Marked in Flesh
Page 105

 Anne Bishop

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When he reached the Green Complex, Meg stepped out of the summer room.
“Simon? We need to talk. You don’t have to shift. I just need you to listen.”
He wasn’t sure he liked this arrangement of not being able to voice an opinion she could understand, but he could listen this time. He followed her into the summer room. When she sat on a lounge chair, he sat in front of her, his front paws on either side of her feet, bringing him so close her knees brushed his chest.
She told him about the cards she’d drawn when she wondered what would happen because of the death of the Wolves. She told him about the question mark after she asked about Lakeside.
“It wasn’t really a prophecy, but I thought you should know.”
He thought it was a pretty accurate prophecy. Jean had seen a vision of Lakeside being one of the few human places that survived. Now Meg saw an undecided future. After meeting with the Elementals this evening, he would agree with that. Whatever actions and decisions were made by humans and Others in the days ahead would decide Lakeside’s future.
He didn’t want Meg to feel unhappy, so he licked her nose and made her laugh. She stretched out on the lounge chair. He stretched out beside it and thought about human males and females and how females on TV often complained that the male didn’t talk to them, didn’t know how to communicate.
Even when he was in Wolf form, he and Meg communicated just fine. Maybe they communicated better than two humans because she didn’t expect him to talk.
That was an entertaining thing to think about, so he thought and dozed and, when she fell asleep, gave her hand a couple of friendly licks.
CHAPTER 43
Words became thoughts conveyed as a wind that riffled the surface of lakes; as a taste in grass; as the smoke rising from a short-lived natural fire. Those thoughts, those ideas, moved swiftly to the north, the south, the west, the east.
Tasting the thoughts when they reached the surf, Alantea spun them back into words.
Distraction. Diversion. Attack in one place in order to destroy the true prey that lived in another place.
I can create distraction. Alantea sent that thought back to kiss Thaisia’s shore.
We can be a diversion, offered other Elementals.
They waited for Namid’s teeth and claws to reply.
For two days the Elementals, from the smallest to the most powerful, waited for an answer.
Then, for just a moment, an odd and terrible silence formed a skin over the whole world. Then it was gone, leaving behind the answer.
Distraction.
Diversion.
Destruction of the true prey.
Thin the herds.
• • •
A wind began to blow from the northernmost part of Thaisia.
A wind began to blow from the south, teasing the water Elementals who lived around the gulf until they slapped at the wind, creating surges that slipped over the retainer walls that humans had built to protect their cities.
One of the Elementals known as Earth pretended to pick a quarrel with Pacifikus, the Elemental who ruled the Pacifik Ocean. Earth stamped her foot, then leaped onto Tsunami’s back and raced for the West Coast of Thaisia. Pacifikus laughed, mounted Typhoon, and gave chase, still undecided if he would steer the coming storm away from most of the coastline or run with Earth and feed the storm until it reached its full potential.
And off the coast of the eastern Storm Islands, Alantea mounted Hurricane and began to limber up her steed.
CHAPTER 44
Watersday, Juin 30
Hope frowned at her half-finished drawing. The Wolfgard cabin looked fine. So did the trees and grass. But the real sky was a clear, deep blue, and the sky she’d drawn was dark, ominous. The storm clouds had shadows in them that almost formed shapes—creatures with teeth and claws.
She tore the drawing out of her sketch pad and turned the paper over to the clean side. She wasn’t going to finish that drawing, but Jackson had told her that paper might be harder to come by, so she wasn’t going to waste what she had.
She slapped a hand in front of the nose of the juvenile Wolf who was sneaking up on her colored pencils. “Those aren’t twigs to chew on.”
The culprit made a sound like a guilty grumble. Another juvenile made a sound that could only be laughter. The next thing she knew, all the young Wolves had abandoned her and were engaged in a mock battle—lots of snarls and body bumps as they chased one another.
Tension eased from her shoulders as she picked up a black pencil. Ever since her hysterical warning had thwarted an attack on the Wolves, there were always a couple of juvenile Wolves keeping her company. More to the point, they were watching intently for any sign that she was going to do the crazy thing again. The youngsters weren’t sure what had happened or why; they just knew that the adults had responded to a threat they couldn’t see—and their Hope had given the warning howl in her own way.
So they watched her. So did the juvenile Hawks, Eagles, and Ravens. She’d even spotted one of the big golden Panthers watching her from a distance.
Maybe she should go inside and compose a letter to Meg Corbyn. Or ask Grace if she could go down to the communications cabin and send a short e-mail. She wasn’t sure what she would say, but it seemed important all of a sudden.
“Hope? What’s that?”
Hope blinked as she focused on Jackson, who was crouched beside her. Why did the sun look so bright? Had she fallen asleep? “What is what?”
He pointed to the paper. “That.”
She felt a little sick as she looked at the simple, almost childish drawing she didn’t remember creating.