The Silver Claw

by Erik Williamson

“Oh, Emmidawn. That look doesn’t suit your pretty face.” She forced a smile, but a disingenuous smile was even less convincing. “Why so troubled?”

  She shrugged and focused on the leaf she was slowly tearing apart in her hands.

  “I was distracted by boiling potatoes last night and never finished the tale of that old Snowy Cougar.” He grinned at her inability to mask her interest. “I surmised as much. I’ll finish on one condition. One to, let’s say, protect you from what I’m about to say; from yourself.”

  Emmie squinted. Protected from herself made no sense. And it all but snatched the choice from her, leaving her feeling trapped and helpless. After all, how could she resist a setup like that? She smashed the leaf and nodded her head cautiously.

  “I wish you only the best, my young friend. Now. . .” He worked it over in his brain, coming back to his story. “The custom and significance of those cougar medallions and necklaces changed, oh. . .”

  He paused and considered Emmie.

  “Well, not many years back. The Bandu, for reasons clouded with intrigue and, truthfully, ones I don’t comprehend, released not a few amulets and necklaces and what-not into their outlying towns and districts. Lay the seed of doubt in someone’s mind, presumably, as to who was a true du-Albin. But the genuine seal of the heir to Chastien’s throne lived on, with but one virtually undetectable key to its authenticity—the white-bejeweled cougar’s front right paw, at the bottom left looking at it, was brilliant silver—the Silver Claw of Chastien’s Army.”

  Emmie’s hand unconsciously went to her pack.

  “I thought as much, young lady. You promised me a condition.”

  Emmie’s body went tense, her hand hovering over her bag.

  “You are not to look at it for a week. Minimum. Don’t go peering for Alixa’s either, eh?” He nodded sagely. “Do you know who you are, Emmidawn?”

  “Maybe.” Her big cheeks grew with a smile.

  “Aye, aye.” The old man looked pleased. “But Emmidawn, do you know who you are?”

  She stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek. Didn’t she just answer that?

  “You, my dear, are not one to have life dictated to you. You decide what you would have that amulet say before you look to it to determine your fate. Because what’s in here,” he pointed at her chest, “is truer than what’s on that cougar. You would not be well-served by feeling the choice were out of your hands.”

  “What if the two don’t match?” Emmie wanted to look. Now. “Aren’t I making a bigger mess if what I want isn’t what I am?”

  “I think it far superior you determine who you are. Not feeling coerced, prone to regret or bitterness. Now, that promise?”

  “Yessir. I promise.” Emmie was not a girl who would break a promise. Even though she had the answer to her and Alixa’s agonizing, right in her bag. “But. . .”

  “Don’t settle for the low bar of how others judge you. You’ve abilities you’ve not yet dreamed of.”

  Emmie’s face involuntarily screwed up into a frustrated confusion.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly as Renn drew closer. “The waiting will frustrate you, but I desire the best for you, my fisher-friend.”

  Alixa, intent on avoiding the old man, strode briskly towards Emmie and Renn.

  “You two, feel free to go on a bit.” The hermit waved them forward, then moved to block Alixa’s passage through his garden gate.

  Alixa halted impatiently and simmered as he leisurely collected his thoughts and waited for the other two to clear earshot.

  “You are a tough-minded, talented young woman. You’ve done very well for yourself.”

  Alixa’s brow furrowed. Was this a compliment? Was she supposed to thank him? She opted to do neither.

  “You’ve spent these last many years amongst a rough and difficult lot, no?” Her frown grew deeper. “Don’t misunderstand. There are many good folk in the basins; honest, hard-working men and women. I know. Yet they are still tough characters all. Yourself included.”

  He leaned in so close Alixa whiffed his old man smell much too far inside her rather restricted personal space.

  “I say there’s much more to you. Think not, do you? I see that in your angry eyes.” He chuckled, then gestured to Renn and Emmie. “These two, so young and innocent, their hopes not yet extinguished. There is much you can learn from them.”

  Alixa glanced at them, sitting on logs, facing away from each other. She remained silent.

  “They are looking to you.” He tapped her on the shoulder. Alixa flinched. “This is a momentous opportunity—to give and to gain. To find Alixa.”

  I know who I am.

