Elements (Tear of God Book 1) (20 page)

“How’s that treating you?” Dreh tapped his fingers against Mink’s Turgid chest.

“Better than electrocution. Takes some extra effort to move but, you know, I’m used to it. I appreciate you being excited about showing me your little game, but I could really use a dark nutty.”

“I’ll go,” Pulti offered. “I need more anyway. Those rotheads are a real buzzkill.”

Dreh and Mink watched Pulti rush off.

Mink turned to face Dreh. “I think she’s working up some liquid courage for you, man.”

Dreh grabbed the back of his neck. “Mink, I love you. But you are one clueless little puppet sometimes.”

M
INK STOOD
dumbly, irritated that Dreh would be so cold and dismissive. It didn’t seem right for him to discredit the idea of being with Pulti when she was looking so hot. Even though Mink only promised to be there thirty minutes, if he could get Dreh and Pulti to dance together, it may be worth staying later. He watched Dreh crouch down and rub some dirt on his hands.

The party had lost interest in them and resumed normal chatter and festivities. Dreh remained low to the ground as he chanted the Materialization effect, Construct,

“I bring the Wood into this world.

My power makes it manifest.

Newly formed flowing from my palms.

I can change its shape with my hand.

My Wood builds improvements to life.

By my intention be defined.

My creation ends with a fist.

I create Wood upon my reach.”

The Wood growing from both of Dreh’s hands fused together seemlessly along the ground, contouring into the shape of a leg. He slowed down, allowing the Wood to fill in the space for the torso, and carefully shaped his Materialized figure up to the head. After the head was formed, Dreh scooped the Wood down the neck to add shoulders and arms. The arms brought him back down to the hips so he could make the other leg without having to stop.

At the feet, Dreh sculpted a solid, flat base and stepped on it to bring the figure to a standing position while sweeping his hands up the back. He brought his hands over the shoulders, down the front to the feet, back up over the shoulders, continuing to spread the Wood over the figure in this way to cover it with a cloak. On the last pass, after the cloak had been finished, Dreh brought his hands over the back of the head, cupped them around the face, and then made fists with both of his hands, ending the effect.

Especially in the low light, the dark Wood color Dreh used gave the cloaked figure an unsettling resemblence to a Reek. The likeness was a little rough but still enough to send a shiver down Mink’s spine. Nothing was more perverse or revolting than the Reeks, who worshipped death and controlled corpses commonly called puppets.

“What do you plan to do with that thing?” Mink asked as Dreh backed up and took a knee, admiring his handiwork.

“Whew. That took more energy than I expected. I must still be worn out from driving all day.” Dreh grabbed some dirt and rubbed it virgorously into his hands. “A target game,” he explained, standing. “Kill the Reek.”

Pulti arrived with a few bottles of nutty in her hands. “Guys! Feel these! Pirk made Boun freeze them. Oh, they’re gonna be so good.” She extended a bottle to Mink and gave a start, finally noticing the dummy Dreh had made. “The rotting mess is that?”

Mink almost dropped the bottle as soon as he grabbed it. It was so cold it burned. He rubbed the frost off the label. Rusgert, the same kind he always had with his dad. He yanked the cork out, took several gulps, and then felt Dreh’s hand gently lowering his bottle.

“Easy, champ. This game’s for you,” Dreh explained. “Don’t lose your head yet.”

Mink toasted Pulti.

“You’re welcome,” Pulti beamed.

“So, tell me about it, man. I’m curious.”

Rather than directly addressing Mink, Dreh yelled to the crowd, “Can I please have everyone’s attention?” The partygoers looked Dreh’s way but continued their conversations. A couple of guests noticed the cloaked figure and gasped, pointing it out to their neighbors. A wave of curiosity spread throughout the crowd, piquing interest in Mink’s corner of the yard.

Satisfied with the attention he was getting, Dreh went on, “Allow me, kind sirs and noblewomen, to present to you part of this evening’s entertainment! The soon-to-be-popular party game of ‘Kill the Reek!’” Dreh’s showmanship impressed Mink about as much as his skill with Wood. “You heard right. Everyone gets a chance to fatally strike the Reek!”

A bolt of Lightning streaked across the yard with an echoing boom and struck the dummy’s right shoulder, leaving short-lived flames on the cloak.

“I win,” Blin shouted from a distance. “Fast kill.”

“No. Fast miss. You have to hit the neck where the cloak opens, Sparkle. Now let me finish explaining. No effects! Assuming that no one else brought weapons to the party, we will use these.” Dreh pulled out a flatwrap from his jacket pocket and opened it, showing off a set of three spikes.

