The Silver Claw

by Erik Williamson

  “I don’t—”

  “You gave me back my children, Alixa.” Jes’s voice broke. She covered her mouth, then leaned in and kissed Alixa’s black and blue forehead. “How could I feel anything but love for you?”

  Alixa blinked her eyes and frowned. Maybe she could place the face.

  “Renn’s mom, yeah?” Alixa licked her parched lips. “You have his eyes.”

  “Yes. And, oh, Alixa, you have impossibly beautiful eyes.” Renn’s mom wouldn’t stop beaming at her. She ran the warm washcloth over Alixa’s face, who couldn’t get enough of the relief that brought. “I’m sure people tell you that all the time.”

  No, people didn’t tell her that. Ever. At least Alixa didn’t think so. Her memory was so fuzzy. But this woman had soothed her fear and made her feel loved, and Alixa found she couldn’t get enough of that either. She strained to move anything beyond her head and neck, but no. It was if the rest of her simply wasn’t even there. Her face felt raw and her hair gummy. If Jes didn’t keep wiping her with the warm cloth, she quickly became cold and clammy. Alixa felt totally helpless. She was totally helpless.

  Jes just kept beaming at her.

  She didn’t know Alixa at all. Not yet, maybe, but she would. Because she would never stop feeling waves of gushing gratitude towards this young woman. Never forget what greeted her as she surged over that canyon ridge, heart beating wildly. She’d braced herself for a grim scene, but seeing the canyon filled with soldiers trapping Renn and Emmie huddled into a corner, was devastating. Yet the biggest surprise for Jes was the tall, lean white-blonde woman in front of them. Feet spread wide, sword thrust out, standing guard between Jes’s kids and those who threatened them. Their situation looked hopeless. Nonetheless, this unknown, unexpected third person looked poised to absorb an assault before it could touch them. That had been the greatest miracle of all.

  “Renn and Emmie?” Alixa’s voice grated through her windpipe. “They okay?”

  “They’re out walking. Both are seriously wounded, but they’ll recover in time. Would you like me to find them?”

  “Yes, please,” Alixa could hardly say it fast enough. Jes stood to go, and Alixa was suddenly gripped with fear. She attempted to reach out and seize Jes by the cloak, but she remained completely still, not one muscle in her body obeying. One fearful tear ran down her cheek. “Don’t leave me alone. Please? I can’t. . . I can’t move. Anything.”

  Alixa again began gulping for air, seemingly unable to take enough in. She was helpless. She hated being so helpless.

  “I know, dear.” Jes gently tilted her head to help her breathe. “It’ll take time—that’s what the old Paccan said. He believes you’ll recover fully. Fully, Alixa. It’s going to be months, though, probably many months.”

  “Months?” Where would she go? How could she live?

  It was as though Jes read her thoughts. She sat back down and dipped the washcloth in the steaming water. Tucked it snugly around Alixa’s neck, holding her head in place so she could breathe.

  “Renn said you may want to go north into the peninsula or possibly back to the basins with Baerdron.” Jes wiped another tear off Alixa’s cheek. “Emmie’s having none of that. She smacks him on the shoulder, hard—makes sure it’s his bad one—if he says anything of the sort.”

  Alixa let out a squeaky, rasping laugh.

  “Emmie wants to bring you home. Live with her and Brie, where we can help you. When’s the last time you had a real home, a place to be safe? Surrounded by people who love you, who’ll take care of you?” Jes smoothed Alixa’s sticky hair back again. “That’s what Emmie wants. I’d like that too, honey. At least until you’ve recovered.”

  “I don’t. . . I don’t know what to think. I hate to be—”

  “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.” Jes placed two fingers on Alixa’s lips. “I can never repay you for all you’ve done. Every bit of care we could give you is well-earned. And, Alixa, a little rest is more than well-deserved.”

  Live in Longarvale? Dependent on people she didn’t know? Even people she did know? Alixa didn’t know how she could even consider that. She also didn’t know how she could possibly survive without it.

  “Oh, there’s Brie! She’s so excited to meet you. I’ll get her, then I can find Renn and Emmie and not leave you alone.” Jes kissed her forehead again. “Brie will be here in a few seconds, and I’ll be right back. Right back, Alixa.”

