguinati, Urgent

  Buddy is a suitable roommate for Barbara Ellen, but he is not a suitable mate. Buddy is a parakeet.

  —Tolya

  Dear Meg,

  These are sketches of my friend Amy Wolfgard. Whenever I’m outside drawing, she tries to steal my pencils. I thought she was going to chew on them, like Wolves chew on twigs to clean their teeth. Then, just this week, she shifted to (mostly) human form, and I discovered she’d been trying to indicate her interest in what I was doing. She wants to draw too, and trying to take a pencil was her request
for me to play, to share. I want to show her how to draw, but I don’t know how. I can’t explain what I’m doing or how she can do the same thing. No one taught me; I just hold a pencil and things get drawn on the paper.

  Grace Wolfgard went down to the Intuit village here at Sweetwater to see if their little bookstore had any books about how to draw, but they didn’t. Jackson and some Intuit men even went farther down the road to Endurance, the human town. What’s left of the human town.

  Where do the people who survived the Elders go if they want to leave the place where they live now? Jackson said the people in Endurance were fools for packing up their cars and sneaking off in the middle of the night. He said they should have left at dawn and traveled during the daylight hours because all the humans had been warned that there is no safety in the dark. But some of the people didn’t listen, and now the Ravens and Eagles are flying over the roads and telling the Wolves and Intuits where to find the cars—and what’s left of the bodies.

  The people who remained in the town are going to stay. They told Jackson and some of the Intuits that this was never a kind place to humans, but they would endure as their ancestors endured. That’s what I overheard Jackson tell Grace.

  Nothing feels different in the terra indigene settlement. Well, Jackson and Grace have decided all the youngsters should have some book learning. They’ve hired an Intuit teacher to come up to the settlement to teach everyone who wants to learn how to read and write and do sums. So every morning, the Wolves haul a rolling blackboard to a shady spot, and youngsters from all the gards—Eagles, Ravens, Hawks, Wolves, even one of the Panthers—gather to listen to the teacher. Most don’t shift to a human form; I don’t think most of them have ever tried. But we all listen. Grace said that even if this is simple for me and something I learned before, I need to pay attention because I need to set an example for the rest of the youngsters about how to behave during school. I think I’m doing a good job most of the time, but sometimes when I’m listening to the teacher I slide to a different place where I still hear her voice but it’s far away. And then I blink and there’s a drawing filling a page of my notebook and everyone is watching me, including the teacher. But no one says anything. No one threatens to cut off my fingers like they did when we lived in the compound. Jackson just comes over to where we’re having class and removes the drawing from my notebook, and the teacher starts talking again.

  Grace says the young cassandra sangue who are living with the Intuits are doing well. They have structured days that include schooling and chores appropriate for their age. They also get to experience a little bit of new every day. So do I. The land around our settlement is the same and different every day. I like it.

  Could you look in your bookstore and see if there is a book to teach someone how to draw? I’ll pay for it, once I figure out how to do that.

  Your friend,

  Hope Wolfsong

  CHAPTER 4

  Moonsday, Messis 6

  John Wolfgard looked at Vlad, then focused on Simon. “Are you sure?”

  “We’re sure,” Simon replied. “You know how to run a bookstore, and you know how to work with humans. And having another Wolf in Bennett would be a good thing.” He studied the other Wolf before adding, “I’m not telling you that you have to go. It’s your choice. There are only two other Wolves there right now, so it will be a small pack for hunting prey.”

  “But you won’t have to depend on what you catch being the only food available,” Vlad said. “Bennett has plenty of food for the next few months or more.”

  John thought for a moment. “Is one of the other Wolves dominant?”

  “Virgil,” Simon said. He’d wondered how Virgil and Tolya had confirmed which of them was the dominant predator. Since Tolya was still in charge of the town and, as sheriff, Virgil technically worked for him, the Wolf must have realized instinctively how deadly the Sanguinati could be.

  “When do I leave?” John asked.

  “As soon as possible. They need to get the stores up and running again. I’ll write the travel letter this evening.”

  “Perhaps John should hold off catching the train for a day or two,” Vlad said. “It will be easier if a group travels together, especially if there are Simple Life folk among Bennett’s prospective new residents.”

  Simon nodded. The first day of the job fair began in a couple of hours—the farm and ranch workers. He hoped there would be a few humans suitable to send out to help the residents of Bennett and Prairie Gold.

  When John left to pack his belongings and consider his new assignment, Simon let out a sigh. The good-natured Wolf had been a great help during the years when Howling Good Reads was open to the general public. But now the Courtyard stores would serve a different, more enclosed purpose, and John’s easy temper would be more valuable to Tolya in a place where neither humans nor terra indigene had had much contact with one another.

