Shaxoa's Gift

by Gladden, DelSheree

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  Releasing me, Samantha turned to hug her sister.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Kaya said.

  Samantha sighed and hugged her arms around her body. “I just hope we’re doing the right thing.”

  13: Expectations

  Having never worked with his allies long enough to care about what they called themselves, the Matwau had never asked for their names. Finding it difficult to call on a specific creature without some kind of title, he gave them numbers instead. The thought had occurred to him to simply ask their names, surely they had chosen something to call themselves, but that would have implied weakness and need.

  Assigning them numbers had obviously irritated some of the gathered creatures, but they accepted the titles without any verbal complaints. Some of the weaker ones had even seemed relieved to be addressed in such an impersonal manner. Even when the numbering system was assigned by their obvious strength, the weaker ones seemed pleased. Perhaps they were hoping that if he viewed them as the weakest, he would require the least of them. The Matwau sneered at their assumption. They should have already learned that if one of them failed, they would all reap the punishment, strong and weak alike.

  The creature he had dubbed “One” approached him. Right on time. “Report,” the Matwau demanded.

  “We are making progress. With nothing to go on but a face, I’m not sure what you expect of us, but we are…”

  “I expect you to follow orders. I expect you to find my prey. I expect you to do it without complaining and without questions. Do you understand?” the Matwau asked. One nodded curtly. “Then finish your report.”

  One’s stance was solid steel. “Six of the twelve were sent out to search New Mexico as you requested. They have almost concluded their search with no sign of the quarry.”

  That was very interesting to the Matwau. New Mexico had been the obvious choice. “What of the second team?”

  “The second team of five is two thirds of the way through their search. Given that they were given a lesser number to execute their search, it is only to be expected that they will take longer,” One was quick to add. “They have yet to find any sign of the quarry, either.”

  The Matwau nodded. The fact that his two top choices were proving fruitless was somewhat disturbing to him. As far as the time it was taking them to search, he had expected as much. This search would not be easy. There was so much land to cover. He would not admit to One that the eleven sent out to search had actually exceeded his expectations when it came to their timeliness. He did not believe in positive reinforcement.

  “The progress is much too slow,” the Matwau said. He glared at the ground, making his disappointment obvious as he paced back and forth. “Move the six on to their next target and join the five to speed up their search. Report back to me when you have finished your assignment.”

  One nodded and turned away quickly, trotting away at a harried pace.

  The Matwau watched him go. Despite the empty results, things were progressing according to his plan. A familiar pain shot up his spine, a reminder of how important having a plan was. This time his plan was impeccable, and he would follow it to the last detail. Confidence swirled around him. He would find his quarry very soon. And when he did, the real excitement would begin.

  14: Slipping Out

  When Uriah’s home came into view, the tension gripping me melted away. Sophia didn’t ask what had happened between me and my dad. I was sure she heard most of the argument, but I was grateful for her silence. Much of what my dad said was beyond me to understand, but I had put aside my anger at him for now. He made his own bad choices, and now he would have to live with them.

  As for me, I was still in the middle of my own private battle. I wasn’t going to take on his as well. Not having to talk about my dad didn’t mean the ride was peaceful. As soon as my anger and confusion cooled, Daniel swept back into my mind. Instantly, I dredged up every angry thought I could think of to push away the memory of his face and touch.

  Sophia glanced at me worriedly as she drove, no doubt thinking my anger was still directed at my dad. The hardest part was that I was fighting this by myself, just like Quaile said I should. Even Uriah’s mom, who was worried about her son, and hoping almost as much as I was that whatever he was doing would be successful and bring him home quickly, couldn’t really understand my pain.

  Pulling into the driveway, Sophia was out of the car quickly. I sat alone for a few moments. I wondered if Sophia was rushing in to warn Lina not to mention the visit to my parent’s house. I laughed. Everyone was trying so hard not to mention what was happening, but what I really needed was to talk about it, to have someone to cry with me.

  My strong shoulders to cry on and warm arms to hold me were gone with Uriah. “Stop it,” I said to myself. “You can’t always rely on him.” I felt like a puddle of Jell-O sitting there in the car, but I knew there was strength somewhere inside of me. I just had to find it. Unbuckling my seat belt, I pushed the door open and went inside the house.

  As I expected, nobody made any mention of my dad. Lina asked about my mom and if I had gotten everything I needed, but pretended the visit had been nothing out of the ordinary. Their cautious topics were completely unnecessary, and to be honest, pretty irritating. I decided to put an end to the sidestepping.

  “I talked to my dad,” I said loud enough for Sophia to hear me in the kitchen. With how loudly I had been yelling at my dad, I knew Sophia and my mom had overheard everything I’d said to him, but the point was to let her know I wasn’t still crying about it.

  “Oh,” Lina said, “did you?” Watching me cautiously, she simply waited for my response.

  “Yes, we had a very interesting conversation. He told me that he tried to kill me because he loved me and thought he was doing what was best for me,” I said. I waited to see what Lina had to say about that. I wanted someone besides me to be angry, no, to be honest. Lina’s face twitched with what I thought was anger, but she remained silent. I would have to push her harder.

