“She’s broken every house rule at my inn, thrown beer in my face countless times, called me the vilest names imaginable. We shout each other down. I toss her out. But I can’t forget those frightened, helpless eyes that first time I met her, and whatever it is torments her that she won’t say. I take her back in, every time.”
With that, Baerd rebuffed any attempts to question him further.
“Ebner,” Brie eagerly changed the subject. “Emmie and Renn. They holding up? I mean, you know. . .”
“How inconsiderate of me, my dear. I’ve done nothing to allay your fears.” He shot her a gap-toothed smile. “I would be lying if I said all was peaceful and serene. They’ve their tensions, hard feelings, distrust.”
“Ohhh. . .” Brie’s body sagged with dismay.
“To be clear, they were, all things considered, of a good mindset. After all, what relationship worth having is without tension?”
“I suppose. But, with them. . .” Brie shrugged.
“Favorites of yours, I daresay?”
“An advocate can’t play favorites. Arranging marriages, over half the young people in Drennich, in one way or another, are my kids. But Renn and Emmie? Yes, I have my favorites. So, of course, I’m trying to make a match there.” Brie laughed, then added defensively. “All legit. The families asked. But I don’t see how they’ll figure it out. They show any sign of. . . anything?”
“Oh, the boy cares for her deeply. Doesn’t know how to say it. And she’s, hmm, cut off from her emotions it seems. Something was eating at her good when she got here and, well, I gave her even more to eat away at her before she left. Sorry, Advocate, didn’t help you much.”
“What’d you say to her?”
“They were asking about the Bandu, Chastien, the north.” He gestured to his wall hangings. “There may be a drop of royal blood there, I wager. If they are going north, as I imagine, somebody’s liable to crown one a queen. Not sure how they’d . . .”
Baerd and Brie exchanged horrified looks.
“What?”
Neither answered.
“Look here, Baerdron. I let Alixa off with skirting my questions, but we go way back, boy. You’ll get no such pass.”
“Best tell him what you know, Brie.” Baerdron fingered his axe. “If anyone in all the Westerlunds can sort this out, it may be him.”
Brie cast him an anxious look, then told Ebner Ben’s story of finding his daughter, Kelebis’s confession, and her own burning visions. The hermit brooded, his eyes flicking between the fire and the regalia on his walls.
“I can only surmise,” he concluded at last, “That some force from the Lone Mountain has gauged their intentions—unintended as they are—and is moving to intercept. They’re headed for the old southern Bandu settlements, I reckon. I don’t have to tell you they mean our friends grievous harm.”
“Then we need to act,” Brie cried, clattering up from her chair. “Now!”
“My dear.” The old hermit didn’t move, merely templed his fingers. “You are acting.”
“But they have at least two weeks head start.” Brie grasped her chair. “We need to go.”
“We best stay the night, let the men rest,” Baerd said. “Especially if we plan to push ‘em.”
“Those two weeks may not prove the impediment you fear,” the hermit mused. “Alixa’s posturing notwithstanding, they’ve no real sense of urgency. The questions they carry make for too heavy a load.”
“If they thought they’d already murdered Emmie, and now discovering she’s alive, still want her dead, I can’t. . .” Brie paced the room, far too anxious to be swayed by his logic. She threw her hands out pleadingly at a shield on the wall. “But she’s just a child. A sweet, little golden-haired child.”
Ebner sat bolt upright, startling Brie. He shuffled across the floor, mouth mumbling inaudibly, ignoring or waving off Brie’s attempts to get his attention. Every here and there, mumbling ‘what if, what if. . .’
As suddenly as he jumped up, he plopped back into his chair.
“I cannot answer that adequately, Brie,” he said solemnly, as though the conversation had never broken. “But I will say this: the witch never lost her loathing or fear of the descendants of Chastien. If she thought there was a chance your girl,” he said to Brie, then motioned to Baerd. “Or yours, was of the bloodline that repelled all her goals and ambitions, she would stop at nothing. But, why here and now, or 13 years ago? Why these girls? I cannot fully answer that.”
“But you’ve an idea, Ebner?” Baerd asked.
