Marked in Flesh
Page 66
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“You’re supposed to run after it and bring it back. That’s the throw game,” Simon said.
Jackson threw another ball in the same direction, and this time the Wolves raced after it. After finding both balls, they trotted back to Jackson, who threw the balls again.
Simon watched his friend and felt excitement bubble inside him. Jackson throwing a ball was part of the prophecy Meg saw for this community. “Roy Panthergard is going to resettle here. A female might be coming with him.”
Jackson aborted the next throw and looked at Simon in surprise. “A mate? The Panthergard aren’t as solitary as regular panthers, but would two of them—could two of them—live so close together?”
“Don’t know. Don’t know if the female is planning to stay or just wants to look at this part of Thaisia before deciding. Either way, Roy is going to settle here.” Simon hesitated. “What about you?”
“Me?” Jackson’s next throw was so short the Wolves barely had to move to catch it. “You thought I would be staying? Why?”
“Because Meg saw you here.” Simon shrugged. It was still too easy to believe that everything a blood prophet saw would happen in the future, especially when Meg had been right so often. But you couldn’t make assumptions about the visions.
When Jackson looked uneasy, Simon continued. “This is what Meg described—you throwing a ball for juvenile Wolves. I thought it meant you would live here.”
The Wolves dropped the balls at Jackson’s feet, then trotted off to explore the land around the houses, having had enough of the game.
“I like living at Sweetwater,” Jackson said. “And Grace is from the High North and would miss the snow.”
“We have snow.”
Jackson laughed. “You don’t have what Grace calls snow.”
He hoped no one relayed that comment to the Elementals in Lakeside. He didn’t want Winter to feel the need to prove she could provide as much snow as some of the Elementals in the Northwest or High North.
“Besides,” Jackson continued, “the Hope pup is settling in, learning the land and how to take care of herself. And it’s different now, isn’t it? The Intuits are more interested in talking to us, exchanging information about the prophet pups, asking what would be helpful for the ones they’re looking after. It’s not just a weekly visit to the trading post anymore.”
“And you’re the leader they talk to.” Simon nodded. “Like Joe is talking to the Intuits in Prairie Gold.”
“You and your Meg showed Others and Intuits that it’s possible to really work together.”
“Not all humans feel that way,” Simon warned.
“Not all the terra indigene feel that way either.” Jackson picked up one of the tennis balls and frowned. “Don’t think you want to put this in with the clean ones.”
“We’ll take those two with us and put the carry sack with the clean balls in the garage attached to the Sanguinati’s house.” When they were ready to leave, Simon called the juvenile Wolves. <Time to go back to Lakeside.>
<We’re not done sniffing!> <We could stay here and help guard the bison.>
Help chase the bison was more like it. Trouble was, the bison knew about wolves; these young Wolves knew just enough about bison to get themselves into serious trouble. And two packs of juveniles with no adults of any kind around? Not going to happen.
<Get in the van,> he growled.
They returned, looking sufficiently chastened. Simon suspected that had less to do with actual obedience and more to do with not being banned from the next outing.
<You’re disappointed that I’m not going to stay,> Jackson said when Simon drove away from the community.
<Yes. But I wouldn’t want to relocate and leave Meg, so I understand why you don’t want to leave the Hope pup on her own.>
<I had an aptitude for holding the human form and for understanding many of the things they use, but I didn’t want to run a Courtyard or even live in one. Not like you did. Now I deal with more humans and human things in a week than I used to face in a whole season.>
<Humans do have a way of sticking to you. Like burrs.>
Jackson laughed quietly. <But a few humans are worth the prickles.>
Simon thought of the way Sam looked when he was with Meg, how much the pup had grown since that first night he’d caught her scent and curiosity had quieted fear. And he thought of how he felt about having Meg as a friend. <Yes, some of them are worth the prickles.>
• • •
Meg crumpled that day’s issue of the Lakeside News and threw it into a corner of the sorting room. Then she retrieved it and smoothed it out before placing it in the wire bin she used for the recycled newspapers.
How had Merri Lee put it? Same news, different day: Governor Patrick Hannigan still urging city governments to show common sense instead of giving in to the sensationalism being thrown about by the Humans First and Last movement, and Agent Greg O’Sullivan saying the Investigative Task Force was still investigating the cause of the dead fish that continued to wash up around Toland.
Those articles made her hands tingle while she read them, but the article that quoted Nicholas Scratch . . .
Humans were powerful. Humans were right. Humans deserved all the riches the world could offer. People shouldn’t have to be grateful for handouts that were doled out according to the whims of animals.
