“What’s up?” Corbiern asked.
“Girl thing, you know?” Alixa raised her eyebrows, backing down the trail past a stand of birch trees.
Corbiern rubbed his chin, brow furrowed as Alixa crouched so that Emmie was all but hidden from anyone’s view.
“You alright?”
“Yelling ‘the king’ like a bloody fool reminded me. I’d sort of forgotten about you and me and who we might. . . you know.” Emmie ‘s cloudy stare was fixed on the velvet pouch she was turning over in her hands. “Before we left, Ebner said. . . um. . .” Emmie stammered as Alixa visibly tensed. “He said most of these talismans and swords and stuff are fakes, to mask the true heir’s identity. There’s a secret mark that reveals the one. I wasn’t to look or tell you for—”
“And it’s you?” Alixa plowed over Emmie’s explanation.
“I haven’t looked.”
“Haven’t looked? You kidding, Sheep?” Alixa would’ve checked, immediately. She thought she’d earned Emmie’s trust, yet Emmie hadn’t even told her. Her voice turned cold. “Does Rennwinn know?”
“No! I promised!” Emmie’s voice cracked, hurt by the insinuation. “I couldn’t break my word.”
Alixa grunted and rubbed her forehead. Emmie’s simple honesty was a reminder that the old man had a different message for Alixa, a different identity to discover. And a woman who berated a frightened girl was no longer who she cared to be.
“He told me to know what I want before being forced by what I found, like that’d even make a difference!” Emmie whispered miserably. “Week’s up, but ever since the prairie, I’ve kind of forgotten. I’m out of time now.”
Alixa tugged at the neck of her tunic, then gently pulled Emmie up.
“Course you forgot. No harm done. Crisis has a way of doing that.” Alixa patted (pounded, Emmie felt) Emmie’s shoulder. “You ready to look? Know what you want?”
“Maybe.” Emmie turned her big grey eyes into Alixa’s. “But, Lix, I’m scared.”
“Well, we’ve still got days, out here in the woods.” Alixa glanced towards the others then nodded to Emmie. “You think about it. I will too. In the next few days, we’ll look together.”
“Thanks, Lix. I needed that.”
“We wait until Renn knows, too, and the three of us can talk.”
Emmie nodded her agreement, soothed by ‘the three of us’ and the growing sense they were a team.
That evening, their paltry deer trail intersected with what looked like it had once been a well-worn path through the woods. Alixa assigned Polidan and Omlos clean-up duties, instructed Emmie to take Renn on a leg-stretching walk, then sought out Corbiern, alone.
“Here’s our road, such as it is.” Corbiern gestured east along the trail, then paused. “Where are you headed?”
“Where are you headed?” Alixa replied mildly.
“Emmie won’t tell me either. I suspect she’s following your lead?”
Alixa accommodated him with a flat smile.
“Have I proved that untrustworthy?”
“You’ve given me no reason to distrust you, but. . .” Alixa twirled a dagger in her hand. “Where you headed?”
Corbiern didn’t take the bait. “From the vagaries she shared, I reckon you’re going wherever her father found her. Yours must be quite the story.”
Alixa glanced at Emmie helping Renn along the uneven path. He was making progress, but faced a slow, uphill battle.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. How’s that sound, Alixa?”
Alixa raised her eyebrows, gave a slight but smug nod.
“You. . .” Corbiern shook his head. “I suppose you’re looking out for her best interests. I can hardly begrudge you that.”
Alixa stood with arms folded, smiling noncommittally at him.
“Okay, then—as a gesture of trust.” Corbiern held his hand out. “We’re returning to Lake Winnepaca. Our teacher lives on the northeast shore. He’s a great man. Wise in the power of the lake. The good. The bad. All of it.”
Corbiern seemed sincere. Alixa made a snap judgment. If their guru-man was knowledgeable about the lake, he might be what Emmie needed. But first. . . “Are we truly even? I detest being indebted to another person.”
“Yes.” Corbiern became interested in a birch branch, crinkling a leaf between his fingers.
“I won’t have you trying to collect later.” She pushed the branch away, commanding his full attention. “Last time: you exacting payment, or no?”
