by P. G. Thomas
Rounding a corner, they saw a black-clad guarded gate across the road. Steve tapped John on the shoulder and traded places with him. As he took the front seat, he also instructed Lauren to place her staff on the floor. Leaning forward, he looked at Ryan, “Just stay cool and head to the gate.”
“What if they ask for a pass or something?” asked Ryan, apprehensively.
“I doubt it. Issuing passes in this hellhole would cost more than they would be worth, as the river and bridges are providing their primary line of security. They’re just checking to see if anybody has the wagons or horses from yesterday, but I doubt if they’ll ever find any. They’ve most likely already butchered the horses, and the wagons are probably firewood by now. Just stay calm.”
After they had approached the checkpoint, a black-clad guard rode around their wagon once, and without saying anything, he waved them through. After another thirty minutes, they were close to the docks, but when the heavily congested streets slowed their travels, Steve, pulling out the map, navigated them to the derelict building from the day before. Once there, they changed the wagon and horses back to a golden amulet before climbing to the roof. Even though they could see the tall Iron Wood tree standing alone, from their vantage point, unlike the previous day, the docks were absent of any Bright Coast residents begging for food. A line three deep of black-clad soldiers had the area closed off as a hundred carpenters were not only rebuilding the wall, but also adding two more. Out on the docks, a dozen ships had sunk into the ocean, as the fires had spread easily to neighboring vessels, and only their masts protruding from the quiet waters marked their final resting place.
John pulled his head down from the false wall that they were hiding behind, “They’re pissed!”
“The Iron Wood Tree! Why’re the leaves yellowing?” asked Lauren.
“The salt water it’s drinking in. If plants aren’t used to the salinity, it turns—” John thought back to the magic forests they had visited, remembering the leaves on the dying trees that had also turned yellow.
Steve smiled, “What do we do next?”
Before any suggestions were voiced, John blurted out, “Lay low. Let the resistance fighters take the heat. You did some good, but let’s see if there is any fallout first.”
Then they heard a series of musical horns sound, and one-by-one, they each raised their head over the wall to see what was happening. The guards, who were holding the Bright Coast citizens back, had created an opening in their line, and a carriage with silver and gold ornaments pulled by eight horses entered the large courtyard on the dock. Even though it was a couple of hundred yards away, impressive was the only word to describe the coach.
“Zymse!” The words spoken by Amber made a shiver run down their backs.
Chapter 17
Lauren ducked her head under the wall, “What did you say?”
“Zymse is in the carriage,” Amber replied trembling.
Steve had crouched down behind the wall upon hearing the name, but after Amber’s statement looked back over. The inside of the carriage was dark with shadows, the distance was great, and the open windows were small. “How can you see him? Are you sure?”
“I may be dwarf, but my eyes and ears are from my mother’s side. I can easily see him, easily as you.”
As the carriage door opened, the nine held their breath. Three ladies, two obviously pregnant, all with long dark hair, wearing long black dresses stepped out, and walked up to the tree. Ryan grabbed Lauren’s hand when she let out a silent gasp.
Amber turned from the three dark-clad females, glanced to Lauren, and then back to the three, “Your daughters they are, as they look like you both.”
Tears began welling up in Lauren’s eyes, but she pushed them away, raising herself higher to see her daughters, who were encircling the tree to examine it.
All were watching now, and they could see the triplets move to an equal distance apart to surround the tree. Then Amber heard them begin to chant.
John ducked under the wall, looked at her, and without raising his voice, screamed, “What’re they doing?”
“To Mothers presence they take offense.”
“They’re Cursing the tree, trying to kill it,” advised Lauren.
Ryan and John both looked at her, “What?”
“Trust me, I’m speaking from experience, and damn, they’re strong. Ryan, Eric, Steve. I need to get to the ground and now.” Before they could act, Lauren had already jumped through the hole in the roof, and the three quickly followed her. When they caught up to her, she had the gnarled staff pressed into the soil. An image of the Iron Wood tree was in her mind, and around it, she could see the swirling green mists of the Curses. She pushed the staff deeper into the ground, “These girls need to be taught a lesson that you don’t effing mess with your Mother, either one of them.”
