Elements (Tear of God Book 1)

by Henri, Raymond

  “I found you in a chain.

  They said you were insane.

  Danger was your name.

  Your soul I felt I could tame.

  All you needed was a day

  Without a game to play.

  You showered me in pain.

  As the falling rain.”

  As he sang, Mink watched Dreh and Pulti dance. The chemistry seemed off, but he hoped it was improving. He turned his attention to the crowd which, thankfully, was helping him sing the song.

  “As the falling rain.

  As the falling rain.

  You played your part and filled my heart

  Until I spilled with love unfulfilled.

  As the falling rain.”

  Then, down in front, to the left of the stage, Mink saw her. Gyov watched him and swayed to the song. She wasn’t dancing with anyone and that made Mink glad. Her long brown hair swung around her head and shoulders. She wore a billowy dress, cut to her figure, and just a shoulder jacket on top. Mink kept singing, but now he sang only to her. Her deep brown eyes stayed on him. She smiled.

  “There was something in your tone.

  You said you shouldn’t be alone.

  You led me to your home.

  Sat me inside a dome.

  I could tell it wasn’t wise,

  But I was trapped inside your eyes.

  When your nature I was shown,

  You cut me to the bone…”

  MINK AWOKE with a pounding headache and no idea what time it was. He recognized his room, but wasn’t sure if he had laid down in his bed, or was put there. Dreh probably brought him home, but the fact that he couldn’t remember made him worry about what else had happened. Pulling memories off the nails in his head proved impossible.

  His room, conversely to Dreh’s, showed no discernable trace of attention to cleanliness. He considered it to be a certain arrangement of organized chaos. Everything Mink owned, he could see and identify. Even in his impaired state, he quickly selected and put on a clean undershirt, pair of undershorts, socks, pocket pants, and a long-sleeved jacket.

  Having dressed, he felt more awake, but still unwell. This level of dehydration required either a Water user or a trip to the kitchen. Scooting out of his room, Mink spied his runhammer propped on the wall by the door. His serenade of the previous evening came back to him in a rush of embarrassment, and his head pulsed with pain. What on Georra had persuaded him to be so bold?

  “Mom? Dad?” Mink called out into the ether, still disoriented as he exited his room.

  Only after making his way downstairs did he recall that his parents were still out at Rift Ridge. His heart sank, burdened by not having any way to know how they were doing. He wanted to tell them that he had made it, that plans for their rescue were already underway, and how all the Advocates had been impressed by his delivery of the news. He also wanted his mom to make this hangover go away. His dad would just tell him to drink kwona. Mink had never made it himself and decided against that idea, since it involved grinding roasted seeds to a proper grain, and measuring specific ratios of grounds to infuse with boiling Water.

  The kitchen had an eerie calm and cleanliness to it. Mink sipped Water and spent the better part of an hour rummaging repeatedly through the cabinets. Nothing appealed, but he couldn’t risk overlooking the perfect remedy. He eyed the fruit on the counter as he drained his glass. It looked really good, but he figured the acids would aggravate his already compromised stomach.

  It was time to descend to the basement and check out cold storage. Nyam had converted most of the basement into a well-organized warehouse storing family heirlooms, decorations for their eight seasonal holidays, linens, household tools, and dry goods. There was a large gap in the order of things where their camping equipment should be. The cold storage room sat all the way back in the far corner, as far as possible from the kitchen, which Mink never could quite understand.

  The glow crystals in the ceiling hurt his eyes, so he concentrated on the stone floor in front of him. He thought back again to being on stage at the party, performing for a couple hundred people just to get Dreh and Pulti to dance together. With a start, he remembered seeing Gyov in the audience. The thought of it crumpled Mink to the floor. He liked having the cool stone pressed against his forehead. If only it could erase the past, or at least his memory of it.

  “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Mink wanted to stay in the basement for the rest of his life. Perhaps his father could be reassigned to a different prefecture. He could change schools. Dreh and Pulti would have to come with him. They were his only protection in this cruel world.

