Laughing, she stood up. “Sorry, I can’t speak Wolf.”
The female said sternly, “No shifting outside. It’s still too cold to be out here in human skin without any clothes.”
And it spares me from looking at a pack of naked little boys—and girls? Meg thought as she opened the passenger door. She wasn’t about to look closely enough to figure out gender.
The puppy pack, spotting the containers, surged around her legs, almost knocking her off her feet.
Before the female could react, Meg said, “Enough! Polite puppies get a treat. Pushy puppies don’t get anything but rocks.”
There was some jostling and nipping as the pups sorted themselves out, but in short order they lined up behind Sam and looked at her expectantly. The female simply watched her.
It still amazed her that a demand for polite behavior actually got results. In their pony form, the Elementals’ steeds were the Courtyard’s mail carriers, coming up to the office so she could pack their baskets with mail for each complex. She also gave them treats every workday morning—carrots or apples or, on Moonsday, sugar lumps. Whenever they started pushing each other in order to be first for the treat, a reminder that only polite ponies carried mail and received treats was usually sufficient to convince them to settle down. Since they had names like Tornado and Avalanche and could easily knock the building down around her, her insistence on good behavior was as much about safety as manners.
“These are fresh-made cookies,” Meg said opening the container. “So they’re a special treat.” She held out a piece of cookie.
Sam approached her, his exaggerated care in taking the cookie from her acting as a demonstration for the other pups. As soon as the last pup had his cookie, they all ran off to munch on the treats.
Meg focused her attention on the female again. “I’m Meg, the Human Liaison.” Not that any terra indigene in the Courtyard didn’t know that. She was not only an employee of the Courtyard; she was a major source of entertainment for the Others.
Now she hoped this female’s curiosity would last long enough for Meg to carry out the other reason she’d driven to the complex.
“You’re not a dominant female, but they still obeyed you,” the Wolf finally said.
“They weren’t going to get the cookies if they weren’t polite.”
The Wolf shook her head. “They’re still young, but the pack of them could have taken the cookies if obeying you wasn’t important to them in some way. Not dominant, but not prey. This is interesting. I’m Jane, the Wolfgard bodywalker.” She lightly touched one furry ear. “You aren’t frightened by this?”
Meg considered the question. She’d seen Simon when he was a mixture of human and Wolf. It usually happened when he had a strong emotional response to a situation and instinctively took what he needed from both forms. Having seen him in full human form and full Wolf, seeing him between was more disturbing—or, at the very least, more distracting.
“You look balanced,” Meg said honestly. She didn’t know if Jane couldn’t shift the rest of the way and look fully human or if this was a personal choice. Either way, she suddenly understood why Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite were sometimes open only to residents of the Courtyard. Humans and Others were an uneasy mix most of the time. Seeing reminders that the ones who ruled Thaisia—and most of the rest of the world—had never been and never would be human could do nothing but add more fuel to an already combustible relationship.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Meg reached into the BOW and brought out the other container. “Mr. Wolfgard wanted most of the cookies in this delivery for his big meeting, but I wanted some of the adult Wolves to try these. If they want to. I need to get some idea of whether it’s worth ordering them from the bakery at Ferryman’s Landing.” She opened the container and held it out. “The cow-shaped cookies have a beef flavoring, the turkey-shaped cookies have a poultry flavoring, and …”
Jane held up one of the cookies. “Human-flavored?”
Meg stifled a sigh. That would be the first thing on her feedback list: don’t make people-shaped cookies. The Wolves were way too interested and all of them leaped to a logical, if disturbing, expectation about the taste.
“No, those have chamomile,” Meg said. “It’s an herb that makes a soothing tea. I gave one of these to Skippy and he … Well, he went to sleep for several hours.”
“I heard about that.” Jane sniffed the cookie.
“I think it might be too hard for people teeth,” Meg said quickly when it looked like Jane was going to take a bite. Then she wondered what a human-shaped mouth full of wolf teeth would look like and decided she didn’t want to know. “Anyway, I thought you might have a use for the chamomile cookies. The instructions said the cookies can be frozen and then thawed when you need them.”
“Yes, these would be useful,” Jane said thoughtfully.
“The other cookies are just treats. The ones cut into bars have honey.”
Jane wrinkled her nose, confirming Meg’s suspicion that the Wolves weren’t going to be interested in the honey bars. But Henry had taken a couple, and Jenni Crowgard had taken one to share with her sisters.
“I’d better go, or I’ll be late opening the office.” Meg closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Let me know how you like the cookies.”
As she got in the BOW, she saw the puppies racing toward her until they realized Jane now held the container of treats. But there was one pup who let out a mournful, squeaky-door howl as he watched her drive away.
When Monty reached Howling Good Reads, the sign on the door said RESIDENTS ONLY. He rapped on the door anyway and kept rapping until Simon turned the lock, pulling the door open but blocking entrance into the store.
“This isn’t a good time, Lieutenant. The Courtyard has some guests for the next few days, and the stores aren’t open to human customers.”
“I have some questions, and I need answers,” Monty said. “And having a few select human customers might be something you would find useful.”
Simon studied him with amber eyes that held flickers of red. Then the Wolf stepped back enough for Monty to enter the store.
Turning the lock, Simon went back to the book display.
Monty followed him, putting aside the questions for a moment when he noticed the author names on the covers. He picked up a book. “Alan Wolfgard? I haven’t heard of him. What does he write?” He figured the red ink splashed on the cover was a strong clue but felt it was prudent to ask.
“Thrillers and horror.” Simon gave him a toothy smile. “As you must have guessed from the name, he’s terra indigene, so you wouldn’t have heard of him unless you borrowed some books from our library. You could ask Ruthie. I think she’s read some of Alan’s stories.”
In that case, he would definitely ask Ruthie. And Kowalski.
“I’ve heard the Courtyard bus has been to the train station a couple of times today, picking up passengers.”
“Our being able to use the trains is part of the agreement that allows humans to have the tracks between cities.”
“I wasn’t commenting about the Others’ right to use the railway, Mr. Wolfgard. But you said you were having guests. With the current unrest here and the future of Talulah Falls not completely resolved, I’m concerned.”
Simon didn’t look up from the display. “Some of the terra indigene leaders have things to discuss. Don’t human leaders meet to discuss things that concern their people?”
“Yes, they do. But when our leaders meet, cities don’t usually disappear.”
Simon laughed. It was a cold sound. “Wait here.” He walked to the back of the store.
A gathering of terra indigene leaders. How long had this meeting been planned? What had been the catalyst? And why had the Lakeside Courtyard been chosen to host this particular meeting?