Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)

? ? ?

“We filled out the paperwork, the containers are clearly labeled, and we paid the haulage for two hundred pounds that requires refrigeration,” Tobias said hotly.

“Like we said.” One of the handlers gave Tobias and Joe an oily smile. “Refrigeration car is full up this trip.”

Stay in control, Joe thought. Don’t shift. And don’t bite the baggage handlers. It won’t help.

Tobias pointed at the railroad car that was puffing clouds of cold air out the open door. “There’s plenty of room in there for our five boxes.”

The handler closed the door. “We’re full up.”

<Wolf? I am Air. Do you need help?>

The female voice—and the offer—surprised him. He’d never dealt with any of the Elementals directly until the night they’d all gathered to attack the Controller’s compound. How many of them lived in Thaisia, let alone the rest of the world? Were there a thousand of them called Air? Ten thousand? More? Being a form of terra indigene, there were males as well as females. Was there someplace in the wild country where they gathered to mate and raise their young? Was there some lush valley where their steeds bore foals that played and grew until their natures were revealed? Was a wisp of a tornado a colt just learning what it was, while a lethal funnel was a stallion in its prime?

The Elementals called themselves by what they commanded and offered no other name—at least, not to anyone beyond their own kind. So while this female called herself Air, he didn’t think she had been at the Controller’s compound, and he was fairly certain she wasn’t the Elemental who lived in Lakeside.

Joe considered her question. <We want to send some meat to Simon Wolfgard and Meg Corbyn at the Lakeside Courtyard, but the humans are saying the car with cold air doesn’t have room for the boxes of meat.>

<We have heard of the Meg who lives near Etu. She likes this meat?>

<She has never tasted bison, so it will be a treat—if it doesn’t spoil before it reaches Lakeside.>

A wind lightly whipped around the platform. The door of the next car opened. <Put the meat for the Meg in this box,> Air said.

<That baggage car isn’t cold.>

<It will be.>

“We’ll put our shipment in this baggage car,” Joe told Tobias. “Come on, let’s get these boxes inside.”

“But that’s not—”

“Do it,” Joe growled.

They hauled the five boxes of meat into the empty baggage car, setting them to one side of the door.

The baggage handlers smirked—until the female who looked like she was wearing a long dress made out of clouds walked across the platform with a barrel-bodied, chubby-legged white pony.

“Gods,” Tobias whispered.

“Ssh,” Joe warned. <Thank you for your help.>

She smiled at him. Then she looked at the baggage handlers, and her smile changed to something sharp and feral. She and the pony entered the baggage car. She closed the door.

“What the fuck was that?” one of the baggage handlers said.

Joe didn’t answer. His sharp Wolf hearing picked up sounds in the baggage car that the humans didn’t hear or were choosing to ignore—sounds of a storm in the making.

“All aboard!” the conductor called.

“Wait!” A man ran onto the platform with a cart full of boxes. “These need to be loaded.”

“If you put them in that baggage car, they’ll get wet,” Joe said, making a token effort to be helpful.

“You and the Wolf lover can go fuck yourselves,” a handler snapped.

“Why?” Joe asked, not seeing the connection between baggage and mating.

No one answered the question, because the handler pulled the baggage car door open—and wind-driven snow slapped him in the face so hard it knocked him back a step.

“Gods,” Tobias said again.

“No, that’s Air and Blizzard,” Joe said. “They’ll keep the meat cold. Come on. It’s time to go.” He walked away but had to wait for Tobias to stop staring at the baggage car and catch up.

On the way back to Prairie Gold, he wondered if he should call Simon and tell him the Elementals were going to be interested in knowing if Meg Corbyn liked bison meat.

? ? ?

Their footsteps filled the land around Bennett with a terrible silence.

For hours they circled the town, sniffed around the railway station, listened to the chatter of the little two-legged predators. They didn’t understand much of the chatter. Unlike the sounds made by the ones who helped the shifters, this chatter was of little interest to Namid’s teeth and claws. But they still listened. And they watched. And they learned.





To: Jesse Walker A shipment of books will arrive at the Bennett station on Watersday, Juin 9. Please arrange for someone to pick up the shipment. Also, please arrange transportation and motel accommodations for two individuals who will be staying in Prairie Gold for a few days. Separate rooms are preferred.


—Vladimir Sanguinati To: Simon Wolfgard Five boxes of bison meat are on their way to you. I hope your Meg likes the meat since Air and Blizzard made a special effort to keep it cold. Also, a human female is making soap and candles out of bison fat. I will send you some.


—Joe





CHAPTER 12


Firesday, Juin 8


Simon held out a letter when Vlad walked into HGR’s office. “Read this.”

Vlad took the letter and looked at the signature. “This is from Jean.”

“Yes. She sent it to me. Read it.”

While Vlad read the letter, Simon read the e-mail from Joe. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting bison again, even if the meat wasn’t fresh off the hoof. He really hoped Meg liked it.

He stared at the computer screen. He wasn’t sure how much farming—or what kind of farming—was being considered at the River Road Community being developed by the Lakeside Courtyard and the Intuits at Ferryman’s Landing. Sure, the land around Lake Etu wasn’t like the grassland found in the Midwest, but there was grass. And he wasn’t thinking of a herd of bison. Just a few at River Road, a few in the Courtyard. Substantial meat. Even with the deer that were already in the Courtyard, there would be enough grass to feed a handful of bison. Wouldn’t there? Of course, it would be safer to ship little bison and let them grow up once they were here. So they would have to be fed for a few years before they were of sufficient size to be a meal for all the carnivores living here. But one bison would feed all of them for several days.

Something to think about.

Vlad sank into the chair on the other side of the desk. “When you were told to consider how much human the terra indigene would keep, we thought it meant the things humans make. But this prophecy sounds like something is going to happen that will cause a lot of the human cities in Thaisia to disappear.”

“I know.” Simon pushed aside the happy distraction of fresh bison. “But Lakeside and Great Island survive.”

“Prophecy is not a guarantee of the future.”

No, it wasn’t a guarantee. Choices could change the outcome of the future.

Vlad set the letter on the desk. “I’d like to show the letter to Grandfather Erebus—and to Stavros. Blair is picking him up at the station. Tolya came with him from Toland and will travel with Nyx to Prairie Gold. They’ll deliver the books to Jesse Walker and Shelley Bookman, and they’ll talk to Joe Wolfgard.”

“You didn’t have to thin our stock quite that much,” Simon grumbled.

“I’ve already sent in the reorder. We still have plenty of books available for the Addirondak Wolves to experience shopping in a bookstore. Besides, I sent Jesse Walker the rest of the kissy books we couldn’t send to anyone else.” Vlad gave him a long look. “The inventory didn’t match the books we had left. You wouldn’t know what happened to the rest, would you?”

“Oh. Well. I didn’t want to get rid of all of them in case Meg wanted to read that kind of story. Not now, but sometime.”