The nickname that Mink had spontaneously thought up circulated through the crowd in hushed voices. Blin shook his head and pretended it didn’t bother him. Mink really had felt bad about hurting Blin enough yesterday to cause half of his hand to be replaced, and yet relished having his public retaliation fizzled out. Mink knew that Blin had only brought it on himself, but looking into his eyes, he knew payback would not be pleasant.
Thoy appeared, weaving his way to Blin’s side. They whispered amongst themselves, shooting Mink looks that conveyed a combination of disappointment, frustration, and pity. Being a Spirit user like Mink’s dad, Thoy had most likely maintained a distance while keeping Mink in his sight, using the Eavesdropping effect on him. Mink caught himself worrying for a split second that his parents’ mission might have been found out, and promptly supressed the thought with concern over Blin’s attitude. Then Boun and Thoy turned Blin away and the three of them walked off across the backyard.
“Come on,” Dreh led Mink in the opposite direction. “It’s over. Now it’s time to show you a little game I just came up with.”
Pirk hurried up to Dreh, tackling him. “Dreh! Thank you so much for the shoes! Look, look, look.” Pirk showed off the woven Wood wrapping her feet against a thick cork sole. The way Dreh had strapped the Wood over the feet allowed for full movement while staying securely on. “I’ve decided to forgive you for being so late.”
“Well, lucky me. You remember Mink, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen you before,” Pirk said squarely to Mink’s face. “What was that all about?”
Dreh answered for Mink, but Pirk kept her gaze locked on him. “Those guys always pick on Mink because he doesn’t know his Element yet.”
“Sparkle,” Pirk giggled, breaking her attempt at intimidating Mink and seemingly unsurprised about his lack of Element.
Pulti hip-checked Mink. “You handled yourself really well.”
“What, by standing there?” Mink laughed at himself. Without Dreh and Pulti, he wouldn’t have been standing long. Then again, if not for Dreh, he wouldn’t even be at the party.
“I’m going to go talk to Boun. Nothing like that will happen again tonight.” Pirk started off and then turned around with arms raised, her enthusiasm undampened by the night’s interruption. “It’s my party!”
Dreh, Pulti, and Mink drifted over to the unpopulated, darker side of the yard along the fence. Glow crystal lanterns were hung from lines of rope, their light not reaching quite this far accross the yard, perhaps as a means of corralling guests closer to the house. Just Mink’s rotten luck that Thoy was attending the party, and with reason to use Eavesdropping on him. It would therefore be more important to repress thoughts of his parents, but these times of being bullied were when he tended to think of them the most. As the embarrassment of having been the center of attention subsided, Mink wondered how Dreh and Pulti dealt with such things. They appeared to be completely unfazed by the confrontation.
“How’s that treating you?” Dreh tapped his fingers against Mink’s Turgid chest.
“Better than electrocution. Takes some extra effort to move but, you know, I’m used to it. I appreciate you being excited about showing me your little game, but I could really use a dark nutty.”
“I’ll go,” Pulti offered. “I need more anyway. Those rotheads are a real buzzkill.”
Dreh and Mink watched Pulti rush off.
Mink turned to face Dreh. “I think she’s working up some liquid courage for you, man.”
Dreh grabbed the back of his neck. “Mink, I love you. But you are one clueless little puppet sometimes.”
MINK STOOD dumbly, irritated that Dreh would be so cold and dismissive. It didn’t seem right for him to discredit the idea of being with Pulti when she was looking so hot. Even though Mink only promised to be there thirty minutes, if he could get Dreh and Pulti to dance together, it may be worth staying later. He watched Dreh crouch down and rub some dirt on his hands.
The party had lost interest in them and resumed normal chatter and festivities. Dreh remained low to the ground as he chanted the Materialization effect, Construct,
“I bring the Wood into this world.
My power makes it manifest.
Newly formed flowing from my palms.
I can change its shape with my hand.
My Wood builds improvements to life.
By my intention be defined.
My creation ends with a fist.
I create Wood upon my reach.”
