A Feral Darkness by Doranna Durgin Read Free Book Online Page B

often."
           "Showed up on my porch last night," Brenna said. "But he ought to be home tonight." She caught up the receiver from the wall phone, stabbed an unlit outgoing line button, and dialed the number, twirling the collar around her finger as the line rang.
           "I'm sorry, but that number is not in this service area. Please check the number you are dialing and try again."
           "Huh," Brenna frowned at the phone, hanging it up with much less flare. She looked at the tag again. "Number doesn't exist, according to them. But who'd keep a tag with the wrong number on it?"
           "What's the address?"
           Brenna shook her head, running her thumb over the engraving. "There isn't one. Just the phone. Dumb."
           "Well, it'd be fine if the phone worked ." Elizabeth's voice came out muffled; her head was in the vicinity of the dog's flank as she fought for control over its foot. Giving up, she straightened and glared into the Springer's eye long enough to bellow in a startling loud voice, " Straighten up! "
           Astonished, the dog stood stock still, watching Elizabeth with wide eyes as she quickly went back to work. "Sometimes it gets 'em, sometimes it doesn't," she said. "I give it three feet's worth of time."
           "Mmmm," Brenna said in agreement, staring at the other side of the ID tag. "Champion Nuadha's Silver Druid."
           Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, there's a name for you. It'd make more sense if he was blue merle. What was that, New-AHD-ja ?"
           " NWUH-dja ," she said absently, looking at the name and thinking Elizabeth was right. Silver could describe merle, but not a black, white and brown tri-color. Elizabeth grabbed the collar to look with vast uncertainty at the tag.
           "Noowahja?" she said, coming close. "Do you think?"
           Counter-intuitive as the pronunciation was, Brenna didn't doubt it—although as she retrieved the collar, she gave it her own thoughtful look. She ought to doubt it.
           But she didn't.
           So she tucked the question away to think about later, and stuck her head in the tub room to offer an experimental, "Hey, Druid!"
           From behind the wind of the dryers, he got to his feet, cocking his head at her. No mistaking that. "Never mind," she told him, and retreated to the grooming room. "Druid for a call name, that's not too bad. But you'd think anyone with a champion would make it easier to return him!"
           "No kidding. All right, Springer, you've had your last chance," Elizabeth said with some exasperation, as her fourth attempt to trim under the dog's tail was met with a spinning tactic. "At least I got all the feet done," she said, shortening the noose and using a second noose to secure the dog to the front of the grooming elbow. "If these people would just handle their dogs—"
           "Yeah, yeah, you're preaching to the choir here." But Brenna slid Druid's collar down her arm and let it dangle at her elbow while she went to the Springer's head and distracted her with kissy-kissy noises. Fortunately, the dog was fundamentally sweet if uncivilized, and she was glad enough to squint her eyes with happiness at Brenna's attentions—although the tail-wagging didn't necessarily make things much easier for Elizabeth.
           Elizabeth moved on to the dog's head and ears, and Brenna went back to check the Cardigan, flipping off the dryers and rolling them out of the way. She laughed, then, at the somewhat stunned look on his face; with all the dryers on him, his coat was as fly-away as it could get. Except for his haunches, which of course he'd been sitting on.
           She considered the temperature—nice for early March, mid-fifties—and decided against taking him out in it without some spot-drying. A few moments on one of the tables was all it took, and then she stepped back to consider her new charge.
           "He's got a lot