  Picking himself up off the floor, Mink continued to the far corner. Until he cleared his head, he wouldn’t be able to come up with a decent strategy for damage control. He unlatched the thick Wood door to cold storage and it swung open stiffly. The blast of cold Air gave Mink instant relief. How long could he manage to live in here? The first things he saw were neatly arranged rows of nutty bottles, which he immediately swore off until next time.

  He took a quick inventory of the rest of the provisions, realizing as his toes chilled that he wasn’t wearing shoes. Meat and drinks abounded in the small, frigid room, with only one little section reserved for sweets and jars of Nyam’s culinary experiments. Mink pulled out a few thick slices of smoke-cured bushtusk and exited with a dance-like shuffle to keep his feet from freezing.

  Back in the kitchen, he set the slabs on the stove’s hot rocks to warm while he selected some dipping sauces from a cupboard. So what if he had made a fool out of himself on stage? Everyone else was likely having too much fun to care, and he had received such applause for being the big winner of Dreh’s spike game. Transferring the meat onto a plate, Mink even laughed about how bold he had been at the first party he’d actually attended in years.

  Sitting at the table, it further occurred to him that later today Dreh would make him an Imbued paddle with a cutting edge and Air grooves to enhance the fanning. He sipped more Water and ate with improved mood, even letting himself believe that Gyov was among those who had clapped for him. She did smile and wave from the stage audience, too. His performance couldn’t have been that bad.

  Mink’s mind turned to his parents’ welfare. He had just met with the High Council the previous day, so help should arrive to them within a day or two. It would take his mom less time than that to pull their cart home, with his dad in tow. So, best case scenario, Mink had three days to himself. Technically, he had been excused from school through the rest of the week. However, he could go tomorrow morning to start making up his hours.

  Just as he was deliberating over where he should spend the day with Dreh and Pulti, someone knocked on the door. He opened it, half-expecting them to have made his decision for him. Instead, he stared right at the face and trademark shaved head of his childhood thornball hero, Tolrin Makunam!

  Tolrin had been captain of the Floth Riptides for a twelve year stretch. He led them to a total of eight national championships, including a five-in-a-row run. Employing an arsenal of reactionary defensive strategies, Tolrin still held the league record for the fewest goals allowed in a season. What surprised Mink the most was that despite his massive frame, Tolrin stood three inches shorter than himself.

  “Mink Jolle?” Tolrin inquired. The excitement of being asked for by name left Mink mute. “Are you Mink, or not?”

  “That’s yes. Yes, sir. I’m me. Mink. I am Mink.” Oh, man.

  “Wonderful. You have been selected by the High Council to guide my unit to the location of the Tear of God.” Tolrin spoke in matter-of-fact rote.

  It took Mink a while to remember the reports he had heard of Tolrin enlisting in the army after retiring from thornball. The circumstances of this visit turned out to be neither as random nor pleasant as Mink might have hoped. And yet, Tolrin Makunam was at his house!

  “What do you need me to do? Tell you where on the Great Plateau it is? Rift Ridge?” Mink’s questions jumbled out. “I’m not sure if
I can draw a map very well.”

  “No. You are assigned to the Guide Cell under my command. You will report directly to Corporal Alré and walk the Team back to the site the way you came.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. I’m not exactly army material.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. But, I have my orders. And now, so do you. Welcome to the service.”

  “What? Someone enlisted me? Is there an appeal or something?” Mink’s voice squeaked.

  “The High Council of the Main Cameral, in their infinite wisdom, decided that the most efficient way for my Support Unit to guide the Tear of God Extraction Unit to the site is to have you lead us there. Your Uncle Durren signed the order himself. So, you are reporting to Corporal Alré in one hour, or I will have to use Mental Change and Inspiration on you. Knowing who your father is, I trust you understand how that will work.”

  Mink gathered from Tolrin’s tone that he wasn’t exactly pleased with the arrangement either. Tolrin, being a Spirit user like Juré, could’ve chosen to chant either effect before Mink had even opened the door, speaking Mink’s name as the implementation upon first sight. That would have prevented the whole argument. Maybe he wanted to give Mink the chance to decide for himself. Regardless, at least now he could see his parents sooner than expected.

