Earth God

by Jon Messenger

  “I love you, Wilkes,” Sean said. “I don’t say that often, but I love you.”

  “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. My wife taught me that.”

  Sean stopped chewing and lowered the protein bar from his lips. “Your wife and family… they’re safe, aren’t they? I mean, you’re not out here because they’re… well…”

  Wilkes shook his head. “Thank you for your concern, Yank, but no, they’re fine. After you set us down here in France, I met some of the resistance fighters. They offered safe haven for my family, and I offered to help them fight. I want to be with my family, especially after everything we went through in London. But fighting is what I do. Some men write poetry, some men cook exquisite meals, and some men excel at putting a bullet between the eyes of Fire Warriors. I’m one of the latter.”

  Sean nodded. “I’m glad one of us is. I haven’t exactly proven myself all that useful in a fight, no matter what Jessica would have you believe.”

  Wilkes took the canteen back and took a drink. He stared at Sean intently, as though choosing his words carefully. As he lowered the canteen from his lips, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “That’s not what I’ve heard, Yank. I heard you handled yourself just fine when you and Jessica were threatened.”

  Sean blanched, knowing without a doubt to what he was referring. He glanced toward the front of the barn, where one of the Frenchmen was standing guard.

  “I do apologize, Sean,” Wilkes said hastily, noting Sean’s obvious discomfort. “I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject. I just wanted you to know that you’re stronger than you realize. You’re a good man.”

  Sean took another bite, filling his mouth as an excuse not to continue the conversation. He chewed loudly.

  Wilkes nodded as he capped his canteen. “All right, mate. I need to check on the men, to make sure everyone’s in their right place and not drinking a bottle of wine or smoking a fag or just generally being a Frog.”

  The Brit stood and patted Sean on the shoulder. “Have a good night, Yank.”

  Sean didn’t look at him, staring instead at the unmoving cocoon as though it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. It was, he realized, though that wasn’t why he wouldn’t take his eyes from the icy cylinder.

  Wordlessly, Wilkes stepped away and walked out the front of the barn, leaving Sean alone with his thoughts.

  The Fire Warrior crept through the woods, avoiding the larger pools of light that filtered through the canopy above. Each step was methodical, choosing areas with as few branches and other foliage as possible, so as not to make any noise. His hands were empty, but he was hardly unarmed. The fire brewed within him, ready to spill forth at his whim.

  Through the trees ahead, he could begin to see the peak of the barn’s roof. The red paint that had once smoothly covered the exterior of the barn had long ago faded to a deep pink. Long strips of paint had peeled completely away, leaving the exposed wood visible beneath.

  He paused behind a thick bush and examined the path ahead. The underbrush was thick but tapered away near the edge of the tree line. From the edge of the trees, it would be a short run to the front of the barn and the Wind Warrior within. Like a tug in his guts, he could feel waves of elemental power pouring from within the barn. He wasn’t alone in sensing Xander; there were nearly a dozen other Fire Warriors spread out through the nearby trees, all approaching the barn.

  The Fire Warrior glanced left and right but saw nothing of his counterparts. Even in the daylight, the darkened leather armor blended into the shadows between the trees. It didn’t matter to the warrior, however. Despite being part of a team, he had only one interest, to capture or kill the Wind Warrior. Their master promised nobility rights and the lands that accompanied it to whoever captured or took Xander’s life. The Fire Warrior smiled at the thought; he could see himself as Lord of France.

  He scanned the way ahead once more before standing from his concealment. Nimbly stepping around the bush, he stepped toward the barn.

  He never saw the knife emerge from behind the tree beside him, only felt it as it punched through his armor and slid painfully into his body. The Fire Warrior choked on a cry of anguish, though a gurgle was all that escaped his lips.

  Looking up, he met the stern gaze of the dark-skinned Brit. Leftenant Wilkes didn’t offer a smile or a nod of understanding as he lowered the dying man to the ground. With a lurch, Wilkes jerked the knife free, ignoring the small spray of blood that accompanied the weapon’s withdrawal. With the blade free of his lungs, the Fire Warrior’s breath became impossible as the sensation of drowning overwhelmed him. Seconds later, the warrior’s eyes fluttered shut and a final gurgling sigh escaped.

