Elements (Tear of God Book 1) (39 page)

M
INK LOOKED
the General straight in his steel blue eyes. Where he had hoped to see an enemy, he saw condolence, resolve, and a strange understanding. Looking away, Mink shrugged, exhausted. The General sheathed his knife and slid the sharpened handle through a belt loop.

“You think about offer. Myself go settle our survivors. Your people will have their rock.” With that, he climbed up the ladder and through the hatch.

Mink sat and stared at the three-dimensional picture of himself with his parents on the screen across from him. Would he ever see them again? Were they safe? He wanted to believe the General would tell him if he asked. They lied to him, his parents. They weren’t just there to work on his Elemental affinity. His dad was coming here anyway, on assignment. He knew about the scout and the potential ore deposits. Everything except for the Tear of God.

That was the game changer. No one would have ever expected a Tear of God out here. Its mere existence was reason enough to justify everything that had happened. It didn’t make Mink feel any better about Gyov and the rest of them being gone. But, if Octernal was going to have a Tear of God resting in the Cradle once more, that was more important than anything that could ever happen to Mink.

Still, he wondered… If he did have a metal affinity, what could he do with it back home? There weren’t any classes in metal. No chants. No history. Octernal rarely used metal with all the petrified Wood they could Imbue. Freeland and the Machinists had tons of metal. The best chance for him to explore his discovered affinity would be to defect to Freeland. It made sense. It also made Mink ill.

He stared at the faces of his parents, small and suspended before him. More than anything, he wanted to join them again. To tell them about Gyov, about the knife, and his affinity for metal. And to ask them why they had lied about the nature of their trip to Rift Ridge. Mink didn’t expect Juré to divulge classified information, but why not admit he knew about the scout?

Mink sat tied to the chair for an hour or more. No sound other than the constant buzz of an engine or generator and his own breath to listen to. Hopefully, that meant the battle was over and the killing had stopped. He knew in his mind that he must go with the Machinists to Freeland, or else have a pointy stick jabbed in his throat. It made logical sense to go explore his affinity. But it took every minute of that hour to convince his heart that it was the right thing to do.

The initial image went away and suddenly a diminutive holographic video of the Tear of God being situated, in all of its immensity, played in front of him. The wagon merged with the eight pulleys, clutching the rock like prongs holding a jewel. It morphed into a huge land barge, dwarfed by its cargo. Seeing the whole geode out in the open, Mink was awestruck by its size, despite having seen it up close just a week ago. It’s dull brown and gray surface was pocked and uneven, rather like a moon from a distance. How the Machinists were capturing this image eluded Mink, but it had to be from a position high above the battlefield. Squinting, he couldn’t quite make out who was who among the Elementalists congregating, but judging by the numbers, it didn’t appear that the Extraction Unit had lost many people.

The hologram shifted to reveal a lower angle as the Machinists in the foreground pointed their weapons down in front of them, but kept a vigil on the Elementalists. Mink watched as the Team began to head home, somber with a heavy victory. First, he noticed Tolrin by his shaved head. Then he traced his line of sight to finally see his parents once again. They looked weak and careworn, as if they may have aged years over the course of the last week. Tolrin came up to each and hugged them. They collapsed in tears. Pulti suddenly appeared by Nyam and held her, both of them mourning. Tolrin assisted Juré to a seat on the wagon.

Mink wondered if Tolrin had told them he was captured or dead. He supposed it didn’t make much of a difference. It broke his heart that he had no way to assure them he was okay, but he felt relieved to know that his parents, Pulti, and Tolrin were safe. His thoughts drifted to Pulti. It was just going to be her and Dreh now. He wished them well.

He imagined how much stronger everyone was, being that close to the Tear of God. Remembering how he felt when Nyam had touched the crystal, Mink wondered if the needle sensation was metal growing out of his bones. Did Nyam have an idea? She had given him a curious look. Now, Mink would probably never know. The sound of the hatch opening and General Stroud descending the ladder broke his reverie.

“So?” The General began. “Have we made mind up?”

Mink didn’t look at the General, but kept watching the floating image of the Tear of God leaving on the barge. “I will go to Freeland.”

“Good, good.” The General put his hand on Mink’s shoulder and watched the display with him. “That’s recording of half hour ago. Thought you would want to know.”

General Stroud placed the pointed handle on a ledge beside Mink and unsheathed his knife. “Excuse me. But, must see for myself.” He quickly slashed at the ropes binding Mink’s chest and wrists, passing part of the blade through Mink’s Body. The severed ropes fell to the floor and Mink’s jacket bore a long slash, but he was unharmed. “Amazing,” the General breathed, putting his knife away and untying Mink’s ankles.

