Etched in Bone
Page 72
• • •
Meg locked the Liaison’s Office and strolled to the Market Square to spend her midday break with Sam. She wanted to hear about what he’d learned in school and about the new Wolf Team book. She wanted to think about something besides Sierra Montgomery and how everyone was stirred up over her departure.
The prophecy cards she’d selected that morning hadn’t told her much—bus, east, and the third card, the result, was a picture of a village. And Simon didn’t have anything to add when he came into the office minutes after she’d turned the cards. He just confirmed what she already knew. And neither of them had any thoughts about the village because the village card didn’t indicate if the place was human, Intuit, or Other.
All the prickling and buzzing and reading of prophecy cards hadn’t ended in a big dramatic moment or some significant event. Sierra had made her choice and left quietly—and yet that choice had negated the prophecies Meg had seen about Sierra and her children.
Sierra was free, and Meg could enjoy her time with Sam.
As she reached the archways that formed one side of the square, the Courtyard bus stopped. She recognized several of the Hawks and Crows who got off the bus. Some were reporting for work in the stores; others were there to do a bit of shopping in human form. The last ones off the bus were Jane Wolfgard, Sam . . . and Skippy.
Since Jane carried a mesh bag full of books, it was easy to guess she was heading for the library.
“We almost missed the bus,” Sam said, rushing up to greet her.
“It would have been a long walk from the Wolfgard Complex if you had,” Meg replied.
“It’s a long walk for human legs,” Sam agreed. He looked at her through his lashes. “But not so long for Wolf legs.”
He was fishing for something, and she had a good idea what it was. “If you came to the Market Square in Wolf form, you wouldn’t be able to shift and look human because you wouldn’t have your clothes, and you can’t shop in the stores if you’re naked.”
“You could carry the clothes for me.”
She braced her hands on her thighs so they were eye to eye. “Do I look like a packhorse?” Seeing the spark of mischief in Sam’s eyes, she added, “Before you answer, remember I’m the one who has money to buy a treat.”
“Roooooooooo.” Skippy gave Sam a pleading look followed by a hard nudge, making it clear he understood the connection between Meg, money, and treat.
Sam returned Skippy’s nudge and grinned at Meg.
“I have to pick up a couple of things at the general store,” she said, leading the way. “Then we can go to Meat-n-Greens for something to eat.”
“I like looking in the general store.” Sam slipped his hand into hers. “There’s a lot of stuff in there that we can buy. But not as much stuff as the Crows have in Sparkles and Junk.”
Thank goodness for that. For someone like her, the Crows’ shop was a visual explosion. At least the shelves in the general store, which was run by Hawks and Owls, were organized and orderly. Even so, she’d learned to limit herself to one or two aisles during each visit to avoid being overwhelmed by all the different things that could be purchased.
Meg stopped at the door of the general store and looked back at Skippy. “Lots of stuff but no food.”
The juvenile Wolf stared at her for a moment, then moved off to explore all the scents left by the Courtyard’s other residents—and look for anything edible that someone might have dropped or left on a table unguarded.
“We’re not allowed to pee in the square, remember?” Sam said when Skippy sniffed around a large flowerpot and started to lift a leg.
Skippy looked like he really wanted to leave a “Skippy was here” mark on the flowerpot, but he obeyed Sam and moved on.
Meg couldn’t say why it pleased her so much that Sam was the leader of the puppy pack—which included Skippy as well as the human children—but it filled her with pride. Sam and Robert had had a couple of scraps in order to settle who was leader, but now they were friends who often went off to explore on their own—at least as far as they were permitted to go in the Courtyard—leaving the girls to play games that didn’t include mud, dirt, climbing trees, or examining partially eaten remains of various kinds of prey.
Meg wished she’d been there when Simon and Pete Denby had laid down the rule that no one who was in human form could eat raw scraps of prey—and no puppy of any kind could try to light a fire like humans did in frontier stories in order to cook meat scraps that had been out in the hot sun for who knew how many days and were not fit to be eaten by human or Wolf.
Of course, the terra indigene had never interacted with human children until now, so Robert’s “interest in the icky” and his somewhat faulty knowledge of frontier living were an education for everyone. Which was why Ruth was researching frontier life as depicted in nonfiction accounts rather than the admittedly more fun fiction that was written about a time that was long gone. Well, maybe not that long gone if you were among the people who were resettling Bennett or the other towns in the Midwest Region.
“I’ll be over here,” Meg said, releasing Sam’s hand as she headed for the aisle that carried the soap and shampoo. None of the personal items sold in the Courtyard were scented—at least not enough for a human nose to detect—but they were made with different ingredients. Now, in the heat of summer, she preferred the yellow soap and shampoo because it felt more invigorating and left the lightest scent of lemon on warm skin. Or maybe she just imagined the scent because of the association of lemon and yellow.
