“Because of you and the Lizzy!” Henry roared. “You put a Wolf who thought you were a friend in the position of being around fresh blood you know is a danger to him. Did you know Nathan had to make the cut? You were so out of control, he had to make the cut to stop you from slashing your belly open.”
Meg froze, shocked so deeply she could barely breathe. She remembered Nathan howling, so much misery in the sound. “No,” she whispered. “No, I didn’t do that.”
“You did,” Henry growled. “Fire helped hold you down, and that experience has sharpened her feelings about humans in general and the Lizzy in particular.”
“But it was worth it,” Meg insisted. What she had seen had to be worth all this hurt she’d caused to beings she cared about.
Henry pulled a piece of paper wrapped around her folding razor out of his pocket. He tossed both into her lap. “Was this worth the distress you caused?”
She unrolled the paper and stared at the words.
Happy mask
Angry face
Ice chest
Heart
Rotting meat
“There must have been more.” She watched her hands shake.
“No. That was all you said.”
“Maybe . . . maybe the cut wasn’t long enough or deep enough.” The cut felt long enough and deep enough.
“Maybe men like the Controller were right and the cassandra sangue can’t survive outside of cages. Maybe blood prophets can’t experience the world like other beings because everything and everyone can be an excuse to use the razor. Is that what we should tell the Intuits and other humans who are struggling to help these girls survive? That the blood prophets need limited contact with other people, limited experiences, a limited life? Otherwise you’ll cut yourselves to death over any little thing.”
“No! Henry, I did it for Lizzy!”
“None of us believe that.”
She stared at him, stunned.
“It is said you have a thousand cuts before the one that kills you. How many scars do you have now, Meg? How many years do you have left if you cut yourself every three days? You say you did this cut for the Lizzy? What do you want us to tell Sam when you bleed out one day from a cut you didn’t need to make?”
“Henry . . . ,” she sobbed. His words battered her like fists.
“You hurt all of us. You hurt Sam and Simon and Nathan. You upset the Elementals and the ponies and the Sanguinati. You’re supposed to be the Pathfinder, the one who will consider alternatives to the razor so that blood prophets can live in the outside world.”
Pressing a hand to the cut at her waist, she wept. And when Henry sat down beside her and put his arms around her, offering grumbling comfort as he might do for a cub, that hurt worse than his angry words.
CHAPTER 26
Watersday, Maius 12
Lizzy is fine, and Ruth is well able to look after her for a couple of hours, Monty thought as he and Burke walked into Nadine’s Bakery & Café after the lunchtime rush. Stay focused on the work now.
Nadine didn’t give him her usual smile. Instead she said, “Are you here to ask me to choose a side, Lieutenant?”
“Choose a side?”
“Maybe this has been bubbling under the surface for a long time, but it seems like, all of a sudden, people are expected to declare themselves one way or the other. Either you’re for humans and against the Others, or you’re a traitor to your own kind. Neutral as an option hasn’t been eliminated completely, but it’s getting there. There’s talk that we’ll be seeing shortages of pork and beef by the end of summer because animals are dying due to lack of feed. There’s already a limit on how much flour and sugar bakeries can purchase each week, and prices for some items have already gone up—have doubled in some cases.” Nadine sighed. “You know Chris from Fallacaro Lock and Key?”