Elements (Tear of God Book 1)

by Henri, Raymond

  JUST AFTER breakfast, Mink spent some enjoyable time practicing with the balance and weight of his new paddle in the vale where Gyov had sung to him. It was a beautiful thing. He had requested that Tralé carve grooves for Air flow, just like he had asked Dreh to do after winning the party contest. But Tralé went one better, braiding the Wood to act much in the same way as a bird’s feather. The angle of the braids helped the paddle thrust and slice with remarkable speed and accuracy. When fanned, it really grabbed and pushed the Air forcefully. Tralé assured Mink that even if he were to free fall, he could steer and glide by riding on the paddle. After spending fifteen minutes with it, Mink believed him.

  Satisfied with his paddle practice, he rejoined the Guide Cell. Everyone had been told to wear neutral-toned clothes to help them blend into the landscape. Mink’s pants were the color of green mud, and his pocket jacket was mossy brown. Alré had packed enough of the official camouflage to lend a raincoat for Sapo to wear over her pastels. Mouké had plenty of tan to wear, but Tralé, by defiance or lack, chose to wear a forest green jacket and goldenrod pants.

  By order, breakfast had been with Cell members only. There was more food than anyone could stomach on the cusp of battle, even without the odor of decay. Mink really wanted to find out what happened to Pulti last night, but it would have to wait. Tolrin’s Relay Cell had already set off to escort the Tear of God Unit, including Pulti, south across the grasslands toward the spot where Nyam had given Mink her flatwrap. They had precious few hours to get into strike position. To ensure that their timing was right, the Support Unit would need to head out shortly.

  “Will that work for you?” Tralé asked, nodding with casual confidence to the paddle slung across Mink’s back as they mounted the scooter.

  “If I knew they could be made like this, I’d never have owned another.” Mink clapped Tralé’s back appreciatively.

  “Okay then.” Tralé winked. “That’s a yes. Glad you like it.” He stretched and twisted nervously, waiting on the word to move, thumb and pinky embedded at the ready.

  The camp was nearly Dispelled, and everyone had already stored what they wouldn’t need that day on the long-since departed wagon. After the Guide Cell reestablished formation, the Scout Cell fell in close behind. Within arm’s reach of Mink and Alré, Gyov and Frèni stood side by side, Obyr behind them, and Ankrim and Theen tucked into his flanks. Corporal Counkrat’s Strike Cell lined up in three rows of five behind Rénys, who was being harnessed to Crali’s back, only steps away from the Scout Cell. Game-face time.

  “Here. For you,” Gyov discretely extended a music crystal to Mink.

  “What’s this?” He took it and looked it over quickly before stashing it in an interior pocket of his jacket.

  “I never got to finish singing my song to you. So I recorded it and the translation. For good luck.”

  Mink patted the pocket. “Thanks. That makes me feel better.” He gave her a weak smile. In truth, not much could comfort him, as the reality of their fateful morning weighed on his mind. The Team was about to set off for battle, veritably breaking a truce among countries that had lasted nearly 16,000 years. All for the immense purpose of acquiring a Tear of God and, in the process, saving his parents’ lives. The well-crafted paddle strapped to his back seemed a mere trinket against the dire forces they were about to face.

  The gravity of the moment burdened Mink’s heart, and he barely registered Gyov squeezing his hand before back-stepping to her position behind him. Tralé and Mink turned their attention to Rénys being brought up to Sapo. Apparently, Rénys hadn’t thought to chant Slip Skate before loading up his massively specified effect, so he had to be carried in order to make good time. Mink truly hoped that Rénys hadn’t uttered a single sound since finishing his chant, or they were all in for a very bad day.

  The newly purposed Decoy Unit made use of the shrubs and almany trees for cover until they got into position. Mink and his group moved up the grade toward the plateau north of the Machinist Army at a speed three times faster than they had traveled yesterday. It impressed him that Sapo was able to keep pace, especially uphill. He hoped each of them were conserving enough energy to play their part in the battle. Fortunately, travel was made much easier by not having to create a path, or wait on the wagon.

