Mink squinted, but couldn’t make out any specific features of Rift Ridge without the aid of Tunnel Vision. In the distant haze on the horizon, somewhere in the cavern beneath the plateau, his parents guarded an enormous crystal of formidable power. While there was still so much distance to cross before he could reach them, Mink took comfort in being able to guess where they were. His daydreams took a turn toward returning home with his parents, and finding a reason for Gyov to come with them.
SERGEANT MAKUNAM says you know which way to go.” Corporal Alré appeared beside Mink, taking in the view and breaking his reverie. “He says you talked to him about it last night.”
“Yes’m, a valley ahead to the north.” Mink studied the slope of the wilderness from their vantage point. The jagged line of the range’s shadow cut the valley in two as the morning sun rose behind them to the east. Their destination sat in enough darkness that a potential path was difficult to see.
“So, Blankey, you lead the way.” Alré challenged rudely, adopting Mink’s unwanted nickname and causing him to cringe. He caught Tralé sending a sidelong glance of disapproval to the Corporal, encouraging him with the show of support.
Once Mink gained his bearings, he could tell that the angle of the slope heading down the opposite side of the mountain was much less steep than what they’d just traveled. It favored a long, straight downward trip to the northern side of the basin below. The valley was difficult to see through all of the trees surrounding it on both sides. That should make it easier for them to go undetected. As an added benefit, the smaller mountains to their west would soon block the view of their descent.
He indicated a line down to the left of them that hugged along the mountain. “We should head down in that direction. It’ll be okay to take a direct path, don’t you think?” Mink did his best to come off as someone working with others to reach a mutual agreement. The members of his Cell looked and nodded at each other, and then down at the rest of the group still making their way up the trail.
“As long as they can keep that wagon from barreling down on us, I’m cool with it. It’ll be nice to head downhill for a change.” Mouké stretched his back, limited by one hand partially embedded in his scooter. He and Tralé scanned their pending route to account for the number of trees they would need to move.
“So, bro, wanna race?” Tralé pressed.
“Don’t I always?” Mouké looked back at Alré. “Corporal Alré, do you give us permission to get off this rotting mountain as soon as possible?”
Alré checked the distance to Rift Ridge once more. “Please do.”
Without further delay, Tralé and Mouké started their scooters down the hill. They couldn’t speed up their chants without rendering them ineffective, so they added specifications to March Root that would move multiple trees at once,
“Wood appears to have life with me.
I make it move, fight, bend, and dance.
My hands implement my intent.
I use the target like a tool.
Touching root or branch move as one.
Trees stay together in a group.
My reach extends through their contact.
I move Wood through land like Water.
It remains separate from me.
I cannot kill my Element.
I control as Atriarb does.
Animate as soon as I reach.”
Mink’s hair blew on his brow as they sped down the mountain. On several occasions, he felt sure that Tralé wouldn’t finish his chant in time to move the trees before they crashed into them. The speed and uncertainty added a welcome thrill to contrast with the monotony of the previous day. Mouké wove around the trenches cut by the trees as best he could, while Tralé opted for jumping them in a more direct route. Mink flinched, worried that the landings would jar him loose.
Tralé lost a bit of ground to Mouké when he got distracted searching for different music instead of March Rooting trees. Settling on “Best Step Aside,” Tralé resumed his pace. Mink became personally invested in beating Mouké. He bobbed his head to the song, and helped to steer by shifting his weight on the scooter. Tralé, visibly pleased, pulled his steering hand free. They couldn’t listen to music anymore with Tralé’s hand detached, but the exhilaration of free falling down through the forest had a cadence all its own. The needled pergnuts became more scarce as the forest shifted to become predominately comprised of rolled-leaf specklenut trees.