“Are you sure?” asked Ryan.
“People are talking about Mother. If they kill that tree, they’ll think our daughters are stronger than she is, and I can’t let that happen because Mother might be the only chance I have to get our daughters back.” For an hour, she concentrated on the vision in her mind, seeing the Curses change from green, to red, and then to black. The harder her daughters tried to kill her sign of hope, the more determined Lauren became, but she had Mother on her side—or a part of her. Unlike her last staff that seemed nothing more than a dry piece of wood to her, she could feel the power of this one throb in her hands. Back then, she never understood the power she held, but this time, with the God Wood staff, holding a piece of the force known as Mother, it felt like she held the world in her hands. With it, she directed the energy to the Iron Wood tree, protecting the representation of Mother’s strength and Lauren’s hope.
After another hour, John dropped a dry piece of lumber down from the roof to get their attention, quietly shouting, “Something is happening so get back up here.”
Eric and Steve looked at Lauren, but Ryan refused to leave her, “Go! Just keep an eye on us down here.”
Racing back up to the roof, Steve saw them all looking over the wall, except for Logan. He was sitting in a corner, shaking with sweat dripping from his forehead. Peering over the wall, he saw chaos, as the black-clad guards had fallen back, and those who had not, had fallen dead. The courtyard was littered with black-clad bodies, and the sky, filled with arrows, rained down a storm of death, as the resistance fighters had arrived. The three daughters had already taken refuge in the elegant carriage where all of the windows were covered except one. As a gang of resistance fighters rushed the carriage, one arm extended out of the open window, and it pointed towards the new threat. John saw what looked like percussion waves discharging from the hand, killing both black-clad soldiers and resistance fighters. Then, when a portal formed, they watched the carriage enter it before it winked out. By that time, Lauren, Eric, and Ryan were back on the roof, and black-clad soldiers were rushing the remaining resistance fighters; the slaughter being equal on both sides.
Steve guided them through the back streets to get to Gayne’s house. When they came across desperate, armed souls who demanded a passage tax, Steve and Eric jumped to the street with swords drawn. They were willing to pay but not in the currency requested. Riding in the back of the wagon, Lauren was unable to meet any that gazed upon her. The images of her pregnant daughters, the monsters that sought to destroy this beautiful land, still filled her vision and consumed her thoughts.
After returning to the house, Lauren headed up to her room without a word, and John headed to the basement to check out his theory of the saltwater. Ryan headed for a cask, taking it to the patio, and in Zack’s tradition, only took one mug, as he had no interest in company. Steve grabbed three mugs, giving one to Eric, and being polite, he handed one to Logan. He refused and instead, headed down to the basement. Steve and Eric went out to the patio, and not asking, they poured themselves each a drink. Elbowing Eric in the ribs, Steve nodded towards Ryan to start a conversation.
“Over
the last few years, when we would get together, you would tell me the stories of what you did to help me when Tranquil Fury had become the head coach. I don’t know if it’s your stories or my memories, but I know you helped me. Maybe it’s time I returned the favor.”
[On line. Analyze. Extreme emotional conflict. Repair status. Incomplete.] Ryan’s dry, hollow voice lacked emotion. “You can’t.” With one hand, he crushed the thick mug, causing glass and beer to explode over the patio. “The rage is back, and I want to hurt someone.” He grabbed the empty mug for Logan, filled it, drained it, and refilled it. “I want to hurt somebody, ripping them into a thousand pieces, put them back together, and do it over and over again.” As he spoke, his clothes melded to his body, which turned to granite, and a blast of rage erupted in his eyes. He turned to them, “What am I supposed to do? My daughters are evil, and there’s no guessing what other brutalities they have committed. My wife, she just had her first argument with her children, and they’re older than she is. As well, two are pregnant? What am I supposed to do?”