  “He told me how he thought that Uriah was only going to hurt me, and that I could never understand what he meant by that.” I struggled not to show any emotion. Sophia stood in the kitchen doorway watching me with a very curious expression on her round face.

  Lina’s fingers wrapped around the arms of the rocking chair, her knuckles going white with effort. I pushed her a little farther. “He told me that he married an outsider because he thought it would stop me from falling for Uriah, even though that doesn’t make any sense because he married my mom before Uriah was even born. He knows something about Uriah but he won’t tell me what it is. He thinks Uriah is bad for me, that he’ll lead me to places I shouldn’t go.”

  Lina snapped, words slipping out before she could stop herself. “Your father is a fool! He has no right to judge my son. He should have known better than to say anything about him or his future. Thomas Brant is a selfish idiot.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her hand slapped over her lips in embarrassment.

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I said. A wry smile crept onto my relieved face. I felt bad for taunting Lina, but I felt so much less alone at her words.

  Uriah’s mother stared at me, confusion twisting her face. Sophia struggled to keep a smile from her lips.

  “You guys don’t have to pretend everything is okay,” I said. “I know it’s not. My dad inadvertently tried to kill me, and I have no idea where Uriah is. I spend every second fighting away the urge to run after Daniel by surrounding myself with memories of Uriah. What I need right now is a little help, not to be treated like a child.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Sophia said. “I’ll expect you up by six tomorrow morning to help Hale feed the animals.”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant,” I said flatly.

  “Physical labor will keep your mind occupied a lot better than dreaming will,” Sophia said. She turned lightly and headed back to the kitche
n. “The enchiladas are ready, by the way.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lina said when our eyes met. “I shouldn’t have called your father a fool or an idiot.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I said. “I know what he is. He’s dead wrong about Uriah and everything else.”

  Her eyes narrowed, for some reason. It looked like she wanted to say something. Whatever it was, she kept a tight control on her lips this time. My dad was wrong, right? I raced through what she and I had said for some kind of clue. Her response to my rant poked at my thoughts. The only thing that stood out was when she said my dad had no right to say anything about Uriah or his future. A shiver ran through my body.

  “Lina, do you know something about Uriah? Something about his future, or the strange things he can do?” I asked.

  Panic flashed in her eyes. “No, of course not. How would I know anything about Uriah’s future? And I have no idea what you mean by strange things.”

  “But…” The sudden look of steel resolve in her expression stopped me. She knew something.

  Lina winced as she tried to resettle herself on the couch. Normally so determined to show she was fine, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to distract me with her injury. Her hand touched mine, and when she spoke her voice had a pleading quality to it, one begging me to let myself be distracted. “What does it feel like?” she asked. “The bond, I mean.”

  I hesitated. If she knew something .... Her hands squeezed mine even tighter. The hint of tears shone in the corners of her eyes. I walked away from my dad because I wasn’t strong enough to face him yet. I recognized the same look in Lina. Maybe she would tell me, but not right now. There were too many other things threatening to break her. I could understand the feeling. Sighing, I gave in, for now.

  “It’s feels like I’m being pulled apart, and I have no choice about which direction I’ll go.” I sank down into a hard, wooden chair next to Lina. “I still love Uriah, but if I don’t keep reminding myself, I know I’ll forget. Every time I reach for memories of him, they seem to be a little further away, and that scares me to death.”

  “If you need to talk, I’m here,” Lina said.

  “The food is getting cold,” Sophia said from the kitchen.

  Lina smiled and shook her head. I helped her up from her chair, and slowly we walked to the kitchen table. The aroma of Sophia’s green chile chicken enchiladas brought a smile to both of our faces. After helping Uriah’s mother into her chair, I eagerly found mine.

  “Nice to see you have your appetite back, Claire,” Sophia said. She set a plate of steaming food in front of me.

  Sophia and Lina talked about the ranch, and what was happening around the town as they ate. I paid little attention to their conversation until I heard my dad’s name come up.

  “What did you say about my dad?” I asked.

  “I was just telling Lina about what the Elders decided to do with him,” Sophia said. “My vote was for calling the police, but I’m not a member of the council, so they didn’t take me seriously.” Uriah’s mother nodded her head in agreement. I hadn’t really considered what should happen to my dad. A few hours ago I would have voted for the police as well.

  “What did they decide?” I asked.

  “Your father will be spending a considerable amount of time working in the soup kitchens in Santa Fe, as well as contributing his time to one of the youth programs there. The Elders thought he needed a reminder that the needs of others are often more important than our own,” Sophia said. “They should have done it a long time ago if you ask me.”

  Soup kitchens, youth programs, those certainly were a punishment for my dad. I felt that the Elders had judged him fairly. It almost made me laugh to think of my dad donning an apron and serving the homeless of northeast New Mexico. I honestly hoped it made a difference in his outlook. As far as the youth program, punishment or not, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of my dad mentoring young minds.

  “How long will he be…volunteering?” I asked.

  “Until the Elders decide he has learned his lesson,” Sophia said.

