To Monty, that sounded like high praise coming from a terra indigene Bear.
“In Brittania, where my ancestors hail from, I believe your ability would be called second sight,” Burke said to Steve. “A knowing that can’t be explained. Would that be accurate?”
“Close enough,” Steve said.
“Prophecy?” Monty asked.
“No.”
The forceful denial startled Monty. But it seemed to confirm something for Simon Wolfgard, who tensed.
“Intuits don’t have visions; we don’t see images of the future,” Steve said, sounding a bit too insistent. “We just get a feeling for good or ill when something is happening around us.”
“And now?” Simon asked. “What are you feeling now?”
Wolf and Intuit stared at each other.
Then Steve looked at Burke and Monty. After a moment, he said, “I have a feeling that there’s a storm coming, and maybe it would be good to have an official police officer living among us, even if he isn’t one of us.” A hesitation. “Intuits make use of technology, but we’ve also made choices that keep us in harmony with the terra indigene. Those aren’t choices most humans want to make. Would this policeman be easy with that? With us?”
“I think Roger would be able to adjust,” Burke said carefully.
Steve sat back. “Does this Roger know how to ride a horse?”
“I don’t know. Will he need to?”
“It would be handy. What about sports?”
“He played hockey when he was in school.”
“Baseball? Volleyball? Anything like that?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s supposed to be a police officer, not fill vacancies in your sports teams,” Henry said.
“No reason he can’t do both,” Steve replied. He exchanged a look with Ming and Flash, then nodded. “All right. We won’t be able to pay him much, but we’ll give Roger a chance to make a place for himself here.”
“Thank you,” Burke said. “If there is anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Some suggestions for how to purchase an official police car would be helpful. We don’t have one.” Smiling, Steve pushed back from the table.
Simon gave the table three sharp taps.
Steve settled back in his chair, his smile fading. “Why don’t you take a look around the village? Mr. Wolfgard and I will catch up to you.”
Monty and Burke followed Henry and Ming out of the room, with Flash bringing up the rear. He looked back as Flash closed the door—and he wondered why seeing Steve and Simon lean toward each other made him uneasy.
“When you sent word the other day, saying you were coming to the island, I wondered if you wanted to get away from the Courtyard for a couple of days,” Steve said. “Coming here would be a good choice. It’s close but not your responsibility. And you’re not opposed to our way of life, which is more than can be said for the Talulah Falls Courtyard.”
“That’s not why I called,” Simon replied. He’d spent the drive up to the island thinking about what he wanted to know and how to ask the questions. Intuits had survived by being very careful. They lived up to the bargains they made with the terra indigene, which was why the Others helped them attend colleges in human cities or learn useful trades so that they knew the workings of human businesses. With that knowledge, they were consultants for the terra indigene when it came to making bargains with other humans, and their loyalty was well rewarded with land and protection.
“No, that’s not why you called,” Steve agreed. “You showed up with Lakeside police and this request to bring in an outsider. But that’s not why you’re here.”
<Simon,> Henry said. <Everyone is away from the room. Ming, Flash, and I will show Burke and Montgomery around the village.>
<I’ll catch up with you when I’m done,> Simon said. He didn’t know how long it would take to ask the right question to find out what he needed, so he didn’t waste time. “You told Lieutenant Montgomery that you don’t see prophecy. But I think the Intuits know about the cassandra sangue.”
Steve pushed back from the table, looking a little frightened. “Don’t go there.”
Interesting. And not what he expected. But the response told him how he needed to proceed with this hunt. “I have to go there. Meg is my friend.”
“Who is Meg?”
“Our Human Liaison. She’s a blood prophet. Being out in the world is causing some … reactions.”
“Then take her back to her caregivers.”
Ignoring the plea in Steve’s voice—and the strange, desperate hope—Simon snarled and let his canines lengthen enough that they couldn’t be mistaken for human. “Keepers and cages. She said she’d rather die than go back to that place, and she meant it.” He waited a moment. “What do you know?”
Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “It was a dark time in our history, and Intuits still carry the shame of it.” He sighed. “All I can offer is old stories that were passed down. But I want your word that you won’t say anything about this to Jerry Sledgeman or any of his family.”
“Why?”
“Because his niece started cutting herself when she reached puberty. By the time the family realized the cuts were deliberate and she was hiding a lot more than they’d seen, she started going mad—and they started to suspect she might be a cassandra sangue. But it’s been six, maybe even seven, generations since a blood prophet was born to any of the families on the island. No one knew how to help her. There was talk of finding one of those places that take care of such girls, but Penny, Jerry’s wife, was against it. Because of what had happened before. She’s the island’s historian and has studied Intuit history in Thaisia, so her opinion carried weight.”
“Where is the girl?” Simon asked. Meg was learning how to live outside the compound where she’d been held. He thought she did pretty well most days, but she was plagued by the pins-and-needles feeling, as if prophecies were like horseflies always swarming and biting. Still, she could explain some things to a girl who had no understanding of how the visions worked.
“Dead,” Steve replied sadly. “She jumped in the river last summer and was swept over the falls before anyone could try to save her.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t feel any sorrow or regret for a stranger, but he did understand how the loss of kin hurt. So he knew offering condolences was the proper thing to do.
“Penny’s sister hasn’t spoken to her since that day.”
Words, words, words. And nothing said yet that would help him.
“Meg said the girls were kept in cages. Cells with locked doors. They were tied down and cut when someone paid for a prophecy. Her designation was cs759.”
Steve stared at him. “Designation?”