Wind-Scarred (The Will of the Elements, Book 1)

by Sky Corbelli

  Chapter 16

  Celebrate Good Times, Come On

  “Hawkins.” Stinging pain. “Hawkins!” More stinging pain. “Ezra!”

  Ezra managed to shield his face before Sarah could slap him again. He looked around in confusion for a second. Trees. Sarah. A decrepit old lumber mill. And he felt... singed? Everything came back to him in a rush. “Oh,” he said, then turned and retched, suddenly glad that Kirsten had kept him from eating. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mumbling in a dazed voice, “They blow up.”

  Sarah's concerned eyes softened momentarily, then snapped to anger. “Hawkins! That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen anyone do in my life!”

  She hugged him. Hard. Then she turned away very quickly, wiping at her eyes. Mat came out of the building, looking pale but functional, carrying two sobbing little girls who clung to him desperately. A third was being tugged along, hand latched to his belt, sniffling.

  He spotted Ezra and gave a roguish grin. “Not bad Ezra!” He called out. “Looks like I still got the girls though!” He started laughing a boisterous laugh which quickly devolved into a hacking cough. Sarah made a disgusted sound and walked over to take one of the children.

  Ezra got woozily to his feet, and his head reported that it might be twice its normal size and sloshing with liquid. Also, quite possibly on fire. “Ow,” he groaned, closing his eyes and putting a hand on his forehead. He stumbled forward a few steps, and his foot landed oddly on something hard, heavy and round. “Ow,” he agreed with his previous statement as he landed back on his rear. Looking around for the offending object, he found the hilt of Mat's sword. Picking it up, he noticed deep, smooth gashes cut into the metal, rendering it practically useless. He hefted it in his hand, thinking to toss it out into the forest, then gave it a thoughtful look and tucked it into his belt.

  A cold breeze blew through the forest, stirring leaves as it went. Sarah shivered as she walked up, little girl bundled in her jacket. “Winter's on the way. Getting cold up here,” she said quietly. Then she smirked down at Ezra where he sat. “Gonna join us Hawkins, or does one of these kids need to carry you back?”

  Ezra looked down his shirt. A few blackened holes marked where fire had found it. He had a feeling his face was an unholy mess. Yeah, he probably looked pathetic enough. Reaching out a hand toward her, he put on a winning smile. Sarah rolled her eyes as pulled him to his feet. A look of concern passed over her face. “You feeling okay?” She put the back of her hand to his head. It was blessedly cool. “Feels like you've got a little fever.”

  “Huh?” Ezra cracked an eye open. “Aside from what I can only assume is near-fatal head trauma, I feel fine.”

  “What did you do to my sword?” Mat cried, eyes finding the battered hilt thrust through Ezra's belt. “I leave you alone with it for five minutes... rookies! This is why you don't get nice things.”

  “No-one said there'd be swords. You're just lucky I knew which end to hold without someone telling me.”

  “Whiners,” Sarah grumbled with a long-suffering smile. “Both of you. And after I did all the clean up alone. Make yourself useful and take one of those kids from Mat or something, Hawkins.”

  They made their way slowly back to the village, the setting sun before them. The villagers must have seen them coming. Several families ran out, sobbing as they collected their children, bowing and thanking the exhausted team over and over. No-one seemed to question Sarah's sudden appearance and, quite frankly, Ezra couldn't say he blamed them. The little boy from earlier was standing behind his mother, big, serious eyes watching Ezra.

  “This,” Ezra said, kneeling down carefully, “is for you.” He handed over the broken hilt, which the boy accepted with a sense of gravity. “Always remember that any warrior's greatest weapon is his mind.”

  “Nerd.” Sarah's voice came through the communicator, but he had a feeling that she was smiling. Mat was grinning broadly at the boy's mother. It was too much. Ezra threw his head back and laughed, happier than he had ever been.

  ==

  “So there I was, pinned to the wall, dead to rights.” Back at the Guild, Mat dramatically recounted the day's deeds to a small gathering in a conference room on the first floor, surrounded by barrels of apples and jugs of apple whiskey, wine and cider. “When out of the shadows walks Ezra!” Mat thrust his half-empty glass of whiskey in Ezra's direction.

  “Ezra!” cheered the room, raising their glasses and drinking. Ezra smiled sheepishly. Gal punched him lightly in the shoulder, grinning.

  “He starts in on this, like, prepared speech, a monago... molonaug...” Mat squinted his eyes in consternation, stumbling over the word.

  “Monologue!” shouted Sarah, erupting into a giggling fit.

  “Monologue!” Mat echoed with drunken certainty, pointing to her. “About how foolish the man was. How this was inevitable.” He jumped up on the table, posing grandly, “'We are the terror that lurks in your nightmares and makes you wet the bed! You should be trembling! We are the Guild of Sundry, and I am Ezra!'”

  “Ezra!” everyone cheered again, throwing back more drinks.

  “And the wind-scarred, the wind-scarred, he's all like, 'Noooo' and starts flinging wind around, trying to like, protect himself or something. And what does Ezra do? He brings the sword up,” Mat mimed bringing a sword up in front of him, “looks back at the two of us, smiles, and whispers 'Let's get dangerous.' Then he freaking jumps into the wind, my sword in his hand, and starts flying toward the sucker. And then! And then he throws this match at the poor schmuck and BOOM! The whole thing goes up into a thundering fireball!”