The Wood growing from both of Dreh’s hands fused together seemlessly along the ground, contouring into the shape of a leg. He slowed down, allowing the Wood to fill in the space for the torso, and carefully shaped his Materialized figure up to the head. After the head was formed, Dreh scooped the Wood down the neck to add shoulders and arms. The arms brought him back down to the hips so he could make the other leg without having to stop.
At the feet, Dreh sculpted a solid, flat base and stepped on it to bring the figure to a standing position while sweeping his hands up the back. He brought his hands over the shoulders, down the front to the feet, back up over the shoulders, continuing to spread the Wood over the figure in this way to cover it with a cloak. On the last pass, after the cloak had been finished, Dreh brought his hands over the back of the head, cupped them around the face, and then made fists with both of his hands, ending the effect.
Especially in the low light, the dark Wood color Dreh used gave the cloaked figure an unsettling resemblence to a Reek. The likeness was a little rough but still enough to send a shiver down Mink’s spine. Nothing was more perverse or revolting than the Reeks, who worshipped death and controlled corpses commonly called puppets.
“What do you plan to do with that thing?” Mink asked as Dreh backed up and took a knee, admiring his handiwork.
“Whew. That took more energy than I expected. I must still be worn out from driving all day.” Dreh grabbed some dirt and rubbed it virgorously into his hands. “A target game,” he explained, standing. “Kill the Reek.”
Pulti arrived with a few bottles of nutty in her hands. “Guys! Feel these! Pirk made Boun freeze them. Oh, they’re gonna be so good.” She extended a bottle to Mink and gave a start, finally noticing the dummy Dreh had made. “The rotting mess is that?”
Mink almost dropped the bottle as soon as he grabbed it. It was so cold it burned. He rubbed the frost off the label. Rusgert, the same kind he always had with his dad. He yanked the cork out, took several gulps, and then felt Dreh’s hand gently lowering his bottle.
“Easy, champ. This game’s for you,” Dreh explained. “Don’t lose your head yet.”
Mink toasted Pulti.
“You’re welcome,” Pulti beamed.
“So, tell me about it, man. I’m curious.”
Rather than directly addressing Mink, Dreh yelled to the crowd, “Can I please have everyone’s attention?” The partygoers looked Dreh’s way but continued their conversations. A couple of guests noticed the cloaked figure and gasped, pointing it out to their neighbors. A wave of curiosity spread throughout the crowd, piquing interest in Mink’s corner of the yard.
Satisfied with the attention he was getting, Dreh went on, “Allow me, kind sirs and noblewomen, to present to you part of this evening’s entertainment! The soon-to-be-popular party game of ‘Kill the Reek!’” Dreh’s showmanship impressed Mink about as much as his skill with Wood. “You heard right. Everyone gets a chance to fatally strike the Reek!”
A bolt of Lightning streaked across the yard with an echoing boom and struck the dummy’s right shoulder, leaving short-lived flames on the cloak.
“I win,” Blin shouted from a distance. “Fast kill.”
“No. Fast miss. You have to hit the neck where the cloak opens, Sparkle. Now let me finish explaining. No effects! Assuming that no one else brought weapons to the party, we will use these.” Dreh pulled out a flatwrap from his jacket pocket and opened it, showing off a set of three spikes.
The way they glinted in the light, Mink could tell the spikes weren’t made out of stone, glass, or crystal. “Are those metal?” he asked in a hushed voice.
Dreh nodded with a devious smile.
“Where did you get them?”
“Family heirlooms, champ. Let me finish.” Dreh readdressed the crowd. “With these spikes, you have three chances to strike the neck of the Reek without using effects. Everyone who hits the neck will win a Wooden object of their choice, created by yours truly. If all three spikes strike the neck, I’ll even Imbue the object for free! Step right up, don’t be shy!”
“How many puppets does the Reek have?” a voice from the crowd asked, followed by laughter.
“Just one. Sparkle,” Dreh pointed at Blin. “So you know it’s hunting for more. Kill or be killed, people.” The crowd roared.
