“They weren’t given names. Property isn’t given names.” Simon watched anger kindle in Steve’s eyes, and used words to lay a trail for this hunt for information. “Meg has a silver razor. The blade’s width is a precise measure of how far apart the cuts have to be. Her designation was engraved on one side of the handle.”
“Seven five nine. Seven hundred fifty-nine? There have been seven hundred fifty-nine girls in that one place?” Steve raked a hand through his hair. “When humans first met the terra indigene in other parts of the world, they ignored the boundaries that had been set by Namid itself, and there were great battles. When it looked like they would become purged from the world, Namid gave some of them the gift of knowing that humans call intuition. And the world changed a few humans so that their blood became a window to the future. More than just a knowing. But such a gift always comes at a cost. The women, because the prophets were always women, went mad after a few years.
“Then it was discovered that the blood of the cassandra sangue could quiet anger, could take away pain.”
“Could make someone so passive they wouldn’t fight back even if attacked?” Simon asked.
Steve shrugged. “That wasn’t mentioned in the stories, but there are several historical references from the years when settlers first came to Thaisia of how the presence of something the terra indigene called sweet blood ended a conflict without a fight. And there were also a few mentions of terra indigene lapping up blood and then going mad. Reading between the lines, and given the fact that blood is mentioned in both cases, I’d guess that both those things had something to do with the girls who were prophets.”
So this isn’t the first time this has happened, Simon thought. Did someone find these historical references? Is that where the idea for making the drugs that are causing the sickness came from? “What does this have to do with the Intuits?”
“The cassandra sangue came from us. The special girls. The prophets. But when you’re trying to hide in a human village, when you’re trying to avoid being branded as having some kind of sorcery or channeling power that belongs to the gods, having a girl in the family who has visions of the future and warns of disasters whenever she gets a cut can be an excuse to hang an entire family. And it was done, Mr. Wolfgard. It was done.”
He nodded to indicate he was listening.
“A few generations ago, men started showing up when stories began spreading about a girl. They talked about a special home, a secret place where the girls would be safe, would be cared for without putting their families at risk. Safety for everyone. Family stories always emphasized that parents gave up their daughters to keep the girls safe, to keep the rest of their children safe.”
“Maybe it was safer in the beginning,” Simon said.
“Maybe. But hunters learn how to find their preferred prey, and soon the special girls, the cassandra sangue, had disappeared from Intuit family lines.”
“They didn’t disappear from all the family lines,” Simon said, thinking of Meg’s friend Jean, who had been born outside the compound.
“The potential didn’t completely disappear, at any rate. But …”—Steve’s hand closed into a fist—“those men. They breed the girls now, don’t they? Like livestock. Select the specific traits they want in the offspring.”
“I think so. Meg doesn’t talk about it much, so I don’t know for sure. But I think so.”
Neither spoke for a few minutes. Simon felt disappointed. He hadn’t learned anything that would help Meg.
“I don’t want to stir things up in the village by asking too many questions,” Steve said. “Is there something specific you want to know about the blood prophets?”
Simon thought for a moment. “Pins and needles. The prickling Meg feels so much of the time. Is that how it always is for a cassandra sangue who isn’t confined? Is that feeling why they start cutting in the first place?”
“I don’t know. I’ll talk to Penny, quietly. I think it will help her and her sister to know the river might have been the kinder choice. And I’ll contact other Intuit villages and see what I can find out.”
“Be careful. The man who held Meg is still trying to get her back. He sent men after her. They killed some of the terra indigene in the Courtyard before we destroyed them. And they almost killed Meg.”
“That’s what provoked the storm that shut down Lakeside?”
Simon nodded.
Putting his hands flat on the table, Steve rose. “All right. I’ll find out what I can about blood prophets, and we’ll do what we can for your policeman’s friend. Like I said before, we can’t pay him much, but I can promise food, clothes, and a roof over his head.”
“I think for now that will be enough.” Simon rose.
Steve studied him for a moment, then gave him an odd smile. “You called her a friend.”
“What?”
“Your Meg. You said she was a friend. A Wolf has really made friends with a human?”
He growled. He couldn’t help it. “Lakeside has a human pack now because of her. A whole pack of troublesome, not-edible females.” All right, the pack was made up of three females plus Meg, but when they ganged up on him, they felt like a lot more.
Steve pressed his lips together and kept blinking like there was something in his eyes.
“What?”
Steve rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Intuits, Simple Life folks, and the terra indigene have different tasks, but taken together, those tasks and abilities benefit all of us. And I think we’ve worked well together for a lot of years. But I don’t think Ming or Flash or any other terra indigene living here has ever thought of any Intuit as a friend. I have a feeling your Meg has changed things between your kind and mine more than anyone yet realizes.”
Simon cocked his head and studied the man. “You have a feeling?”
“Yes. A feeling.”
Not a word an Intuit used lightly.
“I’ll send word when Roger Czerneda is ready to come to the island.”
Steve reached back and rubbed a hand between his shoulders. “Maybe that’s part of it. The prickling you said your Meg feels. Intuits do better with a limited number of people. You get used to how people fit into the whole, so you know when something has changed. That’s one reason we don’t welcome people who find our village while they’re visiting Talulah Falls.”
Simon waited.
“Every choice changes the future.”
“So every time I choose whether or not to have a muffin at breakfast I’m an itch under Meg’s skin?”
“No. If that were true, all those girls would be completely insane no matter how few people they came into contact with. But since her kind came from us, once a prophet gets used to her surroundings and the people she usually sees, the day-to-day choices shouldn’t affect her anymore.”
Steve looked excited. But he hadn’t met Meg. Simon didn’t share that excitement.
“She’s been with us two months now. If she stills gets that prickling feeling several times a day …?”
The excitement faded from Steve’s face, and he looked grim. “If that’s the case, I have a feeling that your prophet is sensing a whole lot of bad headed your way.”
Yeah. That was what worried him. “I’ll be in touch.”
Steve hesitated. “Would you have any objection to my visiting the Lakeside Courtyard?”
He thought about that for a moment and why Ferryman would be asking now. “You want to get a look at Meg?”
“Yes, I’d like to meet her. But more than that, I’d like her to get a look at me.”
He thought about that too—and decided tearing out Steve’s throat was an honest response but not an appropriate one. And since he had enough to think about, he wasn’t going to ponder why that was his response.
He walked out of the room and kept going. He found Henry, Burke, and Montgomery at the ferry, loading jars of jam and honey to take back to the Courtyard.
Steve didn’t join them. Simon thought that was for the best.
On the drive back to Lakeside, he expected Burke at least to ask questions about what his friend’s pup could anticipate from living on the island. But the two humans were quiet, and he suspected Henry’s thoughts were more focused on the honey and jam they were bringing back.
That was fine. He didn’t need anyone yipping at him. But his talk with Steve had decided one thing: the next time Meg needed to cut, he was going to be there to confirm or deny his suspicions about the humans Namid made to be both wondrous and terrible.