Marked in Flesh
Page 101
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She blinked at his fierce tone. “Why wouldn’t I tell you? We aren’t receiving many packages for individuals. I don’t think anyone in the Courtyard is ordering anything from catalogs right now, so that’s not unusual.”
“Nothing from that Jack Fillmore who is hunting Theral?”
Oh. That kind of package. “No. Nothing since those chocolates. Maybe he’s left Lakeside.”
“He has the scent of his prey, Meg.” Henry’s voice was a soft rumble. “He’ll keep hunting until he catches her—or we catch him.”
“Then I’ll keep watching.”
“Arroo!”
Meg looked through the doorway into the front room. “So will Nathan.”
Henry folded the paper with the measurements for the box and tucked it into his pocket.
“Henry?” Meg considered the wisdom of asking the question. “Never mind.”
Henry left the Liaison’s Office. Meg listened but didn’t hear the gate to his yard open. Must be going directly to his meeting with Ruth.
She took the supply notebook from the drawer that now held several notebooks covering a number of subjects—including The Blood Prophets Guide. No, there weren’t many packages coming in for individuals, but they had been receiving some of the supplies she had ordered in quantity. She’d have to talk to Simon and the rest of the Business Association about how those supplies would be distributed among the Courtyard’s residents, but that would have to wait.
She’d done as Vlad asked. She hadn’t turned on the TV news or the radio or tried to peek at the newspaper. It hadn’t been said, but it was understood between them that when the repercussions caused by the death of the Wolfgard in the Midwest and Northwest were concluded, Vlad would bring her the office copy of the Lakeside News.
She wondered if she would ever read a newspaper again—and as she wondered, she opened the drawer that held the prophecy cards and brushed her hand over the backs of the cards.
Don’t know enough about working with them, she argued with herself. No one knows if choosing some cards is really the same as prophecy. Blood prophets might be no better at seeing the future than Intuits are when they use these things.
But she felt a pins-and-needles prickle in the hand brushing the cards—a feeling that quickly turned into a buzz.
All right, then. Ask a question. “What are the repercussions from the humans killing the terra indigene?”
She kept brushing her fingers over the cards, picking up a card when touching it turned a prickle into a painful buzz. Keeping her eyes closed, she set the prophecy cards facedown on the counter. One card. Two. Three.
Meg opened her eyes, turned the cards over, and stared at the answer to her question.
The first card was one she thought of as an Elemental card: tornado, hurricane, avalanche, earthquake. The second card was one of the creatures Jester insisted wasn’t make-believe. The third card was the hooded figure holding a scythe.
Meg returned the cards to the drawer, then brushed her hand over all the cards again. “What will happen to Lakeside?”
No prickles of any kind. That couldn’t be right. Something was bound to happen in Lakeside.
She closed her eyes and brushed her hand over the cards again, repeating the question over and over.
Nothing. Then the faintest prickle.
She moved the cards around, using both hands now to locate the source of that prickle.
Found it!
She opened her eyes, looked at the card, and frowned. The only thing on the card was a large question mark. How was that an answer?
Future undecided.
She returned the card and closed the drawer.
She wasn’t going to discuss this with Simon or Vlad or any of her human friends. After all, turning over a few cards wasn’t prophecy.
But what if she cut herself and saw the same image? She would waste skin on a question that had been answered, which would upset Simon and the rest of her friends. And since anyone she asked to listen to the prophecy would argue about the need to make this cut, she would have to swallow the words and endure the agony of not speaking so that the cut wouldn’t be completely wasted.
Future undecided.
For one uncomfortable moment, she wondered if the answer was more about her than about the city. If she couldn’t avoid the lure of the razor, how much of a future would she, or any other cassandra sangue, have?
She picked up her supply notebook and went into the front room, where she would have Nathan’s snoozing company while she checked the list of things the humans—and the Others when they were in human form—would need over the next few months.
Undecided or not, Lakeside would have a future, and so would she. She wasn’t going to believe otherwise.
• • •
<Ruthie smells nervous,> Henry observed.
<Might have something to do with the four of us standing between her and the door,> Tess replied.
<And it’s a small room,> Vlad added. <But the rooms above our social center didn’t need to be large for the way they had been used.>
Simon, Henry noticed, said nothing.
“The human pups need schooling,” Henry began.
“Yes,” Ruthie said. “I know Eve Denby and Lieutenant Montgomery are concerned about getting the children enrolled in a school this fall.”
“They need schooling now.”