“I’m an old man with many ideas. I’m afraid you will have to accept that I cannot be forthcoming with them at this time. Baerdron, I ask you to trust our many years of history.”
“Aye.”
“Brie, we sadly do not have that trust to fall back on, but you must go, follow them. You’ve concerns enough to occupy you. I’m an old man, who must stay put. Let me do what I’m able.”
“Fine.” Brie sighed, not understanding at all.
“Although,” he said, with a sudden gleam in his eye. “If you could loan me a man—someone who can represent himself well—I may be of more service. Maybe even deliver something absolutely golden if what I’m. . . no, enough.” He chuckled to himself, waving his hand in the air. “In your rag-tag team, Baerdron, do you have someone like that?”
“Hey, wake up.” Brie nudged the sleeping Leeman with her foot. “I’ve a job for you.”
“Um. What’s that?” Leeman mumbled, slowly coming to.
“You ever dream of being an ambassador, boy?” Ebner asked.
“I, uh. . .” Leeman shot Brie a questioning look. “What’d you tell him, Brie?”
“He’s looking for a man with diplomatic flair. I know you’re not fond of marching, but the Leeman I saw in Longardin? The man he’s looking for is you, absolutely you.”
Leeman was flattered. If he had a part to play when Brie had impulsively volunteered him to come on the journey to begin with, both she and he knew this was it.
“An ambassador, that’d be a dream of mine, sir.”
“Perfect. There’s a man who owes me a favor—it’s time I cash in.” Ebner rustled about for a parchment and quill. “You’ll be bringing much-needed assistance, Mr. Leeman. You may be bringing so much more.”
“I’m your man, Brie.” Leeman brightened, filled with a pride he had lacked since their departure from Longardin. “I won’t let you down.”
LVI - The Western Winnepaccan Woods
“It’s you?” Emmie released Alixa and pushed herself away. She retreated towards Renn, pointing a shaking finger at Alixa. “You have a necklace, same as mine. You didn’t think that was worth telling us? Or, didn’t think I was worth telling maybe?”
“It’s always under my tunic. I forget it’s even there.” Alixa dropped her hands into her lap. “The sign on the sword and the necklace seemed the same, besides.”
“But. . .” Emmie clenched her fists. “This is important!”
“You think I don’t know that?” So much for opening herself up to someone, she fumed.
“Well, not just for you. It isn’t all about you! I don’t even know what to say!”
“Don’t say anything then!” Alixa stood and yelled. “Ever think of that?”
“How about this?” Renn placed his hand on Emmie’s shoulder. She turned her smoldering eyes on him. “Alixa, you okay?”
Alixa’s wounded scowl passed from Emmie to Renn. She slowly turned towards the woods, back the way she came, her shoulders sagging. Emmie flicked her shoulder. Renn knew enough to remove his hand.
“I’m serious, Alixa. This isn’t something you want, I’m sure. How are you taking it?”
Alixa opened her mouth but closed it just as quickly. A single tear glistened at the corner of her eye. It hung for a moment, then dropped. Emmie watched the tear wind its way down Alixa’s cheek; she took a long, slow breath and let her heart break for her friend.
“I hate it, Renn.” Alixa clo
sed her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Lix,” Emmie said. “I am. This isn’t easy for any of us. Forgive me?”
“I know you wanted to be Princess Emmie.” Alixa wiped the tear away “Somehow, it ends up being me.”
“I got what I wanted. I’m good.”
“Don’t lie to make me feel better. Nothing can do that.”
“Really, I did. I’m going home, Lix. Make it my home. I’ll be your ambassador to Longarvale, that’s what I’ll do.”
Alixa barked a brittle laugh, not believing her friend wasn’t keenly disappointed. Emmie, though, was fully convinced. Dad believed she could make a difference at home. She would. She knew it. It was an odd realization, but in that moment she knew what she was made for.
“I’m exhausted.” Alixa, choosing to leave it at that, lay down. “I need sleep, k?”
They watched her turn over in a pile of leaves, curl into a ball, facing away from them.
“Thanks, Renn,” Emmie whispered. “For stopping me from going off on her.”
“You were surprised, that’s all. But you’re kind of cute when you’re pouty.”
