Written In Red: A Novel of the Others
Page 1
ALSO BY ANNE BISHOP
THE BLACK JEWELS SERIES
Daughter of the Blood
Heir to the Shadows
Queen of the Darkness
The Invisible Ring
Dreams Made Flesh
Tangled Webs
The Shadow Queen
Shalador’s Lady
Twilight’s Dawn
THE EPHEMERA SERIES
Sebastian
Belladonna
Bridge of Dreams
THE TIR ALAINN TRILOGY
The Pillars of the World
Shadows and Light
The House of Gaian
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Anne Bishop, 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Bishop, Anne.
Written in red: a novel of the Others/Anne Bishop.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-101-61505-8
1. Fantasy fiction. I. Title.
PS3552.I7594W75 2013
813'.54—dc23 2012036432
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
For Blair
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks to Blair Boone for continuing to be my first reader and for all the information about animals and other things that I absorbed and transformed to suit the Others’ world, to Debra Dixon for being second reader, to Doranna Durgin for maintaining the Web site and for information about cow tongues, to Adrienne Roehrich for running the official fan page on Facebook, to Julie Green for telling me about Bully Sticks, to Jennifer Crow for her role as enabler when I talked about the Others Etiquette column, to Nadine Fallacaro for information about things medical, to Douglas Burke for answering questions about police (and for not asking what I would do with the information), and to Pat Feidner for her support and encouragement. Thanks to Kristen Britain, Starr Corcoran, Julie Czerneda, Claire Eamer, Lorne Kates, and Paula Lieberman for their input about stores for the Market Square and the surrounding neighborhood.
A special thanks to the following people who loaned their names to characters, knowing that the name would be the only connection between reality and fiction: Elizabeth Bennefeld, Blair Boone, Douglas Burke, Starr Corcoran, Jennifer Crow, Lorna MacDonald Czarnota, Julie Czerneda, Roger Czerneda, Merri Lee Debany, Michael Debany, Chris Fallacaro, Dan Fallacaro, Mike Fallacaro, Nadine Fallacaro, Mantovani “Monty” Gay, Julie Green, Lois Gresh, Ann Hergott, Danielle Hilborn, Heather Houghton, Lorne Kates, Allison King, and John Wulf.
Contents
Also by Anne Bishop
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Geography
Maps
A Brief History of the World
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
GEOGRAPHY
NAMID—THE WORLD
CONTINENTS/LAND MASSES (so far)
Afrikah
Cel-Romano/Cel-Romano Alliance of Nations
Felidae
Fingerbone Islands
Storm Islands
Thaisia
Tokhar-Chin
Brittania/Wild Brittania
Great Lakes—Superior, Tala, Honon, Etu, and Tahki
Other lakes—Feather Lakes/Finger Lakes
River—Talulah/Talulah Falls
Cities or villages—Hubb NE (aka Hubbney), Jerzy, Lakeside, Podunk, Sparkletown, Talulah Falls, Toland
DAYS OF THE WEEK
Earthday
Moonsday
Sunsday
Windsday
Thaisday
Firesday
Watersday
This map was created by a geographically challenged author who put in only the bits she needed for the story.
A Brief History of the World
Long ago, Namid gave birth to all kinds of life, including the beings known as humans. She gave the humans fertile pieces of herself, and she gave them good water. Understanding their nature and the nature of her other offspring, she also gave them enough isolation that they would have a chance to survive and grow. And they did.
They learned to build fires and shelters. They learned to farm and build cities. They built boats and fished in the Mediterran and Black seas. They bred and spread throughout their pieces of the world until they pushed into the wild places. That’s when they discovered that Namid’s other offspring already claimed the rest of the world.
The Others looked at humans and did not see conquerors. They saw a new kind of meat.
Wars were fought to possess the wild places. Sometimes the humans won and spread their seed a little farther. More often, pieces of civilization disappeared, and fearful survivors tried not to shiver when a howl went up in the night or a man, wandering too far from the safety of stout doors and light, was found the next morning drained of blood.
Centuries passed, and the humans built larger ships and sailed across the Atlantik Ocean. When they found virgin land, they built a settlement near the shore. Then they discovered that this land was also claimed by the terra indigene, the earth natives. The Others.