Mink steered the scooter on his own by leaning left and right, past Mouké, Sapo, and a couple of trees Mouké had missed as they rushed into the forest. Using both hands, Tralé moved trees in front and behind them simultanously. They had such a commanding lead, Tralé slammed his steering hand back into the scooter, slid it to a sideways stop, moved the couple of specklenut trees he had left behind, Animated a couple of his brother’s trees for him, resumed play of the music, and sent a big smile to a fuming Mouké, still sixty to seventy yards uphill.
Continuing their downhill race, Tralé further orchestrated the trees to shake to the music as he cleared them from the path. He looked back once to check his lead on Mouké and gave Mink a satisfied nod. For his part, Mink couldn’t be more proud. They were going to win the race because of his contribution. This kinship with Tralé felt like the closest thing he had to his friendship with Dreh.
When they reached level ground, Tralé arranged two dozen trees into a ring which he called the Winner’s Circle. Thousands of wild specklenuts littered the area. Mink guessed they would never be made into nutty like their cousins in Octernal. Sapo Slip Skated in a slalom fashion through the trees Mouké had yet to move, slowing to a stop in Tralé and Mink’s circle.
“Cheaters,” Mouké complained as he pulled up with Alré, who seemed to be enjoying herself for the first time. She actually seemed happy. Everyone caught their breath and laughed while they looked back up the mountain at the path they had created. Mink couldn’t believe the ground they had covered and cleared. The rest of the group seemed so small making their way down with the wagon. This easily stood out as the most fun Mink had had since the party. Tralé held his hand out to Mink for a high-five, which he gladly obliged.
“We make a good team,” Tralé panted, wiping sweat off his forehead. Then, with a sideways glance at Mink, he asked, “Hey, Corporal Alré? I hate to admit it, but I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night and might have overdone it on the way down. Sapo’s mist is nice and all, but I think I’ll need some Soil, too. There’s a Soil user in the—”
“Can you get to the point?” Alré barked, easily slipping back into her gruff demeanor.
“I’d like to change my scooter into a two-seater and have that Soil user in the Scout Cell help keep my energy up. Please.”
“Hold on. I have to go through a few people to ask Corporal Ankrim.” Alré held her hand up for everyone to be quiet.
Tralé leaned to Mink, uttering under his breath, “Don’t say I never did anything for you.” In anticipation, Mink backed off of the scooter while Tralé chanted the Manipulation Wood effect, Bend Form,
“Wood is subject to my control.
I can change its shape with my mind.
My power molds its destiny.
Respond to me upon my reach.”
Tralé split and expanded the back of his scooter using smoothing motions with both hands. After the back had doubled, Tralé opened it up to create two adjacent seats. Then he balanced the front and back by bulking up his board and tapering the connection from the crest up to the nose. Lastly, he dropped two smaller runners under each seat.
“Okay,” Alré affirmed shortly. “After they make it down here, you can borrow the Soil user until you get your strength back up.”
Mink’s heart leapt. He couldn’t believe his luck held out, and now he would be able to ride beside Gyov! Looking up at the rest of the group, he urged them along faster in his mind. Seventy-three Team members still marched down the slope alongside the wagon, a dozen or so in front and the balance be
hind. Mink couldn’t see Pulti, and assumed she was holding the rear bumper, while Obyr braked it from the front. Everyone except for the wagon driver still traveled on foot.
They were close enough now that he could watch Gyov and Frèni Manipulate the ground into a smooth, flat slope for the wagon by waving their hands in sweeping motions over the ground. He admired her skill and revelled that she was recognized as one of the six best Soil users of the Flothian youth. It would make him so happy to be known as any kind of Elemental user. He couldn’t imagine the joy such high regard could bring.
Mink gazed down the valley to gauge how quickly they might progress through the forest there. The deep shadows played tricks on his eyes, and he found it difficult to see just how dense the Wooded area might be. It took the better part of two hours for the rest of the Team to catch up, and the sun had not yet climbed over the mountain to illuminate the valley. The Team as a whole didn’t get a chance to rest more than five minutes before receiving the order to move on. Gyov had just enough time to skip her way up to Tralé’s scooter and sit next to Mink with a smile that he knew meant she was as happy as he was for the new arrangement.
