The Steele Wolf (The Iron Butterfly) (10 page)

“I refuse to stay here.” He moved across the room as far from me as possible.

“No, you’ll sit down and be quiet.” Odin challenged, pushing him back towards me. Odin, though older, was still a large clan warrior and he demanded respect. Forcefully grabbing Fenri's shoulder, he pushed him down on the chair.

“If it weren't for her hare-brained ideas, I wouldn't be crippled,” he breathed angrily through his teeth.

“Nonsense, this could have happened during any hunting trip. And it's not Thalia's fault.
 
Why are you blaming Thalia, when it's Bvork who chose to play dirty? Listen to me, young warrior. It doesn't matter how it happened. What matters is what you are going to do about it.” He spoke slowly and with meaning.

“Do? Are you kidding me?” Fenri spoke with such anger and despair that spit flew from his mouth. “There's nothing I can do. I can't use my hand, old man. I'm crippled.” Standing up, he paced the room. “What honor is there when I can't hunt game or protect and provide for a future wife?” Stopping to stare at me, he went on. “I'm useless.”

I could see that Odin was quite pleased with the fact that he was wearing down Fenri. Watching silently, I listened as the old wise warrior talked down and calmed the injured young man. When Fenri was tired and out of options, Odin went and grabbed a small knife and cut his own palm, letting a small flow of blood ebb onto his hand. Fenri opened his eyes wide in confusion.

“I know that you already made a blood oath about what happened in the pass and you swore to protect Thalia. But I'm surprised that after all you saw, you didn't give her a chance to try and help you.” Fenri's shoulder's dropped in shame.

“I didn't think she would want to help me after the way I talked to her after my fight.” He looked away from me and stared at a far wall.

“I do, Fenri,” I spoke up for the first time. “Or I would like to try, if you will let me.”

A small glimmer of hope shone in his eyes. “You would still help me?” he asked disbelievingly.

Smiling, I nodded.

“But,” interrupted Odin, “you will swear a new blood oath about anything you hear and everything you see happen tonight. Your hand being healed is not worth my goddaughter’s life. You hear me?” Odin threatened, pointing the already bloody knife at Fenri's throat. Fenri swallowed and shook his head.

“Good. Now hurry up before I have to cut my hand open again,” he complained. Fenri eagerly took the knife and made an identical slice on his palm and the two swore an oath in the old language.

When they were done, Odin unwrapped Fenri's hand and I almost vomited at what I saw. His whole hand had turned purple and swollen to twice its normal size. His fingers were bent in unnatural positions. I knew that the human hand consisted of numerous bones, nerves and muscles and that usually an injury like this would make a warrior lame. I could tell that Faraway and I were both to the point of exhaustion but we needed to work fast before anyone saw this.

“How many people have seen your hand like this?” I asked quickly, feeling myself start to second-guess what I was about to do.

“No one. I was afraid that if I went to the healer tent and someone told me that I would never regain the use of it, I would believe them, but it was already obvious I would. I went into the woods and tried to wrap it myself.”

Throwing me a look of relief, Odin nodded encouragingly for me to continue.

“Fenri, I can't take away your pain while I'm doing this. But I will do the best I can to make it like it was before.
 
You have to make sure that you keep it wrapped for the weeks to come. You have to pretend it’s healing slowly; do you understand?”

He nodded. “I think I have some dye that I can use to color my hand and make it looked bruised.”

“We are talking weeks of pretending to not use your hand at all, Fenri. If you mess up, I could be in serious trouble.”

Fenri came and kneeled before me and, taking my hands with his good one, he spoke. “Thalia, if you can heal my hand or even heal it to where it can then heal itself on its own, then that is worth not being able to use it for a few months. I would be eternally grateful to you.” I could see tears of hope form in his eyes.

“Papa Odin, if you have any ale or medicine for pain, please give it to him now. He's gonna need it.”