  Under Corporal Ankrim’s command, the Decoy Unit halted just before they reached level ground. The shrubs that surrounded them now would not provide adequate protection, and their current position was still too far away to stage their attack on the Machinists. Mink recognized the grove of hudlew trees that stood out about two miles beyond them, the same red fruits showing vividly that he had chosen from just days ago, under very different circumstances. Taking shelter in the grove would position the Unit conveniently due north of their enemies. A couple of miles felt like a long distance to be exposed, but since the Decoy Unit’s mission was to provide misdirection, it was decided that detection could only advance their cause.

  A bluff rose to their right as they continued west, providing just enough cover for travel. It took some minutes to reach the hudlew grove, and every second felt too long for Mink, who kept expecting bedlam to loose from the Machinist camp. They reached the sanctuary of the fruit trees without incident, welcomed by the thick, bittersweet smell of overripe hudlews. As Rénys unharnessed himself from Crali, Mink dismounted Tralé’s scooter and tried to get a visual on the Machinists surrounding his mom and dad.

  The thickness of the foliage protected them better than anticipated. Mink peeked through the bushes and felt a deep pulse of adrenaline. Machinists and vehicles crowded Rift Ridge a few miles from the edge of the grove where they hid. It barely registered for him that the vast majority of the masses slept, as he had never seen such throngs outside of a thornball stadium. More than half of the wakeful enemy was crowded on the far edge of their forces, serving as Mink’s only clue to where his parents might be located. If the opening Nyam had dug remained there, Mink certainly couldn’t make it out from here.

  Dozens of vehicles every bit as large as the Elementalists’ Wooden wagon scattered the area like moving houses, closed off with thick metal doors, and mounted with turrets that had long tubes sticking out of them. There were also scores of smaller vehicles similar to the one the scout drove. Hundreds of infantrymen wore metal armor and carried weapons the size of Mink. Thousands more milled about in green uniforms, bearing more compact weapons. Several hundred black cloaks mingled among the Machinists.

  Behind Mink, Alré climbed a tree and held a spy glass to her eye. Ankrim sat against the trunk, squinting through the bushes as he chanted the Mental Vacation Movement effect of a Spirit user,

  “My mind can go where I can see.

  Leaving my Body where I am.

  My eyes select the place I go.

  Instantly seeing from that spot.

  I perceive everything around.

  Threatened, I return inside me.

  Spirit and Air empower me.

  Travel by mind when I say, ‘There.’”

  Ankrim motioned for Obyr to come stand guard for his Body. When he was close, Anrkim fixated on a spot in the heart of the Machinists’ forces, saying, “There.” His Body went limp, and Obyr gingerly propped it against the tree trunk. The rest of the group was hiding just out of sight in the grove. Gyov came up behind Mink, beckoning him back from the shrubs.

  “What can you see?” she whispered in his ear.

  Mink spoke softly back. “I’ve never seen so many people. I hope we know what we’re doing.” Gyov looked worried. She craned her neck, but couldn’t get a view of what Mink had seen from where they stood.

  The hudlew fruits fermenting on the ground gave off a dizzying sweet smell in the heat of the day. Corporal Ankrim sat up suddenly, having returned from his reconnoiter. He winked at Mink, stood, and knocked on Alré’s boot, indicating for her to climb back down. With Obyr and Gyov in tow, they approached the group in the shadows of the fruit trees. Alré signaled for the Decoy Unit to hudd
le up.

  Ankrim addressed everyone in a low voice. “Just about all of those button pushers down there are asleep. We should only have to deal with Body and Water affinities. Rénys will take care of the Body users, leaving the Water affinities for our Lightning users who will be brought over the cliff by Air users.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Obyr whined.

  “There aren’t that many of them,” Alré countered, expressing confidence that their Elemental powers trumped the limitations of weaponry. “Just a small contingent of the Machinist’s total forces. Our earlier reports were obviously exaggerated by those who haven’t seen what Freeland is capable of. They won’t even have time to call for back up.”

