Shaxoa's Gift (30 page)

I nodded, one hand slipping into my pocket
and fingering the lock of Claire’s hair. The silken strands calmed
me instantly. “Okay. Show me what to do.”

Samantha brought the knife up to the palm of
her hand. Laying it across the heel of her palm, she said, “Cut
straight across and let the blood run until you have enough. Once
the cup is filled you can add it to the herbs.” Samantha turned to
her sister. “Would you get the first aid kit? We’ll need it when
he’s done.”

“I’ll be right back,” Kaya said. She hurried
out of the room, and Samantha handed me the knife.

“You’ll have to do it by yourself, like
yesterday,” Samantha said.

I had guessed as much. I took the knife from
her hand and walked up to the counter. I was not afraid of blood,
or at least I didn’t used to be. I had seen blood fairly often on
the ranch when the new lambs or foals were born, when the old or
sick sheep were put down, but ever since my mom was attacked by the
deranged cougar, I found it much harder to stand the sight of
blood. I wasn’t sure how I would do watching my own blood pour out
of me.

I lifted my callused hand. Claire’s skin was
so soft, so perfect. My rough hands must feel so coarse against
hers. I wondered if it ever bothered her. My fingertips still had a
purple tint to them from the juniper berries I had crushed the day
before. A few of my knuckles were red from slipping when I was
using the herb grater as well. Rough or smooth, my hands needed
only one thing to soothe them. I would be home to Claire soon.

Touching the knife to my skin, I took a deep
breath and clamped my jaw. I drew the blade across in one swift
motion. Hot pain sliced up my arm. I would have yelled if my teeth
weren’t already locked in place. Instead, I only groaned and sucked
in air through my teeth. The coppery smell reached my nose and sent
my stomach churning. I regretted eating breakfast.

I kept my eyes up while the warm liquid
dripped into the cup. Samantha and Kaya stood to the side,
discussing something that hopefully had nothing to do with me. Both
sisters kept a careful eye on me. I looked down hoping to see the
cup nearly filled. It wasn’t even half way to the top. I looked
away quickly and thought of Claire.

As my graduation had grown closer, my mind
had become filled with Claire even more than usual. I had once
thought that Claire would spend her last year in high school
without me, but it had never worried me. It was strange to me that
the idea of staying in San Juan with her would produce the feelings
it did. Maybe the idea of leaving for college had seemed safe, like
I was giving her the chance to be sure about me.

I never doubted Claire’s love for me, but I
never really understood what drew her to me, especially when there
was so much pushing us apart. There was nothing I had that she
didn’t already have. I had so little to offer her. The truth was,
it would have been a much bigger test for me. I felt lost without
Claire. If I could have survived the year without her, I would have
proved to myself that I at least somewhat deserved her.

Facing graduation had made me think about the
next year with Claire. Staying in San Juan meant being with her
every day for another year. I had planned to propose to her after
she graduated, and get married in the fall. It wasn’t until my dad
brought up going to the Elders for permission that my plans
changed. He didn’t insist, but asked. Waiting to propose until
Claire graduated would have meant not marrying Claire until the
next summer. That would have been okay before, but not after
everything that had changed. I didn’t want to wait two more years,
not when every day her glowing smiles and warm embraces would beg
me to break the promises I had made. Plus, my dad dying hours after
his request that I follow tradition and ask the elders was hard to
refuse.

Surrendering to my deepest desires, I found
myself driving to Santa Fe two weeks before graduation. My dad had
told me many times how nervous he was to buy my mom’s ring. I knew
the story well and I followed his example, heading straight to the
same store he had gone to, Sandoval Jewelers. The same man still
owned the store, but the young man at the counter was only a few
years older than me.

I walked into Sandoval Jewelers, my palms
itching furiously. The salesman greeted me courteously. “Hello,
sir,” he said, “how can I help you today?”

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my
slacks. I had worn my best clothes, not wanting anyone to take me
for a kid playing around. The clothes and my height and build
helped sell the image. The clerk eyed me as a serious customer.
“I’m looking for an engagement ring,” I said.