Odin had both and we gave him pain medicine and got him near drunk. We switched spots on the bench so that Fenri was lying down upon it and I was kneeling. I let myself relax as much as possible before reaching for Faraway. It was starting to come easier to me the more I reached for it.
 
Now that I was calm and numb from the pain, it came almost eagerly.

Closing my eyes and opening my sight, I saw the mangled mess of bones and muscles and nerves, and I began to doubt myself.

Don't doubt. We are here.

We?

I heard it first and then felt a familiar breathy laugh touch my consciousness.

Wolf?

Ja, it seems small one needed my help again. Four feet called me back.
The laughing retort came back.

My heart soared with delight. And I could visually see the grey wolf snapping his jaws in wolfish laughter.

I tentatively reached out towards wolf and felt them both in the woods outside of the house. I plucked at their energy and pulled it back to me, and all sense of nervousness fled.

Grasping Fenri's hand gently with a newfound confidence, I carefully worked on maneuvering each bone and set them to reknitting, then restored the nerve endings. I had to take frequent breaks and I stopped when Fenri's pain became too intense. I was so proud of him. He grunted and held in all of the agony, and made very little sound. When my hands started to shake and my sight became blurry, I had to quit for the night.

“I'm sorry, Fenri, I can't do anymore.” A terrible guilt washed over me. I felt like I failed him. I tried to stand and immediately came to my knees. Even with the help of my friends, my body was physically drained.

If borrowing power from one being was doubly draining on me, pulling from two was three times more exhausting. I was just glad I didn’t throw up. I was unable to heal myself, and my own injuries were making it hard to help him.

“I've set the bones and sped along their reknitting. I've also healed all of the damaged nerves and your muscles are starting the healing process. I've taken some of the swelling down and your body will heal itself, although faster. So wear the splint and check it in a few days. But everything looks normal. Maybe in a few days, I can try again.” I said, feeling my eyelids start to droop with weariness.

“No, Thalia, thank you for what you have done. It's better this way. If people ask about it and look, it still looks like it's injured. You've prevented me from being a cripple.”
 
Sitting up and biting his lip through the pain, he held up his hand and slowly moved each of his fingers. “Everything's set and now Mother Nature will run her course.”

Sitting down on the floor, I leaned on the bench and laid my head on my arms. “I'm glad. I truly am glad, Fenri.” And I closed my eyes, I felt a slight touch on my face and I opened my eyes in shock. “You can't do anything for yourself?” he said, gesturing to my bruised face and stitches.

Smiling, I shook my head. “That's not how the gift works. We were taught to use the gift for others, not ourselves. I wouldn't, even if I could,” I whispered tiredly. Fenri nodded to Odin who came and gently picked me up. I felt the cold night air brush my skin as I was brought back to my own home and room. My body felt numb and tingly, and I instantly fell asleep, only to dream terrifying dreams.

Again, I dreamed I was back in the iron butterfly and being tortured. The pain felt real as the clamps buried themselves deep into the pressure points along my body. I felt weak and drained.

Even though I knew I could access power now, the mere thought of the iron butterfly made me freeze in panic. I started to whimper and cry out and then I felt like I was suffocating. My eyes flew open as my mind came awake and I struggled to breathe. Someone was in my room, trying to smother me.

Chapter 12

“MMMFFFFF” I screamed into the hand that covered my mouth and nose. Opening my eyes, fear shot straight to my heart as a dark figure leaned over me and had one hand pressed on my chest and the other over my mouth, keeping me from moving or screaming.

“Shhhhh! Quiet!” the deep voice rumbled.

I tried to kick my legs, but I was too tired and weak from earlier. All I managed was a pathetic twitching of my knees.

“Darn it. Thalia, be quiet and stop moving,” the figure growled out quietly.

I knew that voice. I stilled and tried to think through all of the possibilities of how he could be here but it didn't make sense.

“That's a good girl.” Sitting back on the bed, the moonlight from the open window illuminated him.
 