She blinked. “Now? But . . . it’s summer.”
“Yes. So they should begin learning the things they must for this season, as our young do.”
“Nothing from that Jack Fillmore who is hunting Theral?”
Oh. That kind of package. “No. Nothing since those chocolates. Maybe he’s left Lakeside.”
“He has the scent of his prey, Meg.” Henry’s voice was a soft rumble. “He’ll keep hunting until he catches her—or we catch him.”
“Then I’ll keep watching.”
“Arroo!”
Meg looked through the doorway into the front room. “So will Nathan.”
Henry folded the paper with the measurements for the box and tucked it into his pocket.
“Henry?” Meg considered the wisdom of asking the question. “Never mind.”
Henry left the Liaison’s Office. Meg listened but didn’t hear the gate to his yard open. Must be going directly to his meeting with Ruth.
She took the supply notebook from the drawer that now held several notebooks covering a number of subjects—including The Blood Prophets Guide. No, there weren’t many packages coming in for individuals, but they had been receiving some of the supplies she had ordered in quantity. She’d have to talk to Simon and the rest of the Business Association about how those supplies would be distributed among the Courtyard’s residents, but that would have to wait.
She’d done as Vlad asked. She hadn’t turned on the TV news or the radio or tried to peek at the newspaper. It hadn’t been said, but it was understood between them that when the repercussions caused by the death of the Wolfgard in the Midwest and Northwest were concluded, Vlad would bring her the office copy of the Lakeside News.
She wondered if she would ever read a newspaper again—and as she wondered, she opened the drawer that held the prophecy cards and brushed her hand over the backs of the cards.
Don’t know enough about working with them, she argued with herself. No one knows if choosing some cards is really the same as prophecy. Blood prophets might be no better at seeing the future than Intuits are when they use these things.
But she felt a pins-and-needles prickle in the hand brushing the cards—a feeling that quickly turned into a buzz.
All right, then. Ask a question. “What are the repercussions from the humans killing the terra indigene?”
She kept brushing her fingers over the cards, picking up a card when touching it turned a prickle into a painful buzz. Keeping her eyes closed, she set the prophecy cards facedown on the counter. One card. Two. Three.
Meg opened her eyes, turned the cards over, and stared at the answer to her question.
The first card was one she thought of as an Elemental card: tornado, hurricane, avalanche, earthquake. The second card was one of the creatures Jester insisted wasn’t make-believe. The third card was the hooded figure holding a scythe.
Meg returned the cards to the drawer, then brushed her hand over all the cards again. “What will happen to Lakeside?”
No prickles of any kind. That couldn’t be right. Something was bound to happen in Lakeside.
She closed her eyes and brushed her hand over the cards again, repeating the question over and over.
Nothing. Then the faintest prickle.
She moved the cards around, using both hands now to locate the source of that prickle.
Found it!
She opened her eyes, looked at the card, and frowned. The only thing on the card was a large question mark. How was that an answer?
Future undecided.
She returned the card and closed the drawer.
She wasn’t going to discuss this with Simon or Vlad or any of her human friends. After all, turning over a few cards wasn’t prophecy.
But what if she cut herself and saw the same image? She would waste skin on a question that had been answered, which would upset Simon and the rest of her friends. And since anyone she asked to listen to the prophecy would argue about the need to make this cut, she would have to swallow the words and endure the agony of not speaking so that the cut wouldn’t be completely wasted.
Future undecided.
For one uncomfortable moment, she wondered if the answer was more about her than about the city. If she couldn’t avoid the lure of the razor, how much of a future would she, or any other cassandra sangue, have?
She picked up her supply notebook and went into the front room, where she would have Nathan’s snoozing company while she checked the list of things the humans—and the Others when they were in human form—would need over the next few months.
Undecided or not, Lakeside would have a future, and so would she. She wasn’t going to believe otherwise.
• • •
<Ruthie smells nervous,> Henry observed.
<Might have something to do with the four of us standing between her and the door,> Tess replied.
<And it’s a small room,> Vlad added. <But the rooms above our social center didn’t need to be large for the way they had been used.>
Simon, Henry noticed, said nothing.
“The human pups need schooling,” Henry began.
“Yes,” Ruthie said. “I know Eve Denby and Lieutenant Montgomery are concerned about getting the children enrolled in a school this fall.”
“They need schooling now.”
She blinked. “Now? But . . . it’s summer.”
“Yes. So they should begin learning the things they must for this season, as our young do.”
