Elements (Tear of God Book 1) (32 page)

“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 behind. 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.

T
HE 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.