  WOULD YOU like to come in while I gather my things?” Mink offered.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Tolrin stepped inside just far enough for Mink to close the door. He looked around impassively.

  Mink wondered what Tolrin’s house must be like. The government paid Intelligence Operatives like Juré very well so they wouldn’t be tempted by bribes. Nyam’s taxi business had expanded to include cross-country routes with a network of stations. Having only one child, their money went a long way.

  “My dad and I used to watch all your—”

  “Less chat. More pack.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Mink mumbled from the top of the stairs and then rushed into his room.

  He grabbed a weekend pack from the corner and started shoving clothes into it from the clean pile. He rubbed his thumb over a cluster of milky yellow six-sided crystals about the size and shape of his own fingers. Mink found which ones he wanted to help keep himself entertained, and placed them in the bag. The runhammer begged to come along this time, but Mink refrained. He gathered a notepad and a pencil in hopes of getting an autograph, as well as his wallet, toiletries, and a book that would allow him the comfort of being antisocial among an army full of strangers without seeming so. His pack was nearly full.

  Mink couldn’t wait to tell Dreh and Pulti that Tolrin Makunam had come to his house… Dreh! He was supposed to get a new paddle today. Mink closed up his pack, slung it over his shoulder, and ran out of the room. As he hurried down the stairs, he noticed that Tolrin hadn’t budged an inch. Thornball players weren’t allowed to move their feet at all when they were holding the ball. For a second, Mink imagined Tolrin hid one in his hands behind his back, about to toss him a pass.

  “I just remembered my friend Dreh is making a paddle for me. I really should have it for the trip. Can we go pick it up?”

  “No. Our Team should have moved out hours ago, but we’ve been detained rounding up a bunch of highly-skilled youth. We are late.”

  Rounding up a bunch of youth? Mink wondered if they were all going out to Rift Ridge, but why? The army had thousands of master-level users. Mink didn’t figure Tolrin would be exactly forthcoming with the information. “Okay, but you’ll want my friend, too. Dreh Hoy. He’s a very good Wood user and—”

  “I know about Dreh Hoy. We have all the Wood users we need. Are you ready? Or should I start making myself a meal?”

  “Good to go.” Mink adjusted the pack’s strap higher on his shoulder and opened the door for Tolrin. Now at least he knew they were hand-selecting people and had specific numbers in mind for each Elemental type. He almost asked about Pulti, but as he stepped outside, the daylight split through his eyes like a tapping rod. Blinking away the lingering pain of his hangover, he reflexively turned to go back inside, only to be stopped by the firm grasp of Tolrin’s hand on his arm.

  Mink could barely keep track of where he was going. His head ached again and queasiness gripped his throat. Judging from the length of the shadows, the time of day was either three or seven of the second clock. Mink followed Tolrin down the stone walkway to a group of seven people waiting by the street, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact.

  “Sergeant Makunam,” a female voice spoke to Mink’s right. “Strike Cell reports two more to go. All other Support Unit Cells reporting complete.”

  “Does the Strike Cell have an ETA, Tréa?”

  Tréa fell into a silence with which Mink was familiar. She must be communicating through Silent Signal Fire to get details from the Strike Cell. “Corporal Counkrat reports that they are following a lead on the whereabouts of both campers and should have them within the hour.”

  “Good enough. Tell all Corporals to rendezvous at the first checkpoint in three hours. Blin, I want you to inform Lieutenant Jannri that the Support Unit will await the Extraction Unit at the first checkpoint within three hours. Can you remember that?”

  Blin?! Mink could hardly bring himself to raise his eyes from the ground, catching just a glimpse of the two-toned left hand. He certainly recognized the voice. “Yes, sir! Three hours. Checkpoint one. Sir!” With that, the cracking sound of Blin’s Flash Feet faded into the distance.

  “Let’s see how he manages to screw this one up,” Tolrin grumbled once Blin was long gone. “Nylki, be ready to run damage control. Now, let’s go deliver Mink to Corporal Alré.”

  Tréa’s reference to the youth being gathered as campers remained a mystery. Mink was just as puzzled that Blin served as some sort of messenger, and had been doing so long enough for Tolrin to have formed an opinion on his reliability. He wanted answers, but for now he’d have to keep his mouth shut and get his head back in order.

