Chapter 40: Claws

Chapter 40: Claws

Barry sat straight backed, his legs crossed before him as the sun started to peek over the eastern horizon.

“This was such a good idea, Barry,” Maria said.

Roger harrumphed from the other side of his daughter. “It’s lovely, but we have fields to work.”

“Dad, you are such a grump—we have all day to work, and Barry even offered to help us. The least we can do is take a few minutes to enjoy the sunrise with him.”

Barry smiled at the two, then closed his eyes, focusing on the cool wind blowing fitfully from the south.

“You aren’t obligated to join me; I’ll help you two with your field, regardless. I invited you to join me because this is the best way to start the day.”

“Well,” Maria said, “I, for one, am glad you suggested it. We’ve been so busy lately. I can’t tell you the last time we took a moment to appreciate the beautiful village we live in.”

Roger grunted, somewhere between agreement and annoyance at what he perceived to be a waste of time.

Should I ask them now? Barry thought.

He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.

No time like the present, I suppose . . .

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but is it all right if I ask you about your mother, Maria? It’s Sharon, right?”

“What does my wife have to do with this, Barry?”

Roger’s tone was hard as a rock, and Barry opened his eyes to peer at the farmer. Roger glared back, his eyes flinty, his expression flat.

“Fischer told me she’s been having some health issues. I just wanted to know what her ailment was, because I might be able to help her.”

Maria covered her father’s face with a hand, pushing him back lightly.

“Geez, Dad—can you drop the hackles for one second? You keep assuming the worst of people.”

Roger turned his gaze on his daughter. “Maybe you’re just too trusting, Maria—you take after your mother.”

Maria nodded. “That’s a good thing, you stone-headed oaf. What on Kallis could Barry do with the knowledge that Mom is sick?”

“What could he do to help with that information? Last I checked, you’re a farmer too, Barry—what can you do that we can’t?”

Barry held his hands up, trying to diffuse Roger’s anger. “Please, indulge me. We’ve dealt with a lot of odd ailments in our family, all of which we cured with natural remedies,” he lied.

Roger’s scowl deepened, and Maria sighed.

“Forgive Dad. He’s overprotective.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Would you share with me, though?”

Roger stood. “I’m going back to the fields. Say what you will, Maria.”

He turned and strode away, swiftly retreating from the shore.

Maria rolled her eyes after he’d left. “I swear, that man . . .”

“It’s not a bad thing to be overprotective,” Barry said. “I can empathize with where he’s coming from.”

They lapsed into silence, both returning their attention to the rising sun.

Eventually, Maria started talking. “Mom’s sickness is something you can’t see. It began with bouts of dizziness and weakness. Over time, it got worse, and for the last year or so, she’s been bedridden.”

“I’m sorry. That must be hard . . .”

Maria nodded as she continued staring out to sea. “It is. After some searching, we found an alchemist operating out of the village, and we’ve been buying elixirs from him. She doesn’t seem to be getting worse, but she’s also not getting better.”

Barry couldn’t stop both his eyebrows from shooting up.Diiscover new stories at novelhall.com

huge!” I raised my eyes to take in their creation now that the mystery of its existence was solved.

It was at least ten meters across from east to west, and twenty meters from north to south. The walls were three to four meters tall, and the bottom of the pond was already filled to the halfway point with salty water seeping in through the sand.

“Did . . . did you two work all night?”

Again, they nodded, now with more calm.

“I . . . can’t believe it . . .”

I bent down, patting them both to let my elation out. “You two are amazing! I don’t think I could have done this myself in a single night!”

Snips bubbled happily and closed her eye as I scratched her.

The otter extended her head into my rubs, staring at me with big golden-retriever energy.

“Are you done, or do you plan to make it bigger?”

Snips and the otter reacted as one again, stretching both their forelimbs out wide.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “What do you two say to some breakfast, first? You don’t have to finish it all right now, and I’m sure you both need some rest after a full night of digging.”

They both nodded, their eyes gleaming.

If I was being honest, I was still a little unsure of the name I’d offer my otter pal when I woke up. I hoped it would come to me as I lay in bed, but I’d fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. I knew, however, that it would come to me.

My food sat untouched as I watched Snips and the otter devour theirs. If the average villager were to walk by and catch sight of the decimation before me, they’d probably be horrified. Me? I was ecstatic they were enjoying themselves and my cooking.

As usual, Snips ate the crab whole, carapace and all. The otter had started by using her trusty rock, but after a pause, did something astounding. She held a paw out, and with a small flex, extended five ridiculously sharp claws. She swiped down, obliterating the cooked crab in front of her. Her head cocked back, seemingly startling herself with her own strength and efficacy. The astonishment only lasted a brief second, and she quickly started collecting chunks of crab meat with her agile paws, shoveling them into her mouth.

At that moment, I was struck with inspiration, and her name came to me.

. . . it can wait until after breakfast.

I started eating too, and the wonderful flavor swept me away. Adding salt to the water was a game changer. The increased salinity clung to the shell and seemed to spread throughout, adding a rich depth to the sweet meat within. When I sucked the cracked limbs, salty juices joined the flesh and a groan of contentment escaped me.

“Oh, man, this is unreal,” I said around a mouthful.

They both nodded, Snips crunching away, the otter chewing adorably.

Before I knew it, I was finished, and I let out a sigh after eating the last bite. “How was it, ladies?”

Snips bubbled happily from the sand. The otter let out a soft chirp, lounging on my other side, and I turned to her.

“I wanted to ask—do you have a name?”

She glanced up at me lazily, shaking her head.

“Do . . . do you want one?”

She sat up, her eyes considering me with a spark of intelligence.

She gave a single nod.

“How do you feel about the name Corporal Claws?”

Blinking, she shot toward me. She leaned her upper body against my leg, nodding and chirping incessantly.

I smiled and let out a small laugh. “I’m glad you like it!”

I stroked Corporal Claws’s head, causing her to close her eyes and lean into me.

I felt Snips press up against my other side, and before she could complain, I started petting her, too.

My little family has grown . . .