  Wilkes peered through the woods, ensuring there were no other hidden Fire Warriors nearby. Seeing none, he wiped the blood from his blade and turned back toward the barn.

  Emerging from the woods, he met a couple of the French resistance fighters. Wilkes offered a thumbs-up while arching his eyebrows inquisitively. The Frenchmen nodded, and the Brit smiled in response.

  “All clear,” he said.

  In response, other Frenchmen returned from their positions in the woods. Jessica stepped out of the barn’s door and approached Wilkes.

  “It’s done?” she asked.

  “Aye, it’s done, love,” he replied.

  “That makes, what, seven or eight patrols in the past couple of days?”

  Wilkes counted quickly on his fingers. Eventually, he merely shrugged. “Something like that.” The British officer pointed toward the barn with the tip of his blade. “Your man is drawing them like moths to a flame. Is there a way to shut him off?”

  Jessica glanced over her shoulder. “I wish I knew how. Are you all going to be able to keep holding off the Fire Caste if they keep coming?”

  “So long as they keep coming as they have, in groups of ten or less, then sure. If they get smart and come at us with any numbers, it might get really ugly really fast.”

  Jessica sighed. “I’ll let Sean know. And thank you, all of you, for everything you’ve been doing for us.”

  “No worries, love. Xander’s our best chance of setting the world right again. Even these dense, bloody Frogs recognize that.”

  “Imbécile!” one of the Frenchmen nearby yelled before shoving Wilkes. The resistance fighter went on to yell a string of unintelligible words that Jessica assumed was mostly laden with profanity. Wilkes yelled back, mostly in English but with some poorly pronounced French thrown in for good measure.

  Jessica turned away from the arguing men and went back to the barn. Stepping into the dark interior, she pulled the door closed behind her. The barn wasn’t completely dark. Light still filtered through the slats of the wooden walls and the loft door was still open, allowing a single, wide beam of light to pour onto the barn’s floor. The sunlight wasn’t the only illumination, however. Near the back of the barn, a faint blue light splashed across the back wall, radiating from the cocoon.

  Jessica approached the icy cylinder. As she rounded the corner of one of the horse corrals, she found Sean sitting on the three-legged stool, perpetually watching Xander.

  “Any change?” she asked as she ran her hand through Sean’s hair.

  Sean shook his head. “Nothing. How long do you think this is going to go on?”

  “Elemental cocoons are a little outside my area of expertise,” she admitted.

  Sean looked up at her. His expression was strained. “How long do you think we can continue like this? They’re getting closer every day, aren’t they?”

  Jessica sat in the hay beside him, trying to keep her face calm and expressionless. “Sure, they’re getting closer, but Wilkes and his men have it under control.”

  “For now,” Sean replied, “but you’ve seen their fires in the distance. They’re not so distant anymore. It’s only a matter of time before they reach the barn in mass. We need him to wake up. I need him to wake up.”

  She brought her knees und
erneath her and knelt so that she could put her arms around his shoulders. “He’ll wake up. You know Xander, he never moves with a sense of urgency. He’ll wake up on his own time, right when we need him most.”

  Sean looked at her and arched an eyebrow. “Are we thinking about the same Xander? I seem to remember he’d never show up on time, always a couple hours after he was needed most.”

  Jessica laughed softly. “Well, then, let’s hope he really is a different man now.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “You need to relax. Go, have some fun. Have Wilkes show you how to shoot that pistol of yours.”

  Sean frowned. “I thought you didn’t want me using the pistol.”

  “No, I didn’t want you using the pistol when I was sure you were going to accidently shoot one of the two of us. Now that we have someone around who knows how to properly use it, it might be useful again. Go. Go do what boys do when they get together in big groups. Pound your chest, shoot guns, and talk about your female conquests.”