Eric took a long slow sip, “Okay, I’m remembering the arm wrestling right now. When they get so angry at what’s happening in the game, the first rule is to pull a player, giving them time to cool down. Ryan, being your friend, you need to listen to me. Pour that mug of beer on the fuse to your rage. First, you don’t want to do anything to your daughters?” Ryan nodded. “Okay, if you do anything to Zymse, your daughters won’t like it. For now, let say Zymse is on the sidelines, untouchable.” Ryan shook his head in disagreement, but Eric continued, “Buddy, the objective is getting your daughters back. This isn’t Hoyle or Korg.” They heard the two dogs bark. “We, you, me, Lauren, Steve, John, all of us need to act as a team. The only way to move the ball down the field is through a coordinated effort. We always throw to the sidelines, so if you get tackled, the clock stops. This isn’t like before where we came in during mid-game. It’s the last quarter, and all of our timeouts are gone, so we need to play it smart. Yeah, we can go for the Hail Mary pass, but more of those fail than succeed. Three, four yards at a time, slow and steady. That’s how you win a game. You remember the final battle where I had you talk to the Darkpaye army, asking for their surrender. We both knew they wouldn’t, but I wanted it to be a clean fight, and you said I owed you one.”
[Primary mission: find daughters. Emotional distress. Logic corrupted. Implement override.] Ryan took a long drink, “You still do.”
“That’s right, and I’m going to collect on it right now. Calm down, and let me do the thinking for you, so this time, I can protect you. Rage, she is an attractive lady who has courted me many times. I enjoyed her embrace as you do, but she wears red, and it’s an angry color. Right now, you need to court Patience who wears a soft yellow, and she waits for the right time to make her move. Buddy, last time you were action, but it won’t work this time, so you need to think. You need to be reason, purpose specific, like a special team or play, waiting for the right moment and then strike.”
[Engage override.] “You owe me the favor. How does this repay it?” asked Ryan. [Implement upgrades.]
“You can explain it to me when you’re holding your daughters. Right now, upstairs there’s a very special and confused lady, one who is most likely crying in bed. Go to her, talk to her. She may push you away at first, but it’s your words she wants to hear, has always wanted to hear. Let her push you away until she pulls you to her. It’s the both of you who will win your daughters back, not you, not Lauren, the both of you, so go to her.”
[Upgrades Complete. Command Center 2.0 Installed. Implement Surge Protection. Analyze Data.] Ryan, the rage now gone, began to change back to normal. Unsure if the words he had heard made sense, he finished his drink before going up to the one he loved.
“Where did that come from?” asked Steve. “I thought you were just an overrated jock?”
“First game of the season, I sustained a major concussion. Ever since then, it’s been all scrapbooking, warm fuzzy feelings, writing poems, and stuff like that.”
“Seriously?” asked Steve.
“No, you stupid dick. It was a head injury, not a brain transfer. I hope the knives you took to those fights were sharper than your wits. The last time Ryan stood up for me, and if I can, I might as well help him, so that the next time when he talks about how Tranquil Fury had taken over, I can tell him to bite me.”
*******
Logan walked up to John, who was working at one of the benches in the basement, “Can I talk to you?” He glanced at Fodu, “Upstairs?”
John, needing a break, turned to the dwarf, “You have everything under control?”
Fodu nodded in agreement.
As they entered his room, Logan kicked an empty wine bottle under the bed, and John heard it bounce off of several others. A nervous expression was on Logan’s face, “We have a problem. Sister wants me to kill my nieces!”
“As Steve would say, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?”
“When I received my tattoos back, that Seer showed me an image of the three Earth Mothers hanging dead. I didn’t know how to tell Sister that they were family. Hell, she was a wind blowing in the cave, and it was hard to understand what she was saying. With that image, she made her thoughts clear. I figured I would just avoid them, and I really didn’t know where to find them. That, and wine helped to keep the voices quiet in my head, you could say.” Logan reached under the pillow, pulled out another bottle, and took a long drink. “The attack seemed to help, but when those three stepped out of the carriage, my arms almost exploded. It took everything I had not to send a fireball into that courtyard and kill everybody. Also, they’re pregnant, which means Lauren is about to be a Grand Mother, and I’m going to be a Grand Uncle—I think. I can’t kill my pregnant nieces. What am I supposed to do?”