For a fleeting moment, Mink thought about making a break for it. He could knock out the General and escape. The Machinists would shoot at him, but that wouldn’t matter. He had no chance of outrunning their vehicles. The offer to defect to Freeland would certainly expire the moment he fled. Instead, he stood up and thanked the General for freeing him.

“Follow me.” Stroud led Mink to the rear door.

Outside, the Machinists busied themselves cleaning up and getting ready to go under the eerie quiet of post-battle shock. The perfect amount of breeze to cut the midday heat blew wisps of clouds through the endless sky. It felt out of place that the weather was so nice.

Perhaps as a means of reestablishing the peace, the Elementalists offered the Machinists all the ore they removed. Soldiers were placing Body bags into a couple of large vehicles. Other machines were piling ore beside the gaping hole that birthed the first reported Tear of God in sixteen thousand years.

“You take time need to adjust,” Stroud offered. “A few hours from now, leave for Freeland. Stay close here.” With that, the General left Mink and joined the troops gathering their dead.

The Reeks led their newly claimed puppets north toward the hudlew grove in a cluster of several hundred black cloaks. Good riddance, Mink thought. He vowed never to forget the voice of the Reek that took Gyov. At least one of the Machinists had to know his name. It grieved him to realize that he actually knew some of those puppets. Gyov’s haunting smile invaded his mind when he remembered that her Body was among those walking into the forest leading to Harvest. He suddenly recalled the music crystal she had given him that morning, which he quickly pulled out of his pocket.

Mink ran his fingers over the surface of the crystal, but each facet he checked in turn was blank. Finally, on the fifth facet of its eight sides, he heard her dulcet voice. She sang the whole song of Oongk Ggyoriah Ahtima to him and then translated it. He was so grateful to have her voice preserved. Closing his eyes, he put his hands in his pockets and visualized her face in front of his, her voice in his head. He listened through the whole translation.

It was the story she had described. A princess loved a man who had to work very hard for very little. Once she opted to struggle with him, they were happy and finally able to marry. What Gyov hadn’t told Mink was that after their marriage, their life got easier. She became a queen, and he her king.

Mink almost put the crystal away after the translation, but before he let it go, her voice continued. She had recorded to him, “Thank you for making me feel better last night. I have been scared about what might happen, but now I know I only need to stay by you. You make me feel safe.” Mink hung his head with remorse and let tears flow.

The recording continued, “I am so glad for you that you get to see your parents and hope you introduce me to them. Maybe you already have. If not, then shame on you. Hmph. But, I trust you are the kind that will have me meet them. You are a unique guy and have a warm heart. I’m rambling now, but I want to also say. You are a good kisser. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Mink put away the crystal. There may have been more to the message, but his heart couldn’t hear it. Not yet. He watched as the last of the black cloaks slipped through the shrubs in the distant hudlew grove, imagining her form gliding among the puppets and recalling how he held her in the vale last night.

“Goodbye, Gyov. Thank you for the crystal. I love you.”

The Elementalists had long since been in the heart of the wilderness and out of view. Mink couldn’t even see the top of the Tear of God, despite how massive it was, over the great distance of what once were ocean depths. He folded his arms over the knife-cut slits in his clothes and walked over to the enormous hole that remained.

A few dozen Machinists had the unenviable task of surfacing and bagging all the bodies that had fallen into the cavern. It helped that the Soil users had raised the ground inside closer to the top and hadn’t Dispelled the Materialized Soil. Hundreds of dead lined the ground between the opening and their transports. The clean up process lasted until dusk.

Separating himself from the morbidity, Mink ventured just far enough to the eastern edge of the plateau to see the line of the Great Barrier Range. He caught the last of the day’s light glinting off the geode now cresting the horizon, a faint but discernable speck made visible across the expanse of the land. That the Elementalists were able to get the Tear of God so far in less than a day was all the proof Mink needed to know that it was real.

Awestruck, Mink squinted as his parents and former allies disappeared over the eastern range with one last shimmer of the geode dropping out of view. He took solace in the fact that they came to possess it. Would they forgive him for not joining them? For allowing them to believe he was dead? That was out of his control. More importantly, he had discovered his Elemental affinity.

Raymond Henri has enjoyed writing from an early age. After exploring a variety of other formats, he just recently started writing novels. His character-driven stories reflect the diversity of the places he has lived and the jobs he has had, focusing on animals and film. He lives in Coastal North Carolina with his wife and two daughters.

Visit the author at:

www.bhcauthors.com