I stiffened when I saw the drunk Stahler. Only this time, his voice didn’t’ match his body. He didn’t have an accent.

What I saw was the same drunk, smelly fur-wearing Stahler. What I heard was Kael’s voice. I dissected his costume with my eyes, stripping away the many layers of fur, leathers and dark makeup. If I had paid attention to the eyes, Kael’s dark stormy eyes, I would have noticed sooner.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said, interrupting my revelation.

I nodded my head, unable to speak, as the tremors from my dream rocked my body, making me shake.

“Brush it off,” he demanded. “You’re awake now. Whatever it was, it can't hurt you.”

Sitting there quietly, I let myself adjust from waking up from a nightmare and almost being smothered to realizing that Kael was in my room. The shock of it made me stare at him in confusion.

“What are you do—” I started to ask and then jumped to a different train of thought as I started to piece things together. “It was you fighting in the tournament today, wasn't it?” I found the strength to sit up in bed. “I wasn't imagining things. It’s been you the whole time. You saw me in the stable.
 
You insulted me in the main hall. I hardly believe it.”

Backing away from me, he sat on the edge of my bed. “Yes. And you were fighting as well.”

“You stink!” I spoke without thinking.

He looked at me and raised his eyebrow in question. “Well, so would you if you had to wear so many animal furs and were trying to impersonate one of your Stahler clansmen. I take it you haven't gotten close to many of them, because truthfully I did too good of a job; I fit right in. I infiltrated their party the day before they got to your village. Pretty easy; they aren’t that bright. All I had to do was listen and pretend to be drunk until I learned their heavy accent.” He grinned.

This was a side of Kael that I hadn’t seen before and I wasn’t sure what to make of this nonchalant attitude. Maybe it was because we weren’t at the Citadel or maybe it was because Joss wasn’t here.

I gave him a look of pure disgust as I got up and moved to my small fireplace and lit a fire.
 
I had begun to get goose bumps from the night air that was let in by the window. But I refused to close it, because then I would be enclosed in the room with him. When the small fire was roaring away, I looked at him intently.

“Why are you here?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

 
“I’m here because I don't take orders from you.”

“No; I mean, why did you come to Valdyrstal? After we escaped the iron butterfly and prison, you could have gone home but you didn’t. You showed up in Calandry and now, here.”

“I had to.”

“What do you mean you had to? From what I’ve read about your clan, no one can make you do anything if you don’t want to do it.”

“From what you’ve read?” He smirked, shaking his head as he walked past me to the bench by the window. He sat in my favorite spot and pulled one knee up and the other lay extended. He stared out into the darkness, and the moon illuminated his face. Looking at me, he crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow.

“So you think that if you read some book that is probably full of lies, by the way, it would explain everything there is to know about a person? About me?” He rolled his eyes. “The things in whatever book you’re reading don’t apply to me anymore.” Looking across the village his voice deepened to a whisper. “I can hardly call myself a SwordBrother.”

“Of course you are.”

“How would you know; you’re not a SwordBrother, now are you?” he said sarcastically. “A SwordBrother wouldn’t have let himself get captured and drugged. A SwordBrother vows to protect the weak, which I was unable to do until it was too late.” He looked at me pointedly. “Listen, I didn’t forget my past like you so conveniently did. Now I wish I could.”

“You think losing yourself, losing your memories, is convenient? You’re wrong.”

“I know what happened down there. You think I’m some hero when I’m not.
 
I couldn’t even save the boy, Tym. I found his body outside of the stable in the dark; he had been stabbed in the back.”

Sitting on a small wooden chair by the fire, I looked across the room to him.
 
He was angry, his jaw clenching and unclenching in his familiar way. His left hand flexed in anxiousness as if he longed to clutch a knife that I knew he had hidden somewhere on his body. My heart lurched at the reminder that Tym had only tasted freedom for a few minutes, but at least he was free now from the Septori.