Corbiern’s piercing eyes locked with Alixa’s. She almost had to look away, and Alixa was never one to back down. Corbiern wiped a hand over his mouth and spoke lowly.
“My sister was bitten by a pit viper. With antidote in hand, the doctor simply walked away when he found we couldn’t pay his fee. My father tried to bargain. Promised payment, with interest. Promised anything. The man didn’t care. She was dead by morning. She was seven.”
“I. . . I’m sorry.”
“I’m training to be a healer. After what happened to. . .” Corbiern’s eyes glistened, with grief and fury. He put his hands in the air. “I don’t want your sword. Your necklace. Anything.”
They considered one another in silence.
“Fair enough. We’re also headed to the lake. And, yes, it regards Emmie’s dad and where he found her. Beyond that?” Alixa shrugged.
“Thank you. Since we’re headed the same way, I’m sure we can be of further service.”
“How far is it?”
“Lake’s east along this trail, maybe three days out. Well, with you all in tow. . .” He gestured to Emmie assisting Renn. “It’ll be much longer.”
“You go ahead, Corbiern. Point us in the right direction. We’ll follow.”
“We’re in no hurry.”
“We can manage.”
“Really, Alixa. I intended to keep looking after Renn. After all of you.”
Alixa bristled at the insinuation she needed looking after. But she was trying to make nice, so she did her best to keep her bristling to herself.
“Thank you,” Alixa said through gritted teeth. “What would be most helpful is if you’d get your mystic-guy. He may be able to answer some of Emmie’s questions. It’ll take us much too long to get to the northeast side. If he’d accompany you to the west side, though? I’d be grateful if you went on ahead.”
Corbiern tried to work over Alixa’s reasoning. She didn’t wait for him to decide.
“I think—not think—I know. I know he’ll want to hear Emmie’s story, if you’d fetch him.” Alixa gripped his arm. “This is important, Corbiern. Would you do this for me—for us?”
“If you believe it’s that important . . .” Corbiern took nearly a minute to come to a decision. “You take care of my patient, okay?”
When Emmie and Renn returned from their hobbling walk, they were perplexed to find Corbiern’s men prepped to leave. Guessing Alixa had engineered the split, they stayed quiet. The two groups parted with good feelings, promising to see each other soon. Although, realistically, Alixa, Renn, and Emmie weren’t covering that distance in less than a week.
“So, Alixa,” Renn said. “You presumably have a plan.”
“Aw, she misses us, Renn, that’s what,” Emmie responded with a smirk. “Lixy’s nothing but a gooey ol’ romantic. Always knew it.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Alixa gestured at Emmie with her chin. “You know why.”
“I know, I know.” Emmie’s laugh was a little too high-pitched. “We need to talk about our happy little white lynxie-cats.”
“Cougars, Sheep. Snowy Cougars—the symbol of our people. Kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Emmie waved her off, then pattered across the clearing to her pack.
“We need this.” Alixa leaned back against a tree. “Not that I don’t trust Corbiern but—”
“Wait.” Emmie’s head shot up. “You trust somebody?”
“Shut it, Sheep.” Alixa restrained a smile. “
We need space to talk freely. Just us.”
Seeing an unexpected affection in Alixa’s eyes, Renn was too touched to respond.
“Well, then. . .” Emmie twittered nervously, wiping her forehead.
“You’re sweating like a goat at shearing,” Renn observed. “What‘s gotten into you?”
“Well, uh, I know something.” Emmie let out another high-pitched giggle. “Ebner told me how to know who the. . . well, who the true princess-girl is.”
“And it’s you?”
“Renn! He made me promise not to look! Why do you guys not get that? And promise not to tell either of you, for a solid week. I was to decide what I wanted my amulet to say. Said that was important.” She looked at them, back and forth. “I promised.”
“Nobody’s blaming you.” Renn glanced at Alixa’s sour expression. “Well, I’m not.”
“Nobody’s blaming you,” Alixa mumbled.
“Okay, Em. So what is it?”
Emmie found she was too jittery to continue. Now that the moment was upon her, her mind grasped for any excuse to keep babbling.
“Spit it out, Princess Emmie!” Alixa prodded. “We’ve waited long enough.”