Mink stole a look over at Blin, who didn’t appear to relish his new role as party whipping boy, but he was dealing with it better than Mink would’ve thought. In no time at all, a line had formed before Dreh, who made Mink wait at the tail end. It was soon decided that anyone who missed the neck all three times would become the Reek’s puppet for the rest of the party. The line moved more quickly than Mink expected, considering how carefully most people were aiming. Many attempts missed the dummy completely, which required a time-out while someone fetched a spike from the dark. A dozen or so people managed to hit the neck once. One person, twice. But, no one had hit the neck three times.
Mink drank his Rusgert, realizing Dreh’s plan behind the game. Almost everyone at the party was useless without their Element. Mink had worked extra hard on his weapon training, as it was all he had to defend himself. He could hit the neck even if he were drunk. Sober, all three attempts would land a bulls-eye. He wouldn’t get another drink until after he showed everyone how it was done. For now, he and Pulti amused themselves by taking a sip every time the Reek gained a new puppet. He was running out of nutty.
At last Mink’s turn came up. The crowd degraded to chaos as the puppets went around harassing people in good humor. No one paid much attention when Dreh handed the spikes to Mink, for which he was grateful. Just because he knew he could hit the neck with all three, didn’t mean he wanted an audience while he did it. In his periphery, Mink caught a few people pointing and snickering as “Blankey” took up the weapons.
“Do something flashy,” Dreh advised under his breath. “Remember that old Machinist knife we found in Ontillustad a few months ago? You couldn’t miss. That’s why I brought these. Closest things I had.”
Mink turned the spikes over in his hand. They had simple round handles. Two blades bisected each other to form a plus-sign. As Mink got used to them, he did notice that the balance between the blade and handle was very close to the Machinist knife Dreh referred to. How was he supposed to be flashy, though? When they were playing with the knife, he didn’t have the Turgidity effect. He wouldn’t be able to make his regular throwing motion. He’d have to put his whole Body into it.
“You got this, champ,” Dreh encouraged, stepping to the side.
Mink drew more attention as he backed away from the Reek, doubling the distance everyone else had used. Maybe it was the Rusgert talking, but Mink was going to prove that his Elemental lack hadn’t made him incapable. Satisfied with his position, he jumped up and spun around, letting the first spike fly before his foot landed. He kicked his other foot around to add to the momentum of his spin and loosed the second spike while nearly sitting as he turned.
With his back to the Reek dummy, Mink now jumped with both legs into a backflip. When he sent the third spike flying, he was completely upside down. Landing in a push-up position looking away from the target, Mink relied on the applause to verify that all three spikes had found their mark. More than that, it just felt right. He stood up, slow and cool.
Pulti shot straight to Mink’s side. “That was amazing!” She squeeled, and hung off of his neck. “Don’t forget who taught you how to backflip,” she reminded him coyly, her breath thick with nutty. She smiled at him without talking, glassy-eyed and blushing.
“Thanks,” Mink said. “I’m actually glad I—”
A bolt of Lightning cracked across the yard and struck the spikes on the dummy in a shower of sparks. Startled, Mink broke away from Pulti. The head and upper torso of the Reek were completely gone.
“Looks like I killed the Reek, huh?” Blin boasted. “Didn’t miss that time.”
“Those are antiques, Sparkle!” Dreh took his riding gloves out of his pocket and put them on. He picked up the spikes and inspected them. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage these.” Unfolding his flatwrap, Dreh put them away. He nodded to the crowd, “Thanks for playing, everyone. Game’s over.”
Mink looked over at Blin, who appeared pleased with himself despite having several looks of disapproval cast in his direction. A group formed around Mink, pouring on congratulations and assaulting him with questions. As Pulti began to edge away with her empty bottle, Mink pulled her close again. He wasn’t about to face the onslaught alone.
WHILE MINK was busy gladhanding the last of the crowd congratulating him on his marksmanship, four Wood users built a stage at the very back of the yard, complete with a wall behind it to amplify acoustics. When they had it finished, Pirk jumped onto the stage to thank everyone for coming to her fifteenth birthday. Now Mink understood why the party was so huge. The fifteenth year of age was a very big deal to Elementalists, beginning the first ten-year phase of adulthood. He had taken Pirk to be twelve or thirteen. Before leaving the stage, she introduced a band comprised of her classmates.
