She felt a little sick as she looked at the simple, almost childish drawing she didn’t remember creating.
An outline of Thaisia, with inverted Vs to indicate mountain ranges. Heavier lines marked the boundaries of the regions, although there was a heavier line dividing the Midwest Region into a north and south. Over one of those lines, she’d drawn a magnifying glass that revealed the poles and wires for the telephone and telegraph lines that ran along the shoulders of the roads. But there were no lines connecting the poles on either side of the regional boundary. Instead there were human skulls piled beside the road like a cairn, and the poles had deep claw marks.
Jackson took the paper, turned it over, and studied the half-finished drawing that showed a storm.
“Could I send an e-mail to Meg Corbyn?” Hope asked.
Those amber Wolf eyes studied her now. “Is there something you need to tell her?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to send one . . .” While I could, she finished silently.
“I have to contact Simon Wolfgard. I can tell him you asked about Meg.”
She heard a growl beneath his words. “Did I cause trouble again?”
“Warning us of trouble isn’t the same as causing it.” Jackson stood. “But don’t give peanut butter and bread to the pups. That’s food for you.”
“I didn’t give it to them,” she grumbled. She just wanted to keep her fingers more than she wanted to keep the treat. Of course, watching them try to tongue the peanut butter stuck to the roofs of their mouths was pretty funny.
Jackson sighed and walked away, carrying her drawing.
She gathered up her supplies, checking the area to make sure she had all her pencils. She would sit on the porch and read for a while, or help Grace with chores. Anything that would keep her occupied so that she wouldn’t see the moment when the sky changed from a deep, clear blue to the storm clouds that were coming.
? ? ?
After putting Hope’s drawing in a cardboard mailing tube, Jackson jogged down the road to the communications cabin. A century ago the terra indigene had little knowledge or use for the wires and poles humans used for communication. They just tended their part of the land and were aware of neighboring groups of earth natives. That was good and necessary, especially for young Wolves who needed to leave their home packs in order to find mates. And some of the more adventurous Wolves had traveled a long way simply to learn about other pieces of Thaisia and the terra indigene who lived there. Somewhere along the way, some of them began to understand what the wires and poles meant to the clever monkeys, who had encroached on a little more land every year until the Elders lashed out and refused to give up any more of the wild country to the two-legged predators.
The wires and poles made it possible for humans to talk to one another over long distances. That had been fine, even beneficial for the Others as well as humans, when the talking had been about moving food from one place to another, or selling blankets where they would be needed. But the humans had used the wires and poles to plan attacks on the terra indigene, and, right now, he was the only one who knew what the Elders intended to do because of it.
“Jackson?”
He turned away from the communications cabin and waited for the Intuit men to reach him.
“Are the prophet pups all right?” he asked.
“Fine. A bit restless today, but they’re fine.” They looked at one another, then back at him. “Have you listened to the news today? No? Strange weather on the West Coast. A tsunami and a typhoon collided, breaking up both storms before they made landfall. But now, instead of being focused, those storms have spread their force in a way that they are going to hit most of the West Coast. The people who study weather can’t explain it any more than they can explain why there’s suddenly cold air coming down from the north and hot air coming up from the south. And there’s a hurricane gathering force as it moves up the East Coast. We aren’t sure if we’re going to be dealing with weather coming over the mountains from the west or coming down from the north. We just have a feeling that it’s going to get rough these next few days.”
He saw them glancing at the mailing tube, and he thought about the storm clouds Hope had drawn. More than one kind of storm was coming.
“It’s going to get rough,” he agreed.
“Thing is, the fire that turned against the men who tried to burn us out didn’t take the whole of Endurance. And we figure not everyone who lives there was in favor of the Humans First and Last movement or what they were going to do.”
“That’s probably true.”
“Several of us had a feeling that we should go down there and make sure those folks have enough provisions to last through the storm. It’s not right to stand by and let them suffer.”
If it had been you, or us, they would have done exactly that. But maybe not. All humans might be the enemy, but not all of them were bad.
“Why are you telling me?” he asked.
A hesitation. “We wanted your permission. Maybe you could let other . . . folks . . . know we’re going down to Endurance on your say-so.”
“You have a feeling that you need my say-so?”
“Oh yes, Jackson. We are certain we need it.”
No more buffers. Even the land used by humans for crops or pastures would feel the Elders’ presence now. And any human who was out there might not return home.
He looked up and spotted the Eagle overhead. <Eagle? Can you provide watch and escort for these Intuits? If the Elders ask, tell them I gave these humans permission to visit the other village.>
A moment of startled silence. <I will watch. If asked, I will repeat your words.>
“Go soon,” he told the men. “Get back to your own village before nightfall.” He hesitated, his instinctive distrust of humans warring with his choice to work with the Intuits who lived in Sweetwater. “When you get back, you should inform your Intuit contacts that lines of communication may be severed between regions. I think we’ll be able to use telephones and send telegrams within each region, but we’re going to be isolated.”
“For how long?”
Forever? “I don’t know.”
“In that case, one of us will stay behind and start sending out the alert.”
Nodding to the men, Jackson walked into the communications cabin and greeted the Crow on duty. Maybe Simon already knew, or knew even more, and was already making plans for the Lakeside Courtyard. But the Wolfgard youngsters in Prairie Gold were vulnerable. And the Intuit village there was much like the one here—a small community that might not survive long if it was cut off from everyone else.
He removed the drawing from the mailing tube and studied the storm clouds in the half-finished drawing. Then he rolled it back up and reached for the phone. He would try calling Simon first, then Jesse Walker and Tolya Sanguinati. If he understood the Hope pup’s vision drawing, it wasn’t just the Elementals who were going to rip Thaisia apart.
To: All Intuit Villages and Settlements Oncoming storms may sever lines of communication for an indeterminate time. Recommend that three or four villages with the best chance of surviving the storms become message hubs for their region. Also recommend that each village send a brief report to its designated hub daily to confirm status.
Protect your supplies and livestock as best you can. May the gods watch over all of us.
—Dispatcher at Sweetwater, Northwest Region To: Pater Hurricane coming up the East Coast. Support of HFL rapidly diminishing. Taking the last ocean greyhound leaving Toland this evening. Will be with you soon to celebrate Cel-Romano’s victory.
—NS
CHAPTER 45
Watersday, Juin 30
Simon barely had time to finish the phone call with Jackson and relay the information to Vlad before Steve Ferryman rushed in from the stock room of Howling Good Reads, dodging Vlad when the Sanguinati tried to block him.