I pretended that Simon was wearing swimming trunks like Michael and Karl, and even though the water was pretty clear, the shade of the nearby trees kept the obvious from being obvious.
Michael offered to teach me how to dog paddle. He got snarled at from three directions, because no one was going to teach me to paddle like a dog! The Wolves don’t mind dogs; they just don’t want to be mistaken for a dog, and I guess they don’t want me to be mistaken for one either.
I think Michael deliberately exaggerated the movements because Simon huffed, shifted back to Wolf, and began paddling around us to show me how to do it. Michael held me up while I tried kicking with my legs and paddling with my arms. Then I tried on my own with Simon and Nathan swimming on either side of me. When I got tired, we all climbed out and sat on blankets under the trees.
I must have fallen asleep for a little while, because I woke up feeling so content.
But contentment isn’t going to last, is it? Dead fish are washing up on the shores of three East Coast cities. I heard Vlad tell Tess the fish were the storm’s herald. I didn’t feel any pins and needles under my skin because of that comment. I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried.
I hope you’re doing well at the Gardners’ farm. Steve Ferryman is supposed to come by this week to show Simon—and me—plans for the new campus for the cassandra sangue. Steve says the girls are doing well, and the caretaker he hired for them is very intuitive about when to introduce something new and when to stay with the familiar.
I’m trying not to use the razor. Some days that’s easy to do. Other days it’s so hard. Maybe the younger girls will be able to escape the addiction. And if they can’t escape altogether, maybe cassandra sangue like you and me and Hope can find other ways to reveal some prophecies. I’m just not sure those other ways will veil our minds sufficiently, or if the euphoria that comes from cutting—and the likelihood of an early death because of it—is the cost of staying sane.
You always believed we could survive in the outside world. I’m doing everything I can to give at least some of us a chance of not only surviving but truly living.
Your friend,
Meg
It is not enough to say we should have food and water and timber and oil. It is time to say we will have the food and water and timber and oil to feed our children and build our cities and heat our homes and run the machines that make us greater than the creatures hiding in the so-called wild country. It is only wild because it has not felt the bite of the ax or the plow. It is only wild because we still cower from the phantasms that were the stuff of stories we heard as children. Abolish the phantasms and see the creatures for what they are—animals that have not yet been conquered. It is time to banish the stories of childhood. It is time to claim our true place in the world.
—Speech written by Nicholas Scratch, delivered at chapter meetings by HFL leaders throughout Thaisia
CHAPTER 15
Moonsday, Juin 11
A few minutes after Meg opened the Liaison’s Office for morning deliveries, Steve Ferryman and Jerry Sledgeman drove into the Courtyard and up the access way, pulling into the employee parking lot. Alerted by Nathan’s howl and the Crowgard cawing a warning, Simon left Vlad to finish restocking HGR’s shelves so that they looked full when the Addirondak Wolves arrived that afternoon.
He met the two men at the access way. “We’ll talk in the Liaison’s Office so that Meg can see the plans too.” He smiled, showing longer-than-human canines as a friendly reminder that trying to poach Meg wouldn’t be tolerated. Not that he thought either Intuit would, but it never hurt to reestablish territory.
Not that Meg was his territory, but he did have a responsibility to the whole Courtyard, and Meg was a vital connection to the nonedible human element that was now underfoot every time he turned around.
Simon led them through the back room and into the sorting room.
“Hi, Steve. Hi, Jerry,” Meg said, giving Simon a puzzled look.
“Morning, Meg,” Steve said. “Can I use the table?”
Meg moved a couple of stacks of catalogs. Steve unrolled the plans for the cassandra sangue campus on Great Island.
“We have thirty acres to work with, but we’re thinking to put most of the buildings together,” Steve said. “That will make it easier to run the water and sewer lines, as well as the electricity. And we wanted to keep plenty of grass and trees for the girls as well as the wildlife that’s already there. Eventually, we’ll build for a hundred residents. Older girls and adults will have studio apartments and some common areas for socializing. The younger girls will have rooms and common areas in their building. Pam Ireland, who’s working with the girls now and will be the administrator of the campus once it’s built, will have her own residence on the grounds. We’ll have a stable with a handful of horses—a couple of them to pull carts and the rest for riding. The Liveryman family is donating the horses and training them. They’ll also have someone looking after the horses as part of their contribution to the campus. Since the idea is for the girls to learn to do things and be independent, there will also be a small farm with a dairy cow or two, and some chickens. We thought about pigs, but figured cows, chickens, and horses will be enough for girls between the ages of eight and eleven to take in. Plus, we’ll have a kitchen garden, but that will probably happen next year. Our first priority is the living quarters.” He looked at Meg. “What do you think?”
Meg studied the plans. “You should have a place to swim.”
Steve winced. Simon didn’t think Meg noticed.
“We have a swimming pool at our community center,” Steve said, giving Simon a “help me” look. “We didn’t put a pool into the budget for building this place.”
“Not an official kind of swimming pool.” Meg looked at Simon. “Something like the one in the Crowgard part of the Courtyard.”
“She means a swimming hole,” Simon said. “I’ll show you the one we have here.” He felt reluctant to take more humans to a part of the Courtyard that was usually off-limits. In fact, they had recently put up a larger Trespassers Will Be Eaten sign to remind the human pack that they were allowed to go only up to the Green Complex but no farther, and unchaperoned humans driving down the road that led to the Pony Barn were just asking to be hit by Tornado or struck by Lightning.
“Library?” Meg asked.
“With only the five girls, we figured some bookshelves in the common room would be enough,” Steve said.
They studied the plans for a few more minutes. Not a compound, Simon thought. Not a prison with cells. A steady place where cassandra sangue could count on the routine of daily chores to balance the things that would keep changing.
He wondered if Jean had said anything to Steve about the prophecy she had seen where so few human cities remained.
When familiar trails disappeared, you had to find new ones—or make new ones—to take care of your pack.
“You need the building supplies for the young girls’ den, the Pam’s den, the stable, and the barn and other buildings for the animals and other food,” he said.
“Yes, but we can start with—,” Steve began.