Wind-Scarred (The Will of the Elements, Book 1)

by Sky Corbelli

  Chapter 20

  At Least It's Not Raining

  The next morning, Ezra was wakened by a call to his room. “Mr. Hawkins, your friend is here for your morning exercise routine.” Kirsten's voice sounded entirely too awake for... two in the morning? Ezra was halfway through his shower before he realized that there was no morning exercise routine. He pulled on some clothes and hurried to the front door by way of the kitchen – if he had to be awake he was at least going to eat, darn it – to find out what was going on.

  Mat and Kirsten were talking in the showing room. Wait, Mat and Kirsten were talking?! Ezra paused in the doorway, confused, wondering if this was an odd dream or something. Mat was looking pleased with himself. He said something to Kirsten in a low voice, gesturing to Ezra as he walked in the room, and she... laughed. Not only that! She put her hand on his arm while she was laughing. Kirsten was flirting with Mat! Mat was smiling from ear to ear as he called out, “Hey Ezra, ready for that new training regiment we're starting today?”

  Ezra looked at Mat. He looked at Kirsten. He shook his head a few times. “I think I might still be asleep. I wouldn't really trust anything I said or did at this point in time.”

  “Nah, we both know I'd be Gal if you were sleeping. Probably be wearing less too.” Kirsten laughed at that too! It wasn't even funny! She leaned on Mat lightly, and he clearly loved it. “Yeah, we were gonna get in one last trip to the gym this morning before you locked yourself away for a couple days, remember?” Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she shot Ezra a quick glance, then went back to beaming at Mat. “And speaking of Doe, she knows you're gonna be working on whatever you're doing with Sarah Hughes, right? I seem to recall her being the jealous type...” Mat scratched his stubbly chin, as if stroking an imaginary beard.

  “Oh, yeah. The, uh, testing. Making sure that our prototype can handle the strain. Yeah, yeah... a few days, at least.” Ezra tried to stop giving Mat confused looks, but Kirsten had begun lightly stroking his arm! When did this... hadn't they been... he was missing something here.

  “No time like the present. Let's go, Legacy boy, I'm gonna make you remember this workout.” Mat turned, a serious look on his face, and brought Kirsten's hand up to his lips. “And I'll just have to look forward to next time.” She giggled again, renewing Mat's grin. He was whistling as he sauntered past Ezra, clapping him on the back a little harder than was necessary.

  “If I could just detain you for one moment, Mr. Hawkins.” She turned her smile back to Mat. “Family business, I'm afraid. I won't keep him long, Mat.” Her voice caressed the name. Somehow Mat's grin got even bigger. Ezra wondered how much wider it could grow before Mat's face split in half. It couldn't be that much more.

  Once they were alone, Kirsten's voice returned to its usual 'all business' tone. “This doesn't appear to be something you were planning; will you need my help killing it or cutting it short?”

  Oh god, she's in conspiracy mode. No wonder she seems to be all over the place. “Um, no, I...” Ezra sighed, shaking his head slightly, miming a glance over his shoulder. “I've been expecting this. I believe the Hughes family will use this occasion to make their move on the other front. However...” How had Kirsten said it last night? Ah... “...they made a miscalculation. She's not my type.”

  Kirsten smiled at him conspiratorially, touching his arm lightly. “I'll keep everything running smoothly here. You can count on me.”

  “Oh, and, uh... I'll try to keep Mat from coming around if I can, as well.”

  Kirsten heaved a sigh of relief. “That would be appreciated; I don't know how long I can stand doing that.” A look of concern flashed across her face. “But only if you can manage it without showing our hand.”

  Ezra gave her a confident grin, mimicking her tone. “You can count on me.” He turned and, without looking back, marched through the door.

  Once outside, Mat turned to him and said, “You know, I think I'm finally growing on her. Ladies just can't resist the old Matanane charm for long!”

  Ezra laughed out loud, not wanting to hurt his friend's feelings over this. Who knew, maybe he really would break Kirsten down, some day. He lowered his voice and asked, “So, what's really going on?”

  Mat glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers in the early morning mist. “Got a flag almost an hour ago. Fire-kissed up in the central region, near the blight line.”

  “Blight line?” Ezra asked, always looking for a little more knowledge. “I saw it mentioned a few times in mission reports, but it was never explained.”

  “Tough to explain the thing,” Mat responded cryptically, “You'll see.”

  “You guys never tell me anything,” Ezra complained.

  “What's the fun of having a newbie if you don't torment him?” Sarah ghosted up to them through the mist. “Mat. Hawkins.” She nodded to each of them. “Keep your voices down. I don't know any more than you. We'll be briefed when we get to the Guild.”