  “You’re dad is really something else,” Ankrim directed to Mink. “Most of our work has been done for us.” He continued to address the group. “Tréa tells me they’re just about in position. I need Lightning users to mount up. It’s show time.”

  THE AIR users Imbued the four Lightning users with Featherweight, chanting breathily,

  “Power of Air is mine to give.

  I grant my target weightlessness.

  The target is easy to lift.

  Carrying is not a burden.

  The slightest breeze can move it far.

  No lack of strength experienced.

  I may borrow the Air from Hewl.

  Imbue Air as soon as I clap.”

  After clapping to implement the effect, the Air users grabbed the straps on the harnesses and slung their riders onto their backs like they were empty sacks. Mink flashed to the strength Nyam had displayed hauling him single-handedly upward, pounding through two miles of dirt and ore, mysteriously empowered by the Tear of God that the Team would momentarily fight to acquire.

  “Wait until your Cell is on the cliffside to chant the Sky Step, Corporal Thol,” Ankrim instructed his comrade. “Maintain cover until Rénys’ chant takes effect, then come up and have the Lightning users implement their A.o.E., Scattered Storm.”

  Corporal Thol Ramink nodded and tucked her thumbs under her shoulder straps. “See you on the victory rendezvous. May God’s grace be your keep.” Ankrim nodded. Thol drew a circle in the Air with her finger, signaling for her Cell to move out.

  As the eight of them left, Mink counted only nineteen who remained in the hudlew grove, himself included. This, against thousands of armored, gun-toting Machinists. A swallow got stuck in his throat. They all watched in silence until the Perimeter Cell was out of view. Obyr and Alré took deeper cover for him to fortify her with a fresh application of Materialized Body.

  The next half hour of waiting was anguish. They remained silent, Mink and Gyov holding hands. He vascillated repeatedly between believing everything would be okay, and deciding this was a huge mistake.

  When the time came, Ankrim and Alré simultaneously held their hands overhead in the shape of a triangle, indicating formation. The twins positioned their scooters about ten yards apart, where they could easily push through the shrubs. The other sixteen filled the space between, with Rénys positioned strategically in the middle. Mink took his place in the line and weilded his paddle with unfelt fervor, but he was far from prepared to engage the formidable sea of Machinists and puppets that awaited them on the ridge. Everyone on the line looked at Ankrim.

  After a few very long seconds, he pumped his left fist up and down. Ready or not, they burst forth through the shrubs. Out in the open, the sense of exposure and vulnerability churned Mink from the inside. Rénys rushed ahead of the group, waving his hands back, indicating for all of them to stay behind him. As they ran in a V-pattern, Mink scanned the field in front.

  He immediately noticed that not one Machinist, Reek, or puppet faced their way. Not one. “Corporal Alré, they’re not looking at us! They are specifically not looking in this direction.”

  “And we are taking advantage of that fact, Mink. Shut up!” Alré jogged, eyes focused hungrily on the impending battlefield.

  “I think we should pull back. We might be moving into a trap.” Mink made great effort to keep his place in the line, but his reluctant legs felt heavy with dread.

  “Mind your place, Mink!” Alré barked. “Everyone advances. That is an order!”

  The momentum of the day’s fate reached a point-of-no-return as Rénys implemented his secret, massive Water effect by unceremoniously spitting on the ground, still at a full run. He collapsed in exhaustion, but before his limp Body flopped to a rest, screams could be heard from the Machinists. As Mink thrust his paddle forward, its grooves grabbed the air and pulled him unwillingly ahead. He feigned the enthusiasm he saw in the others, hoping that it might foster some deep-rooted war cry.

  Torrents of Water gushed out of every orifice of the Machinists’ bodies. Those without armor bloated visibly. Within seconds, the swarms of soldiers and puppets across the battlefield were ankle-deep in Water, as it collected quickly on top of the hard cracked Soil with nowhere to go. Obyr hoisted Rénys over his shoulder and kept advancing.

