Elements (Tear of God Book 1) (36 page)

Jehdati sa Ggyoriah ri

Yoriah oo meeckseng brooba

Kah oongk Ggyoriah ahtima

Baengo engllti sio—”

Mink listened, captivated by the soft lilt of her voice in the night. The singing of her language was somehow even more lovely than when she spoke. Her lulling of the tune was cut short by the crack of splitting Wood, making them both jump, searching to find the source of the sudden sound. The echo made it more difficult to pinpoint, but Mink was sure it had come from the direction of the camp.

“We should get back.” Mink scanned the shadows.

“Good idea,” Gyov agreed nervously, helping Mink stand. They walked up out of the vale holding hands. As the camp came back in view, Mink could find no reason for the sound they heard, but it was a sobering reminder of the dangers they faced.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Do you still want to be with me?” Gyov countered his question with her own.

“Yes. Very much so.” Mink gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Then, yes, better. But I still think you are crazy. In good way.” Gyov gave him another short, comfortable kiss before they split up toward their respective Cells.

Mink reached his cabin and took two steps inside before turning on his heel. He suddenly remembered that Pulti wanted to meet up with him after everyone got settled. Did he have a story to tell her! He walked with a purpose as if he were on his way to meet with Tolrin. The Pull Cell’s cabin had to be near the rest of the Tear of God Unit’s cabins, but other than that, he wasn’t sure how to find Pulti. No one stopped him, which was a good thing. Mink pretended to be on a patrol and nodded amiably to the people standing guard atop their cabins. With any luck, Pulti would be on watch.

He found her, shaking by the side of her cabin. He sped up his pace, careful not to draw attention. The unmistakable stench of puppets had returned.

“Hey, Pulti. So glad I found you…” He suddenly realized she was crying. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She shot him a pained and angry look, tears streaming. “Go back to your cabin, Mink,” she said through clenched teeth. Mink reeled. Did something happen while he and Gyov were out of sight? What did they miss?

“Just tell me—”

“I swear by Curpo, if you don’t leave right now, I will throw you back home.” Pulti broke down in quiet sobs again and clutched the wall.

“All right,” he relented, hands raised and backing away. “I’ll come find you at breakfast.”

Pulti slumped to the ground, sobbing and shaking her head.

Mink hurried back to his cabin with his hands shoved in his pockets, both elated and worried, convinced that he knew nothing about women. He and Theen had last watch of the night, which naturally meant no more sleep before battle. Relentless thoughts of his parents’ fight, Gyov, Pulti, and everyone’s safety contorted his emotions. He tossed around in his bed until somehow, sleep finally caught up with him. When Tralé tapped Mink for his watch shift, adrenaline kicked in and cold kwona did the rest.

J
UST 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 huddle up.