  “That takes care of John,” Simon said. “You can take the lead with our next employee.”

  Vlad gave him a sour look. “So I get to handle the exploding fluffball? Why?”

  “Because you do it so well. And I’ll be right behind you.”

  Vlad muttered a nasty comment that Simon pretended not to hear.

  • • •

  “Assistant manager? Really?” Merri Lee’s smile showed a lot of teeth. Since she was human, they were small teeth and not intimidating in any way.

  “Yes, really,” Vlad replied, giving her a warm smile that didn’t show his teeth. Somehow revealing fangs seemed like one-upmanship.

  Merri Lee’s smile faded. “But what about Meg? The work I do with Meg?”

  “Simon and I understand that some flexibility is required since you can’t predict when Meg will need your assistance. However, for the time needed to work on The Blood Prophets Guide, perhaps you could work with Meg after the midday break, before she makes her deliveries? Ruthie would also be available then since the human young have school in the mornings and are watched by other adults in the afternoons.”

  Merri Lee nodded. “We could work that out.”

  “Either Simon or I will be in the store most of the time, so you won’t be completely on your own.”

  “Okay.” She gave them another beaming smile. “This is great. Really great. When do I start? Can I order books?”

  A happy fluffball could be as unnerving as an angry fluffball. “You can make recommendations, but for the time being, Simon or I will approve the final list to send to the publishers.” Based on the timidly reported news about the condition of the remaining human-controlled cities throughout Thaisia, getting books out of the publishers in Toland might be problematic. Simon had sent letters to all the Intuit and terra indigene publishers he knew about in the Northeast, Southeast, and High North. Until they heard back, they couldn’t say what would fill the bookstore’s shelves.

  “Can I run over to the Liaison’s Office and tell Meg? I guess I should ask Tess, since I’m working at A Little Bite today.” Merri Lee darted through the archway, shouting, “Tess! I’ve been promoted!”

  “Do you think Tess will mind?” Vlad asked. When they’d considered who could become their full-time employee after John left, Merri Lee had been the obvious choice because she’d already been putting some hours in at the store and could handle the terra indigene who came in—even the Wolves from the Addirondak packs who came to Lakeside for a few days for just that kind of controlled interaction with humans.

  But they hadn’t considered that Tess might not be pleased to lose her best human employee.

  On the other hand, the color of her hair and the amount of curl were clear indications of Tess’s mood. If it was any color except brown when she learned about Merri Lee’s promotion, he and Simon would find work to do in some other part of the Courtyard until she calmed down.

  “She’ll still have Julia Hawkgard working with her, as well a
s Nadine Fallacaro,” Simon said. “And she’ll have the Sierra to wait on customers and do other work.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  Simon didn’t want to agree, but finally, reluctantly, he said, “No, it’s not.”

  They tensed when Tess suddenly appeared in the archway, her hair solid green and coiling. “You don’t get Merri Lee until the job fair is done. After that, the whole Business Association will discuss the reassignment of human employees.” She left as suddenly as she’d appeared.

  Vlad stared at the empty archway. For years they had worked with Tess without knowing what she was, beyond that she was a deadly form of terra indigene. Knowing she was one of the rare forms—a Harvester, a Plague Rider—didn’t make working with her easier. She was one of Namid’s fiercest predators—not as lethal as the Elementals or the Elders, but more than a match for most of the shifter forms.

  “That went pretty well,” Simon said. He looked out HGR’s big front windows. “Come on. We’d better get ready for the humans. They’re starting to arrive.”

  “This would be more enjoyable if we could eat a few of them.” Vlad shook his head. Even potential employees had to be considered nonedible. “Forget I said that.”

  “I’ll collect the first batch of applications and bring them upstairs for us to review,” Simon said.

  Vlad went upstairs to HGR’s office and wondered how he and Simon would select potential employees when their own knowledge of the job consisted of herd cattle, ride horses, and don’t piss off the Elders and get eaten.

  • • •

  “Tess? Do you have a minute?”

  Tess turned her head toward Nadine Fallacaro but didn’t look at the woman. When A Little Bite had served any human who came in for a cup of coffee and a sandwich or pastry, it had been easy to take tiny sips of their life energy. Not enough to damage them, not even enough to be noticed by the humans, especially in the morning, when the caffeine from the coffee would mask the little extra bit of fatigue. With all the other kinds of food available, those sips had been enough to sustain her, if not satisfy her.