Elements (Tear of God Book 1)

by Henri, Raymond

  Puppets began to show themselves to the Elementalists from the shadows, approaching en masse from all directions. At least Mink assumed they were all puppets, since Reeks rarely accosted strangers in person. Reeks were alive, with clean eyes and pink mouths but, just like their puppets, they wore masks and gloves made from the flesh of their kill. There were easily a hundred cloaks, moving slowly, hoods drawn, the edges of their thick black coats gliding along the ground. The stench grew more intense as they drew near. Puppets were far from harmless, but Mink knew it would be a waste of energy to Attack them.

  The group went silent, except for two campers huddled next to the fortress. They shoved another camper around, shouting, “Now Rénys. Do it! Come on, Rénys.” Whoever Rénys was and whatever effect they were after, he wasn’t obliging. Jannri and Tolrin shouted for everyone to hold their effects, but all the horrified faces worried Mink. No one felt like holding back now.

  MINK WATCHED the cloaks creep down the slopes of the valley walls toward them through the tops of the submerged trees. Were they moving so slowly because the Reeks controlling them were wielding too many? Or were they strategizing to bait the Team into attacking? The Elementalists backed tightly together and Mink stood fast against Gyov’s Clay Pot, but there was nowhere to go. The puppets would be on them in less than a minute.

  Hoping Silent Signal Fire was still connecting him to Tolrin, Mink pleaded, “We can see how many puppets are here, but we need to figure out the number of Reeks behind them. They’ll back off if we know there aren’t enough of them to attack.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Tolrin boomed back at Mink. “They’re all moving the same way to prevent us from counting repeats.”

  If only Mink could think of a way to group the puppets, they might have a better understanding of who they faced. Since Reeks were only human after all, it made sense to Mink that they wouldn’t be able to hide their thought patterns. They all looked the same on the outside, but each puppet shared the consciousness of the particular Reek controlling it.

  Mink figured it’d be worth a try. “Have the Spirit users Eavesdrop on as many as possible to see how many unique thought patterns there are. Tell Soil users to use the Tracking effect to trace the puppets’ paths to the point of origin.”

  “That would be hard for me to do under these conditions, let alone these youth. But, I follow what you’re saying. Now, I need you to let us work.”

  The overwhelming smell of decay made it difficult for Mink to sort out just what felt wrong. There was something about the way the Elementalists were backed up against each other… He was positive that they were still too far south of Harvest for their group to have been surrounded. Since they had come down the visible side of the mountain that morning, these rotheads must have already been here. Did Reeks make a habit of wandering through the wilderness?

  “Something’s not right.” Mink hoped thinking it out with Tolrin might dislodge his mental block.

  “Oh really, Mink? You think there’s something wrong here?” Sarcasm wasn’t Tolrin’s strong suit. “Please don’t bother me. I’m trying to get a Reek count.”

  The cloaks were close enough now that Mink could see their faces in the shade of their hoods. They formed a wall of stench and menace three-deep. The Penbik twins went shoulder-to-shoulder, protecting Sapo and Alré. Mink knew he should have something ready, but he was weaponless and couldn’t perform effects. Reeks went out of their way to disguise themselves so that no one could differentiate them from each other, or identify their gender. But, they could never disguise the dead gray of their reanimated corpses’ eyes. Mink checked the faces of the figures now surrounding him and confirmed that all he could see were puppets.

  Mink could hear Tolrin yelling to the Spirit and Soil users from a distance. “I need my count! Where’s my count?”

  The puppets took their time now, turning three rows into five as they closed in and ran out of elbow room. Their unfocused eyes and slow, random movement almost gave Mink the sense that the Elementalists were invisible to them, and yet they were specifically surrounding the Team. Suddenly, it dawned on him what had been bothering him.

  “We need to separate!” Mink practically screamed into Tolrin’s mind.

  “Not now, Mink.”

  “Listen, please! Tell everyone to mingle with the puppets. Put at least one between them and the closest Team member. It will buy us some time and give us the advantage.”

  “Sorry, Mink. Dispelling Silent Signal Fire now.”

