“Quite a surprise,” the old woman said simply. “I don’t get many visitors in the dead of winter. And the Magician, well, he’s about the last person I would have suspected.”
“He came directly here. Called you a friend.”
The old woman nodded and added another crooked branch to the glowing coals. The little fire bathed her face in red, augmenting the shadowed lines of her wrinkles. Her head bobbed loosely on a turkey-wattled neck.
“Oh, yes … but from a long time ago. He saved my sister’s life. Drove the evil out of her body. It would have killed her, but for him. Mostly dead, she was … when the Magician came.”
Star Shell pulled the blanket back, moving with care so as not to awaken the others. She stepped carefully over her daughter’s bundled form and squatted across from the old woman before she extended cold hands to the fire.
“You’re a member of the Blue Duck Clan. Is that why you let us stay here? Because he saved your sister?”
The old woman shrugged like a hunching of bones. “Blue Duck? Now, yes, perhaps. But not then. I was of the Six Flutes Clan then. I didn’t come here until I married my fourth husband.”
The old woman’s head continued to wobble. “Husbands don’t last. I’ve worn out four of them.” “No,” Star Shell whispered abtently. “Husbands don’t last.”
“Four,” the old woman muttered, staring into the red coals.
“But imagine my surprise to see the Magician. Funny thing, that. To look up and see you people walking out of the forest as I was out saying prayers to the morning. And dragging a little girl around in wintertime. What’s the Magician coming to?”
“We shouldn’t stay here. We’ll be trouble for you. We’re not very popular with the Blue Duck Clan these days.”
“The Magician said something about that. Stay as long as you like.”
Star Shell frowned. “What about food? We’re only a moon past the winter solstice. We can’t eat all of your food.”
The old woman chuckled. “The great benefit of all those grandchildren and great-grandchildren is that they bring you food. I’ve more than enough. What I don’t eat by spring harvest goes to the mice.” Her gaze drifted off. “I always hated mice.
Fought them all of my life. Now they keep me company.”
Star Shell blushed. “I hope you forgive me. I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Eh? Oh. Which one?”
“How many names do you have?”
“A bunch. Mostly I was known as Clamshell.” She stared at the fire. “Wasn’t the name I was given at my coming of age, of course.” Her head seemed to wobble worse as she gazed into the fire. “Well, what do they expect.” Star Shell said, “Excuse me?”
“The men. They started calling me Clamshell.” She worked her toothless gums and grinned. “Because I could tighten up on them, you see. Used all of my muscles down there. Like working damp clay with powerful fingers. And they liked it. Other women didn’t give them that.”
Clamshell seemed to drift off. “So many fights. Five men … killed … They fought over me. Can I help it? I was beautiful then. Even more beautiful than you. Supple and strong.”
The old woman smiled and blinked. “What sort of life could a woman have, married to a Trader like that? Always gone. Only saw him once every two years. The rest of the time he was off on the rivers. Gone way west, you know. Way west, where the world rises to meet the sky. He carried obsidian. They buried him down in the Six Flutes’ mound. Covered him with his own cache of obsidian. Enough to fill a canoe.”
Clamshell scratched her head with her left hand. Her forearm was bent and knotted. She noticed Star Shell’s gaze and explained: “Second husband did that. Caught me locked together with a Trader from down south someplace.” She smacked her lips. “I always had a weakness for Traders.”
Star Shell huddled closer to the fire. How much of this was true? How much the wild imagination of a lonely old woman?
“You must have had quite a life.”
Clamshell’s head wobbled even more. “I’ve got few regrets … outside of getting old. These young men, they don’t look twice at me anymore. Although the women, they seem to get along better with me now. Used to have a terrible time with women, especially if I was sneaking off with their men at night.”
Another mouse scurried along the wall. The rodent stopped, hunched, nose quivering, before it shot into the shadows.
“Never deny your nature, girl. That’s the one truth I learned in life.” Clamshell scratched at her head again and reached for one of the small sticks from a dwindling pile. “Follow your soul and your talents. I was the most beautiful and desired woman in the world in my time. Men came from everywhere … some just to look.”