Riding with her right beside him turned out to be a mixed blessing due to Alré’s strict adherence to silence. At least Tralé was able to play music for the three of them. While Mink would’ve preferred to hear Gyov’s voice, sitting with her felt great all the same. They made awkward eye contact several times. If only the seats had been made so their hands could touch, but alas, there was Tralé’s steering hand in-between. Besides, it was necessary for Gyov to maintain direct contact with the scooter so her energy force could transfer over to Tralé. After all, this was business, not pleasure.
The rhythmic pace of tree moving, music, and the company of Gyov all had a placating effect on Mink. Before he knew it, they had traveled deep into the valley. The passage of time showed itself in Gyov’s fatigue as she continued to energize Tralé at the expense of her own vitality. It must’ve been getting close to lunch…
A strange smell assaulted Mink’s nose and quickly grew in intensity. Try as he might, he couldn’t see anything beyond the shadows of the specklenut trees clustered along the valley walls. The others made faces and noticed it, too.
“Mouké? That sausage acting up on you?” Tralé commented while waving his head, trying to avoid the onslaught.
Mink looked back and saw that their whole group was recoiling now. He thought to himself that it smelled like death when suddenly, the grim and terrifying reality struck him.
“Reeks!” Mink shouted.
Everyone froze in fearful acknowledgment. Instinctively, all Cells circled the wagon tight with eyes scanning out toward the forest. Had they passed too close to Harvest after all? To gain the attention of the Reeks was a notoriously fatal mistake. And Mink knew as well as anyone that Reeks wouldn’t move upwind until they had their prey surrounded.
THE SMELL of decay struck terror into Mink’s heart like he had never known. The fact that he had experienced mortality a week ago intensified his fear, since he now knew how easily death could come. The important difference here was that if he died, he wouldn’t be coming back. Embarrassingly, all he could do was sit and clutch onto Tralé’s scooter. Everyone tightened up around the wagon. All eyes searched the Wooded slopes on both sides of their valley path, dreading the first sighting.
“Mink, Gyov,” Tralé forced himself to speak in a soft, calm voice. “Please get up off my scooter.”
They stepped down and Mink glanced up at Tralé, who stood up slowly, looking over his shoulder into the trees beyond. Mink reached out for Gyov’s hand. It felt warm and sodden. He pulled her close and they scarcely breathed. Side by side, they inched away from the scooter. Tralé sat down on the footboard with his back against the upward curve. He chanted the Elemental Armor effect, Impenetrable Bark,
“I wear Wood just like it’s clothing.
Petrified, it stops all attacks.
Knocking back with its own hardness.
Attacks bounce off with no harm done.
It cannot block attacks I make.
My armor protects only me.
Atriarb holds me in her grace.
Protect me from harm when I reach.”
In a smooth, whirling motion, Tralé skillfully wrapped the Wood of the scooter around himself until it fit him like a big suit of armor. It covered his arms and legs in a swirling pattern of silver and black. He extended the armor of both arms into Wooden blades, and then curved claw-like Wooden spikes around his feet. With his left hand, he pulled a helmet over his head, made of Wood extended from the upper back and neck.
Mouké had already Manipulated his own scooter into armor, his with barbed Wooden spikes on the elbows and knees, the new-growth green banding the outside of his limbs and spine. He and Tralé backed up against each other, rotating to scan the surrounding forest.
Readying her attack, Alré chanted the Shooting Star effect from behind Mouké’s position,
“I punch a ball of flame with aim.
From my closed fist to my target.
My power creates the Fire.
With hit or miss, my attack stops.
Fist-sized orbs hover, burning hot.
My attack cannot do me harm.
With all the blessings from Symg.
Burn my enemy when I snap.”
She snapped her fingers and five small balls of yellow flame came to life in a semi-circle before her. It took some impressive power to produce five Shooting Stars at the ready. Mink had mistaken Sapo for the defensive type, but here she was, readying her Attack chant, Waterjet,
“I blast a forceful stream with aim.