  Gal scooted over next to Ezra and cuddled up against him, listening. His face heated and he looked down at her, smiling as Mat continued.

  “And this thundering scarred, he's just flipping out. He starts screaming–”

  “And crying!” yelled Sarah between laughing breaths. “Like a girl!”

  “Screaming and crying!” Mat pointed meaningfully back to Sarah again as she pounded her glass on the table. “And he's all like, 'Curse you Ezra!'”

  “Ezra!”

  “'Curse you and your ridiculously handsome friend for softening me up!'” The room devolved into a fit of laughter. “And my boy here, he literally flies in and...” Mat performed a lunging stab on the table. “Then he grabs the scarred, pulls him close, and looks directly into his eyes.” Mat brought up two fingers in front of his eyes to demonstrate. “'Who are you?' the wind-scarred whispers. 'Hawkins' he replies, cool as you like, then he pushes the wind-scarred back and just waits there, right at the edge of the death surge. 'Ezra Hawkins.'”

  “Ezra!” The cheer exploded through the room again.

  “So we save the day, bring back the kids, and the town throws this freaking party for us. Food and drink and girls galore. It's crazy! And Sarah's over in a corner, drinking five hillbillies under the table, and I've got four girls–”

  “At least! Four at least!” Sarah howled amidst bursts of laughter.

  “Four at least! And they're all fighting over which one gets to bring me food and sit on my lap and feed me. And Ezra...”

  “Ezra!”

  “Well, let me tell you, that boy can hold his drink. In fact, if you look carefully, I believe he's still holding the same one!” Ezra blushed again and took a small, polite sip while the room roared with laughter.

  The door slid open. A slim, dark skinned young man with tribal tattoos on his face and a buzzed haircut walked in. “Where's this Legacy shyster who thinks he's good enough for our Doe?” he said in mock menace.

  Gal rolled her eyes, then quirked a smile, fluttering her eyelashes at the newcomer. “Aw, Sebastian, you know that I'll always have a special place for you in my life. Right next to the punching bag.”

  Sebastian grinned. “Like you could touch me, teammate.”

  “I'm sorry, but I need a man who can take on a wind-scarred with nothing but a match and still blush like a virgin when I look at him j
ust right.” She threw Ezra a smoldering look. His face turned beet red, and he tried to hold his cup up to cover for it.

  The rest of the room erupted in cat calls and laughing jeers. “I'll drink to that!” Sebastian gave Ezra a friendly clap on the shoulder, grabbing an apple and a glass of whiskey as he went by.

  “As will I!” Sarah responded loudly. She tipped back her glass then slammed it to the table, empty. Her head immediately followed, and a loud snore prompted a fresh burst of merriment from the crowded room.

  An hour or so later the party had died down and everyone began to head out. Mat left carrying Sarah. “Not the first time I've had to sneak her into the Hughes' place dead drunk.” He winked at Ezra. “Won't be the last.”

  As he left, Mr. Blair walked into the room. He nodded to those remaining, who suddenly decided they had more important places to be. A few muttered 'sir's and hasty salutes, and Ezra found himself alone with Gal and Blair.

  “Well,” Blair said mildly. “Quite the exciting first day on the job.”

  Ezra grinned as Mr. Blair checked a jug of apple cider and poured himself a glass. Gal grabbed an apple and perched easily on a table, crunching into it. She held out a hand to Blair, smiling mischievously at Ezra.

  Mr. Blair sighed and pulled the pair of sunglasses from his pocket, depositing them reluctantly in Gal's waiting hand. “Now we're even, Ezzy.” She put on the glasses and continued to chew away at her apple.

  “Indeed. I find myself thinking that perhaps I will be betting on you next time, Agent Hawkins. By all accounts, you acquitted yourself admirably in a situation that should have resulted in both your and your teammates' deaths.” The man bowed his head. “We are deeply in your debt, young man, and the only thing I can say is thank you. If there is anything I can do, any boon I might grant you, please ask and I will do everything in my power to see it is done.”

  Gal beamed at him from her perch. Ezra stared at Mr. Blair in stunned silence. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, then said, “Well, there is one thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “I want... I would like to be able to study them. The people outside that is. The elementalists, the wind-scarred and the fire-kissed and all of them. I want to have the chance to try and understand how they get their powers, maybe even why they can control the elements to begin with.”

  Blair looked at him directly, eyes serious. He nodded, as if considering it. “What you are asking for... I could open up the mission reports to you. Let you read them over, see what conclusions you can come to. It would be a great deal of work, and it would mean a lot to all of us who deal with them. Are you sure that is something you want to take on yourself?”

  Ezra considered for a moment, then returned Blair's steady gaze. “I'm sure, sir.”

  Mr. Blair smiled again and extended his hand toward Ezra. Ezra took it and they shook. Gal made a disgusted noise, whipping off the glasses and throwing them onto the table. “Freaking science Legacy geek. 'Oh, look at me, I'm Ezra Hawkins and I love work and research and not helping sexy girls win bets.' Hope he chokes on the first strucking page.” She muttered angrily as she stormed out of the room, turning to glare at Ezra as the door opened. “You're back to owing me, Ezzy!” She whirled and was gone.

  Mr. Blair laughed richly as Ezra took another sheepish sip of his cider.