“Uh, yeah?” Emmie turned red.
“Stop,” Alixa’s tired voice rose from the gathering dusk. “Play your games tomorrow. Go to bed.”
Renn and Emmie complied, but Alixa lay awake for hours. She couldn’t stop thinking about how a two-year old Emmie had been marked for death and her family murdered, somebody thinking she was Alixa. How many other little girls died because of her? How many families were destroyed as Alixa, totally oblivious, was snuck out of Kaisson?
Hearing Emmie’s soft snores, Alixa slid next to her, sadly studying her peaceful sleep. Now that she’d let the memories flood back in, Alixa could recall the faces of her classmates, the older girls she admired so, the babies she held to give their moms a break. Not one of them had been as fortunate as Emmie. Every single child, every single person in her entire valley—all dead. All but Alixa, the very one the Aegorites were looking for. Guilt as dark as night began to consume her. Alixa wrapped her arms around Emmie, wishing for. . . she didn’t even know what.
Sometime later, Emmie startled awake to a long, strong body pressed into her own. Alixa’s white hair, glowing in the moonlight, tickled her nose. Emmie licked her lips, whispered, “Hey, Lix, love you and everything, but you’re smothering me.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Alixa mumbled groggily. “I just. . . well, I. . .”
“Needed to know you aren’t alone?”
Alixa’s hug became so desperate and fierce, Emmie could feel Alixa’s hard muscles digging into her before, with a sigh, Alixa rolled over onto her back.
“Wanna talk?”
“I. . . no.” Alixa rubbed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to escape the new reality she found herself in. She’d kill for a bottle of bourbon. Maybe an entire cask.
“I don’t mind being your toy cuddlebear. Come on back.” Emmie waited. Nothing. “Alixa, get over here right now.”
Maybe the bleary numbness of getting drunk she’d turned to for years wasn’t the answer. Alixa rolled over and wrapped Emmie up again.
“Squeeze as hard as you need,” Emmie whispered. “My stuffing won’t come out.”
Alixa did, so tightly Emmie could scarcely breath, until she finally, fitfully, fell asleep. Emmie peered up at the stars, felt the salt of tears on her neck. She smiled and stayed awake in Alixa’s place, finding herself quite content to absorb somebody else’s pain.
In the days that followed, Alixa wore her newfound royalty like a death plague. Guilt and dread dogged her incessantly. The moodiness was hardly new. But her sullen demeanor now hung like a cloud heavy with sadness. Emmie’s ribs ached from regular sessions as a midnight cuddlebear. She would never tell Alixa that, though she feared one had cracked. That Alixa was seeking comfort, and seeking it from her, was too high an honor.
One bright solace was seeing how with each day Renn could walk further, and even a little faster. While the three slashes down his right cheek remained tender and prominent, the bruising was subsiding, and he could move his fingers on his left hand. Alixa adjusted the bandaging to keep only the shoulder immobilized. Still, he tended to overwork himself. Most days, pained and beleaguered, he limped along alone. Alixa and Emmie would round back to him, finding him with head hanging low, a hand over the scars covering half his face. Though he’d never admit as much, Alixa began to wonder how much of his weariness was due to injury and how much was embarrassed self-consciousness.
Finally, three days after Corbiern had estimated their arrival, Alixa and Emmie stood atop the crest of a low hill, the massive lake and its mountainous walls spread out before them.
“There it is, Sheep.” Alixa gestured at the awe-inspiring sight before them. “Winnepaca.”
Dusk was still a couple hours off, but already the lake, with its deep mountain backdrop, was cast in grey shadows. Despite the light breeze ruffling their hair, Winnepaca lay perfectly still, as though in deep slumber.
“I’ll scout a trail. Wait for Renn.” Alixa pointed at Emmie as she descended the slope. “Then wait with him. He’ll need a breather after those last hills.”
Emmie was left alone with the lake. The idea of it made her shiver.
“What am I even looking for?”
Emmie tried to imagine this place, 13 years ago. Maybe Kelebis had lugged her up this hill, bound and drugged, away from what had been home and those who loved her. She always hoped there’d been somebody who loved her. Usually, she doubted that. Maybe her dad scampered this way, holding her close as he ran her to safety. Maybe nothing happened right here. Maybe that mattered, maybe it didn’t. She dropped her head in her hands.
