Pretty sure that she was too sick to be confused about him being naked, Simon shifted to human and crouched beside her. “Meg? What did you see?”

“We have to hide. Have to hide from . . .” She retched. Sam whined. The other pups backed away, finally seeking protection from the adult Wolves.

“Who has to hide?” Simon asked.

“We do. The Wolves.” She focused on him. Her eyes looked weird—too big, too black instead of gray. “Joe’s face looks like that.”

Like what? Simon wondered. Before he could ask Vlad was beside him, reaching past him to wrap a hand around Meg’s arm.

<You’re between forms,> Vlad said. Then to Meg, “Did you see anything about the rest of us? Meg? Do the rest of us need to hide or just the Wolves?”

She stared at Vlad with eyes so blank Simon wondered if something had broken inside her brain.

“Just . . . Wolves,” she finally said. “And people living in little wood houses.” A pause. “Cabins. Fire. Burning.”

“Okay.” Vlad gave her arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “The Wolves will hide with you until it’s safe. The rest of us will send the warning to as many packs as we can.”

Simon looked at Vlad. <Jackson?>

<His prophet pup is scared sick and running, just like Meg,> Vlad replied grimly. <Both of them, in different parts of the continent. This is not good, Simon.>

Joe’s face looks like that. <Joe?>

<The warning was sent. I don’t know if it will be in time.> Vlad rose, his legs already shifted to smoke. <Stay here. The rest of us will do what we can. It’s not just the Wolves. The attack is also aimed at the Intuits.>

Everything he and the rest of the terra indigene in Lakeside had tried to do by working with humans was breaking apart. How far was it going to break?

He shifted back to Wolf form, instinctively understanding that it would calm Meg.

<Simon,> Vlad said.

<Go. Do what you can. Warn Steve Ferryman.>

<I’ll do that first. He’ll get the warning out to other Intuit settlements within reach of the bad humans.> The Sanguinati shifted all the way to smoke and raced over the ground.

<More Sanguinati going with Vlad,> Blair reported.

<We will help you keep watch over our Meg,> Jenni said as she, Starr, and Jake perched in the nearby trees.

<Uncle Simon?> Sam whimpered. <I don’t wanna lick my fur clean.>

He didn’t want to lick the pup either. <As soon as it’s safe, we’ll get you and Meg cleaned up.> And they would need to wash any of the other pups who were splattered with puke. For now, there was nothing any of the Wolves could do.

Resisting the temptation to lick her neck clean of dried blood and ignoring the bad scent of vomit, Simon rested his head on Meg’s shoulder, offering silent comfort—and trying not to think too much about what was happening to the Wolfgard in other parts of Thaisia.

CHAPTER 34

Firesday, Juin 22

Jackson trotted back to the Wolfgard cabin. While troubling, the meeting with the Panthergard had gone well. Only one of the Cats now living in the Sweetwater area had gone through the first level of a human-centric education—enough to read, write, and do sums, as well as speak with humans and make a purchase at a trading post.

Enough education to distinguish between normal human activity like farming and tending animals and activity that felt . . . wrong.

Nothing suspicious around Sweetwater’s Intuit village, but that wasn’t true about Endurance, the closest human village. Something wasn’t right there. Something had changed. But it was like trying to hook your claws into air, hoping to catch hold of the problem and deal with it.

<Jackson! Jackson!> one of the Ravens called. <Your pup is strange sick.>

He ran toward the cabin, momentarily relieved when he spotted Grace. Then Hope burst into view looking as terrified as a fawn being run down by a Grizzly.

“We have to hide!” Hope screamed. She ran past Grace, grabbing at the pups who had run to greet her. “We have to hide!”

“Hope?” Grace said, her white hair gleaming in the sun.

Jolting to a stop, Hope looked at Grace. “Fire. Death. We have to hide!” She ran toward the creek and the pups ran after her.

<Go with her,> Jackson told Grace. <I’ll check the cabin.>

Grace pulled off her clothes, shifted to Wolf, and ran after the girl with the pack’s nanny and the juvenile Wolves following.

Jackson rushed into Hope’s room in the Wolfgard cabin. Where had the girl been? She wasn’t supposed to go out of sight of the cabin without telling an adult Wolf.

He stopped at the smell. Wasn’t Hope a little old to be piddling on the floor?

Spotting the scatter of pencils and crayons, he moved cautiously around the bed—and smelled a hint of blood that was almost overwhelmed by the scent of urine.

He came farther into the room, moving his feet with care to avoid stepping on Hope’s drawing supplies. When he lowered his head to sniff the floor for the blood smell, he spotted the drawings under her bed. He pulled out the intact drawing and then the pieces—and snarled.

All the pups and juvenile Wolves in the Sweetwater pack. Dead. Mutilated. No wonder Hope wanted them to hide!

Then he looked at the intact drawing. Meg Corbyn’s face in one corner. A hilltop view of the Intuit village at Sweetwater, all the buildings on fire. And filling the center of the paper . . .