Elements (Tear of God Book 1) (33 page)

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.

Puppets began to show themselves to the Elementalists from the shadows, approaching en masse from all directions. At least Mink assumed they were all puppets, since Reeks rarely accosted strangers in person. Reeks were alive, with clean eyes and pink mouths but, just like their puppets, they wore masks and gloves made from the flesh of their kill. There were easily a hundred cloaks, moving slowly, hoods drawn, the edges of their thick black coats gliding along the ground. The stench grew more intense as they drew near. Puppets were far from harmless, but Mink knew it would be a waste of energy to Attack them.

The group went silent, except for two campers huddled next to the fortress. They shoved another camper around, shouting, “Now Rénys. Do it! Come on, Rénys.” Whoever Rénys was and whatever effect they were after, he wasn’t obliging. Jannri and Tolrin shouted for everyone to hold their effects, but all the horrified faces worried Mink. No one felt like holding back now.

M
INK WATCHED
the cloaks creep down the slopes of the valley walls toward them through the tops of the submerged trees. Were they moving so slowly because the Reeks controlling them were wielding too many? Or were they strategizing to bait the Team into attacking? The Elementalists backed tightly together and Mink stood fast against Gyov’s Clay Pot, but there was nowhere to go. The puppets would be on them in less than a minute.

Hoping Silent Signal Fire was still connecting him to Tolrin, Mink pleaded, “We can see how many puppets are here, but we need to figure out the number of Reeks behind them. They’ll back off if we know there aren’t enough of them to attack.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Tolrin boomed back at Mink. “They’re all moving the same way to prevent us from counting repeats.”

If only Mink could think of a way to group the puppets, they might have a better understanding of who they faced. Since Reeks were only human after all, it made sense to Mink that they wouldn’t be able to hide their thought patterns. They all looked the same on the outside, but each puppet shared the consciousness of the particular Reek controlling it.

Mink figured it’d be worth a try. “Have the Spirit users Eavesdrop on as many as possible to see how many unique thought patterns there are. Tell Soil users to use the Tracking effect to trace the puppets’ paths to the point of origin.”

“That would be hard for me to do under these conditions, let alone these youth. But, I follow what you’re saying. Now, I need you to let us work.”

The overwhelming smell of decay made it difficult for Mink to sort out just what felt wrong. There was something about the way the Elementalists were backed up against each other… He was positive that they were still too far south of Harvest for their group to have been surrounded. Since they had come down the visible side of the mountain that morning, these rotheads must have already been here. Did Reeks make a habit of wandering through the wilderness?

“Something’s not right.” Mink hoped thinking it out with Tolrin might dislodge his mental block.

“Oh really, Mink? You think there’s something wrong here?” Sarcasm wasn’t Tolrin’s strong suit. “Please don’t bother me. I’m trying to get a Reek count.”

The cloaks were close enough now that Mink could see their faces in the shade of their hoods. They formed a wall of stench and menace three-deep. The Penbik twins went shoulder-to-shoulder, protecting Sapo and Alré. Mink knew he should have something ready, but he was weaponless and couldn’t perform effects. Reeks went out of their way to disguise themselves so that no one could differentiate them from each other, or identify their gender. But, they could never disguise the dead gray of their reanimated corpses’ eyes. Mink checked the faces of the figures now surrounding him and confirmed that all he could see were puppets.

Mink could hear Tolrin yelling to the Spirit and Soil users from a distance. “I need my count! Where’s my count?”

The puppets took their time now, turning three rows into five as they closed in and ran out of elbow room. Their unfocused eyes and slow, random movement almost gave Mink the sense that the Elementalists were invisible to them, and yet they were specifically surrounding the Team. Suddenly, it dawned on him what had been bothering him.

“We need to separate!” Mink practically screamed into Tolrin’s mind.

“Not now, Mink.”

“Listen, please! Tell everyone to mingle with the puppets. Put at least one between them and the closest Team member. It will buy us some time and give us the advantage.”

“Sorry, Mink. Dispelling Silent Signal Fire now.”

“Tolrin Makunam! Sneak!” Mink shouted in his mind, but got no reply.

They were all sitting targets. The only way to level the field was to integrate with the cloaks. This would confuse the Reeks’ vision, possibly even drawing the real ones out of hiding as they tried to regain a visual.

“I’m waiting on my count!” Tolrin reminded everyone aloud.

Tréa’s voice could be heard from across the Team. “Working on it. I’m between sixteen and forty.”

Another voice called out, “I’m thinking thirty-two.”

“Is that confirmed?” Tolrin pressed.

“No. Give or take five.”