  “Maybe you think you know who Alixa is,” he continued, as if reading her mind. “I say she’s still down there.” He pointed at her chest. “The little girl with hopes and dreams, hiding underneath years of harsh survival.” He grasped her hand, shook her noodle-limp grip firmly. “Seize this opportunity. You may not get another.”

  His eyes twinkled with an odd mix of sorrow and excitement. Then he tottered back down the path.

  “Come on.” Alixa stalked past Renn and Emmie.

  “What’d he want, Lixa?” Emmie asked as she hurried to catch up.

  “Philosophical mumbo-jumbo.” She dismissed the inquisitive Emmie. Alixa surged forward even faster than normal, trying to outdistance the hermit’s old-man aroma and attempts at wisdom.

  For two days, they saw nothing but rain. The posh beds and soft chairs of the hermitage became a dissatisfying memory. Progress was dirty and difficult, and their dreary attitudes were a spot-on match. Getting so much as a fire started was a major undertaking.

  Alixa had just done so that evening, under an awning of pines, and was feeling rather pleased with herself. That ended abruptly when Emmie, carrying dinner supplies, skidded on the wet pine needles covering the ground. Everything in her arms splattered in the mud, sloshing onto the fire. Emmie picked herself up gingerly, looking aghast at the now-fizzling campfire.

  “I worked hard for that!” Alixa yelled. “What were you thinking?”

  “It was an accident.” Emmie rubbed her sore bottom.

  “Doesn’t change this.” Alixa kicked at the remains of her fire.

  “I. . . I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe you are the accident, Sheep.”

  “She didn’t mean to, Alixa.” Renn began picking up their spilled dinner. “We’ll get more wood.”

  “Look around, Longar, everything is soaked clean through. We’re looking at a long, cold night.” She slapped Emmie’s shoulder. “Thanks, Sheep. Brilliant.”

  “I’ll find more.” Emmie hid her face, began scampering away. “I won’t come back until I do.”

  “Emmie, wait!”

  “Leave me alone, Renn!” She stomped her foot, splaying more mud all around. “I am capable of doing things myself! I’m not helpless!”

  Renn winced as her cloak swished out of sight through the brambles. Alixa stooped down, cursing as she picked about for salvageable pieces of firewood. Renn paused briefly, considering his two companions’ moods. Then, mind made up, he advanced on the lean, muscular woman.

  “Why do you talk to her like that?”

  Alixa rose to meet his challenge, welcoming it frankly. Renn and Alixa were of similar height and he was actually heavier, but there was no question who was more intimidating—and dangerous. Renn got up in her face anyway.

  “You have any idea how hurtful you are?”

  “I don’t. And I don’t care.”

  “You’re so insulting. She doesn’t need that.”

  “Maybe she does.” Alixa stepped forward, bumping Renn’s chest. “I’m sick of you and the Sheep’s dumb petty games. Maybe a good insult will knock some sense into her.”

  Renn’s body flexed as though to strike. Alixa’s muscles tensed, eager for conflict. A good fight had always proven a soothing tonic for her frustrations. Instead, Renn backed away a step, hands up.

  “I don’t want to f
ight. I know you could kill me. Hey, I get your life’s been rough. Maybe that could make you more, I don’t know, sympathetic? Emmie’s full of sympathy for you.”

  “I don’t want her pity.”

  “Well, how about friendship? She thinks the world of you. Gives you the benefit of the doubt, no matter what.” Renn started backing away. “Try talking to her, instead of pushing her around.”

  Renn started off to find Emmie. He stopped short, though, of leaving their camp area, remembering her stinging parting words. She didn’t want his help. Or seemingly, his friendship. Regardless, he needed to go somewhere. At the edge of the clearing Renn turned back to Alixa.

  “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, so I’ll try not to judge. But if you ever wanted to tell me, I’d listen. She would, too. She’d want to know every detail and feel every emotion for you. At least. . . the Emmie I thought I knew would, I guess.”

  Alixa scowled as Renn wandered away. She didn’t antagonize Renn or Emmie sheerly out of spite. Teasing the two naïve kids was mostly for fun. And to keep them at arm’s length; people were too dangerous. So it was a curious and unfamiliar realization that she genuinely liked both of them. She just didn’t care to—or know how to—show it. Alixa kicked the soggy embers of her fire and walked out the other side of the clearing. Renn had headed towards the stream in the forest, apparently thinking Emmie would be looking for kindling there. Alixa made for the only ridge near them, certain of what she’d find.

