“There’s no time!” Meg panted in an effort to stay focused. “I can’t explain how it works. Not now. But if I can’t warn them, someone will get hurt!”
“Gods above and below,” Merri Lee muttered. “Okay. All right. What do I need to do?”
“Everything is ready.” Meg rushed into the bathroom, sat on the closed toilet seat, and opened the silver razor. “Just write down everything I say. And once I make the cut, say, ‘Speak, prophet, and I will listen.’ I don’t remember the Controller saying that, but whenever Tess says it, it helps me focus.”
“Gods above and below,” Merri Lee muttered again.
Meg held the razor over her left hand, following the pins-and-needles feeling until it became a buzz centered in her little finger. Gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to slash the skin open, she made a precise cut. Still gritting her teeth, she set the razor on the sink and swallowed the need to scream as the agonizing pain that was the prelude of prophecy filled her. Then she heard the words that were a signal to speak, and pain changed to euphoria as she shared the visions that spilled from her mind as her blood dripped into the sink.
When she came back to herself, Merri Lee was staring at her.
“Wow,” Merri Lee said. “That’s fascinating to watch in a creepy sort of way.”
Meg looked away.
“Sorry. It’s just … Wow.” Merri Lee blew out a breath. “Meg, we have to call someone. Bandage up the finger first?”
“You don’t have to stay. Just give Henry the prophecy. He’ll pass it on to Simon.” It hadn’t occurred to her that a human would think watching a prophecy being spoken was creepy. Maybe all the Controller’s clients felt that way. Or was it different when you were paying lots of money to be told something about yourself?
“Of course I have to stay,” Merri Lee said briskly. She turned on the water taps, adjusting one then the other until she had the temperature she wanted. “Put your hand under the water.”
Meg let her friend wash the hand and pat it dry. Neither of them said anything while the ointment was applied and the little finger carefully bandaged.
“Call Henry or Tess,” Meg said as they left the bathroom. She would clean the razor in a minute. “Simon isn’t going to be happy about this.”
Merri Lee gave Meg an odd look. “You don’t remember anything you said, do you?”
She shook her head. “In order to remember it, the prophet has to swallow the prophecy. Not speak,” she clarified.
“And that hurts.”
“Yes.”
Merri Lee nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll call Henry.” She stopped at the doorway to the sorting room. “Meg? I’m sorry I said it was creepy to watch. It is, in a way, but I’d like to understand it better. And I’d like to help.” She paused. “I have an idea. I’ll see if Lorne sells index cards at the Three Ps.”
While Merri Lee went into the sorting room to call Henry and Lorne, Meg cleaned her razor. She wanted it out of sight before any of the Others burst through the office’s back door.
Vlad walked into HGR’s office. “Another meeting?”
Simon remained sitting behind the desk. “Humans have meetings all the time.”
“I know. How do they get anything done?”
He didn’t much care if the monkeys ever got anything done.
Tess, Henry, and Blair walked into the office.
“Close the door,” Simon said.
“This can’t be good,” Blair muttered as he closed the door.
No reason to fluff it up. “Steve Ferryman called me earlier today, after Jerry Sledgeman made the delivery of cookies. Too many Intuits had a bad feeling this morning, so they moved all the children over to the island.”
Blair nodded. “That call was the reason you wanted Nathan roaming the delivery area instead of being inside the Liaison’s Office.”
Simon nodded. “Ferryman called again a few minutes ago. A man named Phineas Jones showed up at Ferryman’s Landing.”
“Fin,” Tess said. “Ass.”
Simon nodded. “Ferryman called him a smiling shark.”
“What did this Phineas Jones want?” Vlad asked.
“He didn’t actually say it, but Ferryman thinks Jones is looking for blood prophets,” Simon replied.
“Is the shark still in Ferryman’s Landing?” Tess asked.
Simon shook his head. “Ferryman told him to be on his way. The Crowgard, Hawkgard, and Eaglegard kept watch on him all the way to Lakeside, then lost the car in traffic. We should figure that he’s gone to ground here.”
“Do we call that lieutenant?” Blair asked. “Can he hunt for Jones?”
“Doubtful,” Vlad said. “Jones isn’t an unusual name, and there are plenty of hotels, inns, and B and Bs in Lakeside. We don’t even know what this man looks like, besides being a smiling shark, which I don’t think the police will find useful.”
“Ferryman gave me a basic description, and he and Czerneda are working to get a likeness of Jones’s face made,” Simon said. “Once they have that, they’ll send the image to us and to Lieutenant Montgomery. But I don’t think we’ll have to do much hunting. We know he’s here, and there’s only one blood prophet in Lakeside.” He looked at Blair. “You get Skippy settled into the Liaison’s Office?”
“More or less,” Blair replied. “But he’s not much good as a watch Wolf.”
“Nathan won’t be far away. In two days we’ll be meeting with leaders from the Midwest, Northeast, and High Northeast. We’re going to keep the Courtyard stores closed to human customers, but I want our humans working.
Marie Hawkgard will stand watch at HGR. Nathan will roam the area around the Market Square, Liaison’s Office, and consulate.”
“So will I,” Blair growled. “Right now, Skippy’s form of attack is tripping someone in his enthusiasm to see if they have anything to eat.”
A frantic tapping on the door before John opened it and poked his head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but Merri Lee just called and said Henry or Tess should come to the Liaison’s Office right away. Meg just had a prophecy.”
Simon pushed past everyone in the room and knocked John aside in his haste to get down the stairs and out of the back door of HGR. But he wasn’t as fast as Vlad, who had opened the upstairs window, shifted to smoke, and flowed down the outside wall and over the pavement. By the time Simon caught up to him, Vlad had shifted back to human form and was opening the office’s back door.
They charged into the room together, followed by Henry, Blair, and Tess.
Merri Lee let out a startled yip and jumped away from the sitting area. She stared at the Others, then looked toward the table and said, “You weren’t kidding when you said they wouldn’t take this well.”
Simon spun toward the table. Meg sat on one of the chairs, looking a little pale. She held up her left hand, showing all of them the neat—and small—bandage on her little finger.
He wanted to tear off that bandage, wanted to see the wound and lick it clean. Wanted …
A warning growl from Henry stopped him from taking a second step toward the table.
“You’re making tea?” Tess said.
Merri Lee nodded. “Peppermint for me and chamomile for Meg.”
“I’ll finish it. You sit down.”
When Merri Lee didn’t move, Simon stepped back as much as he could with Blair and Henry standing behind him.
“You all right, Meg?” Vlad asked.
She nodded, then looked at Merri Lee as she touched the pad of paper on the table and the stack of index cards. “Tell them.”
Merri Lee slipped into the other chair. “I wasn’t sure how this is usually done, so I made extra notes.”
“Words first,” Henry said.
Merri Lee looked at her list. “Teeth. No! Sandwich. Skull and crossbones. Broom. Bright frogs. Arm. Shark. Teakettle.”
Simon swallowed the desire to snarl, howl, and otherwise express displeasure and frustration. Cryptic nonsense. And what wasn’t cryptic were the two items that had shown up in other prophecies—and at least one of them meant something lethal.
Tess brought the mugs of tea to the table. She stared at the pad of paper, then at the index cards. “What are these little drawings?”