Her skin burned so much as she read the article she couldn’t touch the newspaper anymore.
Jackson threw another ball in the same direction, and this time the Wolves raced after it. After finding both balls, they trotted back to Jackson, who threw the balls again.
Simon watched his friend and felt excitement bubble inside him. Jackson throwing a ball was part of the prophecy Meg saw for this community. “Roy Panthergard is going to resettle here. A female might be coming with him.”
Jackson aborted the next throw and looked at Simon in surprise. “A mate? The Panthergard aren’t as solitary as regular panthers, but would two of them—could two of them—live so close together?”
“Don’t know. Don’t know if the female is planning to stay or just wants to look at this part of Thaisia before deciding. Either way, Roy is going to settle here.” Simon hesitated. “What about you?”
“Me?” Jackson’s next throw was so short the Wolves barely had to move to catch it. “You thought I would be staying? Why?”
“Because Meg saw you here.” Simon shrugged. It was still too easy to believe that everything a blood prophet saw would happen in the future, especially when Meg had been right so often. But you couldn’t make assumptions about the visions.
When Jackson looked uneasy, Simon continued. “This is what Meg described—you throwing a ball for juvenile Wolves. I thought it meant you would live here.”
The Wolves dropped the balls at Jackson’s feet, then trotted off to explore the land around the houses, having had enough of the game.
“I like living at Sweetwater,” Jackson said. “And Grace is from the High North and would miss the snow.”
“We have snow.”
Jackson laughed. “You don’t have what Grace calls snow.”
He hoped no one relayed that comment to the Elementals in Lakeside. He didn’t want Winter to feel the need to prove she could provide as much snow as some of the Elementals in the Northwest or High North.
“Besides,” Jackson continued, “the Hope pup is settling in, learning the land and how to take care of herself. And it’s different now, isn’t it? The Intuits are more interested in talking to us, exchanging information about the prophet pups, asking what would be helpful for the ones they’re looking after. It’s not just a weekly visit to the trading post anymore.”
“And you’re the leader they talk to.” Simon nodded. “Like Joe is talking to the Intuits in Prairie Gold.”
“You and your Meg showed Others and Intuits that it’s possible to really work together.”
“Not all humans feel that way,” Simon warned.
“Not all the terra indigene feel that way either.” Jackson picked up one of the tennis balls and frowned. “Don’t think you want to put this in with the clean ones.”
“We’ll take those two with us and put the carry sack with the clean balls in the garage attached to the Sanguinati’s house.” When they were ready to leave, Simon called the juvenile Wolves. <Time to go back to Lakeside.>
<We’re not done sniffing!> <We could stay here and help guard the bison.>
Help chase the bison was more like it. Trouble was, the bison knew about wolves; these young Wolves knew just enough about bison to get themselves into serious trouble. And two packs of juveniles with no adults of any kind around? Not going to happen.
<Get in the van,> he growled.
They returned, looking sufficiently chastened. Simon suspected that had less to do with actual obedience and more to do with not being banned from the next outing.
<You’re disappointed that I’m not going to stay,> Jackson said when Simon drove away from the community.
<Yes. But I wouldn’t want to relocate and leave Meg, so I understand why you don’t want to leave the Hope pup on her own.>
<I had an aptitude for holding the human form and for understanding many of the things they use, but I didn’t want to run a Courtyard or even live in one. Not like you did. Now I deal with more humans and human things in a week than I used to face in a whole season.>
<Humans do have a way of sticking to you. Like burrs.>
Jackson laughed quietly. <But a few humans are worth the prickles.>
Simon thought of the way Sam looked when he was with Meg, how much the pup had grown since that first night he’d caught her scent and curiosity had quieted fear. And he thought of how he felt about having Meg as a friend. <Yes, some of them are worth the prickles.>
• • •
Meg crumpled that day’s issue of the Lakeside News and threw it into a corner of the sorting room. Then she retrieved it and smoothed it out before placing it in the wire bin she used for the recycled newspapers.
How had Merri Lee put it? Same news, different day: Governor Patrick Hannigan still urging city governments to show common sense instead of giving in to the sensationalism being thrown about by the Humans First and Last movement, and Agent Greg O’Sullivan saying the Investigative Task Force was still investigating the cause of the dead fish that continued to wash up around Toland.
Those articles made her hands tingle while she read them, but the article that quoted Nicholas Scratch . . .
Humans were powerful. Humans were right. Humans deserved all the riches the world could offer. People shouldn’t have to be grateful for handouts that were doled out according to the whims of animals.
Her skin burned so much as she read the article she couldn’t touch the newspaper anymore.