  Emmie crouched down on her haunches, snaggly hair hanging in her face. Surrounded by downed branches, she was futilely peeling off bark, hoping to peel deep enough to find something dry. With a miserable groan, she chucked another soggy stick down the side of the hill. Alixa, still weighing her approach, levelled a hard stare at the small figure. Emmie cradled her head in her hands, then returned to stripping bark, oblivious to Alixa’s presence.

  “Thought I’d find you here.”

  Emmie flinched, dropping her handful of sticks and whirling around. Her bedraggled hair swished back, revealing a splotchy red face and cheeks streaked with mud. Seeing it was Alixa, Emmie dropped her head, hiding herself under a mess of hair.

  “You were right about the wood. I’m sorry about. . . everything, I guess.”

  “Your boyfriend doesn’t like the way I talk to you. Says I’m hurtful and insulting.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Emmie responded dully.

  “Topic for another time.” Alixa waved her off. Projecting no empathy whatsoever, she asked. “Is he right? Do I hurt your feelings?”

  Emmie pushed her hair out of her face and grimaced. “I’m plenty used to being insulted. But from you. . .” Emmie dropped her eyes. “I kinda hoped you’d understand. Maybe we could even. . . be friends.” Emmie’s splotchy face flushed at the admission. She puffed her cheeks. “If this is just how you talk to people, no real harm meant? Then sure, fine.” Emmie voice cracked. “But if you believe the things you say to me, that I’m just a dumb sheep? That hurts.”

  Emmie shrugged back tears. Let her hair fall to hide her face again. Alixa leaned on a boulder, arms crossed, watching her wipe at her eyes.

  “You’re not a dumb sheep,” Alixa said softly. She looked skyward, trying to find words. “I’ve never had much use for being nice. But Emmidawn. . . I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

  Emmie’s mouth hung open and she stared, aghast. “I’ve never once heard you actually say my name.”

  “Hey, no mush. I don’t do mushy. You got Renn for that.” But Alixa was taken aback by the warmth she felt, apologizing. “I am sorry, though. I’ll try to do better. Okay, Emmidawn?”

  “You don’t have to say my name. Call me anything you like, so long as I know it’s all in fun.” Emmie’s spreading smile further highlighted the muddy tear streaks across her face. “Okay, mostly in fun. Wouldn’t want you going all soft and mushy or anything.”

  Emmie stuck her tongue out, and with a relieved laugh turned back to peeling her wood. Alixa watched, face still impassive but feeling surprisingly lighter. She got down on her hands and knees, grabbed a couple twisted branches.

  “Want to see how to find the dry stuff?” Alixa held the branches up, held Emmie’s eyes, and gave the attentive girl a hard-learned wilderness survival lesson. In time, working together, they managed to collect enough dry kindling for a meager fire.

  “Did Renn really get in your face and challenge you?” Emmie asked as Alixa blew on the sparks of their new fire.

  “Oh yes,” Alixa responded with an air of feigned indignation. “Told me I’d better start treating you better or else. . . I don’t know else what. He never quite got around to threatening me. Too afraid I’d kill him.”

  “But you didn’t,” Emmie said with a smile.

  “C’mon, I’m not a monster. I got no beef with the boy. Kid’s got a lot to him. He’s awfully loyal to you and has a lot of nerve standing up to me. Maybe not a lot of smarts, but he’s got backbone.” Alixa smirked. “That boyfriend of yours.”

  “He is not my boyfriend.” Emmie grimaced. Frustration was one thing, but Emmie tasted a nasty edge to her voice she didn’t care for.

  “You keep telling yourself that, Sheep.”

  Two-and-a-half hours later, Alixa and Emmie shared a lukewarm meal, a little heat from their tiny fire, and the most enjoyable time they’d spent together. Alixa was far from warm and bubbly—that would not be Alixa at all—but she was talkative, pleasant, interested. But Emmie longed for Renn to return. Warm up by the fire, eat some dinner, maybe be offered an apology. He’d been out in the cold rain far too long.

