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

by Sky Corbelli

  Chapter 38

  Robert Ralson

  There were certainly nicer bars in Sanctuary. Ezra knew. Gal had danced him through most of them. The place Sarah picked out didn't have any fancy lights announcing it to the world. There was no music pumping life into the air. In fact, there weren't even any other people, aside from the balding bartender of indeterminate age. He nodded to Sarah as they walked in.

  Despite the lack of bells and whistles, the quiet little barroom was pleasant. Solid looking, polished hardwood was in abundance. Sarah slid up to the bar and Ezra took a comfortable stool beside her, inspecting the bar top closely as he did. This... this looks like real wood. He sat back, staring. He'd never even seen real, non-synthetic wood until he'd left Sanctuary. How did this place manage to get... Ezra's eyes widened as he turned to see the bartender frown at him then and Sarah an inquisitive look.

  She snorted indelicately and tapped two fingers to the counter. “He's cool, Sean.” The bartender, Sean, nodded again and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

  Ezra grinned. It was one of the bottles they'd brought back from Arborlin. Two glasses of the rich amber liquid materialized in front of them, and Sarah threw hers back in one efficient swallow. Ezra took a small sip from his glass. “Hawkins,” she said without looking in his direction, “you drink like a man tonight, or I'll knock you out and dump that down your throat.”

  Ezra blinked at Sarah, then at the drink in front of him. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and drank the liquor in a swift swallow. His throat informed him that he had just lit it on fire as he coughed and gasped, eyes watering and head reeling. Sarah smiled a little, tapped two fingers on the bar again, and their glasses were promptly refilled. Ezra carefully followed suit as Sarah took a more conservative drink this time, then stared at her glass as it rested on the bar in silence.

  “We met in the catalyst lab,” she began a few moments later, quietly, as if each word as made of cut glass – precious, delicate, sharp and painful. “Rob and I. Father didn't want me taking any shortcuts. Hard work and long hours, no special treatment.” A sad little laugh escaped her lips. “He didn't know who I was. Thought I was just another lab grunt, mindlessly fashioning a piece for the great puzzle that only the glorious Hughes family could put together.” Another sip, slowing down, collecting her thoughts. “He was just... nice. To me. Wasn't afraid to tease me or laugh when I made a mistake. He didn't worry about offending me with his music or get scared when I asked him a question. It was nice. I... I didn't tell him. About who I was. Instead, we went and had coffee and talked about things that we wanted to do. You wouldn't know, but all he ever wanted was to see the ocean. He'd read about it, seen old videos... but something about it just called to him.” Sarah's eyes glistened, taking on a far away look. “We would make plans about how we were going to take the space elevator up high enough to see over the Barrier Mountains, keep going until we could see the ocean. Just the two of us. A daring adventure.”

  “Sounds like he was happy in the Guild.”

  Sarah flashed him a spiteful look. “Just listen,” she snapped. Ezra took another swallow of his whiskey and shut his stupid mouth.

  Sarah finished her drink and tapped her glass, then continued. “My father came to the lab one day. Expressed his concern that I 'wasn't living up to my potential.' I was terrified that Rob would hate me for lying to him... but he acted like nothing was different. It drove me crazy. I spent weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to start behaving like everyone else. Then he told me his new plan for going to see the ocean, just like we were still two grunts, slaving away and dreaming our dreams.” She blinked a few times, shaking her head in wonder. “I think that's when I fell in love with him.”

  Sarah took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “I moved up, of course. Reaction observations, super-solid theory, everything that the Hughes heiress would need to continue the Legacy. But I would always go have coffee with Rob. I was young and in love and stupid. I thought I could help him. Help him move up in the world, do more interesting things, maybe even work with me when I became the head of the family. I tried... tried to teach him things. Little things, so that he could impress his supervisors. Get out of the catalyst lab. Maybe discover something of his own. Maybe be with–” Her voice choked off and she quickly took another sip of her liquor.

  It was several moments before she continued, and then it was in a small, quiet voice. “Someone overheard us talking about Choshkian bonding conditions while we waited for our coffee. Rob was fired the next day for trying to steal family secrets. A black mark. No-one would touch him; he was out of science forever. I went to him, a complete wrecking, begging him to forgive me.” A thin line of tears traced its way down Sarah's cheek, pattering to the wooden bar before she wiped them away. “He said... he said there was nothing to forgive. That he'd be fine, and was just happy to know me, to know that I cared about him. It was overwhelming. That night I stormed into my father's study. I yelled at him. He yelled back. I said things... things that I shouldn't have said. The next day, he officially named my little sister heir to the Hughes Legacy. My studies were cut off, but I didn't care. Rob found me sitting on the roof of the catalyst lab, staring at the space elevator. He didn't say anything. Just handed me a coffee and sat down next to me.” She glanced at Ezra's half-full tumbler, and he hurriedly emptied it, wincing as his throat burst into a fresh blaze of agony. He caught Sean's eye and tapped his glass.