  Sean laughed despite his frustration. “It won’t be a long conversation. I only have one conquest.” He blanched as he realized how that sounded. “Not that you’re a conquest!”

  She put her finger to his lips, stopping him before he started too long a diatribe. “Sure I am, and I’m a damn fine-looking conquest. Now go be a boy.”

  Sean leaned forward and kissed her before standing and walking toward the front of the barn. Jessica stole his seat as soon as he stood, offering a wave as he exited the barn. Her smile lingered after he left, but worry lines crept into the corners of her eyes as she turned back toward the cocoon.

  “Sean’s right, you jerk,” she muttered. “You’re always late to everything. The more important the event, the later you were. Don’t be you, this time, Xander.”

  She reached out and placed her hand on the ice, ignoring the biting chill. “For once in your life, just don’t be you.”

  The ocean sped by below the dragon as it flew toward its goal. It could feel the Earth Elemental in the distance. In slumber, it wasn’t trying to hide its presence, nor did it have a reason to believe it was in danger. The Elementals had always had a nonaggression pact against one another. It was unfathomable that one of the four would attack another.

  Until now.

  The small island appeared ahead at the furthest reaches of the dragon’s vision. Dense, black smoke concealed much of the horizon as three small volcanoes, one at each corner of the island, belched ash and lava into the air. The vibrant yellows and red of the lava flows were visible beneath the hardened, black crust as the magma cascaded down the sides of the hills. As the lava met the ocean waves below, it hissed angrily.

  The Fire Elemental smiled at the parallel to its own existence. Water and fire meeting one another, neither one giving way yet reacting in anger to one another’s presence. Much like in reality, however, the fire was winning. Every time the lava hardened by the cool waters, it created more landmass, across which the seemingly endless lava flows poured. The lava was winning this war, much like the Elemental was winning its war.

  As the island grew closer, the dragon slowed its approach. It dropped lower to the ocean waves until it was merely skimming the surface. The island rose before it, its sandy beaches marred by ash and carved by erupting volcanoes. Large boulders, blasted free from the caps of the island’s volcanoes during their violent eruptions, littered the sand. Just beyond the sand, there were larger toppled stones. The dragon sneered at their appearance. Coarse faces had been carved on the blockish stone, silent guardians placed around the perimeter of the tropical island.

  Only a single head remained upright. The face was far too familiar, a visage it had seen too many times during the initial meetings of the Elementals. Bringing its back claws to bear, the dragon struck the stone face as it passed, shattering the carving.

  The Fire Elemental flew to the center of the island before landing, rearing up like a conquering king returning home.

  “I know you’re here, Earth,” it cried out, pawing at the ground beneath its claws. “I know you’re slumbering but even asleep, you must have sensed the shift in power. Wake up. We have much to discuss, you and I.”

  The island remained silent, save for the continuous rumble of erupting volcanoes. The dragon lowered its upper body until its claws sank into the earth. It drummed its fingers across the stone ground, ignoring the sparks that flew as its nails struck the bedrock beneath the loose soil.

  “Your minion has failed. The one you created to harness the might of the four of us, I destroyed him in combat. You were a fool if you thought he’d be enough to stop me.”

  Its ire rose as the island remained still. It knew the Earth Elemental could hear it, even as in slumber. Much like the Fire Elemental had been when trapped in its stone prison—a prison created by the Earth Elemental, it reminded itself—it was aware of the goings on of the planet around it. The Earth Elemental surely knew the dragon sat upon its soil, only feet above its head.

  Clenching its claws tightly, it ripped soil from the ground and threw it into the air. Handfuls of dirt went sailing as it dug toward its adversary hidden far below. When it hit bedrock, it dragged its nails across the stone, savoring the gouges it created and the sparks that flew.

  The dragon’s wrath was matched by the intensity of the nearby volcanoes. They erupted again in the presence of their elemental master, spewing ash and molten rock high into the air.

