“Map of Thaisia,” she said. Her hand moved up and down. “Midwest.”
“What do you see?” he whispered, not sure she could hear him now.
“Twisting wind. Fire. Broken buildings. Ash.” Her hand moved up and down again. “Bones.”
Monty shivered. “Do you see any people? Where are the people?”
“Ash and bones.”
Meg took a deep breath, then let it out in an orgasmic sigh. She blinked and looked at him. “Did you get your answer?”
She really doesn’t know, he thought. Doesn’t know what she said, doesn’t know how wanton she looks. When she speaks prophecy, she becomes a vessel and forfeits the person, the personality. Not that big a leap to think of her as property, as something that can justifiably be used.
“Lieutenant?”
And then she was Meg Corbyn again, with that childlike sweetness that was inherent to her.
“Yes. Yes, I did. Thank you.” Disturbed by his thoughts, Monty focused on Meg’s hand, resting on the pad of paper towels that was stained red. “Do you want some help bandaging the cut?”
He heard a door open. Tess walked into the sorting room, coming in from the back.
“I’ll take care of it, Lieutenant,” Tess said.
Her hair was green and loosely coiled. Since she sounded brusque rather than angry, he made a mental note of the color and degree of curl. It had been brown and straight the first time he’d met her. From what he’d gleaned from Kowalski’s and Debany’s observations, brown and straight meant relaxed or at least not anxious about anything. Green was the first sign of annoyance. Red indicated anger. And no one, no one, talked about her hair turning pure black.
Having looked at the crime scene photos of the four Lakeside University students who died after the attack on Merri Lee, Monty thought he had a good idea of what happened when Tess’s hair turned black.
He nodded to Tess, then turned to Meg. “I appreciate your help, Ms. Corbyn.”
She gave him a wan smile.
“Officer Kowalski is in HGR, talking with Alan Wolfgard,” Tess said. “They were discussing a story about a girl who gets swallowed by a wolf and then rescued by a hunter. Apparently, whether you see it as a story of love and courage overcoming danger or a horror story about devious humans depends on whether or not you have fur.”
“Ah.” Monty took his leave and hurried over to Howling Good Reads. He trusted Karl to be cautious when engaging in this kind of discussion, but he thought it prudent to avoid reminders of devious humans for the foreseeable future.
Retrieving his partner, they drove back to the Chestnut Street station, where he told his captain about the prophecy.
“Pete? It’s Douglas Burke.”
Silence. Then a too-hearty “Doug! It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has. Haven’t seen you since we took that long ride into the wild country.”
“You looking for a lawyer? My clients are usually located in town, but …”
“I don’t need a lawyer. Not exactly.”
Another silence. “I guess you’re calling in the IOU.” A sigh. “Burke’s Justice doesn’t come without cost, but it can save a man’s life. What do you need?”
“Information about a man called the Controller. He runs a compound where cassandra sangue are held. I know he’s in the Midwest.”
“The Midwest is a big region.”
“That’s why I need help from people who live in that part of Thaisia.”
“ ‘Where cassandra sangue are held’? You make it sound like a prison.”
“Prisons have rules about how inmates can be treated. No one is monitoring what happens to those girls.”
Uneasy silence. “Look, Doug. I’ve never gone to one of those places. Gods, I have a wife and two kids, not to mention a car payment, and we’re hoping to buy a house. I couldn’t afford it. But this might not be a good time to be spending your money on a prophecy.”
“Why is that?”
“Client of mine. He’s not guilty of all the charges against him, but he’s not innocent either. I haven’t been able or willing to guarantee he won’t go to prison for a while, so he went to visit a man called Mr. Smith who has ways of predicting such things. But when I met him after that very expensive meeting, all my client did was complain that he’d been cheated, that the girl hadn’t told him anything about himself or his spot of trouble, had just screamed about wind and fire. Mr. Smith tried to pass it off as metaphor for a heated debate in court, but when my client threatened to raise a fuss, Mr. Smith returned half the fee. Lately there have been whispers that the places claiming to have girls who can see the future are just scams.”
“Has it occurred to anyone that the girls are seeing the future? That the wind and fire are an accurate prophecy?”
“Oh, now, that’s … Doug? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if the man known as the Controller isn’t found very soon, those prophecies will be accurate. The Midwest will burn, Pete, and the Others aren’t interested in leaving survivors.”
Gasps. “Why?”
“You’ve heard about the troubles? About the drugs called gone over wolf and feel-good? About that town that went crazy because of the tainted ground beef?”
“Sure, I … The police suspect him? Is there any proof?”
“Human law does not apply in this case. The terra indigene consider him an enemy, and they are going to hunt him down. How much of the Midwest survives that hunt will depend on how quickly they find him. Help me find him, Pete.”
“I … How much time do we have?”
“When was your client going to trial?”
“Two weeks.”
“Then we have less than that.”
Another silence. “Is it just me, or are you calling in other IOUs for this?”
“I’m calling in all of them.”
CHAPTER 26
On Sunsday morning, the guests of the Lakeside Courtyard gathered behind the Liaison’s Office, waiting for the bus that would take them to the train station for the journey home.
Moments after Blair drove up and opened the bus door, Meg stepped out of the office.
Something’s wrong, Simon thought as he hurried toward her. Not a big wrong; she hadn’t sounded an alarm. But something was bothering Meg.
Henry and Charlie noticed moments after he did, and moments after that, all the terra indigene leaders were watching her.
Meg trembled, but she faced the Others and said in a quiet voice, “We were taught a lot of things in the compound in order to provide accurate prophecies that could be understood by the Controller’s clients. But we weren’t taught about ourselves, and I think most of what we were taught was a lie. But the Walking Names weren’t always careful about what they said around us. That’s how I know that buying a cut of my skin is very expensive.”
Simon looked at the bandage on the side of her left hand. The Others hadn’t asked for the cut; the police had. But whatever she’d told Lieutenant Montgomery was the reason the police were working hard to locate the Controller.
<We’re going to miss the train,> Blair warned.
Simon ignored him.
Joe Wolfgard looked at the other leaders before turning back to Meg. “We have some human money. We can harvest other things that humans covet to get more.”
Meg shook her head. “I don’t want money or things.” She paused. “We’re told we can’t have a life like other humans. We’re told we can’t survive outside the compound. If it wasn’t for my friend Jean, I would have believed the Walking Names. But Jean wasn’t born in one of the compounds. She came from outside. She had a mother and a father and a baby brother. Someone like Phineas Jones took her away from her family and tried to turn her into property. But she never forgot, wouldn’t let them forget that she’d had a name once, had a family just like they have families. She was my only friend. She told me about outside. And she used up some of her skin to help me escape. So this is what I want from you. You’re going to find the Controller, one way or another. That’s not prophecy, just … belief. You’re going to find him and you’re going to find that place. And when you do, I want you to save Jean, if you can. I want you to find a new place for her where she’ll be safe and can have a life.”