“We can’t feed all of Lakeside.”

“We’re not supposed to. Predators gather when there is a bounty of food and stay until the food source crashes and they begin to starve. Then some stay but more leave to find another place to hunt. There are empty places now, Simon. They’re not human controlled anymore, but there is work, and where there is work, there will, most likely, also be food.”

“Tolya and Jackson are all right. So is the Hope pup.”

“And Stavros is on his way to Lakeside to talk to Grandfather before going on to Talulah Falls.” Vlad pushed his chair back. “Go find Meg. Check out the garden and let her see if the green things survived.”

“They’re probably floating, with the ground being so soggy.”

Simon was a friend, but every once in a while Vlad couldn’t resist pulling the Wolf’s tail. “If you don’t want to be out there trying to mop up the water to unsoggy the ground, I suggest you sound more optimistic.”

“Meg wouldn’t want to do the mopping thing.”

“Are you sure?”

Simon just growled and walked out of the room.

Vlad smiled. None of them were sure what the female pack would think was a reasonable thing to do, but the one thing he was sure of was that the Others weren’t going to ask those females what should be done for baby plants stuck in soggy ground. They might think mopping the garden was a fine idea.

Amused—and wondering if he should mention the garden to Jester and let the Coyote be the one to start a little trouble—Vlad returned to Howling Good Reads to deal with humans who hadn’t been harmed but still had good reason to be terrified.

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 52

Cel-Romano

In villages all along the Cel-Romano border, people regarded their restless, fearful animals and, remembering stories passed down through generations, knew what was coming.

After sundown, when soldiers bivouacked around the villages wouldn’t see and report them to the Important People, they placed bowls of sweetened milk on their back doorsteps, or a slice of bread with a bit of oil or butter, or a slice of cake that had used up precious rations. They placed their gifts and whispered, “For our friends,” before they gathered their children close and prayed they would see the dawn.

They heard the rat-tat-tat of gunfire and the truncated screams of the soldiers who had laughed at the villagers for their superstitions about the creatures that lived in—and guarded—the wild country. They heard things bump against their doors, sniffing around the gifts. And they held their loved ones tight as a terrible silence brushed against their homes and continued on its way to the Big Cities where the Important People lived.

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