by Sky Corbelli
Chapter 41
Welcome to Helena
“So what are we up against out here?” Ezra asked his teammates as they skimmed across the countryside. He'd read up on what fire-kissed were capable of: heat manipulation in their immediate area. Their levels of power seemed to vary radically from one fire-kissed to another, and even from one moment to the next. “I got the impression that fire-kissed powers were a little... temperamental.”
Sarah snorted. “Yeah, they can burn things hot, or hotter.” She shook her head. “It seems to have something to do with their passions. You can tell when one is really 'fired up', and you don't mess with them like that. They have less control, sure, but they'll also have more power going for them. I've seen a fire-kissed incinerate a building when he thought his wife was in danger. Strike from an ambush, don't let them get worked up.”
Ezra mulled this over for a while. “There's also... I've seen a number of references to 'Beloved' and 'Besmirched'. Even the last two times we were out here, people seemed to think that we were these Besmirched, and talked about territories. Are they like... some kind of faction within the fire-kissed, or something?”
“Got it in one,” Mat chuckled. “As far as we can tell, all fire-kissed were once Beloved. Some of them disagreed with the people in charge, and their little argument turned messy. When the smoke cleared, there were two factions and some kind of truce that practically divided the world in half. For the most part, it follows the blight line. Beloved rule in the north, Besmirched in the south.” Mat paused as he maneuvered the skiff through a grove of trees. “Another thing you should know: fire-kissed don't fight each other. Not directly, at least. You might see other elementalists out here lay into one another, but never the fire-kissed. We think it's part of their truce.”
“So, what did they fight over? Originally, I mean.” Division in the ranks of the enemy was always a good thing to understand, especially if that enemy was the outside world's only real political power.
Mat laughed quietly as Sarah said, “Gun control.”
“Guns? But I thought that out here...”
“Yeah, no technology... except some of them don't agree with that.” Sarah shook her head. “The Beloved would do things like give their retainers flaming swords or crystals that would shoot out a gout of flame when they were broken. But they would only work near the fire-kissed who created them. The Besmirched wanted more. They found ancient weapons, firearms and the like, started manufacturing ways to give their people more effective means of keeping order.” She shrugged. “The Beloved told them to stop, they fought, and everything burned.”
“Some of their inventions have stuck, though,” Mat chimed in. “There are these crazy air currents, like all the turbulent wind in the world gathered in one place, called the sky streams. From what we've been able to figure out, for a long time the wind-scarred had a monopoly on the market of flying ships. They built up the sky ports and would ship anything to just about anywhere in the world, for a price. The Besmirched came along with ships that could ride the sky streams, no wind-scarred required, and everyone – Beloved included – jumped on board.”
“So, what do we know about this fire-kissed we're after?” Ezra asked, warming to the subject. “Beloved? Besmirched? History of burning things to ground?”
“Never been here. Technically it's Besmirched territory, but the border's close enough that the Beloved must have a thing or two to say about that.” Sarah began rooting through her pack. “Aw, thundering hell. Mat, did you pack any portal rods? I forgot them, and we should probably get something a little closer in case this place becomes important.”
“Wait, you mean... no-one's been out here?”
“You're surprised?” Mat asked. “There are billions of people in the world, Ezra, hundreds of thousands of villages and towns. And yeah Sarah, I have a set in my pack. In fact...” He glanced at the onboard console. “...we should probably start looking for a likely place to set up. We get too much closer and I'm afraid someone might wander over it.”
Sarah nodded, and she and Ezra began scanning for anywhere that looked sufficiently out of the way to hide a wormhole.
==
They found a location about five minutes later. “I really don't see why this is necessary,” Ezra grumbled as he waded through knee-deep muck toward the back of the cave. “It's not like anyone's going to realize there's a cave back here.”
“But what if someone stops to get a drink?” Ezra could hear Mat's grin.
“Then they slip on this flat granite shelf, because an earth-crowned is messing with them, or something,” Sarah continued as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
“Right, right, and supposing they're actually some kind of swimming prodigy, they turn that fall into a dive,” Mat was nearly laughing by this point.
“And maybe it's like, really late in the year, so that the sun could shine down and blind this aquatic wonder. Why, they might think that the muck back there was just really thick water and swim right through it,” Sarah snickered.
“It's pitch black back here,” Ezra growled as he felt around for something solid to affix the portal stick to. “What exactly would you expect them to see?”
“Well, they wouldn't need to see anything, right? Just bump their head into it and feel around, maybe grab onto it for support and press the button for about thirty seconds, opening up a wormhole back to Sanctuary. Think of what Mr. Blair would say, Ezra. We're just looking out for you, man.” Ezra found a place to to secure his portal rod and pulled his arm out of the goop. It popped free with an audible slurp. Mat made a choking sound that might have been a cough.
“There, done.” Ezra began to make his way back toward the entrance. “And you both suck, I hope you know. I'm bringing you each a pocketful of this gunk to demonstrate.”
“Valuable lesson, Hawkins,” Sarah intoned imperiously as Ezra dove through the slime and mud, desperate for the clear water on the other side. “Never be the last person with a rod.”
He resurfaced in time to see the wormhole back to Sanctuary form. Mat checked the readings on the portal stick he had used to call home, nodded once, and cut the connection.
