by P. G. Thomas
They were uncertain what time it was when the laughter woke them. Looking over the edge, they saw black-clad men standing beside several open metal doors, who pulled out young men wearing metal masks, having bound hands and feet, who they then dragged to one of the barred doors.
Hope transformed, “They’re Bastards.”
Changing back to his naked form, Sam looked to the ceiling, “I know and from Alron.”
“We need to do something!”
“Hope, we found the triplets. We will go back, telling Aunt Lauren and Uncle Ryan, before we tell them about this place.”
“Can we fly back?”
“If we could be owls, yes, but you know eagles have terrible night vision. Being wolves gives us options, as we can attack or transform. After we spend the day here, we’ll head out when the suns go down.” Then, changing into otters, both went back to sleep.
*******
The next morning Lauren was pacing when everybody arrived. “What’re we doing today?”
After John and Gayne both announced they had to go to the school, they filled their plates and mouths with food.
“I don’t mean you two.”
Steve finished his sip of bean juice, “Zymse.”
While the name stopped Lauren cold in her tracks, it started a fire in her eyes, “It’s been a week since we’ve seen my daughter. An effing week! And Sam and Hope are still missing! What have we done? Attacked by trollmares, saved a forest, and started a fire.” She turned to him, “When you were in the service, did they give you merit badges for lame?”
Merit badges, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? “Don’t start with me. There’s a process we need to follow to have a successful mission that starts with info!”
Lauren glared at him, “Is that a military acronym? Inactive non-participation fruitless—opportunity.” Then she turned to John, “What’s happening faster? This universe expanding or us being closer to my daughters?”
John continued to take a long sip from his hot bean juice, as the storm that angered outside had found its way inside.
“A week, a damn week! We’ve been here for a freaking month, but what do we have? Nothing! No, wait, we lost two more!”
“Lauren, please, calm down,” begged Ryan.
They could all feel the frustration in her voice, “I’ve been calm for a month, and it really doesn’t seem to be working, so let’s try a little bit of rage to motivate everybody!”
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Steve.
Lauren’s eyes flared open, “What’s wrong? What’s right? Is that the correct answer to his question John?”
Without thinking, he spoke, “Technically, it’s not considered proper to reply to a question with the same.”
“Would a better question be this; why haven’t you figured out how to kill the root?”
“Yes,” he said, biting down on his lower lip.
“I want results, and I want them now.” Squeezing the staff, Lauren’s knuckles went white from the constricted blood flow, “I want this world back to the way we left it, blue skies and happy people, but most of all, I want my daughters back.” Turning, she stormed into the front room, followed quickly by Ryan.
Eric turned to Steve, “Can I join you guys today?”
“This is crazy, stupid.” Everybody turned to Logan, “She’s right. A month subtract zero results equals nothing, notta, knot. The big El Zippo. To use militarian terms, primary mission equals finding my nieces, and guess what, we know who has one, so I’m willing to give you odds that he has the other two.”
Steve tried to correct Logan, “Military terms, not militarian.”
“Well, if the military man was equally good with planning a rescue, as he is with his grammar, then maybe he would be holding one of my nieces, and their parents would be holding the other two!”
“We have a plan,” advised Steve.
“Is that an acro-nim-wit for something else, like, like, I don’t know.”
“Look, you little pheasant plucker.” Then Steve lowered his voice, “Since we may not be able to find the triplets on our own, we need to help Mother heal. That’s plan number one, but if you’re going to be a number two, then you need to calm down, as we don’t need this kind of crap.”
Logan headed to the front hall, grabbed a raincoat, continuing to the door.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” called out Eric, chasing him into the hall, “but you need to go cool off before you say something dumb.”
“Like anybody here would understand that.”
“If you do anything stupid, I’ll find you,” declared Eric.
They all heard his response from the hall, “No you won’t because I’ll go hide with the triplets.” Then they all heard the front door slam shut.
*******
With Gayne driving the carriage out of the stable, John noticed the abnormally strong high-altitude winds blowing the angry storm clouds to the east. Wondering what kind of anomaly could produce such a strange weather pattern, he remembered Lauren’s words. ‘I want blue skies.’ Magic! What the hell’s in that staff?
*******
Mirtza with Eric drove the carriage through the clearing storm. Inside, Steve looked at Panry and the Darkpaye version of Ryan, “What the hell happened this morning? A couple of days ago, I had to knock some sense into you, which seems to have worked. Now your wife?”
“First,” Ryan began, “You didn’t knock any sense into me. I know who has one of my daughters. Second, after your children are abducted to a strange planet, we’ll compare notes. Yesterday, Lauren saw unwed teenage mothers trying to pawn their unwanted children off at an orphanage.”
“Her anger makes sense now,” replied Steve.
“Those that are not able to unburden at a safe sanctuary seek other options,” explained Panry, “but I think Gayne does not tell all.”
Steve gave his head a shake, “What?”
