Meg looked at the stairs leading to the efficiency apartments above the seamstress/tailor’s shop—and grabbed at her arms as the buzzing became brutally painful.
Four apartments up there. And this buzzing under her skin was the dowsing rod that would pinpoint which apartment, which friend, might be in danger. She would figure out which apartment produced the buzz, which people were the subject of the prophecy, and then she would run away until the buzzing stopped.
She could do this. She would do this.
“Meg?” Sam sounded scared.
Couldn’t do this with just the boy here. If anything went wrong . . .
She raised her head. “Arroo! Arroo!”
Sam cocked his head. “What is that?”
“It’s a warning,” Meg panted. “Something’s wrong at the efficiency apartments. Bad wrong. Have to warn.”
“Arroo!” Sam howled. “Arroo!”
“Arroo!” Skippy howled a moment later.
A moment after that, a deeper howl answered them.
Meg bolted up the stairs. Halfway up, she stumbled and fell, hitting her knee.
“Meg!”
She twisted around to sit on the stair, barely noticing Elliot as he ran toward her from the consulate. She stared at the torn skin on her knee as her body filled with the agony that was the prelude to prophecy.
Then Tess was beside her, one strong hand bracing the back of her head, and Elliot was on her other side.
“Have to,” Meg gasped. “Have to . . .”
“There’s no time to fetch paper and pen,” Tess said. “We’ll have to listen carefully and remember.”
Elliot nodded.
Tess turned Meg’s face so their eyes met. “Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”
A jumble of images. “Pink book, gold stars . . . secrets . . . apartment . . . thief, more thief . . . Lizzy book . . . train . . . train . . . shinies . . . man holding a length of pipe . . . Crows . . . bags of shinies . . . Run!”
Images scalded her mind, burned into her memory. Instead of the euphoria that would protect her from the visions, Meg felt fear gathering until it filled her—a different kind of agony.
Then she saw her own arm rise, stiff and straight. She saw her forefinger pointing and the thumb straight up. She saw the other fingers curling into her palm so that her hand looked like . . . “Simon!”
* * *
As Meg collapsed, Tess cushioned the girl’s head with her hand and looked at Elliot.
“I’ll call Simon,” Elliot said. He leaped off the stairs and moved a few feet away, pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket.
“She fainted?” Blair asked.
Tess nodded. Not a surprise that the dominant enforcer would have come running, especially if he’d been close enough to hear those odd howls. Not a surprise to see Julia and Marie Hawkgard or Jester Coyotegard responding. Rushing to join their little group were Lynn and Jane Wolfgard, the toother and bodywalker respectively.
“Simon is in danger?” Jester asked. “He needs help?”
“All the help he can get,” Tess replied grimly, hoping the Coyote would understand the kind of help Simon needed.
“I’ll tell the girls at the lake.” He looked at Meg and hesitated. “Our Meg will be all right?”