  They made it to the Conservatorium, in to the phone booth, and down to the Guild of Sundry. Ezra even got to dial himself in this time. He felt very not-white-rabbit.

  Mr. Blair was waiting for them in the wormhole room and briefed them on their way down the stairs to the hangar. “You'll be heading to a small town called Southedge located on the southern edge of the blight line. We have a small problem with this flag. Thirty six hours ago we confirmed a sudden, violent windstorm in the area which culminated in a tornado touching down on the outskirts of the town and then dispersing. This leaves us in a dilemma with the red flag, which notifies us of a fire-kissed.” Blair sighed as he keyed in a code to open the hangar door. “The town itself is a small trading post, which isn't too surprising given its proximity to the sky stream and the blight line. I took the liberty of appropriating a small stock of the provisions you brought back from your last mission for something exactly like this. You will be able to pose as traders getting in one last run before the onset of winter.”

  “What's our relationship with the contact in the area?” Sarah began looking through the weapons, picking out two of the knives she favored.

  “Jeremy Haldis believes we're... demons, or something. Show up at night in full tactical gear. He's actually part of our problem here. We've dealt with Mr. Haldis several times, and his information is always concise, clear and useful. If he says there is a fire-kissed I'm inclined to believe him. It's possible that the wind-scarred moved on and a fire-kissed came into the area looking for him, but has instead stayed on and is causing trouble.” Mr. Blair's voice said he wasn't quite buying into the theory. “This situation may very well be cut and dry, but it seems complex enough that you may need to do some reconnaissance before actually engaging your target. There may be as many as two elementalists in the area, so tread lightly. I wish you all luck.” He patted Ezra's shoulder as he left the hangar.

  “So...” Ezra began, “...the hangar.”

  Mat grinned. “Nearest port is almost eighty miles southeast of the town, hidden in a bunch of rocks. We'll be taking a skiff to get in and out.” He let out a bark of laughter. “Remember when we set that one up, Sarah? Rob was all like, 'No, you need to get it further back there, what if someone happens to be climbing these rocks out in the middle of nowhere and–'” Mat stopped abruptly, eyes widening, glancing over at Sarah worriedly. She had frozen, hand supporting herself on the weapon rack, eyes squeezed shut. She trembled a little as she took a slow breath. “I'm sorry.” Mat said quietly, turning back to the clothes in the nearby locker.

  Ezra looked back and forth between them, then sidled up next to Mat and started to ask in a low voice, “Who's–”

  “Just drop it.” Mat cut him off. “Bad things happen.” He looked Ezra over. “You'll need a set of tactical gear along with the rest of this stuff. Let's see what we can do.”

  They readied themselves in silence. Sarah picked out several weapons that looked like what crossbows hoped to be when they grew up. “Fire-kissed mess with explosions just by being there,” she sa
id to no-one in particular, voice flat and emotionless. “Guns don't work right around them.”

  Mat picked up a high-powered rifle with an oversized scope. Ezra gave him a questioning look. “In case we have to deal with a wind-scarred.” He shrugged. “Tornadoes take a bunch of power to make, but the wind-scarred who develop the muscle for it usually can't handle finer techniques. Only takes one good shot.” He loaded the gun into the waiting skiff.

  Ezra checked his shoulder harness to make sure it was secure, then looked for a knife. Mat cleared his throat and Ezra turned to him. He was holding out a belt with a twin to his own sword sheathed on it. “You might be passable by now with one of these.” Ezra grinned and took the belt.

  “Let's move out.” Sarah got into the driver's seat of the skiff as Ezra jumped on board and Mat keyed in the wormhole destination. A portal opened up and cold, heavy rain began pouring through.

  “Aw, you're kidding me,” Mat lamented. He quickly gathered up some rain gear and threw it on board as the puddle around the wormhole grew. “Bet it's gonna rain the whole time. Won't be any girls out in that.”

  Sarah brought the skiff to life and shot through the wormhole. They were slapped in the face with a wall of the coldest water Ezra had ever felt. The wormhole closed behind them as they made their way up out of a narrow crevasse and through a tumbling of rocks and boulders. Ezra shivered with cold, pulling his rain gear around him more tightly. “So where's this blight line?” he yelled to Mat over the pounding water.

  “Don't forget about your communicator.” Mat responded through his wryly. “Won't pass too near it till we get close to the town.” He squinted up through the rain at the cloudy sky. “Should still be dark enough when we get there to make contact. I'll spot for you and Sarah.” They skimmed on in silence, rain-blurred landscape sliding into view and then vanishing back into the night.