  “You think he’ll come back?” Emmie asked, staring off into the wet woods.

  “Of course.”

  “It’s getting dark. What if he left?”

  “He’s not going anywhere.” Alixa dismissed her with a hard laugh.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been pretty mean.”

  Alixa studied Emmie’s dark, sunken eyes. Their little trio direly needed Emmie’s cheerfulness to offset her and Renn’s less sunny dispositions. Her spiraling depression would end in no good for any of them. Besides, this Emmie wasn’t even much fun to pick on.

  “Want some advice?”

  Emmie’s eyebrows shot up. Alixa? Offering advice? Did Emmie want the sort of advice Alixa might give?

  “He needs you to invite him back.” Alixa gave it anyway. “On his own, he may not come back until morning.”

  Emmie shifted uncomfortably.

  “Look, I don’t know what went down between you two, but somebody has to step up. You know it should be you.” Emmie didn’t respond, so Alixa continued, gaining conviction as she spoke. “Stuck with two flirty teenagers? That was nauseating. I’m serious: upchuck-inducing nauseating. But these last few weeks? Far worse than suffering through two twitterpated kids. There’s three of us, that’s it, and we could be out here a long time. If you can’t get back to being civil, this will just keep getting uglier. Deal with whatever this is and get back to where you were. Feel free to stop short of being annoying flirts, but you need—need—to get back to being friends.”

  “How will I find him, even if I wanted to?” Emmie pulled at her wet hair.

  “He’s upstream, about a quarter-mile.” Alixa gestured towards the stream, kept poking the fire with a stick. “Probably sitting on the same black rock he was last time I checked. With what I know of Renn, I doubt he’s even moved.”

  “You’ve known where he’s been all this time?”

  “What, did you think I was going to let one of you wander off without me knowing where? Somebody needs to be responsible for the two of you, it seems.”

  “Okay, I’ll go.” Emmie picked herself up, wiping off her grimy hands. “Thanks for the advice, Lix. And for looking out for us.”

  Alixa passed over the compliment, more attentive to trying to preserve the life of their meager fire. Emmie trudged towards the stream. Alixa shook her head with a wry smile.

  “Go get yo
ur boyfriend, Sheep.”

  XLI - Lamberden Pass

  Slumped atop a big boulder, Renn was exactly as Alixa had said. Emmie lingered behind a fir tree, watching him—so still, drenched, and dejected, he could’ve passed for a big mossy bump. It made Emmie’s heart hurt to know she did this to him. Alixa was right. She needed to bridge the chasm she’d opened between them. She simply didn’t know how. But she missed their easy banter, sharing the experiences of this wild trip, and knowing she always had a loyal friend and defender. He still defended her, but she knew she didn’t deserve it. Emmie steeled herself. She would be as honest as possible. She couldn’t promise anything even if she wanted to (and though this fact lay obscured under her myriad of fears, she very much wanted to) but she would be honest.

  Renn, for his part, was too soaked in the chilled rain to keep pounding away with his angst over what he possibly could’ve done to alienate Emmie. He couldn’t face either of them that night. But would he really rather sit drenched and alone than try to make conversation and/or peace with Emmie and/or Alixa? It was a tough call. So he made none at all, just sat miserably in the rain.

  “Got room on your comfy rock?” Emmie’s unexpected appearance made him startle. “A little spot for a soaked, scrawny girl?”

  With a hurt, distrustful glance, he shifted to make room, opening up the dry patch where’d he been sitting for hours. As always, her was giving her the best option available. That made her feel even worse.

  “This sucks.” Emmie gingerly slid onto the rock.

  “Hmm.”

  “Nothing but a grunt for me? I miss you, Renn.”

  “Wasn’t me who decided to leave this friendship.” He glared across the stream, not even looking at her. “So who’s missing, Emmidawn? If it’s not me, care to take a stab at who left?”

  She was stung by his biting reply. But she couldn’t blame him. She pushed her sloppy hair out of her face. “I know it’s my fault. Doesn’t mean I. . .” She closed her eyes. “I miss you. I wish we could go back but. . .” she coughed and trailed off.

  Renn’s face remained a mask. He watched her tug her wet hair down into a knot and then shake it back off her head.