The
terra indigene who ruled the continent called Thaisia became angry when the humans cut down trees and put a plow to land that was not theirs. So the Others ate the settlers and learned the shape of this particular meat, just as they had done many times in the past.
The second wave of explorers and settlers found the abandoned settlement and, once more, tried to claim the land as their own.
The Others ate them too.
The third wave of settlers had a leader who was smarter than his predecessors. He offered the Others warm blankets and lengths of cloth for clothes and interesting bits of shiny in exchange for being allowed to live in the settlement and have enough land to grow crops. The Others thought this was a fair exchange and walked off the boundaries of the land that the humans could use. More gifts were exchanged for hunting and fishing privileges. This arrangement satisfied both sides, even if one side regarded its new neighbors with snarling tolerance and the other side swallowed fear and made sure its people were safely inside the settlement’s walls before nightfall.
Years passed and more settlers arrived. Many died, but enough humans prospered. Settlements grew into villages, which grew into towns, which grew into cities. Little by little, humans moved across Thaisia, spreading out as much as they could on the land they were allowed to use.
Centuries passed. Humans were smart. So were the Others. Humans invented electricity and plumbing. The Others controlled all the rivers that could power the generators and all the lakes that supplied fresh drinking water. Humans invented steam engines and central heating. The Others controlled all the fuel needed to run the engines and heat the buildings. Humans invented and manufactured products. The Others controlled all the natural resources, thereby deciding what would and wouldn’t be made in their part of the world.
There were collisions, of course, and some places became dark memorials for the dead. Those memorials finally made it clear to human government that the terra indigene ruled Thaisia, and nothing short of the end of the world would change that.
So it comes to this current age. Small human villages exist within vast tracks of land that belong to the Others. And in larger human cities, there are fenced parks called Courtyards that are inhabited by the Others who have the task of keeping watch over the city’s residents and enforcing the agreements the humans made with the terra indigene.
There is still sharp-toothed tolerance on one side and fear of what walks in the dark on the other. But if they are careful, the humans survive.
Most of the time, they survive.
CHAPTER 1
Half blinded by the storm, she stumbled into the open area between two buildings. Hoping to hide from whomever was hunting for her as well as get some relief from the snow and wind, she followed an angled wall and ducked around the corner. Her socks and sneakers were soaked, and her feet were so cold she couldn’t feel them. She knew that wasn’t good, wasn’t safe, but she had taken the clothing available just as she had taken the opportunity to run.
No sound of footsteps that would confirm she was being followed, but that didn’t mean anything. Blocked by the wall, even the sounds of the slow-moving traffic were muted.
She had to find shelter. It was too cold to be out here tonight. As part of her training, she’d been shown pictures of people who had frozen to death, so she knew she couldn’t stay out here much longer. But the city shelters that provided a place for the homeless would be the first places the hunters would look for her.
Was she going to die tonight? Was this the storm that was the beginning of the end? No. She wouldn’t consider that possibility. She hadn’t done this much and come this far for it all to end before she had a chance to begin. Besides, she hadn’t seen other parts of the prophecy yet. She hadn’t seen the dark-haired man wearing a green pullover sweater. She didn’t have to worry about dying until she saw him.
That didn’t mean she could afford to be stupid.
The building at the back of the open area drew her attention, mostly because it provided the only light. Peeking around the corner to reassure herself that she was still alone, she hurried toward it. Maybe she could figure out an excuse to stay inside for a few minutes—just long enough for her feet to thaw.
But the light, which had seemed so bright and hopeful a moment before, was merely the overnight lighting. The place was closed. Still, there was enough light for her to see the sign above the glass door—a sign that would have chilled her more than the snow and wind if she hadn’t felt so desperate.
LAKESIDE COURTYARD
H.L.D.N.A.
Human Law Does Not Apply. She was standing on land that belonged to the Others. She might be momentarily safe from human predators, but if she was caught here, she was at the mercy of beings that only looked human, and even someone who had lived a confined life knew what happened to humans who were imprudent in their encounters with the terra indigene.
A second sign was taped to the inside of the door. She stared at it for a long time, despite her numb feet and the freezing temperature.