“Okay! He said, ah, the snowy cougar—” she empathized in Alixa’s direction “—of Chastien’s heir has a silver claw on its right paw. Only the One has silver—that’s the secret.”
Alixa nodded.
“If one of us has that silver claw?” Emmie swallowed. “We got us a Princess Emmie or Queen Alixa. Uh, shall we look?”
“I guess,” Renn murmured.
“So, Sheep.” Alixa raised her sword. “You decide what you want yours to say?”
“Yes, Alixa.” Emmie blushed—although, really. . . like her deciding had any bearing on the outcome.
They crowded around Alixa’s upraised sword, studying the ornate cougar at the hilt. No silver claw. Alixa betrayed no emotion. Her eyes scanned up her blade to a clawed paw etched at the very tip.
“Nope.” Alixa fingered the neck of her tunic. “Princess Emmie, you’re up.”
Emmie pulled out her pouch and dropped the amulet, wrapped in a small handkerchief, into her hand. She shot both a crazed grin, slowly unwrapped the amulet and then without looking, hurriedly re-wrapped it. She took a long deep breath. Emmie unwrapped it again, held it aloft for the others to see, her left thumb still covering the cougar’s paw. With an anxious squeak, Emmie slid her thumb away. Three sets of eyes squinted at the dazzling snowy cougar.
All white. No silver claw.
“Huh. . .” Emmie stammered in confusion. “I, I guess it’s not me either.”
LIII - The Northern Tablelands - 13 Years Prior
Wouldn’t have picked this wasteland for my last view of the world. The sardonic thought almost made Kaiteen, dazed and dying, giggle.
Well, it’s true.
She’d never cared for the Tablelands—drab jagged rock walls everywhere, dusty plateaus devoid of vegetation, the sun beating down mercilessly even on chilly days. The petite young woman staggered into the stone behind her. Oh, for one last whiff of her lush Durvishhelm forest or glance of her beloved rock eagle aeries and their swirling palette of colors... or to teach the secrets and hints of the sandy dunes to her daughter.
My daughter. . .
Kaiteen lifted her head. Strands of honey-gold hair, pulled loose from the ragged braid thrown over her shoulder, stung the knife gash under her ear. She blinked, searching the bodies strewn across the plateau before her.
That morning, she’d been shocked awake by alarm bells ringing in the streets of Kaisson. But her morning stupor was uncharacteristically short-lived. Kaiteen had drilled the escape plan into her muscle memory. Her husband scooped up their young daughter and, along with their neighbors, bolted for Shepherd’s Pass. Yet outside the pass, they were met by a platoon of soldiers who shouldn’t have known to be there. Panicked, they’d seized a wagon, fought their way out, and fled deep into the labyrinth. Only to be tracked and slaughtered like animals.
Caught by their pursuers in a tight canyon, the wagon overturned. Kaiteen spilled over the side and into a narrow ravine. As she skidded down, she heard the exhortations to run. She was nimble and in her element on these rocks. It would be a rough go for the soldiers, and they would have to fight their way through the others first. But she also could hear her frightened daughter calling for her. Kaiteen rejected the easy escape, scaling back up the ravine to an all-but-certain death.
Now, the last one of their group standing, she could barely force her mind to focus on the five figures striding towards her. To her left, her husband’s body lay crumpled on the ground, Aegorite dead scattered around him, like so many others strewn about the plain. So many, Kaiteen mourned, and the children—their little bodies everywhere. But. . . no tiny golden-haired girl.
My daughter! Where is my daughter?
Then she heard the shrill cry she’d know anywhere. Her daughter lay helplessly on the ground behind the approaching soldiers, her four little limbs lashed together. With her long blonde hair, big grey eyes, and petite frame, she was practically the mirror image of her mom.
“Ma?” Tears streamed down her round cheeks. “Ma!”
Kaiteen struggled to rise. The tail shaft of a crossbow dart protruded from her numb right thigh. She could feel blood draining from the left side of her abdomen, somewhere within an internal organ had been pierced. She tried to train her vison on the haughty woman standing before her.
“Ma!” her daughter screamed all the while, confused and terrified.
