Free Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) by Honor Raconteur

essence created a large cap for his stump. It was solid, a
polished dark wood, with one wide notch in it so he could slip a shield’s strap
into it. Aside from its fighting ability and using it to protect his stump, it
had no other merit. “How much better?”
    “I can make it so you can grab things and lock onto it.”
    How he would manage that, Erik had no idea. But he’d seen
this man’s handiwork throughout the Hall. He had no doubt that if Beirly said
it could be done, the man would pull it off somehow. The smuggler tried to take
advantage of his split attention and squirm free. Erik leaned on him a little
harder, making the man gasp for breath, but otherwise ignored him. “In exchange
for a better hand, what do you want?”
    “You stay until we can find a new enforcer.” Beirly said
this straight forwardly.
    Was that all? Erik was inclined to stay longer anyway, just
to work off the debt he’d incurred with Siobhan. “Deal.”
    Beirly relaxed into a grin. “Didn’t have to think about
that, did you? Well, that’s fine.” Dropping into a chair, he got comfortable.
“Well, while we wait for Shi to return, let’s talk about your new hand. “You
might want to let up on the man first, as I don’t think he’s breathing.”
    “That’s fine. He’s a waste of oxygen anyway.”
    ӜӜӜ
    “How does it feel? Does it chaff?”
    Erik twisted his arm in different directions, trying out his
new wooden hand. It fit like a glove over his stump, with a leather strap on the
forearm keeping it in place. Beirly had carved it as if the hand was in a
closed fist, with only the thumb detached and moveable, and for something that
was supposed to be temporary, it had an amazing amount of detail whittled in.
It actually looked like his hand. “No, no chaffing.” Whatever the man had lined
it with on the inside was soft as butter. Lifting it closer to his face, he
studied it in detail. “This is amazing,” he marveled. “Have you thought of
making these for a living?”
    “Not until I started on yours,” Beirly admitted frankly,
beaming. He was pleased his work was so well appreciated. “But I’m thinking I
could make a good sideline business out of it. This is just temporary, mind, so
don’t get attached to it. I figured out how to make a metal version with moving
fingers and thumb so you can latch onto things with it.”
    So this was nothing more than a mockup of the metal version
he’d make later? It seemed too elaborate for that, but Beirly wasn’t one to do
anything in halfway measures.
    Curious, he slammed his new hand into the other, testing how
it felt against flesh. A slow smile took over his face as his real hand tingled
in pain. “I could do some damage with this.”
    Beirly looked up at him uncertainly. “Come again?”
    “It’s a useful weapon you’ve given me.” He tried to explain
it so the man wouldn’t think he’d try the new hand out on him next.
“Even without the sword, if danger approaches any of you, I can combat it with
the help of this hand.”
    The shorter man sank back onto his work stool and just
stared at Erik for a long moment. No one else was in the workroom and Beirly
seemed to realize he could take advantage of this privacy to probe. (Neither
man seemed brave enough to try it in front of Siobhan.)
    “Wolfinsky. You seem dead set on acting as an enforcer for
us. But Siobhan clearly didn’t ask you to do that. So why are you?”
    Erik was not a man of words. He fumbled for a moment, trying
to find the right way to explain. “I’m not good at many things. But fighting,
protecting someone, that I excel at. It’s the only way I have of repaying you.”
    Beirly lowered his head and stared at the floor for a long
moment. “Is that why.”
    “I was standing at the edge of an abyss,” he said softly.
“You and Siobhan and Grae saved me from that. I should be doing something more,
something grander to repay the grace you’ve given me. But I can’t think of
anything else I