“What do you mean? Your arms felt like they were about to explode?”
“It was like the last time when Lauren was in danger. My arms would tingle or burn. This time, it was those three Earth Mothers.”
“How do they feel right now?”
“They’re warm, and I have an urge to go and find them.”
John nodded, “I think for now we need to keep you at the house far away from them and drunk if necessary. Go to bed. We’ll talk later.”
As Logan turned in for the night, John went downstairs and heard Eric with Steve on the patio. Heading out to join them, noticing the glass shards that covered the ground, he saw Steve filling a mug for him. “The yellow root is some sort of weird-ass fungus. I’m not sure how it works, but as it processes water to sustain its growth, one of its by-products is salt, and that’s what’s killing the forests. I’ve seen some growth in it over the last weeks, and each time I drain the water, after it evaporates, only salt crystals remain. The more it rained, the more salt it would produce, which in turn killed more of the forests. When I saw the Iron Wood tree at the dock, it all came together. The yellow leaves are a symptom of excessive salt in the soil.”
“Is there something you can do about it?” asked Eric.
“Back home, if you posted that question on the internet, you would get a hundred replies to use hydrogen peroxide to kill it. You could go to any number of stores to purchase it, and your problem would be over. I can’t replicate the technology here to make it, and even if I could, we aren’t talking about a garden; we’re talking about forests spread over the entire continent. I have a few ideas, but I need to think about them some more.” John wiped the glass shards off of the table, “Ryan?”
Eric nodded, “I have good and bad news: Lauren is angry, and the magic has found him.”
“Which is the good news?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” replied Eric.
Steve added, “There’s more bad news because I think Logan has a drinking problem.”
Lowering his head into his hands, John rubbed his eyes and forehead, “I know. He just told me. When he had his powers restored, Sister delivered a message to kill the three Eart
h Mothers. He’s been drinking to suppress the urges to do her bidding. When he saw them from the roof, he did everything possible to push the command out of his head. If that carriage hadn’t left when it did, I’m not sure what he would’ve done. If Logan attacks them, Ryan will freak out, and I’ve no idea on what Lauren will do. If those three ever go at it, this won’t be the Bright Coast anymore—it’ll be Never Never Land. We need to keep him away from Ryan and Lauren—and their daughters.”
“Let me get this straight,” replied Steve. “Logan wants to kill his nieces? That’s why he has been drinking? What kind of world is this place?”
“No,” began John, “Sister wants him to kill the Earth Mothers, but Logan would never hurt his nieces. It might not seem like a big difference, well, actually it is. Sister and Logan are in conflict, but she’s stronger…when he’s sober.” John turned to Steve, “If Ryan has his magic back, how are you feeling?”
“Well, I haven’t felt this good in a long time, but beyond that nothing. Why?”
“Your implants. Chromium is only a few elements away from titanium, which is the metal that attracts the magic to Ryan. I wasn’t sure if some of it would find you or not.”
“After seeing what the Kid did tonight, I’m not sure if I want that kind of power.”
“How’re you and Fodu making out with the machine?” asked Eric.
“We have all of the major components stripped off, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to fix them here. I need to make new circuit boards, if you can call them that, and we need to fabricate another wiring harness. It’s not like starting from scratch, but it’s almost like trying to make a functional car from wooden blocks. The big problem is that it was powered by mithril magic. Even when it’s fixed, we’ll need to take it to Ironhouse. If we try to fly the kites here, I think they’ll draw too much attention. As well, Logan would have a better chance of calling to the sky elves in the mountains.” As he stood to go inside, John gave one last warning, “Keep an eye on Logan.”