by Sky Corbelli
Chapter 13
The Apples of Arborlen
The wormhole opened onto a sparsely wooded hill. Ezra stepped through and looked around in awe. He had never seen trees so large before. A little animal with a bushy tale went scampering up a tree, pausing only to chatter at them in annoyance. It was a squirrel! He had only ever seen pictures of them.
Ezra looked around until he found a small rod painted to look like a twig standing up from the ground. Exploring a little further, he found a second one embedded in a rock, then triangulated to the third nestled in the trunk of an ancient tree.
“Oh wow,” he said as Mat came through the wormhole and shut it off behind him. “You guys are actually using the portal rods. My dad proposed these as a light-weight way to set up temporary ports. Sanctuary officials deemed them innovative yet impractical, and we never went into mass production. We just get a few orders a year from...” Ezra blinked at his family's Legacy mark on the rod's tip. “You, I guess.”
Mat chuckled as he said, “And oh, how we loathe the little buggers and curse the Hawkins name.” He adjusted his sword, eyes sweeping the forest. “Hiding them is a pain, and you feel like an idiot stomping around in some armpit of the world trying to find a good spot to set it up. You can use any of them to call home and get a wormhole out here if you need it, though.” Mat scratched his head. “But you probably knew that already.”
Ezra nodded. “Access panels two inches from the bottom of each unit, if they're standard design. Press and hold the button for a thirty count, then release. They have a second or two margin of error. You guys put them out here?”
“Welcome to the glorious world of the research team,” Sarah murmured, eyes scanning the area around them. “Probably didn't tell you about that when they roped you in, huh? Let's move out, daylight's wasting.”
They hiked down the hill and toward an open field. Sarah broke off without a word and began to climb a rocky outcropping that overlooked the clearing. “Always have a spotter, sometimes two,” Mat spoke through the communicators as they circled around to enter the clearing from the far side. “Getting surprised out here is never fun.”
“Culbert is in the clearing,” Sarah's voice came through quietly, “alone, unarmed. Everything is green to engage.”
“Making contact,” Mat responded, his mouth hardly moving. He loosened his sword in its sheath, casually keeping a hand near the hilt.
Ezra and Mat stepped out into the clearing. Ahead of them an overweight, balding man was wiping his face with a handkerchief while looking nervously around, his back to them. “Mr. Culbert,” Mat said in a quiet voice.
The man, John Culbert, literally jumped, letting out a short, startled cry. He turned to look at them and, while visibly shaken, sighed in relief. “Oh, it's you. I mean... of course it's you! Just like the last time, just like you said.” He laughed nervously and peered at Ezra. “Where's the other... um, who is this?”
Mat smiled and answered, still keeping his voice quiet and sounding amused. “No names Mr. Culbert. And no questions. You have a problem. We're here to help. Why don't you walk me through what's been going on here.”
“What's been... oh, yes, the wind-scarred. Well, um,” he cleared his throat, “about two months ago he appeared and demanded food and a place to stay. We had a good harvest of apples this year and had already finished trading with the lowland towns for the supplies we would need for winter. Just like we do every year, you know, for things that we can't produce up here, wheat and–”
“Let's just stick to the problem, Mr. Culbert. Why didn't you call us then?”
Culbert cringed at Mat's question, sharp despite his quiet tone. “Well, you know how it is. That is to say, not you, but someone who... wind-scarred rarely stay in one place for too long, and we had enough food to share. Arn... the wind-scarred that is, he kicked us out of the old lumber mill outside town, but we were done using it for the year, so that was alright, and we never even really had to see him or anything. He demanded food, water. Oh, and apples.” Culbert laughed weakly. “Arborlen apples, pride of the region. It was all fine... for awhile, at least.”
Mat nodded. “He started demanding more.”
“Three days ago. Protection money, he called it. We can live comfortably, you see, but we're not a wealthy village. The amount of money that he wanted... it would beggar us. We refused.” Mr. Culbert's face drained of color. “He was... he became angry. He called up the wind, and it was so strong that several children were blown toward him. He grabbed them and told us that with so many people to protect, maybe we should double it. That we should think of the children, that it would be a shame if anything were to happen to them. He walked out of town, back up to the mill, pulling them along with him.”
“And you just let him go? No-one tried to stop him?” Ezra asked incredulously.
