He didn’t have answers. Would never have answers. But he needed some kind of answer so that Lizzy wouldn’t carry guilt as well as grief.
He walked over to the chair and crouched, resting a hand on Lizzy’s feet.
“I just wanted to ride a pony,” she whimpered, breaking his heart with those big eyes swimming with tears.
“I know, Lizzy girl, I know. But those aren’t ponies people can ride, and you should have respected Miss Meg when she told you that.”
“Did Miss Meg get hurt because I didn’t listen?”
How to explain a blood prophet’s addiction to cutting? How to tell his little girl that Meg’s new cut was, in some way, her doing? How to say that without Lizzy confusing Meg’s cutting with Elayne being stabbed—and dying?
At least the Others had taken the child away before Meg made the cut. But based on the reaction of the Wolves, this had not been a typical cut, and Meg’s life had been at risk.
“Miss Meg is a special kind of girl,” he said carefully. “And she can get hurt when something is more upsetting than she can handle.”
“Nathan doesn’t like me anymore.”
Probably true, but he said, “We’ll see. We’ll have time to talk later about all the scary things that have happened. But right now, Miss Ruth is going to look after you while I take care of something with Captain Burke. Is that okay?”
Lizzy nodded.
He wanted to stay with his little girl. She needed him. But he had to balance that need against the welfare of the entire city of Lakeside. So he had to get the bakery issue settled before the Others settled it in their own way.
He kissed Lizzy’s forehead, then nodded to Ruth as he left the efficiency apartment to join his captain.
* * *
Sitting on the bench in Henry’s studio, Meg stared at the fur on the back of the Grizzly’s hands. The studio didn’t feel peaceful the way it usually did. And the Bear in human form didn’t look peaceful. He looked big and powerful . . . and angry.
“I had to cut.” She hoped Henry would understand since Simon wouldn’t talk to her. She hoped someone would understand and help her understand, because the pain that had overwhelmed her had been too much to keep inside herself.
“Had to.” Nodding, Henry wandered around his studio, looking at the sculptures in various stages of creation. “Had to cut when you were out of control because you’re too stupid to try to understand what is around you without cutting?”
She stared at him, shocked. “Henry . . .”
“We’ve seen enough of these cuts since you came to live with us to know you have warnings, those prickles that tell you something is wrong.” Henry towered over her. “You must have had those prickles at the Pony Barn, but you didn’t tell Nathan so that he would know something was wrong, didn’t walk away from the Pony Barn to see if the prickles would fade. Isn’t that what you’ve done before to determine if a cut was necessary?”
“Yes, but—”
“Instead you stayed, trying to talk to a cub who thought she should get her own way. You stayed when you had already said everything there was to say about her riding the ponies.”
“But Lizzy is in danger!” Meg protested.
“Who among us didn’t already know that?” he replied with a curtness that wounded her. She expected Simon to snap and snarl at her, but not Henry.
“And Nathan was in danger too!”