A succession of loud cracks and flashes made Mink flinch, and his heart sank as bolts of Lighting streaked randomly into the gathering puppets. Effects reflexively went off all over the place, risking chaos. Alré rushed the group closest to her, punching balls of flame, causing minature explosions of Fire whenever they struck upon contact, and sending three figures up in flames. The Penbik twins stabbed and cut with the sharp and pointy edges of their armor.

Waste of energy! Puppets were already dead, only their movements could be disabled. Sapo spat out a sharp stream of Water straight ahead, bisecting every rotten head and torso in her range. Effects happened so fast that by the time orders came to stop Attacking, the first row of puppets had been successfully maimed.

Still, the horde held its ground. Those that could walk continued their leisurely pace towards the Team. Others pulled themselves along with their arms. Mink counted twelve puppets that had been completely immobilized. He didn’t bother counting how many of them were damaged in the Attacks, but he could tell there were plenty as yet untouched. Not one had so much as lifted a finger in defense.

Mink couldn’t keep quiet any longer. After that kind of reception, the chances of avoiding an onslaught from the Reeks were slim. He had to act. He rushed into the ranks of puppets yelling, “Everyone mix in! Now! Put at least one between you and the other campers!” Those close enough to hear him regarded him skeptically. “Just do it! Before they attack. You have to split up and get in their groups!” Mink brushed his way into the thick of the mob, who didn’t turn a lifeless eye his way.

The cloaks had crept near enough now that there wasn’t much choice for the outer Cells. Tralé was the first to comply with Mink’s orders. That was enough for Sapo and Mouké to follow. Alré didn’t move, and Gyov’s Clay Pot wasn’t going anywhere but she was safe enough inside.

Some of the Scout Cell repositioned themselves in the throng, but Obyr rebelled by kicking a puppet with his Demolition Attack effect. The top half and its cloak sailed high over the trees, falling somewhere back in the forest while the lower half dropped to its knees. Obyr scowled defiantly at Mink.

“Mink!” Tolrin reconnected Silent Signal Fire. “You are not in the rotting chain of command! Don’t you dare make orders!”

“Sergeant,” Mink responded mentally. “If you want to buy some time for a Reek count, tell everyone to get in with the puppets. We’ll confuse their vision so much they won’t be able to coordinate an attack. Trust me.”

“You have not yet given me reason to do so.”

“They aren’t attacking! Either the Reeks are trying to position themselves, or they don’t intend to.”

Mink’s response was honored by way of Tolrin ordering every Team member to take up positions in with the horde. Jannri joined in, and soon all who were not in the fortress had complied. The plan seemed to work in a matter of seconds. The puppets stopped moving and turned their hooded heads every which way. Mink grinned, relieved. Everyone must realize by now that he had made the right assessment.

A cloak in Mink’s vicinity staggered beside him and, sending a shiver of terror up his spine, put an unwelcome arm around him. Its flesh-gloved hand clutched tightly upon his shoulder. The reek of rotting flesh became so powerful, Mink felt bile shoot up his throat and he almost lost his breakfast. Leaning in close, the puppet smiled at Mink. The mask made of dead flesh curved unnaturally around the places where it had been sutured to the face. The eyes and inside of the mouth were a dead giveaway, discolored gray and dull with black splotches of decay. Definitely not a Reek.

“Yous fascinates us, boy,” the gravelled voice hissed in broken Octernalian. “Yous performs no effects, mixes your peoples in with ours, and seems satisfies with yourself. Are yous insane?” Its grip around Mink was surprisingly strong, and despite the friendly gesture, felt hostile.

“I can’t do any effects,” Mink groaned through held breath. The head rocked back and its gray eyes widened. “I don’t have an Element.”

At this proclamation, a scattered group of eight cloaks burst into crackly laughter. All of them sounded exactly the same, like someone squeezing fistfulls of dry leaves. They must all be controlled by the same Reek. Try as it might, a Reek couldn’t disguise its laughter, sending it out through each of its puppets.

Mink had to test out his theory. “Tralé! What’s my nickname back home?”

Tralé looked over at Mink as if he didn’t exactly appreciate having attention drawn to him during this horribly precarious crisis. “B-blankey,” he stammered.

More puppets laughed. There were four distinct styles and yet many around him were still silent. Mink specifically identified the various sounds of hollow, crackly, staccato, and drawn-out whine. He needed to include more so he could track all of the Reeks.

Mink looked over to Theen on the far side of the group. Theen couldn’t stand still, appearing to make himself dizzy as he whipped around fearfully. “Hey, Theen! What do you call an Elementalist with no Element?”