The way they glinted in the light, Mink could tell the spikes weren’t made out of stone, glass, or crystal. “Are those metal?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Dreh nodded with a devious smile.

“Where did you get them?”

“Family heirlooms, champ. Let me finish.” Dreh readdressed the crowd. “With these spikes, you have three chances to strike the neck of the Reek without using effects. Everyone who hits the neck will win a Wooden object of their choice, created by yours truly. If all three spikes strike the neck, I’ll even Imbue the object for free! Step right up, don’t be shy!”

“How many puppets does the Reek have?” a voice from the crowd asked, followed by laughter.

“Just one. Sparkle,” Dreh pointed at Blin. “So you know it’s hunting for more. Kill or be killed, people.” The crowd roared.

Mink stole a look over at Blin, who didn’t appear to relish his new role as party whipping boy, but he was dealing with it better than Mink would’ve thought. In no time at all, a line had formed before Dreh, who made Mink wait at the tail end. It was soon decided that anyone who missed the neck all three times would become the Reek’s puppet for the rest of the party. The line moved more quickly than Mink expected, considering how carefully most people were aiming. Many attempts missed the dummy completely, which required a time-out while someone fetched a spike from the dark. A dozen or so people managed to hit the neck once. One person, twice. But, no one had hit the neck three times.

Mink drank his Rusgert, realizing Dreh’s plan behind the game. Almost everyone at the party was useless without their Element. Mink had worked extra hard on his weapon training, as it was all he had to defend himself. He could hit the neck even if he were drunk. Sober, all three attempts would land a bulls-eye. He wouldn’t get another drink until after he showed everyone how it was done. For now, he and Pulti amused themselves by taking a sip every time the Reek gained a new puppet. He was running out of nutty.

At last Mink’s turn came up. The crowd degraded to chaos as the puppets went around harassing people in good humor. No one paid much attention when Dreh handed the spikes to Mink, for which he was grateful. Just because he knew he could hit the neck with all three, didn’t mean he wanted an audience while he did it. In his periphery, Mink caught a few people pointing and snickering as “Blankey” took up the weapons.

“Do something flashy,” Dreh advised under his breath. “Remember that old Machinist knife we found in Ontillustad a few months ago? You couldn’t miss. That’s why I brought these. Closest things I had.”

Mink turned the spikes over in his hand. They had simple round handles. Two blades bisected each other to form a plus-sign. As Mink got used to them, he did notice that the balance between the blade and handle was very close to the Machinist knife Dreh referred to. How was he supposed to be flashy, though? When they were playing with the knife, he didn’t have the Turgidity effect. He wouldn’t be able to make his regular throwing motion. He’d have to put his whole Body into it.

“You got this, champ,” Dreh encouraged, stepping to the side.

Mink drew more attention as he backed away from the Reek, doubling the distance everyone else had used. Maybe it was the Rusgert talking, but Mink was going to prove that his Elemental lack hadn’t made him incapable. Satisfied with his position, he jumped up and spun around, letting the first spike fly before his foot landed. He kicked his other foot around to add to the momentum of his spin and loosed the second spike while nearly sitting as he turned.

With his back to the Reek dummy, Mink now jumped with both legs into a backflip. When he sent the third spike flying, he was completely upside down. Landing in a push-up position looking away from the target, Mink relied on the applause to verify that all three spikes had found their mark. More than that, it just felt right. He stood up, slow and cool.

Pulti shot straight to Mink’s side. “That was amazing!” She squeeled, and hung off of his neck. “Don’t forget who taught you how to backflip,” she reminded him coyly, her breath thick with nutty. She smiled at him without talking, glassy-eyed and blushing.

“Thanks,” Mink said. “I’m actually glad I—”

A bolt of Lightning cracked across the yard and struck the spikes on the dummy in a shower of sparks. Startled, Mink broke away from Pulti. The head and upper torso of the Reek were completely gone.

“Looks like I killed the Reek, huh?” Blin boasted. “Didn’t miss that time.”

“Those are antiques, Sparkle!” Dreh took his riding gloves out of his pocket and put them on. He picked up the spikes and inspected them. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage these.” Unfolding his flatwrap, Dreh put them away. He nodded to the crowd, “Thanks for playing, everyone. Game’s over.”

Mink looked over at Blin, who appeared pleased with himself despite having several looks of disapproval cast in his direction. A group formed around Mink, pouring on congratulations and assaulting him with questions. As Pulti began to edge away with her empty bottle, Mink pulled her close again. He wasn’t about to face the onslaught alone.