  “If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you,” the Fire Elemental bellowed. “Failing that, I’ll simply bury you and your island beneath tons of molten lava, trapping you forever in a prison much like you did to me.”

  It raised its clawed hand and drove it down onto the stone. To the dragon’s surprise, the stone split, a fissure racing away in both directions from the point of impact. For a moment, the Fire Elemental foolishly believed it had torn through the Earth Elemental’s defenses. That moment faded as the entire island began shaking violently.

  The earthquake began as a tremor, shifting the dirt beneath the dragon’s feet. It stepped back unsteadily, searching for purchase on the uneven ground. As it spread its stance for support, the earthquake intensified. Stones fell from the sides of the volcanoes in avalanches that had nothing to do with their ongoing eruptions. Trees tumbled and fell, uprooted by the heaving of the land.

  Beneath the dragon’s feet, the fissure spread wider, opening a chasm to a black void to the heart of the island. The dragon stumbled backward, fleeing from the rumbling ground. The edges of the chasm, jarred loose by the earthquake, surged upward and tossed the dragon from its feet. It collapsed heavily onto the ground, rolling away from the impact even as it tucked its wings protectively against its body.

  With the dragon on its back, the earthquake immediately subsided. The ground, which had been violently jarred mere seconds before, grew still. The Fire Elemental craned its neck toward the chasm, sensing a great surge of elemental power.

  The Earth Elemental had awoken.

  From the wide chasm, a figure began to emerge. His head was elongated and crude, as though carved as a child’s plaything. The nose was roughly hewn, as from stone, and the edges of the face were planar. His blockish features bordered human and alien, just familiar enough to be decidedly human, yet odd enough that he held no relation to what humanity would eventually become.

  The rest of the Earth Elemental’s body emerged as well, oversized and disproportionate. His arms were too long and bulky compared to his torso. The legs seemed too frail to support his weight, but the Earth Elemental stood defiantly in the face of the prone dragon.

  “You’re right, Fire,” the Earth Elemental said. “We do have much to discuss.”

  The dragon rolled to its feet, refusing to remain defenseless in the face of its worst nemesis. It narrowed its draconian eyes, staring angrily at its peer who had trapped the dragon within the cave for so many millennia.

  “I know what you’ve done,” the dragon hisse
d.

  The Earth Elemental’s face remained impassive and unemotional, like the stone from which it had been carved. “What have I done?”

  “Don’t play the fool. You’ve tried to subvert my claim to the planet by creating Xander Sirocco.”

  “I’m sure I have no idea of what you speak.” The stone elemental turned away from the dragon and began descending back into its island. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to continue my sleep until it’s the turn of the Earth Caste once more.”

  “Don’t turn your back on me!” A jet of flames spilled from the dragon’s mouth, igniting the scrub grasses beside the fissure. The Earth Elemental paused and turned slowly back toward the Fire Elemental.

  The stone-headed elemental stared at Fire for a long moment before speaking, choosing its words carefully in opposition to the Fire Elemental’s brashness. “Xander Sirocco is a Wind Warrior and, unless I’m sadly mistaken, it’s still the Wind Caste’s turn. It’s not I who is subverting your chance to lead but rather you subverting Wind’s.”

  The dragon shook its head. “No, no, no. You won’t play the part of the unassuming wise man with me. He is no Wind Warrior, any more than I’m the Water Elemental. He’s a vessel, a means to usurp my authority. Don’t think I don’t realize this was all your idea. I know that neither Water nor Wind were smart enough to design a vessel like the young Wind Warrior. He practically stinks of you.”

  The Earth Elemental narrowed his eyes to the sound of stones grinding together. “Why have you awoken me? What is it you want of me?”

  “I want what’s rightfully mine! It is my turn to rule. You had yours, Water hers, and Wind was finishing. It was my turn, and you’ve tried to take that from me!”

  The stone creature crossed his lengthy arms across his chest, his hands long enough to rest upon its shoulders as he watched the dragon before him. “If you ‘destroyed’ him, as you said, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. There’s something else, isn’t there?”