  Alixa couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed. Probably as a small child. Probably wouldn’t have let this exuberant little woman kiss her now—twice even—except she couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Oh my, Alixa thought, what kind of over-emotional things would Emmie do, knowing Alixa could do nothing to stop her? Along with the cringe, though, Alixa realized how eager she was to see the silly Sheep. Alixa broke into a smile so wide it hurt her stiffening face.

  Then, right there, was another small woman, dark hair and dark eyes and a serene smile, sliding onto the little stump that had been chopped into a stoop right next to Alixa’s makeshift bed. Alixa would’ve been mortified if she knew that every minute for the last week somebody had been at that stump. Most often Jes or Brie, or Corbiern or Baerdron. Renn, when he didn’t feel too awkward or pained, and Emmie any time she wasn’t too weak to sit, and could con them into letting her take a turn. Arranging blankets to keep her warm, brushing her icy skin with a hot wet cloth, feeding her small sips of steaming broth, just talking to her (or in Emmie’s case, singing) and keeping her unresponsive body company.

  “You’re the famous Brie?” Alixa’s voice strained. “The way Renn and Emmie talk about you, I was half-expecting an archon with a halo.”

  “I could say the same to you,” Brie responded, settling down on the stump. “For one destined to become a legend, you look so human and friendly; someone I could sit with for hours over a cup of coffee.”

  Friendly? Alixa doubted she’d ever been deemed friendly. Be that as it was, legend was the word Alixa reacted to.

  “Pfft, legend,” Alixa scoffed. But she couldn’t help but think of Chastien’s rhetorical question. Do you think I was really the goddess-like folk hero ‘history’ has made me out to be? “Seriously? I can’t even move my arms. Couldn’t stop Renn’s mom from kissing me. All gooey sentimental; more like Emmie than Renn.”

  “Then do I get to show my appreciation as well?” Brie smiled slyly at her. Alixa was afraid she would be battered with affection again. “No worries, Alixa. I could. I’d love to, in fact, but I’ll grant you your space. Those arms will be moving in time. See, I was told in the basin you could snap any man in half if you felt like it. So I’ll respect your wishes. You give me permission, though, and you’ll see some affection.”

  Great, Alixa grumbled. “Why can’t I move—anything?”

  Brie weighed her response. Alixa looked so weak, so frightened and fragile, lying immobile. Brie knew Alixa was hating everything about this.

  “You’re lucky to be alive. You destroyed a possibly immortal being. Broke a 300-year old curse on our land. That’ll take its toll on a girl.” Brie let that sit with Alixa for a few beats as she ran the washcloth over her again. “Setticus believes you will recover. And, Alixa, you won’t have to do it alone.”

  “That’s a lot to take in. I don’t understand any of it.”

  “The last few months have bombarded you with a barrage of ‘a lot to take in’ truths, haven’t they? Try not to let it overwhelm you. I know, easier said than done.” Brie fed her a spoonful of hot broth. Alixa savored each sip, yet it made her feel as pitiful and vulnerable as a newborn robin. “You need time and space. Take a step back. Parse out facts from fear, and free yourself to go forward with confidence.”

  “You know who I am?”

  Brie considered her for a few moments. Dark, hollow eye sockets. Cracked, parched lips. Weak, helpless, and afraid. Yet still a strikingly strong and beautiful woman and, of course, the rightful Bandu queen. Brie knew that was an extra weight Alix
a did not need right now.

  “Here’s who I know you to be: a remarkable young woman who has saved the lives of two of those dearest to me. You are incredibly gifted and incredibly able.” Brie paused and brushed Alixa’s hair back. “I see a woman of astounding character and depth. That, Alixa, is who you are. Anything else is but what you do with who you are.”

  Alixa stared at the tent ceiling. She wasn’t sure she was the person Brie thought she was, but at least Brie’s answer was one she could live with.

  “Let me add this. The three of you individually, but so much more powerfully together, have the potential to remake our world. You already have—the process is begun—but there is so much more you can do.”

  “You could’ve skipped that.”

  Alixa could feel cold sweat beading on her face. Watched out of the corner of her eye as Brie wrung out a cloth to wash Alixa again.

