A Sword from Red Ice

Effie frowned. She could tell by the set of his shoulders that Chedd had entered what Mog Willey called "the clamdown." Once someone had entered the clamdown the only thing to do was leave them alone. They would open up only in their own good time.

Light goldened as the sun moved to the west. The wind died and the chop left the water. Effie couldn't see anything but water and trees. Pines and hardwoods warred for space along the shore. Over time her legs had grown stiff and she raised them a little bit to get the blood pumping. The chains were wet and dripping; there was always an inch of water in the boat. As she watched the chains swing between her feet she thought of Chedd and Waker and Waker's father. Something was lying at the far edge of her memory and she was trying to make it roll toward her. Of course as soon as she tried it rolled the other way. Memories were tricky little animals to catch.

Feeling the boat pull strongly toward the right, she glanced over her shoulder at Waker's father. His face told her nothing, but she could see from his strokes that he was guiding the boat ashore. Wondering why they were stopping so early Effie scanned ahead. Smoke lines, three of them, rose above the tree canopy in the distance. Effie wondered what roundhouse or settlement they came from. A handful of tiny ancient clanholds lay along the river between Ganmiddich and Croser. The country was wild here, thickly forested and overrun with vines. It was known as "tree country" and Inigar Stoop always said it was nothing more than a hatchery for flies and a feeding ground for bears. Effie took it to mean he disapproved of the wild clans that lived here.

When she saw Waker set down his paddle and draw out the pole from its place in thie hull of the boat, Effie realized they weren't going ashore after all. They were going to pole up a creek.

Even though she looked really hard she couldn't spot the tributary until they were right on top of it. She could feel its waters, pushing against the stern of the boat, even perceive the cross eddies swirling where the two channels met, yet could see nothing but choked-up willow and sumac ahead. Anyone looking on would have thought Waker and his father were about to pole right onto the shore. But no, at the last instant Effie spied a telling shadow beneath the trees. Crouching low and tucking their heads against their chests to avoid being hit by branches, Waker and his father steered the boat through the canopy and into the creek.

A pretty nifty move, Effie thought, slapping at a willow twig that was aiming right for her eye.

The creek was narrow and winding, a line of brown water leading through the trees. Waker's breath came harder as he poled against the quick-moving current. Effie kept herself still. The boat was rolling from side to side and she didn't like it one bit.

Girlie, girlie, girlie, girlie. Wonder why it wasn't early? For some reason Waker's father's stupid rhyme kept playing in her head.

They headed upstream until the light failed, and then Waker's father guided the boat to a narrow pebble beach surrounded by black oak and hemlock. It was nearly dark by the time Effie stepped into the water. Her legs were a bit numb so she didn't feel the cold much. The memory was back again, playing hide-and-seek in her head.

"Girl, gather sticks for the fire." Waker held the boat for his father to alight and then began to unpack the load.

Effie's feet were still in the water. The bottom of her dress was wet. She was shivering and all she wanted to do was wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep. "I have a name, you know," she said to Waker. "It's Effie Sevrance. And that over there is Chedd Limehouse."

Chedd, hearing his name mentioned, looked up from his task of laying bedrolls, saw Effie facing off against Waker Stone and decided to make himself disappear. "Off for a piss," he said to no one in particular, darting into the trees.

Waker had been in the process of unloading the waxed sack containing the food. Gaze staying on Effie he walked to the shore and deposited the sack on the beach. It landed with a crunch. "Your name won't mean nothing where you're going. So drop your proud little fan-cies and build the fire."

Effie felt heat rise to her cheeks. Waker's father passed her in the water, his malignant ferret face twitching. Effie waited for him to walk up the beach before addressing his son. "Are you selling us to the mine lords of Trance Vor?" There. She'd spit it out.

Waker Stone's eyes bulged a fraction farther from his skull. His head went back and a high braying noise exploded from his lips.

Effie stepped back. The noise continued and she realized quite suddenly that he was laughing. Behind her, Waker's father sniggered once in solidarity and then went quiet.

After a moment Waker calmed himself and looked her straight in the eye. "Girl, I promise you you're not going to no mine."