The fog lifted on the Talulah River. The ferry and barge that linked the two halves of Ferryman’s Landing resumed their schedule, with the crew keeping a wary eye on the weather. They transported residents who had been stuck on the wrong side of the river as well as all the supplies, packages, and mail that had stacked up.
Hawks and Eagles soared overhead, and Crows perched here and there on the vessels, a black-feathered pledge of safety for passengers and crew. But the fishing boats stayed docked, and not even the residents of Ferryman’s Landing dared go out on the water. Every time a boat from Talulah Falls made a dash to escape, a whirlpool appeared on the river and pulled the boat down. Every evening as the sun went down, a storm rose—sleet, heavy snow, battering winds. For two days the storm arrived at sundown and left at sunrise, and the clear blue skies of daylight were a painful reminder of what else humans could lose if they tried to take what didn’t belong to them.
On Earthday morning, James Gardner found a spotted gray pony outside his barn, expecting to be fed. So James fed the animal and opened the door of an empty stall. The pony settled in as if he’d always lived there, coming and going as he pleased, following Lorna Gardner around whenever she went outside. Finally she cut up an apple and let her children feed a few chunks to the pony, and he seemed content with the treat.
The next morning, James paid a few calls to other Simple Life folks, asking if anyone had lost a gray pony. When he passed Ming Beargard on the road, he asked the same question. Beargard said, “Fog isn’t lost; he’s waiting.”
On his way home, James stopped at friends’ houses, and they spread word throughout the Simple Life community that the Elementals weren’t done yet with Great Island, the river, or Talulah Falls.
When Roger Czerneda did his patrol around the island and checked in with the farmers, James told him too.
As the storm around Talulah Falls faded on Moonsday evening, a handful of police stations in the Falls found sealed tubs on the sidewalk. The tub left outside the mayor’s office contained the head and wallet, identifying the man as the owner of the house where the Sanguinati and four humans were butchered.
On Sunsday morning, a sobbing man on a citizens-band radio contacted the police station at Ferryman’s Landing and pleaded to have someone, anyone, deliver a message: the survivors in Talulah Falls wanted to negotiate with the terra indigene.
CHAPTER 19
On Windsday morning, Steve Ferryman and Jerry Sledgeman stood at the ferry’s rail. They had clear skies and smooth water, and plenty of Great Island residents had been at the dock this morning to take packages to the mainland half of the village and pick up anticipated deliveries.
Lois Greene, editor of the Great Island Reporter, had run a special edition yesterday with Steve’s list of emergency measures on the front page, guaranteeing it would command the attention of every adult in Ferryman’s Landing. So he wasn’t surprised to see the pile of backpacks and overnight cases at the dock, ready for the ferry’s return trip to the island.
The updated prophecy Simon Wolfgard had e-mailed to him had made his skin crawl. And being told that one of the Elementals’ steeds, in its chubby pony form, was staying at the Gardner farm because it was “waiting” was reason enough to figure that whatever was coming wasn’t going to pass them by.
“You okay with making this delivery?” Steve asked as they walked off the ferry with three plastic containers.
“Sure,” Jerry replied. “Just wish I had more cargo to justify the gasoline usage.”
“If things go the way I hope they do, this will be the last light delivery you’ll make to Lakeside. And at least some of the teenagers who are looking for work this summer will have jobs because the village businesses will need extra hands.”
They stored the containers in the van that was parked in the delivery area of the dock.
“We’ll see what we see.” Jerry closed the van’s back doors and went around to the driver’s door. “I’ll give you a shout when I return.”
Steve watched Jerry drive away. Then he turned back to the ferry, figuring he’d give his brother, Will, a hand storing all that baggage before running up to the bookstore to pick up a copy of the Lakeside News to read on the return trip to the island. But the skin between his shoulder blades suddenly started twitching and twingeing.
He looked at the sky and the water. Still clear, still smooth.
Something’s coming, he thought, seeing the way Will suddenly straightened up and looked at the sky and water.
Before he reached his brother, his mobile phone started ringing.
“So Ruthie is going to be an instructor at the Courtyard, teaching the Others how to get along in the human world,” Kowalski said as they drove out of the Chestnut Street station’s lot. “Like what we saw a while back in A Little Bite but more formal. It doesn’t pay as much in human money as her teaching job did, but with the credits for the Market Square stores, we’ll do all right.”
Hearing something different under the upbeat words, Monty studied his partner. “Do you have a problem with her working in the Courtyard?”
“Me? No. But we had dinner with my folks last night, and my father said he’s been hearing mutters at work about how people who help the Others are traitors to their own kind. My brother is attending the tech college, and he’s heard the same thing.” Kowalski hesitated. “I still think working with the terra indigene will pay off in the end, but …”
“But you’re worried about Ruthie’s safety?”
“Yes. More so after what happened to Merri Lee. And some of Ruthie’s friends—girls she’s known since grade school—don’t want to be friends anymore because she spends time in the Courtyard and helps the Others. And now with everything going on in Talulah Falls … All the TV talk shows are going on and on about what right the terra indigene have to dictate who runs the government in a human town.”
“They can dictate the terms because their alternative is destroying the town,” Monty replied quietly. “And as I understand it, Talulah Falls is no longer a human-controlled town. The government, such as it may be, will be there to keep public services running and act as a liaison between the town’s human population and the Others now in charge of the Courtyard.”
“I don’t think that has sunk in yet,” Kowalski said. “That the Falls is now a human settlement in the Others’ territory and they’re the ones making all the rules—and dishing out the punishment if any of their rules are broken.”
The radio stations barely played two songs in a row this morning without repeating the special news story: as part of the negotiations with the terra indigene, all the top government officials in Talulah Falls were required to resign and leave the area.
The Others weren’t just taking away the status and power those people had; they were driving out anyone they considered adversaries. And all the terra indigene who had run that Courtyard had also left in favor of new leadership that wasn’t already soured by extended contact with humans. A clean slate. A new start. A last chance for Talulah Falls to remain a place where humans could live, even if it was no longer a place where humans could do as they pleased.
The news stories didn’t mention that part, just as the news stories were suddenly vague when it came to acknowledging the people who were dead or missing in the Falls.
If we’re not careful, there will be a lot more humans among the dead and missing, Monty thought. “Tell me something, Karl. How many terra indigene living on this continent have any contact with humans? Guess at an estimate, figuring in every city, town, village, hamlet, and human settlement located deep in the wild country.”