Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)



To: Tolya Sanguinati Grandfather Erebus has decided that you will take control of the town of Bennett. Sanguinati from the Toland Courtyard are on their way to you now, along with a few of the Wolfgard who worked with you. Some of the terra indigene from Toland will join Stavros when he takes over the rule of Talulah Falls. The rest will head to the Midwest and Northwest regions to manage a few of the reclaimed towns that have railway depots. Those places are still of value to us.

Give this warning to the humans who helped save the Wolf pups at Prairie Gold: there is no safety in the dark.


—Vlad


To: Vladimir Sanguinati Your message received and understood. I have considered what businesses are immediately necessary and will ask Jesse Walker for her recommendations. While having some Wolfgard in Bennett as one kind of enforcer would be beneficial, ask some of the Toland Wolves to come to the terra indigene settlement at Prairie Gold. The pack’s nanny is the only surviving adult Wolf there, and someone needs to teach the juveniles how to hunt. Much bison meat has already been cached, so the youngsters can be fed for some time, but the Intuits, no matter how well intentioned, cannot teach young Wolves all they need to know.

Also, all the humans who ran the ranches between Prairie Gold and Bennett were killed. Most of the fences that divided the land were torn up and are now fearsome balls of barbed wire and posts. Tobias Walker tells me the beef cattle can manage on their own for the summer, but there are other animals that require tending, including the ones in town that humans kept as pets and the working animals on the ranches. We are doing what we can, but there are not enough of us to care for that many animals as well as handle so many other tasks. Would the Elders allow some humans—Intuits or Simple Life folk, preferably—to come to Bennett under the Sanguinati’s supervision to deal with such things?


—Tolya





CHAPTER 42


Thaisday, Juin 28


Meg tried not to hover while Henry measured the drawer where she wanted to keep the prophecy card box.

“You’ll want handles to lift the box out of the drawer without catching your fingers,” Henry said.

“Okay.” She hadn’t considered the mechanics of lifting the box. “I would like a lock. With a key. Two keys.”

The Grizzly gave her a long look. “We can get a lock and keys.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fancy box.”

Another long look. “You’ll take what I make.”

“I just meant . . .” Something, not a prickle or a buzz, whispered across her skin. This wasn’t a prophecy or vision. This was a flash of understanding. Despite—or perhaps because of—the turmoil going on throughout Thaisia, Henry wasn’t working on his sculptures, but he needed something to occupy his time when he had to stay in human form to help Simon. “Thank you. Umm . . . Ruth and Merri Lee said there should be a fabric lining. They’re going to look at information on tarot and fortune-telling cards to see if the box is supposed to have a certain kind of fabric, and then they’ll check with the seamstress and tailor to find out what might be available.”

“Tell them to talk to me about the size I’ll need.” Henry thought for a moment. “No, I’ll talk to Ruth. The Business Association has other things to discuss with her.”

“She’s not in trouble, is she?” Meg couldn’t think of anything Ruth—or Merri Lee or Theral, for that matter—could have done that might upset the Business Association.

“No one in the female pack is in trouble. At least, not with us.” Henry closed the drawer and came over to stand beside her. “No more packages arrived that we should know about? You would tell us if there were?”

She blinked at his fierce tone. “Why wouldn’t I tell you? We aren’t receiving many packages for individuals. I don’t think anyone in the Courtyard is ordering anything from catalogs right now, so that’s not unusual.”

“Nothing from that Jack Fillmore who is hunting Theral?”

Oh. That kind of package. “No. Nothing since those chocolates. Maybe he’s left Lakeside.”

“He has the scent of his prey, Meg.” Henry’s voice was a soft rumble. “He’ll keep hunting until he catches her—or we catch him.”

“Then I’ll keep watching.”

“Arroo!”

Meg looked through the doorway into the front room. “So will Nathan.”

Henry folded the paper with the measurements for the box and tucked it into his pocket.

“Henry?” Meg considered the wisdom of asking the question. “Never mind.”

Henry left the Liaison’s Office. Meg listened but didn’t hear the gate to his yard open. Must be going directly to his meeting with Ruth.

She took the supply notebook from the drawer that now held several notebooks covering a number of subjects—including The Blood Prophets Guide. No, there weren’t many packages coming in for individuals, but they had been receiving some of the supplies she had ordered in quantity. She’d have to talk to Simon and the rest of the Business Association about how those supplies would be distributed among the Courtyard’s residents, but that would have to wait.

She’d done as Vlad asked. She hadn’t turned on the TV news or the radio or tried to peek at the newspaper. It hadn’t been said, but it was understood between them that when the repercussions caused by the death of the Wolfgard in the Midwest and Northwest were concluded, Vlad would bring her the office copy of the Lakeside News.

She wondered if she would ever read a newspaper again—and as she wondered, she opened the drawer that held the prophecy cards and brushed her hand over the backs of the cards.

Don’t know enough about working with them, she argued with herself. No one knows if choosing some cards is really the same as prophecy. Blood prophets might be no better at seeing the future than Intuits are when they use these things.

But she felt a pins-and-needles prickle in the hand brushing the cards—a feeling that quickly turned into a buzz.

All right, then. Ask a question. “What are the repercussions from the humans killing the terra indigene?”

She kept brushing her fingers over the cards, picking up a card when touching it turned a prickle into a painful buzz. Keeping her eyes closed, she set the prophecy cards facedown on the counter. One card. Two. Three.

Meg opened her eyes, turned the cards over, and stared at the answer to her question.

The first card was one she thought of as an Elemental card: tornado, hurricane, avalanche, earthquake. The second card was one of the creatures Jester insisted wasn’t make-believe. The third card was the hooded figure holding a scythe.

Meg returned the cards to the drawer, then brushed her hand over all the cards again. “What will happen to Lakeside?”

No prickles of any kind. That couldn’t be right. Something was bound to happen in Lakeside.

She closed her eyes and brushed her hand over the cards again, repeating the question over and over.

Nothing. Then the faintest prickle.

She moved the cards around, using both hands now to locate the source of that prickle.

Found it!

She opened her eyes, looked at the card, and frowned. The only thing on the card was a large question mark. How was that an answer?

Future undecided.

She returned the card and closed the drawer.

She wasn’t going to discuss this with Simon or Vlad or any of her human friends. After all, turning over a few cards wasn’t prophecy.

But what if she cut herself and saw the same image? She would waste skin on a question that had been answered, which would upset Simon and the rest of her friends. And since anyone she asked to listen to the prophecy would argue about the need to make this cut, she would have to swallow the words and endure the agony of not speaking so that the cut wouldn’t be completely wasted.

Future undecided.