Meg locked the Liaison’s Office and strolled to the Market Square to spend her midday break with Sam. She wanted to hear about what he’d learned in school and about the new Wolf Team book. She wanted to think about something besides Sierra Montgomery and how everyone was stirred up over her departure.
The prophecy cards she’d selected that morning hadn’t told her much—bus, east, and the third card, the result, was a picture of a village. And Simon didn’t have anything to add when he came into the office minutes after she’d turned the cards. He just confirmed what she already knew. And neither of them had any thoughts about the village because the village card didn’t indicate if the place was human, Intuit, or Other.
All the prickling and buzzing and reading of prophecy cards hadn’t ended in a big dramatic moment or some significant event. Sierra had made her choice and left quietly—and yet that choice had negated the prophecies Meg had seen about Sierra and her children.
Sierra was free, and Meg could enjoy her time with Sam.
As she reached the archways that formed one side of the square, the Courtyard bus stopped. She recognized several of the Hawks and Crows who got off the bus. Some were reporting for work in the stores; others were there to do a bit of shopping in human form. The last ones off the bus were Jane Wolfgard, Sam . . . and Skippy.
Since Jane carried a mesh bag full of books, it was easy to guess she was heading for the library.
“We almost missed the bus,” Sam said, rushing up to greet her.
“It would have been a long walk from the Wolfgard Complex if you had,” Meg replied.
“It’s a long walk for human legs,” Sam agreed. He looked at her through his lashes. “But not so long for Wolf legs.”
He was fishing for something, and she had a good idea what it was. “If you came to the Market Square in Wolf form, you wouldn’t be able to shift and look human because you wouldn’t have your clothes, and you can’t shop in the stores if you’re naked.”
“You could carry the clothes for me.”
She braced her hands on her thighs so they were eye to eye. “Do I look like a packhorse?” Seeing the spark of mischief in Sam’s eyes, she added, “Before you answer, remember I’m the one who has money to buy a treat.”
“Roooooooooo.” Skippy gave Sam a pleading look followed by a hard nudge, making it clear he understood the connection between Meg, money, and treat.
Sam returned Skippy’s nudge and grinned at Meg.
“I have to pick up a couple of things at the general store,” she said, leading the way. “Then we can go to Meat-n-Greens for something to eat.”
“I like looking in the general store.” Sam slipped his hand into hers. “There’s a lot of stuff in there that we can buy. But not as much stuff as the Crows have in Sparkles and Junk.”
Thank goodness for that. For someone like her, the Crows’ shop was a visual explosion. At least the shelves in the general store, which was run by Hawks and Owls, were organized and orderly. Even so, she’d learned to limit herself to one or two aisles during each visit to avoid being overwhelmed by all the different things that could be purchased.
Meg stopped at the door of the general store and looked back at Skippy. “Lots of stuff but no food.”
The juvenile Wolf stared at her for a moment, then moved off to explore all the scents left by the Courtyard’s other residents—and look for anything edible that someone might have dropped or left on a table unguarded.
“We’re not allowed to pee in the square, remember?” Sam said when Skippy sniffed around a large flowerpot and started to lift a leg.
Skippy looked like he really wanted to leave a “Skippy was here” mark on the flowerpot, but he obeyed Sam and moved on.
Meg couldn’t say why it pleased her so much that Sam was the leader of the puppy pack—which included Skippy as well as the human children—but it filled her with pride. Sam and Robert had had a couple of scraps in order to settle who was leader, but now they were friends who often went off to explore on their own—at least as far as they were permitted to go in the Courtyard—leaving the girls to play games that didn’t include mud, dirt, climbing trees, or examining partially eaten remains of various kinds of prey.
Meg wished she’d been there when Simon and Pete Denby had laid down the rule that no one who was in human form could eat raw scraps of prey—and no puppy of any kind could try to light a fire like humans did in frontier stories in order to cook meat scraps that had been out in the hot sun for who knew how many days and were not fit to be eaten by human or Wolf.
Of course, the terra indigene had never interacted with human children until now, so Robert’s “interest in the icky” and his somewhat faulty knowledge of frontier living were an education for everyone. Which was why Ruth was researching frontier life as depicted in nonfiction accounts rather than the admittedly more fun fiction that was written about a time that was long gone. Well, maybe not that long gone if you were among the people who were resettling Bennett or the other towns in the Midwest Region.
“I’ll be over here,” Meg said, releasing Sam’s hand as she headed for the aisle that carried the soap and shampoo. None of the personal items sold in the Courtyard were scented—at least not enough for a human nose to detect—but they were made with different ingredients. Now, in the heat of summer, she preferred the yellow soap and shampoo because it felt more invigorating and left the lightest scent of lemon on warm skin. Or maybe she just imagined the scent because of the association of lemon and yellow.