  The flood continued to build under the glare of the relentless sun, revealing that the surface of the plateau above the Tear of God’s chamber was a shallow basin. The rushing Water carried dead and sleeping bodies alike toward the opening Nyam had dug up from the geode. The force of the whirlpool began eroding the Soil of the hole, widening the underground access. Bodies eddied and dropped through the center like bubbles getting sucked down a drain. Wails and curses echoed across the field from those Machinists who still had dry throats.

  “Anyone harmed by Water or Lightning, stay on the outside of that flood!” Ankrim ordered. Now that they were nearly a hundred feet away from the Water’s edge, Mink slowed down. It was a scene unlike anything he had imagined. He understood now that Rénys’ effect was going to increase the strength of the Wood users making the pulley systems, with an added bonus of softening the Soil for the extraction of the geode. Very smart. Mink only hoped that the Water rushing down into the vortex of the flood wouldn’t weaken his dad.

  Hovering now over the cliff’s horizon, the Lightning users wasted no time finding a place to point, implementing their effects. Instantly, four cores of Lightning appeared in the Machinists’ camp. Several Lightning bolts per second shot throughout the remaining forces with a deafening roll of thunder, raging an electric war-storm in broad daylight. The Scattered Storms effects arced violent flashes toward every metal object within their range, and crackling sparks danced atop the Water over smouldering bodies that the receding Water left in the muck. Still, Mink counted hundreds of Machinists and cloaks as yet unharmed.

  Before Mink’s group could reach the Water’s edge and engage in battle, several dozen puppets sprung up from under the dirt in unison, like corpses rising from their graves. Unlike those they had encountered before, these puppets moved quickly and with dexterity, rapidly surrounding the Decoy Unit. Five of them swarmed each member of the Unit, possessing affinities specific to the individual, which would keep the attackers safe from harm. The Elementalists fought for their lives.

  Obyr dropped Rénys, punching and kicking at the puppets grabbing him, to no avail. They all had Soil affinities! As a Body user, he could only make them stronger. In an instant, Obyr went from a man of intimidating stature to a four-and-a-half foot boy, no more than ninety pounds. All of his Body effects had been canceled. In a flash, it came to Mink that the Team had revealed their Elemental affinities to the Reeks in yesterday’s encounter. They desperately needed help, but the Extraction Unit was just now cresting over the slope of the plateau, entirely on the opposite side of the battlefield.

  Mink fought off five puppets with his paddle, but their evasion was so well-timed that he couldn’t break their bones fast enough to slow the onslaught. Since he hadn’t shown an Elemental affinity, nor displayed any prowess with his weapon, how were they prepared to counter him so well? Sapo could clearly be seen towering over the black cloaks with Wood affinity that held her fast. She screamed and screamed for help, the sound barely carry
ing over the thunder of the persistent Lightning. Mink’s paddle suddenly split into three pieces, shot by a distant Machinist. Before the shards struck the ground, the five hooded figures grabbed his arms and head, immobolizing him.

  Amid the chaos, Mink heard Ankrim and Alré yelling, but couldn’t make out their words. As if the thunder wasn’t loud enough, all the puppets now hissed their foul breath in everyone’s ears. Theen went limp. The twins’ armor was canceled. Gyov twisted and turned, unable to break free of the cold, dead grasp that held her fast. They all had been subdued, two cloaks clutching each arm and one holding the head. In unison, the captors rotated and stretched the Elementalists, putting them up on display for the three Machinists wading toward them.

  Straining, Mink heard the distinctive tones of chants coming from those members of his group still able to speak, but they were soon interrupted. Much to his disgust and horror, the puppets began to shove their flesh-gloved, rotting fingers into each of their mouths, including his own. Mink threw up everything he had, the taste of decay and bile blurring his vision as his eyes teared. He fought through the haze and struggled to free himself in vain, watching powerless as the twins, Sapo, Alré, everyone, including Gyov, got caught in the same foul death-grip.

  Mink hoped to God that Alré was somehow still connected via Silent Signal Fire to contact the rest of the Team for salvation. Choking on the repulsive claws pressing down on his tongue, amidst the constant daystorm of thunder and Lightning, Mink watched as puffs of blood-red mist exploded all over his people. The Machinists had opened fire.