Simon heard Emily Faire suck in a breath. So did Steve Ferryman. Merri Lee and Ruthie paled as they looked at the scars already on Meg’s back.
A thousand cuts. Someone had figured out that was all a cassandra sangue had before the cut that would kill her.
He refused to count Meg’s scars.
After Meg explained how to make the cut, and Emily located the exact spot where the skin prickled with prophecy, and Merri Lee indicated she was ready with her notebook and pen, Simon went down on one knee and looked into Meg’s eyes.
“What do you see here in the coming months? What can we build here? Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”
Meg kept her eyes on his as Emily made the cut.
So hard to be so close to Meg, to smell the fresh blood flowing from the wound and know how good it would taste, how good it would make him feel after he licked it up. But he stayed.
Connection. Communication. Friendship.
He saw the change come into her eyes before he smelled the lust of euphoria that filled her when she began to speak prophecy.
But this time, it was different. Meg looked around at the houses, at the land.
“What do you see, Meg?” Simon whispered.
She smiled. “Jackson is here. He’s throwing a ball for some of the younger Wolves. And there’s a gold cat shifting to human. Roy. I remember him. And a smaller cat. Pretty. Short tail and pointy ears. And people working in gardens and painting houses. A woman is feeding some chickens. Horses and carts. Cows and goats and sheep. Big shaggy animals.” She frowned, clearly searching her memory. “Bison.”
Bison? Simon thought. Here?
“Windmill,” Meg said. “Bus full of books. Lights in the windows. Wolves howling. Owl in the moonlight. The sound of a guitar. Laughter.” She sighed.
“That’s it,” Merri Lee said quietly.
Simon stepped away to distance himself from the bloody cloths Emily Faire was placing into a plastic container. Henry and Steve Ferryman joined him.
“Sounds like we don’t want to depend on the highest forms of technology for everything,” Steve said. “A windmill is Simple Life, but it would provide a mill for making flour and cornmeal at the very least.”
“Library bus,” Henry said. “Ming Beargard told me the other day that your village is sending a library bus to the places where the gards live on the island.”
“We’ve included those residents ever since we turned a bus into a rolling library,” Steve said. “But Ming and Flash Foxgard and a few other terra indigene were the only ones who entered the bus to make a selection. Now more terra indigene approach when the bus stops.”
“They can’t pass for human,” Simon said, understanding why they wouldn’t have approached before.
“No, they can’t pass,” Steve agreed. “For generations, the Intuits have shared the island and the work of providing food for everyone, but there was a barrier and most of the Others kept their distance. Something changed in Lakeside, and that changed things for us too.”
They all knew what had changed in Lakeside.
“If Meg can tolerate a little more new, I’ll treat you all to a meal at Bursting Burgers,” Steve said.
Simon caught her scent and turned as Meg approached. “I’ll see how she feels.”
Steve and Henry moved away to talk to the rest of their group.
“Did you get the answer?” she asked. “Is it . . . bad?”
Simon smiled. “Actually, it’s good. You saw the community we’re hoping to build here. Intuits living in some of the houses; terra indigene living in others. Farmers growing the food. Humans and Others working together.”
“That is good.” Meg’s stomach growled.
He laughed. “That sounds Wolfish.”
“I’m hungry.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Really hungry.”
The euphoria was supposed to make her mellow. She didn’t look mellow. She looked like she was considering the best place to sink her teeth into him. He didn’t like the way that made him feel because he had the uneasy thought that bunnies felt the same way just before a Wolf pounced.
“Steve Ferryman invited us all to go to Bursting Burgers in Ferryman’s Landing. Lots of food there. Beef.”
“A burger sounds good.”
“Then let’s go.”
As they walked toward the group waiting for them by the cars, Simon’s hand brushed against Meg’s. He hesitated for a step or two; then he took her hand, ready to release her if she growled an objection. But after a startled look, she smiled and curled her fingers around his.
He had opened some stores to human customers for years; he had hired humans to work in those stores and in the Market Square. But nothing had really changed between humans and Others until Meg stumbled into the Courtyard, half-frozen and on the run from the man who had owned her. Her efforts to fit in and build a life were stories that drifted on the wind—or on a Crow’s wings—into the wild country. Either way, the earth natives who touched human cities only when they came to destroy were sufficiently intrigued by what he and Meg were doing to keep their distance a while longer. Maybe they would stay intrigued long enough to give the terra indigene who had learned the human form time to prepare if the earth natives who were Namid’s teeth and claws decided extinction of humans was the best way to protect the world.
For now, he and Meg were going to have the adventure of seeing a new place and having a new experience. Together.
He wasn’t human. Would never be human. And Meg didn’t expect him to be. But feeling her hand in his, Simon thought maybe he could learn to be human enough.