“Some of the orphanages sell their charges,” began Ryan, “and other girls just give them away, but I think Panry is right, and I won’t mention the different ways that I can think of. My wife I understand, as this world ripped something precious from her hands, which she desperately wants back. Here, as girls line up to give away the same, this world won’t allow her to focus on her daughters. Instead, it tells her to look to the west, to see the eastern horizon.”
“That is not possible,” said Panry.
“I know, but, at the end of every day, she cries herself to sleep, and in the middle of the night, I hear her call out to Samantha, Hope, or Brooke. Her nightmares bring visions of what she dreams of every day. In her head, while she understands we need to help heal Mother, but in her heart, she wants to kick in the door that locks away those three precious girls. Besides, you really don’t want to know what makes me smile when I dream.”
“I get that, but Logan?” asked Steve.
Ryan shrugged his shoulders, “No idea.”
“Bastard and Earth Mother, their connection is powerful, and I think more than a womb they share. Innocents hurt, so sister’s influence both he feels.”
Chapter 6
John had spent most of the morning at the school where, once again, he had noticed the reduced size of the root. Staring at the large chalkboard map of Calicon, he began to brainstorm how to deliver H2O2. Even though it was still early in the day, he opened the satchel that held his cloak, pulling out a bottle of honey wine. “Hello, Inspiration.” Popping the cork, he took a long drink, “When Gayne went looking for Mother’s forests, he just looked for the tallest trees, which would be Ironwood. Therefore, any forest assassins would do the same, planting one of those roots, which is effectively a self-regulating poison. I guess if it stayed in the ground long enough, going beyond the boundaries of the forest, it would kill other plants, but Zymse most likely has some sort of pesticide to kill it—or he doesn’t care.” John shook his head, “There could be hundreds, thousands of forests out there, and they might not all be poisoned, so how do I find
them? With the second cloak, I might be able to task the magic but what then? While satellites would go a long way to help finding them, here you would have to be a god to see that much real estate.” He set the bottle down, smiled, “It’s about time you showed up, Inspiration. Sister knows where the forest are, as she has been making it rain to save them, but in fact, she’s killing them. If I could explain hydrogen peroxide to her, she should be able to alter the rain. It’s in her domain: water and oxygen.” After donning his cloak, he concentrated on a beaker of water for the next hour, converting it into the desired liquid, and every fifteen minutes, he would place a drop on his finger. When it burned, he dumped out the contents of the wine bottle, carefully pouring the new liquid into it. Placing the bottle and the root into the satchel, he pulled off the portal bracelet from Gayne, dropped the medallion through, and stepped back into the house.
*******
That morning, after most had left, Lauren headed upstairs for a bath, hoping the running water would mask her angered and confused crying from any that remained. When it seemed like her tears exceeded the volume of water in the tub, she sought comfort in the warm liquid, which reminded her of a child in a womb, causing her to start crying again. An hour later, the water now cold, she forced the stopper out with her toe, allowing it to drain. The entire time thinking the tub was her future, the cold liquid her hopes, and the drain was the unknown that fed on them. When her future was void of hope, she raised herself from the tub, dried off, before heading to the ground floor.
“Does Earth Mother hurt?”
Lauren looked at Jasmine, damn elf hearing. “Earth Mother is fine.” Then she headed out to the patio. “It’s about time it stopped raining.” Jasmine joined her when she sat down at the table, “Are there many female Earth Guards?”
“No, I am the first.”
“Why’s that?”
“Even though elf does not write words in granite, traditions many elf honors like words carved in rocks by dwarf.”
I guess it’s the same everywhere. “When was the last time you heard from Mother? Before she told you to find me.”
“It has been years, Earth Mother. When trollmares in Newlands first attacked her children. Before that, she was quiet but still heard.”
“What do the other Earth Mothers think?”
“There are no others, as you are the only Earth Mother that I know of, other than whom Panry searches for.”
Lauren lowered her head to the ground, “Beyond the two Earth Mothers in Alron, me, and my daughter, there are no more?”
Jasmine nodded, wiping away a tear, “Not that I know of.”
“What about Earth Guards?”
“I only know of two squads, and one is mine.”
“They’re all gone?”
Jasmine nodded.
“How many?”
“I do not know. While Earth Mothers and Daughters were great, Earth Guards were six-fold.”
What the hell is happening here? Lauren rolled the shortening, gnarled staff in her hands, “The last time, it seemed so easy compared to this. There was an invading army, traitors, and spies. Hell, if I saw Korg walking by right now, I might even give him a hug. There was Mother, I think she helped, but I still don’t know to this day. Now her children are scared, starving, and Zymse is offering them some sort of salvation. How do I make them believe in Mother again?” I can’t build them a place to stay or protect them from the elements. I can cure the addicts but with just me. What do I do? She looked at the staff, how many more Earth Daughters can I create before my hands are empty?
“You did not eat this morning. Would you like some food?”