The salesman didn’t even blink. He merely
gestured to a case on his left. “We have a very fine selection of
engagement rings, sir. May I ask your girlfriend’s name?”

“Her name is Claire.”

“Claire. That is a beautiful name. Do you
have a type of ring or setting style in mind already?” he
asked.

“Nothing too flashy. Claire likes
simplicity,” I said.

The salesman nodded as if he had expected
exactly that answer. “These three here are very popular and very
tasteful.”

They were also the most expensive. I nodded
and settled my gaze on the rows of rings. Claire almost never wore
jewelry anymore. She would love anything I gave her, but I knew her
tastes well. I immediately ruled out the largest diamonds. Claire
would look at them and call them gaudy no matter how beautiful the
setting was.

Another sweep ruled out several more with
elaborate settings or multiple jewels. Claire had described the
ring she wanted once, and I knew it would be in the case somewhere.
I scanned the third row of rings and saw it. The white gold band
was smooth until just before it reached the diamond. At the last
moment the band twisted twice before melding seamlessly into the
raised setting, holding a perfect princess cut diamond.

“May I see this one?” I asked the
salesman.

He unlocked the case and slipped the ring
onto a velvet tray. Holding the tray out to me, he said, “A very
good choice, sir. Your bride will love it, I’m sure. All of our
diamonds are the highest quality.”

I held the ring up and imagined giving it to
Claire. I could see the smile on her face, and I knew it was the
right one. The salesman made a few more comments about how Claire
would love the detail or the coloring of the diamond, or the pure
white gold of the band, as he rang up the purchase and placed the
ring in a black velvet box. As a final touch, the salesman wrapped
the box with Sandoval’s signature turquoise ribbon.

I walked out of the store trying to talk
myself out of giving it to Claire the moment I got back to San
Juan. I spent the drive home planning exactly how I would propose
to Claire. When the ranch came into view, I knew exactly how I
would present the ring.

“Uriah,” a voice called out, bringing me back
to the present. Kaya and Samantha were crowding around me. I looked
down at my left hand, remembering the stinging pain.

“Uriah, you’re done now. Let me have your
hand,” Kaya said.

I was slow to react. Kaya grabbed my hand and
began washing it with antiseptic wipes. I barely noticed when she
squeezed ointment onto the cut and started wrapping my hand with
gauze. I couldn’t take my eyes off the blood. It sat on the
counter, a scarlet lake with bloody raindrops surrounding it. The
strong smell had filled the room now. I tried breathing through my
mouth, but that was even worse. I settled for looking away and
taking very shallow breaths.

“Okay, I think that will do it. Just be
careful with the bandage.” Kaya released my hand with a worried
look.

“You can pour it into the water, now, Uriah,”
Samantha said.

I reached for the measuring cup. It seemed so
small in my hand. Carefully I moved the cup from the counter and
held it above the boiling herb and spice filled water. I was
startled to see how much the mixture had changed from the night
before. Instead of the ingredients floating in the water, the
mixture had reduced down to a dark aromatic liquid with flecks of
singular herbs barely visible.

Slowly, I emptied the measuring cup into the
pot. I watched the blood swirl and take over, drowning the scent
and changing the color. I waited, expecting some kind of reaction,
but the liquid continued to simmer as if nothing had happened. My
shoulders slumped. I wanted some sign that the potion was going to
work, that I had not wasted the last few days. If I had made Claire
suffer alone for no reason, I would never forgive myself.

I turned to Samantha and Kaya expectantly.
Kaya’s face was hopeful, but no less certain than mine. Samantha
was smiling serenely.

“Did it work?” I asked.

“Yes, it did,” Samantha said. Her clasped
hands dropped to her side with relief.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“I can’t really explain it, Uriah, but I
know. I can feel it changing, strengthening. The potion will work.
I don’t know how I know, but it will.” The emphasis on the last few
words was convincing. Samantha wouldn’t give me false hope. I had
no doubt her talents weren’t simply limited to research. There was
power behind Samantha’s words.

I looked back at the pot. “How am I supposed
to get it home?” I asked.