Mink had celebrated his fifteenth about a year and a half ago. At the time, his humble gathering with Dreh and Pulti was perfect. He had stayed up all night with just the people who cared about him the most. There wasn’t a crowd, no big mess to clean up, no need to buy extra food. But now that Mink was part of a full-on fifteenth birthday party and actually enjoying himself, he wished he could have had a bigger celebration.
As the band took the stage and the attention away from Mink, they looked very much like wannabe musicians trying too hard to be professionals. But Mink was impressed as soon as they started playing. He urged Dreh and Pulti to follow him closer to the stage. This might be a good chance to start hooking them up, if the band would just play a song they could dance to.
The trio wove their way through the crowd, Mink receiving the occassional pat on the back for his skill with the spikes, but the notoriety was fading fast. Not that Mink minded a whole lot. For the first time he could remember, he was at a party without having effects put on him in jest. Pulti went to gather some more nutties.
Mink felt compelled to work his way right up to the stage, and even started dancing. The whole area surrounding the stage was alive with partygoers stomping, spinning, shaking, and singing. Pulti came back with a Wooden bucket of frosty bottles which she proudly set at Dreh and Mink’s feet. Mink grabbed one, uncorked it, and took it in greedily. Dreh and Pulti hopped and twisted close by.
A few dozen Air users got above the crowd and danced with their Sky Step effect over everyone’s heads. Mink laughed at the sight of them. He felt in love with the world. Catching sight of Blin, he even gave him a smile and a nod. Blin returned half a smile before turning his back to Mink.
“I’m really glad you brought me here,” Mink confessed to Dreh, putting an arm around his buddy’s shoulders.
“I thought you would be. I guess it’s a good thing you came back early.”
This sobered Mink a bit. He had temporarily forgotten about his parents being out at Rift Ridge. Worry crept into his mind, but he flushed it out with nutty. The group did an excellent cover of one of his favorite songs and he lost himself in it to further escape the things he couldn’t control.
Pulti latched onto Mink’s arm. “Dance with me.”
Mink noticed that standing was a tad difficult for her, let alone dancing. Still, if she was in the mood to dance with someone, this might be his be
st shot at playing matchmaker. He waved Dreh closer.
“Pulti needs a dancing partner. I’ve got something to do right now. Can you dance with her?”
Dreh frowned at Mink. “What on Georra have you got to do that’s more important?”
“Watch.” Mink gave Dreh a wink and a smile.
He pried Pulti from his arm and presented her to Dreh. She made a grand theatrical gesture and laughed. Mink thought to himself, so far, so good. He turned to the stage and leaned up to the singer.
“Are you taking requests?” Mink asked at the end of the song.
“Depends. What’ve you got in mind?”
“As the Falling Rain.”
The singer asked around to the six other band members. Four of them thought they could do it, but the singer returned to Mink saying, “I don’t know it that well. Sorry. You got another one?”
“Back me up?” Mink pressed.
“What?”
“Could you back me up? I can play the runhammer and lead on vocals.”
The singer laughed and extended a hand to Mink. “Sure, sharpshooter. I could use a break.”
That’s exactly the break Mink could use, too. The singer took some Water and addressed the crowd. “By now, you all know this guy,” he indicated Mink, who was already putting the strap of the runhammer over his head. “He’s going to join us for a tune and you might want to get those spikes ready in case he rots.”
Mink positioned the runhammer diagonally across his Body and slipped the tips of his fingers into the hammer keys. He checked the glide over the strings and it ran comfortably from shoulder to hip. This one was quality, made from natural Wood, unlike his beat-up, second-hand Materialized Wood instrument at home. As he checked the tune, the slits carved into the base resonated with delicious sound.
Mink played the intro and the rest was automatic. It was a song he knew very well. He didn’t have the best singing voice, but hoped his runhammer skills would make up for it.
Elements (Tear of God Book 1) Page 12