With that one simple sentence, an idea flashed before Lauren. I can feed them. It might not be like having a roof over their heads or a warm bed, yet a full belly could chase away the depression that now stalks them. “A cup of bean juice, please.” She then drove the staff into the wet ground, sending the magic into the Bright Coast. An image started to form in her mind showing the population density of the town. The roads easily silhouetted by the absence of the small green lights representing the people, and she saw those who worked north of the Key, as the black void contrasted the opposing southern rich green image. Smelling the bean juice, Lauren’s concentration broke. Sipping from it, she thought of the different ways to feed the population. I can’t plant seeds all over the Bright Coast, as it’ll take too long. Even if I could, what’re my choices? Fruits and vegetables? I can’t really grow a meat tree—or can I? No, that would be wrong. Even if I could grow fields of grain, there are no mills to process it, so I need something simple. Looking at the clay mug in her hand, she saw numerous hand-painted images of various roots on it. Remembering hearing Mirtza’s words about the crops he had grown in his youth, in her mind, she could see the plants painted on the mug. The orange roots–carrots, small spherical roots – potatoes, large round roots – turnips. There were other images: parsnips, rutabagas, sweet potatoes, and a dozen more that she was unable to name. Setting down the mug, she grasped the staff with both hands, thinking of the vegetable images in her mind. Remembering her father, of how he had grafted eight varieties of apples onto one tree, and on a second, he had grafted branches that gifted their family cherries first, followed by plums, and then peaches later in the year. Merging all of the vegetable images into one plant, she added fruits like delicious melons, tasty berries, and more. Hoping the staff understood, she concentrated on the ground, forcing the plant that did not exist to be. In her mind, she saw the small root take shape as it grew around the patio. Then, before her eyes, sprouts pushed up, allowing small flowers to blossom. Compelled by the staff, as bees began to pollinate the new buds, Lauren continued to concentrate on the root, sending it out under the Bright Coast, until a voice broke her trance.
Having been watching her for an hour, when the boredom had finally overtaken Jasmine, she had picked up a large flat piece of wood from the patio edge, carving idly away at it for hours.
“What’re you doing?”
When the voice broke Lauren’s concentration, she noticed the large pile of ash at her feet. Realizing her simple idea had cost more than expected, she quickly lowered the short staff on a diagonal across her lap, hoping its actual height would remain unseen, and with her foot, pushed the pile of ashes in between the patio stones. Turning to Jasmine, thinking it was the elf that had called out, she saw the piece of wood in front of her Earth Guard captain. From her angle, even though it looked like a sun casting a shadow, it was absent of a person. Then she saw John. “I’m not doing anything,” but shaking off her disorientation, she saw the three suns high above. “What’re you doing back here? Where’s your Earth Guard?”
“Shoot, I forgot about them. Look, I have a plan to kill the root.”
“It’s about time.”
When John sat down, one of the house servants brought him a mug of bean juice. Taking a long drink, he drowned the words he wanted to say. It’s not that damn easy, Earth Bitch. Instead, he checked his anger. “Look, I know how to kill it, but I need your help. I need to find Tranquil, so she can call Sister.”
“How?”
“The last time we were here, Ryan found you with a piece of wood from your staff. I’m hoping the same will take me back to the First Forest.”
“Then?”
“I explain molecular reconstruction of atoms to a god.”
“If that doesn’t work?”
I don’t know. “I have a few other ideas, but if Sister can help, well, it’s the fastest way to heal Mother, so we can find your daughters.”
“What do you need?”
Pulling off the gold bracelet, he remembered the words Tranquil had spoken; let no other Earth Mother touch it. Even though John never considered himself to be one, he felt it best to heed the warning, “I need you to drop a piece into this.”
The mention of her daughters brought forth an image in Lauren’s mind, one not gifted by the staff, and pulling off a large piece of dried bark, she
dropped it through the bracelet. Raising the golden object to a horizontal position, after a ring shimmered forward, John grabbed his satchel before stepping through it.
*******
That morning, Logan, who had only been walking down the wet street for fifteen minutes, encountered a carriage looking for a new fare. Although he had no coins, he asked the driver to take him to the pizzeria, and arriving, he went inside, demanding the necessary amount from Iljam. When he went up to the fourth floor in search of Krisp, seeing Croy, he asked to talk to him in private, so he led Logan to a small bedroom that appeared to be a makeshift office.
After Croy sat down, Logan began, “When we freed you from the wagon that night, they were hunting the Bastards, weren’t they?”
I don’t remember seeing you there. Croy remained silent.
Logan began to rub his temples, “You said the Bastards would help. How did you know?”
Still Croy remained quiet.
“Look, I want to help.” Then Logan began to roll up his sleeves, “I’m the first Bastard,” and he showed his tattoos.
“So?”
Grabbing Croy’s left arm, Logan started to push the sleeve up, but before the young Earth Guard could pull his arm back, Logan saw the bottom of the blue feather tattoo, “You’re a Bastard?”
Anger exploded on Croy’s face, “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” He pushed his sleeve back down, “That is what some said. When my life began, it killed my mom or so I heard. Dad, no idea, so am I a bastard, an orphan, or both? I have no idea. The decorations on my arms, I did them myself to scare off others.”