  “There’s little you can do now about whatever is next. I’m sorry. Try to let it go for the time being. Let us take care of you.”

  Alixa had nothing for her besides a pale look of consternation.

  The calm silence was shattered when Emmie bounded into the tent with what speed she could muster. She threw herself on her friend.

  “Lix, you’re back! It’s so good to see those cold angry eyes again.”

  “Thanks, Sheep, I think. I’m kind of back anyway.”

  “What can you move? You up for a walk yet? Game of cards, maybe?” Emmie shifted on the bed, bumping up against Alixa’s leg.

  Alixa felt nothing, as though her body were part of the wood bed and not her at all. Her face flickered, and she couldn’t force a reply

  “Emmie, nothing’s changed,” Brie said. “Corbiern’s reasonably sure it’ll all come back, you know, but it will take time. Right now? She’s paralyzed.”

  Emmie’s eyes betrayed great disappointment for her friend, always so tough and physical, self-sufficient. Yet a mischievous smile spread across her face at the same time.

  “Full recovery, yah?”

  “Corbiern is optimistic.” Brie leaned back, observing the dynamic between the two girls.

  “But can’t move now, eh?”

  “Don’t even think about it, Sheep.”

  Emmie planted a wet kiss on Alixa’s cheek, then ran her left hand through Alixa’s hair all the way front to back before kissing her again on the forehead. Alixa had to lay there and take it.

  “You know how long I’ve wanted to love you up like this, Lixy?” Emmie caressed Alixa’s cheek with her thumb.

  “You devious little sneak. . .”

  “Oh, I know. You’ll get me later but right now I can love you as much as I want and you can’t so much as lift a finger in protest.” Emmie laughed and stuck her tongue out at her. Leaned in for a hug that almost smothered Alixa. “Lixy. . .”

  Emmie bolted upright with glee, banging her right arm on the side of the makeshift bed. Her eyes popped wide, and she let out a loud gasp, holding her arm to her chest as pain sizzled up and down her raw nerves. Tears formed in her eyes.

  “Serves you right, too,” Alixa said.

  Jes brought Renn in to join Emmie and Brie. Renn was overjoyed to see Alixa awake, if not quite as exuberantly as Emmie. And most assuredly he granted her, her personal space.

  “So, Brie,” Emmie said through gritted teeth. Her arm was still buzzing with pain, but she was enjoying herself too much to let that stop her. “Look at this old thing we found out on the road. Can we keep her?”

  “We were just discussing that actually,” Jes replied.

  “We’d love that, Alixa,” Brie said. “I don’t have a big place but you’re more than welcome.”

  The four intent faces expectantly awaiting her response made Alixa want to pull the blanket over her head. Except, of course, she couldn’t. She hated this paralysis. Hated being forced to let them care and fuss and fawn over her. Being spoon-fed by Renn’s mom? Enduring Emmie kissing her on the cheek and forehead? All the gushing emotion was mortifying.

  But then again, maybe not. She wouldn’t have to leave Renn and Emmie just yet. She’d be welcomed into what seemed a tight little family group. Enter a room without having to grasp her sword hilt. Sleep without rigging the door for intruders. Be normal, even. Well, once she could move. Alixa closed her eyes, trying to picture her rough cantankerous self, living in staid Drennich. She couldn’t—it sounded far better than life typically afforded her.

  “Come on, Lix.” Emmie popped her on the shoulder, which she didn’t feel. “We’d share a bedroom at Brie’s. What do you say to that?”

  “That would be a nightmare.” Alixa rolled her eyes. She direly wanted to say yes. She would like nothing more than to go home with them and quietly rest. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Emmie squinted at her, discerning precisely how difficult it was for her friend to admit she needed them, and even more so, that she very much wanted them. An unspoken understanding passed between the two sets of grey emotive eyes.

  “I don’t care what anyone else says, I say it’s settled. I’m keeping her. Bringing her home to live with us.” Emmie’s eyes twinkled at her. “What’re you going to do about it, Lixy?”

  “Not much I can do, eh?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Looks like I have no choice but to let you haul me back with you to Longarvale. Insufferable Sheep. . .”