From my mouth upon my target.
My power creates the geyser.
With hit or miss, my attack stops.
Pressurized force, compressed to pierce.
My attack cannot do me harm.
With all the blessings from Floth.
Douse my enemy when I spit.”
Sapo withheld the implementation of the chant, which Mink knew meant she was waiting for the proper time to use it.
“Mink!” Tolrin’s agitated voice boomed through Silent Signal Fire inside of Mink’s head. “You assured me that we wouldn’t pass too close to Harvest.”
“We’re still way south of the border, sir. These Reeks must have already been out here for some reason.”
Looking into Mink’s eyes, Gyov could probably tell he was engaged in Silent Signal Fire. She backed up and started chanting in exotic Pashmeetan,
“Jehbayo Groocks ahtima.
Kah sarillmeett dazztasho.
Oongsidata baengtamee.
Shodari dazztasho tisi.
Kah tipatcha dazztashoma.
Engsa brrisoma ahtima.
Sagga ahtima Grahcks engsi.
Engsa dasho ahtima uhll.”
She stomped to implement the chant, and the top Soil curled up around her like a flower bud, hardening to a dark brown clay.
Tolrin’s voice returned, taking on an unfamiliar edge and putting Mink on the defensive. “’For some reason?’ Hunting for more puppets, perhaps?”
“I doubt it,” Mink asserted. “If they were going to hunt us, they wouldn’t be holding back in the shadows. They’d have tried to disrupt the chants by now.” Reeks, unlike Machinists and Animalists, were able to learn and use a few basic chants, and he would wager they understood the importance of preventing an Elemental user from implementing.
Still surrounded by the Team, the wagon in all its bulk now stretched and bent into a low fortress, with four ramparts on either side. A Wood user climbed over the pile of gear to Manipulate the structure into its new, protective shape. Even before it was completed, members of the Tear of God Unit’s Perimeter Cell positioned themselves inside. The driver jumped to the top of the wall behind her, removed her gloves and helped finish the Manipulation.
Tolrin’s voice pulsed inside Mink’s head, making it difficult to think. “I have Jannri
to answer to, Mink. I have to assure her we didn’t just march everyone into a death trap.”
The driver, in a continued display of impressive skill, March Rooted trees downward two at a time in a wide arc around them to increase visibility, leaving only a couple feet of the top branches protruding from the ground. Not enough for a Reek or puppet to hide behind. Tolrin stood in front of the wagon-turned-fortress with Lieutenant Jannri beside him, both of them looking furious.
Mink did his best to sound calm in his explanation. “It depends on how we greet the puppets they send. That’s how they’ll determine our willingness to talk. Stay with me, Sneak. I can talk us through this. I’ve studied as much as we know about the Reeks.”
Mink saw that most of the Team had finished putting up their Elemental Armor effects, and the Team as a whole was abuzz with the chanting of Attack effects, saving implementation for the first sign of trouble. The paranoid situation had degraded from bad to worse too fast for Mink to track what was happening. Everyone must have either assumed that the Reeks were going to attack, or planned on Attacking anyway out of hatred for the Reek’s abhorrent nature. The window for a peaceful resolution looked closed and locked.
“There’s a time and a place, Mink. This isn’t it. I am not asking for input. We are implementing a contingency plan.” Tolrin’s tone was distant and cool, giving Mink the feeling that he had to come up with some idea to avert disaster and regain his advisory capacity.
The Air users, each with a Lightning user harnessed to their backs, positioned themselves several feet above the Team via Sky Step. The Lightning users, having spotted the puppets all over the slopes on either side of them, chanted and then pointed, sending Thunderstrike Attacks. The Thunderstrikes served well to let the rest of the Team know where the Reeks’ puppets were coming from by way of their arcing Lightning bolts.
Elements (Tear of God Book 1) Page 19