WANTED:
HUMAN LIAISON
APPLY AT HOWLING GOOD READS
(AROUND THE CORNER)
A job. A way to earn money for food and lodging. A place where she could hide for a while. A place where, even if she was found, the hunters couldn’t take her back because human law did not apply.
Howling Good Reads. It sounded like a name for an Others store.
She could die here. Most people who tangled with the Others died, one way or another. But based on what she had seen in the prophecy, she was going to die anyway, so for once in her life, what happened to her would be on her terms.
That much decided, she tromped back to the sidewalk and hurried to the corner. When she turned right on Crowfield Avenue, she saw two people walk out of a store. Lights and life. She headed toward both.
* * *
Taking his place behind the checkout counter, Simon Wolfgard glanced at the clock on the wall, then said,
The howl from the back of the bookstore produced the expected female squeals and more manly grunts of surprise.
Raising his voice to be heard by the humans within sight, he said, “Ten minutes to closing.”
Not that they didn’t know that. The howl was the ten-minute warning—just as the Wolf who took up a position at the door was the bookstore’s own brand of security. A would-be shoplifter having his hand bitten off instilled a strong sense of honesty in the rest of the humans who came to Howling Good Reads. Having to walk over the blood—and walk past the Wolf who was still crunching on a couple of fingers—left a lasting impression, not to mention a few nightmares.
Didn’t stop the monkeys from coming back the next day to stare at the bloodstains and whisper to one another as they browsed the contents of the store. The thrill of rounding a shelving unit and coming face-to-face with one of the Others in its animal form—and the more chilling thrill of sometimes seeing swift and terrible violence—tended to increase the sale of horror and thriller novels and helped the bookstore maintain an acceptable profit.
Not that any store in the Courtyard needed a profit to stay in business. The stores were run for the convenience of the terra indigene who lived in the Courtyard and provided a way for the rest of the Others to receive the human-made goods they wanted. It was more his own desire to understand the way businesses were run—and test the honesty of the human companies he dealt with—that gave Simon the push to keep his store in the black every month.
But Howling Good Reads didn’t follow human retail practices when it came to hours of operation. HGR closed promptly at nine p.m. on the evenings it was open to humans, and some of the staff didn’t hesitate to shift shapes and nip lingering customers who thought the store’s listed closing was a suggestion rather than a firm time.
He rang up a few sales, more than he’d expected on a night when the sensible would have been tucked in at home to avoid subzero wind chills and wind-whipped snow that had as much bite as any Wolf. Of course, some of
the monkeys lived nearby and used the bookstore and adjoining coffee shop, A Little Bite, as their social gathering places when they didn’t want to spend an evening drinking at the taverns on Main Street.
Humans, Simon reminded himself. He adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses that he didn’t need for vision but thought made him look a little gawky and more approachable. Call them humans when you’re in the store. That way you’re less likely to use the slur when talking to an employee. It’s hard enough to find help we can tolerate. No sense driving away the ones we have by insulting them.
The word had traveled across the ocean from Afrikah, where the Liongard referred to humans as hairless, gibbering monkeys. After the terra indigene in Thaisia saw pictures of monkeys, they adopted the word because it fit so many of the humans they encountered. But he was a member of the Business Association that ran the integrated stores and Courtyard shops, as well as being the leader of the Lakeside Courtyard, so he tried not to be insulting—at least not out loud.
“Simon.”
He turned toward the voice that sounded like warm syrup as the woman shrugged into a hooded parka. The movement lifted the bottom of her short sweater, revealing a couple of inches of toned belly that still looked softly bitable.
Plenty of human females came sniffing around the store, hoping to be invited for a walk on the wild side, but there was something about this one that made him want to sink his fangs into her throat instead of nibble on her belly.
“Asia.” He tipped his head, a gesture that was both greeting and dismissal.
She didn’t take the hint. She never did. Asia Crane had set her sights on him from the first day she walked into Howling Good Reads. That was part of the reason he didn’t like her. The harder she pushed to get close to him, the more he felt like a challenge to be conquered and the less he wanted her around. But she never pushed so hard that he could justify attacking her for being in his store.