  “Tolrin Makunam! Sneak!” Mink shouted in his mind, but got no reply.

  They were all sitting targets. The only way to level the field was to integrate with the cloaks. This would confuse the Reeks’ vision, possibly even drawing the real ones out of hiding as they tried to regain a visual.

  “I’m waiting on my count!” Tolrin reminded everyone aloud.

  Tréa’s voice could be heard from across the Team. “Working on it. I’m between sixteen and forty.”

  Another voice called out, “I’m thinking thirty-two.”

  “Is that confirmed?” Tolrin pressed.

  “No. Give or take five.”

  A succession of loud cracks and flashes made Mink flinch, and his heart sank as bolts of Lighting streaked randomly into the gathering puppets. Effects reflexively went off all over the place, risking chaos. Alré rushed the group closest to her, punching balls of flame, causing minature explosions of Fire whenever they struck upon contact, and sending three figures up in flames. The Penbik twins stabbed and cut with the sharp and pointy edges of their armor.

  Waste of energy! Puppets were already dead, only their movements could be disabled. Sapo spat out a sharp stream of Water straight ahead, bisecting every rotten head and torso in her range. Effects happened so fast that by the time orders came to stop Attacking, the first row of puppets had been successfully maimed.

  Still, the horde held its ground. Those that could walk continued their leisurely pace towards the Team. Others pulled themselves along with their arms. Mink counted twelve puppets that had been completely immobilized. He didn’t bother counting how many of them were damaged in the Attacks, but he could tell there were plenty as yet untouched. Not one had so much as lifted a finger in defense.

  Mink couldn’t keep quiet any longer. After that kind of reception, the chances of avoiding an onslaught from the Reeks were slim. He had to act. He rushed into the ranks of puppets yelling, “Everyone mix in! Now! Put at least one between you and the other campers!” Those close enough to hear him regarded him skeptically. “Just do it! Before they attack. You have to split up and get in their groups!” Mink brushed his way into the thick of the mob, who didn’t turn a lifeless eye his way.

  The cloaks had crept near enough now that there wasn’t much choice for the outer Cells. Tralé was the first to comply with Mink’s orders. That was enough for Sapo and Mouké to follow. Alré didn’t move, and Gyov’s Clay Pot wasn’t going anywhere but she was safe enough inside.

  Some of the Scout Cell repositioned themselves in the throng, but Obyr rebelled by kicking a puppet with his Demolition Attack effect. The top half and its cloak sailed high over the trees, falling somewhere back in the forest while the lower half dropped to its knees. Obyr scowled defiantly at Mink.

  “Mink!” Tolrin reconnected Silent Signal Fire. “You are not in the rotting chain of command! Don’t you dare make orders!”

  “Sergeant,” Mink responded mentally. “If you want to buy some time for a Reek count, tell everyone to get in with the puppets. We’ll confuse their vision so much they won’t be able to coordinate an attack. Trust me.”

  “You have not yet given me reason to do so.”

  “They aren’t attacking! Either the Reeks are trying to position themselves, or they don’t intend to.”

  Mink’s response was honored by way of Tolrin ordering every Team member to take up positions in with the horde. Jannri joined in, and soon all who were not in the fortress had complied. T
he plan seemed to work in a matter of seconds. The puppets stopped moving and turned their hooded heads every which way. Mink grinned, relieved. Everyone must realize by now that he had made the right assessment.

  A cloak in Mink’s vicinity staggered beside him and, sending a shiver of terror up his spine, put an unwelcome arm around him. Its flesh-gloved hand clutched tightly upon his shoulder. The reek of rotting flesh became so powerful, Mink felt bile shoot up his throat and he almost lost his breakfast. Leaning in close, the puppet smiled at Mink. The mask made of dead flesh curved unnaturally around the places where it had been sutured to the face. The eyes and inside of the mouth were a dead giveaway, discolored gray and dull with black splotches of decay. Definitely not a Reek.