“We going to need any more of those?” Ezra hopped on one foot, trying free his ear of whatever grime had taken up residence there. “I certainly don't have any.”
“Shouldn't need them.” Mat shrugged. “Plus taking them out to begin with is a little risky, which is why only us research teams have access.”
“About fifteen minutes till we get close enough to worry about being seen,” Sarah said. Evidence of the fire had started showing around them, black fingers of charred earth and devastated foliage reaching out into the woodlands. “Another five before Mat and I hoof it in. You're our spotter for this Ezra.” She handed Ezra a data pad with a series of topological maps pulled up. “You may want to review the region surrounding the town for good places to camp out. ”
Ezra blinked at the tablet in his hands, “Camp out?”
Sarah nodded. “You should also familiarize yourself with the operation of the railgun. Wouldn't want you pointing it the wrong way and vaporizing yourself when you pull the trigger.”
He looked at the bulky weapon in dismay. “But... but I don't know the first thing about spotting! I mean, you can't–”
“Just ask if you need help,” Mat said, scowling at Sarah in sharp reprimand. She raised her hands in surrender. “And we practiced with the railgun back at the virtual range in Sanctuary. Remember, the one that I told you to lick for good luck?”
Ezra gave him a flat look, then turned back to the maps as memories of his tongue going numb and staying that way for the rest of the day heated his cheeks.
“There, see? He remembers, no problem,” Mat chuckled.
The rest of the trip passed in relative silence, Ezra picking out a few places on the map to hide the skiff that should give him a clear view of the town. He ran them by Mat and Sarah, and they helped him narrow his choi
ces down to three: a primary and two secondary locations, in case he had to change position or adjust to field conditions. Ezra took over control of the skiff and bid his teammates farewell about half a klick from the road leading into town. Everything was gray with ash as far as the eye could see. The air was uncomfortably warm, and Ezra found himself beginning to sweat as he activated the skiff's holographic camouflage, cresting the hill he had chosen as a lookout point. Even the town of Helena was drab and colorless as the day drifted into twilight.
Ezra pulled up the railgun and sighted down the scope, bringing the town into sharp focus. He was surprised to see that the town itself was actually quite a bit bigger than it had appeared from a distance, a small city, at least.
Well, he thought grimly, it had been before today. Roughly three quarters of Helena had been burned practically to the ground. In fact, upon closer inspection, the fire seemed to have touched nothing within a circle that encompassed the remaining section of town. A clean line was drawn between devastation and normalcy, sometimes passing straight through buildings, denoting where the fire's ravages had stopped.
“We're just outside the town now, Hawkins,” Sarah's voice came over the communicator. “And it's blighted hot. Anything we should know?”
“Oh, sorry.” Ezra quickly swept his view over the town. Not many people were moving around. An old lady carried a bundle of something across the intact village square. She tripped on a raised stone and fell, spilling sticks across the ground. A young man, probably in his late teens, hurried to help her to her feet, stooping to gather the fallen sticks in the process. He shouldered the bundle and seemed to chat amiably with her as he escorted her home. A local vendor was closing up his shop and tossed the kid an apple. He blushed and bowed deeply just as a burly man carrying a large wooden beam walked past and tousled his hair playfully.
“Nothing much to report,” Ezra began. “Seems like a tight-knit place, nothing obviously out of place.” He frowned. Back in Southedge, just suspecting that there was a wind-scarred around causing trouble had put everyone on edge. Even in Arborlen, where no-one had actually been killed, the tension was so thick they had practically been swimming through it. Out here, however, there was nothing like the quiet, helpless terror that had been so present previously. “Something's not right, though,” he continued. “The people down there... they're sad maybe, but they don't look afraid...”
A sudden burst of inspiration hit. “Hold on, I have an idea.” Ezra switched the scope to thermal mode. Immediately the ambient heat of the landscape all around him jumped into view. The fires may have died hours ago, but the raw heat still stained the place. Except down in the untouched portion of town. Ezra carefully adjusted the scope, making out the heat signatures of human bodies, many sleeping after what must have been a trying day. Judging by the number of warm bodies crammed into what must have been makeshift hostels, a significant portion of Helena's population had made it through the fire.
Ezra grinned as the scope flared with color, a huge heat source coming into view. He blinked, momentarily blinded. It might just be an open flame or something, he reminded himself as he switched back to normal view. Don't get too excited. Ezra scanned the area of the hot spot. Nothing was there, except for the kid who had helped the old woman, and all he was doing was going around and lighting lamps around the town square... with nothing but a gesture. “Oh no,” Ezra whispered, heart sinking.
“Oh no? What, what's going on?” Mat's voice was tense. “What did you... hey, did it just get cooler?”
“Mat, Sarah, abort, do not engage,” Ezra said urgently. “I found the fire-kissed, but he's–”
“You found him that fast?” Sarah demanded. “Are you sure it's our guy?”
“Well, he's got a heat signature that's off the chart, and he's the only one still standing around in the square, but that's not why–”
“Ezra, if you've got a clean shot at this guy, with no witnesses, strucking take it, man.” Mat sounded excited. “Easy spotting on your first go, and after that typhoon I had to sit through... thundering beginner's luck. We can do a little fact-finding and be home in time for dinner. I bet–”
“No, Mat, listen,” Ezra interrupted him. “The fire-kissed, the one I spotted,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I think he's on our side.”