John Culbert looked at him like he was speaking another language and whispered, “He's a wind-scarred. I mean, I know that you can all do... things.” He shuddered. Clearly, the man was more uncomfortable with whatever these 'things' Ezra and Mat could do than with what this elementalist, Arn, was capable of. “But we're just normal people. We can't stand up to a wind-scarred. We just want everything to go back to normal.”
“We understand, Mr. Culbert, and we'll do everything in our power to bring this to an expedient resolution.” Mat gave Ezra a warning look. “Why don't we take a walk back to the village and you can show us where this Arn is holding your young ones.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I mean, thank you, thank you so much. Arborlen thanks you,” Culbert gushed as he started away at a brisk pace. Mat and Ezra followed.
“You get all that?” Mat's voice came through to Ezra loud and clear.
“Hostage situation,” Sarah responded. “I'm en route to Arborlen now. Maps place the lumber mill about four klicks out, up on a hill.”
“What's your take on this?”
“Wind-scarred normally just take what they want. Using hostages suggests that he couldn't stand up to real organized resistance. Also, he's out in the middle of nowhere. Hasn't caused any real physical harm to anyone.” Sarah paused as if considering something. “If he were strong enough, he'd be hitting a serious township or small city, maybe go pirate on the sky stream. I advise we engage him directly.”
“What's the sky stream?” Ezra managed to say it while hardly moving his mouth.
Mat winced. “Not so loud. I'll explain it later. So, we go in guns blazing? Or maybe a bait and shoot, minimize the hostage risk.”
“I like that.” Ezra could almost hear Sarah's smile. “And I'm sure that Hawkins will make a marvelous stalking horse.”
“Wait, what?” Had they just decided to use him as bait?
“Don't worry Ezra, you'll be fine,” Mat tried to reassure him. “This Arn guy sounds pretty small-time. You just walk up, get him outside, then hit the deck. We'll do the heavy lifting.” Mat sighed. “We should probably try to pull our shots. Disable him if we can, give the town a little justice on their own, empower them. You know, all that stuff Blair goes on about.”
“You guys call him Blair too?” Ezra managed his voice much better this time.
“Village is clear. And as far as we can tell, it's his real name. He just likes to come off as mysterious to the newbies, Hawkins.” Ezra blushed a bit at Sarah's wry voice, feeling rather gullible.
They came out of the woods and on to a well-packed dirt road just outside the small town. A quick look around as they walked through showed a handful of homes and a large town hall that backed up to a well-kept orchard. Several women were drawing water from a well in the middle of town, speaking softly while managing the children around them.
A little boy noticed the men approaching and gaped openly at the sword hanging from Mat's side. He broke away from his mother and ran up to them, then, apparently finding Mat a little too frightening, turned to Ezra and asked, “Are you warriors here to bring Elisha home?”
Ezra glanced at Mat, wh
o shrugged. Dropping to one knee so he was eye to eye with the boy, Ezra said, “We are going to do everything we can to bring them back.”
The boy nodded and reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny stick. “This is my treasure. A fire-kissed warrior gave it to me and said that I could be like him when I used it.” He held it out to Ezra and continued in a somber voice, “I think you might need it more than I do.”
Ezra suppressed a smile and gravely took the crude match from the boy, slipping it into a pocket in his pants. “I will carry this with honor.”
The boy studied Ezra's face for a moment, then nodded again, as if he found it acceptable. He whirled and ran back to his mother, grabbing her leg and holding on tight, moving to watch them walk by while standing behind her. She reached down and patted his head with a sad little smile, then turned haunted eyes to Mat and Ezra. Mat gave her a broad grin and tipped his hat as they made their way toward the far end of town.
“Pretty lady,” Mat murmured thoughtfully. Ezra looked at him in surprise. He shrugged, the smile still resting easily on his face. “Doesn't hurt to admire. Plus, I bet she'll be grateful when we come back.” He winked at Ezra.
“Womanizer,” came Sarah's amused voice just as they reached the small path leading away from the village.
“We'll bring your people home Mr. Culbert. You can count on it.” With a brief nod of his head Mat strode up the trail, Ezra close behind him.
“May the Mother watch you and keep you.” Ezra heard John Culbert recite the blessing as they left him at the forest's edge.