Renn plopped to the ground a few feet away, his face fixed in the grim mask he wore to cover constant pain and fatigue. Emmie raised her head but Renn barely glanced her way. He’d been growing bitter with her again. Just as they were getting back to normal, it seemed, she’d grown quiet and reflective, prone to solitude, as they approached the lake. He hated himself for it. For failing at his promise, as he seemed to at everything. The bitterness lingered anyway.
“Hiya, Renn.” Emmie scooched next to him. “I don’t know how I should feel, finally here.”
“Tell me what you are feeling.” Bitterness melted as she leaned into his side, her soft hair grazing his neck. Even his shoulder seemed to hurt less. “Without thinking what you should.”
“I wish Dad were here, more than anything. I want to go home, Renn. I’m so tired.”
They sat quietly together as dusk cast longer and darker shadows across the lake. They both followed the flight of an enormous bird far overhead, the widest wingspan they’d ever seen. After a couple swooping passes, the massive bird glided eastward. Neither said a word.
Renn was at a loss for something—anything—to say. Saying nothing to alleviate her sadness was pathetic; whether he was a prospective-betrothed, a friend, or anything beyond a damp lump of moss.
Eventually, Emmie leaned back and smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t need you to. I just needed. . . you with me.” Emmie blushed and shyly stuck her tongue into her cheek. Her eyes danced around the sky, searching for words, up there, somewhere.
“Hey, kids!”
Alixa bounded into view. Startled, Renn and Emmie quickly scooched apart, consciously looking at Alixa and not each other, feeling keenly embarrassed as always.
“Found a trail, about a mile off. With any luck we can be at the beach before dark. And we best get settled in by then. Something about this place feels. . . off.”
Arriving at the beach, something did give them pause. Something in the air? A smell? A taste? They couldn’t place what disturbed them, but it was unmistakable.
“I’d feel better if Corbiern was here,” Emmie said, rubbing her shoulders.
“We’re late. Night’s falling,” Renn said. “Would you stick around this place after dark if
you didn’t have to?”
Alixa and Emmie’s dark looks told him the question wasn’t appreciated. They, after all, would be spending the night by the enchantingly oppressive lake. They lit no fire, and their scattered conversations didn’t carry above a whisper. Alixa settled them into the most sheltered encampment she could find, a large concave rock flanked by shrubby bushes and a couple downed trees.
“Anyone else cold?” Emmie asked, huddling against Alixa. “I got the chills something awful. And it’s so damp. Like, I can’t shake this weird sense I’m baby-me again, about to be tossed in the lake to die.”
“Knock it off, Sheep.” Alixa smacked her. “You’re supposed to be our sunshiny one.”
Emmie hunkered down against the southernmost log. Alixa lay next to her, still under the overhang of the rock. Renn wedged himself against another log, as close as possible to the girls without feeling awkward. How Ben had passed a night here alone—and worse than alone—he could hardly fathom. Another testament to a man he wished he’d had the sense to get to know when he had the chance.
“Sweet dreams, y’all,” Emmie sung out softly, not recalling her dad’s waking dream here. Not knowing that in centuries past Winnepaca, especially in the crisp weeks of fall, especially when the air was charged with electric tension, was esteemed as a destination for seekers of visions and dreams.
LVII - Lake Winnepaca
Emmie woke to find herself standing calf-deep in the freezing lake, her vision fuzzy and grey. She rubbed her eyes to try to clear away the bleariness of sleep. She glanced around again. No, everything was a muted grey. Muted and indistinct. Emmie shook her head. And then she caught sight of something moving, along the northwestern shore, not far from their encampment. A tall woman drifted—yes, drifted— from behind one tree, then another. Edging ever closer.
Emmie reached for her scabbard. Gone.
Her dagger. Nothing.
She looked to their camp. Her weapons belt lay unstrapped. Renn and Alixa were gone. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. All she could do was stand helplessly before the oncoming figure.
The Silver Claw Page 35