  “Yous fascinates us, boy,” the gravelled voice hissed in broken Octernalian. “Yous performs no effects, mixes your peoples in with ours, and seems satisfies with yourself. Are yous insane?” Its grip around Mink was surprisingly strong, and despite the friendly gesture, felt hostile.

  “I can’t do any effects,” Mink groaned through held breath. The head rocked back and its gray eyes widened. “I don’t have an Element.”

  At this proclamation, a scattered group of eight cloaks burst into crackly laughter. All of them sounded exactly the same, like someone squeezing fistfulls of dry leaves. They must all be controlled by the same Reek. Try as it might, a Reek couldn’t disguise its laughter, sending it out through each of its puppets.

  Mink had to test out his theory. “Tralé! What’s my nickname back home?”

  Tralé looked over at Mink as if he didn’t exactly appreciate having attention drawn to him during this horribly precarious crisis. “B-blankey,” he stammered.

  More puppets laughed. There were four distinct styles and yet many around him were still silent. Mink specifically identified the various sounds of hollow, crackly, staccato, and drawn-out whine. He needed to include more so he could track all of the Reeks.

  Mink looked over to Theen on the far side of the group. Theen couldn’t stand still, appearing to make himself dizzy as he whipped around fearfully. “Hey, Theen! What do you call an Elementalist with no Element?”

  “This is no time for jokes,” Theen said in his trademark lisp, setting off a new wave of chuckles, including more puppets. Now, he had all of their attention.

  Mink had to capitalize on this opportunity. “A dead weight,” Mink answered his own self-deprecating riddle loud enough for everyone to hear him. The Elementalists were visibly upset by his apparent lack of seriousness, but he had played into the Reeks’ dark sense of humor perfectly. The laughter rolled for many long seconds. The cloak embracing Mink clapped him on the shoulder while cackling, its flesh glove making a horrible flapping sound. It was difficult to distinguish the separate laughs at first, but as they died out, the sounds became clearer. Mink managed to double check his count.

  “Fifteen Reeks!” Mink yelled in the direction of Tolrin and Jannri. “There are fifteen of them.” Puppets and Elementalists gazed in unison at Mink while Tréa confirmed his count.

  Grinning, Mink felt like he had just proved himself in the presence of geniuses. The puppet squeezed him a little tighter and tilted its head closer to Mink’s face, which caused him to pull away, revolted.

  “Prouds of yourselfs, boy? I would loves to extinguishes yours exuberance.”

  Knowing that Reeks respected resistance to taunting, Mink put his own arm around the puppet and patted its rigored shoulder. “Not today, friend,” Mink replied.

  So few Reeks against this many Elementalists would be a suicide mission. As much as the Reeks celebrated death, they never needlessly pursued their own end. Their careful approach to the Team must have been to disguise the fact that the Reeks in control wielded too many at once, and therefore weren’t capable of much dexterity. That made their ambivalence to having puppets destroyed more understandable. Had the Elementalists taken out enough of them, the Reeks might have stood a better chance of coordinating an attack, using their remaining forces more deftly.

  Now that the conflict had eased up, Tolrin spoke inside Mink’s mind, “I got a puppet talking to me. Asking what we’re doing here, and how we plan on paying for their losses.”

  Mink remained silent, not sure how to respond. The cloak clung to him, completely inanimate, although Mink knew it could see and hear him. Gyov maintained Clay Pot, but the rest of the Team had calmed down quite a bit.

  Tolrin continued after a pause, “Jannri is talking to them now. What you did was really foolish. I’m glad the big gamble paid off, but I was pretty close to killing you myself.” Mink flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. Tolrin went on, “That said, impressive strategy. I don’t think I could have ever come up with that. You may have saved us all.”

  “Thanks, Sneak.” Somewhat relieved, Mink’s thoughts now turned toward his parents. He may not have discovered his affinity yet, but he wanted to tell them how, probably for the first time, he actually felt in his Element.