Masking her rage and her movements, Kaiteen groaned and slowly crossed her arms. Her fingers worked along the inside edges of her deerskin jacket. From obscured sheaths she grasped two deadly razor-sharp throwing stars—a signature weapon of the Bandu, and one that few wielded more skillfully than Kaiteen. Clenching her teeth in a last surge of energy, her arms flung uncrossed. With a backhanded flick of her wrists, the stars whizzed towards the front two soldiers. Both dropped as the blades buried themselves deep under their rib cages.
Kaiteen’s right arm swung for her dagger, sheathed on the back of her left thigh. But she was rocked back; the dull crunches of two more crossbow darts sinking into her flesh; one in her stomach, another just below her shoulder blade. The final two remaining soldiers—one surly and dark, the other small with a wispy mustache—stood with crossbows levelled and discharged.
“Foolish wretch, still fighting?” The tall, square-jawed woman approached her.
“Never let you take her.” Blood spit out of Kaiteen’s mouth and ran down her chin; her words no more than an empty threat.
All the while, her little girl’s cries filled her ears. Kaiteen tried to push herself upright.
“Behold your princess one last time, filth.” The woman pointed at Kaiteen’s struggling daughter. “You’ve the honor of being the last Bandu to ever lay eyes on one of Chastien’s heirs.”
They think my daughter is the princess? Kaiteen’s fading mind struggled to process, but her lips spread into a feral grin. They don’t know. They don’t have her!
Kaiteen’s head lolled back and her eyes fluttered shut. All was light and peace.
No. Up!
Kaiteen forced her eyes open to see the darkness in front of her. She wanted to call curses down on the haughty woman. Wrench her daughter from the leering man who’d picked her up. But her strength was gone. She fought back with the only thing she had left: her dignity. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her lose heart.
Spitting more blood, Kaiteen gasped, “you’ll never defeat us.”
“Stupid girl!” the woman barked. “Die, knowing your monarchy and last hope will be wiped out when I drown this miserable brat.”
Kaiteen’s head fell back again, eyelids drooping shut. Again, light and peace. But this time a voice—neither young nor old, male nor female—filled her consciousness.
‘Rest, Kaiteen, knowing your pain is at an end, and with the surety your daughter
will live. You have not fought in vain.’
Kaiteen forced her eyes open once more, reached futilely her daughter. She opened her mouth but this time only blood came. Her eyes drained to a colorless vacant stare. Kaiteen’s dead body slid down the rock wall to the ground.
“What was that rambling, General?” the weaselly-looking soldier asked. “You think this ain’t the princess?”
“Kelebis, you fool. We’ve all the signs the traitor said to look for. It all points to this blasted wretch.” Lomuir poked the toddler squirming in Kelebis’s arms, then turned away from Kaiteen with a sniff. “Nothing but the pathetic last words of a stupid, weak woman. Come. To the sacrifice. Exactly as we were directed.”
The two men trailed after her with the tiny girl howling in despair. After barely 22 years of life, Kaiteen’s body was left to rot in the mountains. Her last glimpse of life, seeing everything she held dear stolen from her.
Yet a more critical appraisal would reveal a young woman—even in death—full of determination and a furious love that belied her slight build and gentle features. Kaiteen’s eyes, mercifully, were closed, but her lips betrayed a subtle and defiant smile, and her right hand was closed in a fist, two knuckles jutted out like claws—the symbol of Chastien’s people. It was not the countenance of a defeated woman robbed of life and all she held dear, but of a woman who’d been given a glimpse of a powerful secret nobody else had been let in on.
LIV - The Western Winnepaccan Woods
“Huh.” Emmie turned her watery eyes to her friends. “No silver claw. I guess, well. . . no Princess Emmie?”
She considered the amulet long and hard, then carefully wrapped it back up. Alixa’s face twisted into a frown. Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. She looked from Emmie to Renn, then back to Emmie, with stormy, tumultuous eyes.
“I’ll give you privacy.” Alixa rose gracefully. “So you can talk.”
“No, Lix. I want to talk with both of you.”
“I’ll be back.” She strode into the woods; cool, calm, impassive. “Give me a minute.”
Alixa disappeared into the forest, fingering her sword hilt. Renn and Emmie watched her go, surprised to be alone together. For the first time in what seemed like ages.
The Silver Claw Page 33