  The smirk on her face said she believed he would be volunteering for the rest of his life. She was probably right. I wasn’t sure my dad would ever change. Mention of the Elders made me think of Quaile. I still wanted to speak with Quaile, but when I had tried calling her again earlier that day, there had been no answer, once again. She was clearly avoiding me. I didn’t know why she was so convinced I had to hold off the bond alone. All I knew was that at the rate I was going, if I didn’t get some help soon, I wasn’t going to make it. The pull to be with Daniel got stronger the longer I tried to resist it. The not so subtle pulse to abandon Uriah ached inside of me every second of the day. Thinking about it made it worse, constricting my chest to the point that I had to stop eating for fear of it all coming back up.

  Fighting with my dad earlier kept Daniel out of my head. Desperate for a reprieve, I spent the rest of the meal acutely focused on my dad’s sentence. He deserved his punishment. It was not only him that was being punished, though. I felt bad for my mom. She was a good mother to me and Cole, doing what she could to make up for her husband’s failings. I hoped that news of what he had done stayed within the Elders, for her sake more than mine, but I doubted it would.

  Sophia reached for my plate, and I was surprised to find it was empty. I didn’t remember starting to eat again. “Thank you,” I said.

  She took the dish from my hand and placed it in the sink. She left my empty glass on the table, so I picked it up and followed her over to the sink. Sophia started running water for dishes. I offered to do it for her, and she almost stepped aside before thinking better of it. She paused and stepped closer to me. “Claire, go talk to Lina. It will help you both, but…”

  I waited, but she didn’t finish her thought right away. “But what?”

  “I think you’re right. Lina knows more than she’s telling you.”

  15: Fighting It

  “Claire, would you help me back to the living room?” Uriah’s mother asked when I turned back to the table.

  I jumped to her side. Instead of directing me back to the rocking chair, Lina headed toward the couch. I wasn’t sure why Sophia insisted on keeping the fire going in the middle of summer. She claimed it would help Lina’s leg heal, but I couldn’t see how. Most likely it was some way of keeping Lina nice and sleepy, so she would rest her leg and not run off to brush the horses when Sophia wasn’t looking. If that was the reason, it didn’t work very well.

  Lina propped herself and her leg up on pillows. I handed her the book she had been reading, but she set it aside. Her hand came up and touched the sleeve of my shirt, well Uriah’s shirt.

  “I remember when Uriah wore this,” she said fondly. “He was so adorable in it.”

  “I hope he doesn’t mind that I borrowed it,” I said.

  “He would love it,” Lina said. “He was twelve years old when he wore this. Notah had been so excited to get him into baseball that he signed him up to play in a city league in Santa Fe. Twice a week they drove down to Santa Fe for practices and on the weekends we all went down for his games. He was very good.”

  “Then why did he stop?” I asked. I knew he had only played the one year in Santa Fe.

  “He never said, but I think he felt bad about how much time it took to make it happen. Uriah was always more concerned with the needs of others than with his own. He still is,” Lina said. “Notah tried to convince him to play the next year, but Uriah said he would rather wait until high school when he could play on the school team.”

  “Well, the school teams were always glad to have him,” I said. Uriah tried out every sport our small high school had to offer at least once, and he had been amazing at every one of them. His favorite would always be baseball, though, because it was his dad’s favorite, too.

  “He is so talented and intelligent, but he never likes to admit it, does he?”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said. Sometimes Uriah’s mo
desty was infuriating, but knowing it was an honest emotion, not just a show, never let my irritation last long. “He never wants to admit how handsome he is either. I don’t understand how he can’t see that. Everybody else does.” Many of my girlfriends growing up had sighed over Uriah, and dreamed about him at night. I still couldn’t figure out how he had come to fall in love with me. I had no special talents beyond making him laugh and hurting him every time we touched. That last one certainly wasn’t a reason to seek me out.

  “I’m so glad he found you, Claire, or I guess I should say you found him if I understand it right. You have been so good for him, pushing him to try new things and open up to new possibilities,” Lina said.

  “Oh, I doubt I’ve done much at all. Uriah is the one who has changed me. He’s so brave and calm no matter what he’s facing. He is so strong,” I said. “If I weren’t too weak to turn my back on the Twin Soul bond, Uriah would be here now.” I was fighting hard not to cry again. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand. The pain helped.

  “What drew you to Uriah?” Lina asked. She was no doubt trying to take my mind to happier places.

  “I liked how Uriah was so kind to everyone. He never teased or made fun of people. He was always willing to help anyone who needed it,” I said. Even though my fear of him controlling me like he did others kept me from ever making the first move growing up, every time I saw him do something kind for someone else my resolve weakened.

  “What else?” Lina asked.

  “When Uriah looks at me, I feel like he sees every part of me, my faults, my talents, everything, and loves me for exactly who I am. I had never felt that before getting to know Uriah,” I said. “Even with Daniel, and the feelings the Twin Soul bond has created, it feels nothing like what I feel towards Uriah. Everything I feel for Daniel, it doesn’t seem real. It feels too perfect. When Daniel looked at me, I felt like he was seeing someone else, someone he thought he knew, or used to know, but not me. Does that make sense?”