  THE REEKS’ negotiation process essentially amounted to looting the Elementalists’ belongings. Cloaks stood lifeless as the Reeks controlling them shifted focus from one to another, exploring through dead eyes what the Team had on hand. The Reeks never did show themselves, preferring to handle everything through their puppets. Much to everyone’s dismay, they insisted on escorting the Elementalist “campers” safely to their destination, seeming to accept the group’s cover story. Even though the Reeks agreed to maintain a distance, it was clear that the Team wouldn’t be rid of them any time soon.

  Gyov finally Dispelled her Clay Pot. The Penbik twins hurried into the dust cloud it produced before completely dissapating, taking what energy they could from the Soil. Everyone was exhausted, especially Gyov. Mink worried that she had spent too much time on Tralé’s scooter earlier, leaving barely enough energy for her Clay Pot effect. The guilt of his selfishness at the expense of her safety sank his heart, darkening his joy of having her travel beside him.

  If Obyr still had his Demolition effect active, he could fully restore Gyov with one punch, considering how well Body augmented Soil. But he didn’t seem the kind of guy to do favors, despite his tending to Alré’s Materialized skin. Mink would have asked Pulti to replenish Gyov’s energy, but she still wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He wanted to hold Gyov and apologize, but the couple of rotheads between them had their eyes locked on Mink and were leaving her alone. He figured it best to keep it that way until the negotiations were concluded.

  In stark contrast to their slow en masse approach, the puppets rushed back up into the northern forest individually once each of their bartering requests had been honored. The Elementalists scarcely moved, and only spoke briefly when necessary. Just because the Reeks hadn’t fought back, didn’t mean they felt any better having them around. As far as Mink was concerned, everyone should be extremely glad affairs hadn’t gotten any worse. From his studies, he could count on one hand the number of Reek encounters survived in the past hundred years.

  By the time the last of the dark visitors headed up the slope of the valley with their pilfered provisions, the Team had Dispelled their Elemental Armor and Attack effects. The Penbik twins returned their Impenetrable Bark armor to scooters. Clearly fatigued, Gyov hung close to Mink with her head down and hadn’t made eye contact with him since she Dispelled her Clay Pot. Mink wanted to engage her in some way, misconstruing her exhaustion for resentment toward him. But nothing he could come up with sounded right in his head. A simple apology didn’t seem like enough.

  “You,” Gyov began, halting to maintain her composure, “were great. All I could do was hide. I was so afraid.”

  “Trust me, I would have rather been able to hide.” Mink gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m glad you were safe.”

  Gyov looked away from Mink and watched her Scout Cell gathering around Corporal Ankrim. “I should get back. Let me clean up and regain some strength. We can talk later.” She shuffled away.

  “Yeah. It was
nice to be able to ride with you for a while, I’m sorry it took so much out of you,” Mink called out to her back before rejoining his Guide Cell.

  As the sun rose high over the hills, an uncomfortable heat settled heavily over the group. It certainly didn’t make the residual stench any more bearable. The trees of the surrounding area were no help, still submerged in the ground up to their tops. No one looked up as Mink came within reach of Tralé.

  “I have never been more embarrassed by anyone in my command,” Alré brow beat Mink upon his arrival in the angriest version of her raspy voice. “There will not be a next time. I will take you out myself. Do you understand me?”

  The twins and Sapo sent looks of disbelief and insubordination to Alré, but all of her attention was aimed at Mink. “I understand, Coporal Alré, ma’am. There will not be a next time.”

  “This is exactly why we shouldn’t have brought kids out here.” Alré wouldn’t let it go. “You have no idea that what you do affects the rest of us. Kids only think about themselves. It costs lives.” Mink couldn’t help but take another look at Alré’s Materialized skin on her right side, which only made her angrier. “Eat your lunch quickly, silently, and then be ready to move out. All of you.” Alré spun on her heel and marched alone along the trail toward the bend ahead, fists clenched.

  Tralé led Mink by the shoulder over to his scooter. “Come on, Mink. Let’s—”

  “I said ‘silently’!” Alré roared without looking back.

  Having a quick lunch was not a problem. With the lingering stink and emotional hangover, no one could find much of an appetite. Corporal Ankrim fully restored Sapo with Spear, so she could pay it forward to the twins using the Area of Effect chant, Washout,