“Oh, just a minute,” Samantha said. Turning
to her cupboards she was quick to find what she needed. A tough
metal thermos was in her hand. “This should work.”

I took the bottle and unscrewed the lid. I
was considering how to pour the potion from the pan to the bottle
without spilling everything when Kaya handed me a funnel. “Thanks,”
I said. I started to pour the liquid. A few minutes later, the
herb, spice, and blood mixture was safely stored in the bottle and
packed into my backpack.

“Is there anything left to do?” I asked the
sisters.

“It’s done,” Samantha said. Relief that the
potion was finished was plain in her body language, but hope that
she had used her talents for good subdued every other emotion.

“I think you’re ready to go,” Kaya said.

“There’s only one more thing I wanted to talk
to you about, Uriah,” Samantha said.

“Does it involve any more blood?” I asked,
pushing away thoughts of my mother’s mauling.

“No, no,” Samantha said. “I’m concerned about
how you should give the potion to Claire. I told you earlier about
how feared this particular potion has been through the centuries.
The fact that no one has ever used it before still worries me. The
person who drinks it will know what they’ve lost, and they may live
the rest of their life locked in a deep depression.”

“But you said that if someone truly wants the
Twin Soul bond broken, they would see it as a chance at freedom,
right?” I asked. I tried to control my breathing and heartbeat.
Panic would not help me.

“Yes,” Samantha agreed, “at least that’s what
I’m hoping. But still, I think you should be very careful about how
you present the potion to Claire. If she drinks it only because she
knows how much you want her back, I think she’ll react badly. I
think the only chance of this working out the way you want it to
will be if she drinks it completely of her own free will, with no
pressure from anyone. If she doesn’t, I fear she’ll regret the
decision.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on forcing her to
drink it,” I said. I just wanted to leave and get back to
Claire.

“I know you wouldn’t do that, Uriah. I’m just
trying to tell you how important it is that she feel absolutely no
pressure to sever the bond. I think it has to be her idea, her
desire and hers alone. If it isn’t, you may both regret this,”
Samantha said.

“What do you suggest I do, then?” I
asked.

Kaya was nodding with understanding. “Don’t
give it to her until she asks for it,” she said.

“What? How is she going to ask for it when
she doesn’t even know I have it?”

Kaya took an indignant stance. “She doesn’t
have to ask for it by name, Uriah. She just has to ask you for a
way to sever the bond. I think what Sam is saying makes sense. It
has to be her idea.”

“She’ll probably ask you as soon as you get
home,” Samantha said. “What else would you have been doing the past
few days except trying to find a way to sever the bond, but that’s
not the point. The point is that she needs to ask for it before you
give it to her. I think it’s the only way to protect her.”

“Not the only way,” Kaya said softly.

Samantha’s eyes dropped to her hands. My
stomach churned at the simple gesture. Fear kept me from asking
what she meant, so I waited without breathing.

“You can’t be the one to give Claire the
potion,” Samantha finally said.

“What?”

“We’ve been thinking about it very carefully,
and there’s just no way you could give it to Claire without her
feeling pressured to drink it.” Samantha held up her hand when I
tried to argue. “I know you wouldn’t try to influence her, but if
Claire was faced with both you and the potion, she would
undoubtedly feel guilt for even considering turning you away.”

My arguments died away. I could picture my
face, pleading even if my words did not. The fall of my shoulders
gave away my defeat. “What if I give it to my mom?” I asked
quietly.

The sisters glanced at each other, then back
at me. “Do you really think your mom could do any better? After
everything she’s already lost, would she be able to face losing
Claire if she refused?”

I knew my mom. I loved her so much, but I
knew she couldn’t handle this any better than I could. “Then who?”
I asked.

“Quaile,” Kaya said, immediately continuing
on before I could once again voice my distrust of that woman.
“Uriah, we know Quaile hasn’t done right by you so far, but we also
have to admit she knows more about this than either of us do. She
won’t pressure Claire, and she’ll know if there’s anything we’ve
missed about this potion. She’s really the only one.”