  Sarah nodded, satisfied. “We tried to break into the Sanctuary Center to get to the space elevator a week later. Got caught before we even made it to the first checkpoint.” She raised her drink in a little salute to Sean, who smiled as he refilled Ezra's glass. “The Guild. They'd been watching, of course. Knew most of our 'big plans' better than we did. It didn't take any convincing, really. Over the next year, we watched the ocean at sunrise and sunset, gaped as it rage under a furious storm, saw it sparkle beneath a cloudless sky and shimmer on a moonless night. Together. Always together.” The corners of her mouth turned up in a little smile. “There's a place out on some islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. A single, enormous tree, seven meters around at least, growing out of a dead volcano, surrounded by these jagged mirrors of obsidian. It lives in its own little bubble of temperate climate. The locals call it the Kayla Tree. They consider it a sacred place. Rob convinced me to climb it with him. From the branches, we could see the ocean all around on every side.”

  Sarah cleared her throat again and took another fortifying gulp of whiskey. “About a month before your little stunt, we went out on a routine mission.” She spoke softly, eyes fixed on the bar, not looking at anything. “Trouble with a fire-kissed. Tame location, one that was checked up on regularly. We found the contact tied to a chair, electrical burns at his temples. A bunch of the townsfolk tried to ambush us, but we fought our way free.” Her grip on the glass tightened. “A thunder-struck hit the skiff. Blew it to pieces. We got a smoke screen up and managed to evade him. He toasted half the town looking for us. We laid low, slipped away after dark, and trekked back to the port.”

  Ezra could hear her grinding her teeth. “There was another blighted thunder-struck, waiting there for us,” she spat. “He thundering knew where we were going. We tried to call for help, but he had some kind of interference running. Rob made the plan. Mat superheated the water in our canteens then threw them like grenades. I shot them out of the air all around the strucking bastard. He nearly killed himself trying to fire back, then Rob closed on him with an insulated knife. We connected to Sanctuary and bolted for the portal.” The glass creaked as her fingers turned white, gripping it hard. “That's when the third thunder-struck stepped out from behind a tree. He grabbed the death spark from one we'd taken down and flattened everything. The whole goddamn world exploded. I got knocked five meters by the blast, easy, and couldn't sort out my head from my ass. They said I must've been partially grounded, which is why it hit me like a truck instead of roasting me to my boo
ts. Mat got to me and pulled me clear. Rob never had a chance.”

  Sarah released the glass and wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “And that's the story, Hawkins.” She finished her drink and glanced at Sean. He gave her an appraising look then shrugged and filled her glass again. “So, now that I feel nice and horrible,” she said with a smirk, “your turn.”

  “Oh,” Ezra squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, seven years ago, my parents and I–”

  “Blighted hell, no!” Sarah interrupted. “I don't need your grief. Something funny! Preferably where you look stupid.”

  Ezra blinked at that, then grinned. “All right then. Do you know Mitzi Parnasus?”

  ==

  “And so there I was, butt naked, standing in the middle of this broken terrarium with a stick in one hand and a rock in the other, Kirsten glaring at me as she tried to get the spider juice off her shoe, and the cook walks in with this big pot singing, 'I make the spicy meatballs for everyone!'”

  Sarah pounded the bar. “And they were spicy! They were only spicy because, ha, ha, because–” She deteriorated into a fresh round of hooting laughter, slapping Ezra on the back. “Hawkins, you're all right,” Sarah slurred with the total assurance of the truly drunk. “Even though you're a thundering stupid Legacy half-wit who's too dumb to know when to be afraid, you're all right.”

  “Hey now,” Ezra said with mock seriousness. “I take exception at that remark. Why, I have it on good authority that I'm so afraid of my own shadow that I have to sneak spy devices into every...” His voice trailed off as he bolted to his feet, thoughts dodging bubbles of drunkenness to form an idea. “Struck me,” he whispered. “Spy devices. Why didn't I think of that?”