  The delivery of Mink to Corporal Alré entailed traveling with Tolrin’s Cell via a Body user’s taxi cart all the way to checkpoint one. Four of the six people in Tolrin’s Relay Cell were Soil or Spirit users, neither of which had effects to help them move quickly. The other two were Lightning users, Blin and Nylki. Flash Feet was faster than Quick Legs, but only when traveling solo.

  The first checkpoint was located in Byndiwash, a town in the northwest corner of Floth, bordering the Gynsgade and Eternsa Prefectures. Byndiwash relied on its location for commerce, being little more than a convenient travel stop. It didn’t offer much in the way of local flare, and overpromoted what it did have: the world’s largest Water wheel, which Mink had never found particularly impressive. A larger one could easily be built, but with the scarcity of natural Water in Octernal, what would be the point? Water users Materialized all the Water the country needed.

  Nonetheless, Byndiwash was an inconspicous spot for a large group to gather. By the time Tolrin’s Cell reached the sprawling community park which dwarfed the famous Water wheel, Mink couldn’t tell how many of the masses were part of their Team. Hundreds of Octernalian travelers huddled in scattered groups and chatted about their next stop.

  The two hours it took to get to Byndiwash felt like days, with conversation limited to Tolrin relaying orders, and Tréa reporting after pregnant pauses in Silent Signal Fire communications. So far, the time Mink had spent with his hero only lessened the awe he once felt. For all of his intensity on the octagonal field, Tolrin now seemed dull and distant. With any luck, Corporal Alré’s Cell would be more entertaining.

  Tolrin led the group to a pavilion shaded by several very large and very old broad-leafed trees. Under the pavilion’s vaulted roof, ten long tables could sit sixteen people each, arranged in two lines of five. A banner reading “Welcome to the Wilderness Youth Camp Experience” hung boldly above the entrance. Several small groups Mink’s age or older hung around the tables.

  Indicating for Mink to wai
t where he was, Tolrin marched right up to a trim, hardened woman whose short hair showed just enough gray to grant her an air of authority. She seemed very tall, even as she stood some distance away from Tolrin. Mink noticed from afar that the right side of her head and arm had been Materialized. Seeing a soldier with wounds during peacetime unsettled Mink. He hoped the injuries weren’t battle related. After a few words, Tolrin waved Mink over to them.

  MINK JOLLE, this is Corporal Banni Alré. She heads up my Guide Cell. You will assist her in directing our path and otherwise do as she says, is that clear?” Tolrin actually seemed excited for the first time that day.

  “Yes, sir,” Mink replied carefully.

  “Fantastic. In about an hour, we’ll be setting out. Get to know your Cell before then. You move with them at all times. Once we exit through the western border into the wilderness, we will brief the whole Team together. You’ll be called upon to speak on a few specific points. Location of the Tear of God, its approximate size, and the nature of the surrounding area. Do not add any information and do not answer anyone’s questions but mine. Understood?”

  “I understand,” Mink said, weary of being told to share his story at the same time as keep quiet about the details.

  Tolrin gave him a slap on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine.” He saluted Alré as he turned back toward his Cell. “All yours, Corporal.”

  Alré gave Mink a dubious smile and extended her hand. “So. You’re the boy with no Element.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mink replied, dryly.

  “And you’ve been assigned to me. Great.” Her voice relayed sarcasm in the deep, scratchy quality of a long-time Fire user. Mink tried to get a read from her flat brown eyes, but they were expressionless and cold. “Come sit and meet the rest of the campers in our Cell.”

  Alré led Mink to a table seating three people a little older than himself. He recognized the Penbik twins immediately. Both were genius Wood users who remained legends at Mink’s school in spite of having graduated six years ago. They skipped two grades, and their Materialization exam produced an office building that still stood out as one of the more beautiful structures in Riverpark. They went so far out of their way to distinguish themselves from one another that most people would scarcely realize they were identical, let alone related. Tralé wore his auburn hair back in a ponytail. Mouké kept his short hair unkempt and bleached, darkening his chestnut tan by comparison.