  Somehow, Emmie had come to know her impossibly well. Alixa couldn’t move anything, but she could feel a joy in her chest that for the last thirteen years had been conspicuously absent. It was possible she’d never felt better.

  Epilogue: Home - Five Months Later

  Alixa stared through the Longar River flowing by the bend under the willow. Brie’s old willow. Brie said it helped her relax and meditate. Alixa was drawn to the eroding shoreline under the willow for very different reasons. Even in the slow, quiet Vale, right here the river still ran furious and violent. Alixa loved the chaotic rush. These months of recovery had been the most restful she had ever known. Yet in the quiet of the Vale, a furious rush still coursed through her.

  She ran her fingers along her knee-high green boots. Her old life had been a hard and lonely one. Yet she loved these boots she’d picked up at Baerdron’s inn. Loved that they marked her as the same tough, adept survivor she had always been. And that even in those long, lonely years, somebody had her back. More incredible still was that those rough people—people who she doubted even liked her—had come to her aid when she most needed help. She wasn’t that same survivor anymore, but she would keep what she needed of that Alixa and continue to craft who she was.

  Alixa breathed in the sweet early spring air. She heard a rustling in the grass behind her and rolled her eyes as Emmie's gleeful giggle filled the meadow.

  “Hey, Longar, hands off my Sheep,” Alixa called, still facing the river. “I gave you a choice opportunity to have her way back, and you passed. So hands off her now.”

  Alixa propped herself up in stages—months passed and still the lingering effects of paralysis often stopped her short. She craned her neck to see the two of them lounging together behind her in the grass. Alixa shot them a sarcastic, sneery smirk. Same one they’d met back at Baerdron’s inn, but now more benign, more playful.

  Renn sat up, blushing, right hand raised high in the air: no touching here.

  “Sorry. Hand to yourself.”

  Renn’s left arm was finally regaining some of its functionality. The shoulder that was shredded by the wanderlions had never fully healed, and then he’d ripped it apart again in the Tablelands. The doctor in Drennich had reset the shoulder and casted it down past his elbow. He was slowly recovering, but it would never fully return to normal.

  Emmie rolled over and grinned at Alixa, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

  “You, eh? Should’ve known it was you and not him, you little sneak. Do I need to douse you with a bucket of ice water?”

  Emmie bounced to her feet and bounded over, dropping down next to her friend
. She lay her head on Alixa's chest and her heavily bandaged right arm over top of Alixa’s legs. Alixa watched Emmie methodically flexing the fingers on that hand.

  Muscle and tendon had been sliced deeply and cleanly. Recovery would be painfully slow, and never complete. Earlier in the day, Alixa had watched Emmie attempt to clean a fish. It wasn’t pretty, but the effort was admirable. Sweat dripping from her forehead, hand trembling as her fingers strained to control the knife, she had to fight for a skill that had become as second nature to her as breathing. Emmie scowled at the two ragged fillets, a scattering of rib bones sticking out here and there. Alixa, though, was filled with pride. Nobody should be fooled by her, goofy and sweet as she was; the girl was no docile sheep.

  Emmie closed her eyes and smiled when Alixa ran her fingers through Emmie’s hair. The last five months had been surreal. After so long living on the road and in the woods, there was a giddy relief to waking up in a soft bed, her dad’s old wool blanket over top of her. Smelling Brie’s coffee percolating, then peering over at Alixa sleeping just across the room. Early on, waking up to Alixa was heartbreaking. Emmie would roll out of bed to find her lying awake, staring despondently at the ceiling. The fiercely independent young woman forced to wait for somebody to meet even her most basic of needs. The helplessness and shame reduced her to frustrated tears on many occasions.

  There’d been no hero’s welcome, which was fine. But there were plenty of funerals for those who died in battle, lending a new shine to the musty Drennich civic pride. And plenty of goodwill for both her and Alixa. Nothing overt or splashy, but the quiet acceptance gave Emmie a hunch that maybe the curse had been broken and slowly the Westerlunds would change. And lately Emmie noticed more than ever that Alixa's eyes strayed to the north. She was doing it now.

  “Straining for those three towers to Aveon?” Emmie’s eyes flicked back and forth. “No, you’re looking for that peninsula. I can tell. Your eyes shift the slightest bit east, as though you know exactly where it is.”