Chương 15: 14 Coal Pears

The roar of the ash cloud choked out my cries as the ground shook. My arms trembled as hot stones and sharp debris clipped my back. I pushed into the obsidian tree with everything I had, trying my best to shield Ingred. She cowered between the black glass and me as the avalanche of smoldering dust roared around us. Deeper in the grove, the sound of cracking volcanic glass suggested tree-like formations breaking under the ash slide. Hot dust swirled around my boots as it snaked around our cover.

"Climb!" I barked. We stepped onto drifting cinders, only for our feet to get swallowed again. My lungs seized. I hacked and spat as I inhaled hot dust. I'd seen the eruptions before, on the horizon. They had all seemed so far, like a distant threat, so when the hill we passed started spewing tephra, we dove for cover. Cinder swirled around my ankles again, and I pulled my feet free, nearly leaving my boots behind. A cry of panic escaped Ingred as she pulled her scarf tight over her face.

Two especially sharp points of impact raked across my shoulder—those would probably bleed. The rumbling subsided, and the roar lessened to the hiss of sliding shale. I slipped, nearly burying Ingred under my mass. She caught me.

"Tony!" she cried. I gagged, inhaling deeply and taking in more filthy air. She grabbed my scarf, pulling it up and over my face. We slumped against the obsidian formation, its branches resembling a leafless oak. Cupping her hands over her mouth, Ingred shouted.

"Naomi, Bianca!" Coughing replied, high and hoarse.

"We're good!" Bianca called through the dark haze.

"Stay put!" Ingred said.

"Let the air clear!" I struggled to regain my breath, hacking ash-darkened mucus into my scarf. The dark cloud faded to a grey sheen. I breathed heavily. Ingred uncorked one of her canteens. My sore eyes blinked, conjuring moisture to clear the dust. Ingred handed her canteen over. I took it and drank the hot water. How many gallons had I gone through in the short time we'd been here?

"This place sucks!" she declared. I snorted, my smile inadvertently inviting ash onto my tongue.

"It's no paradise."

"And this is like what—the normal weather?" She cupped her hands together, and vapors coalesced between them.

"Ah," I croaked, holding my hands out.

"Help a guy out?" She grabbed them. Blessed cold stung my skin.

"I thought you didn't take comfort spells," I said.

"That's what you told Felipe." She placed her fingers on the obsidian at our backs, and it steamed where she touched the glass.

"It's not a comfort spell. It's Lesser Ice Strike," she said, resting her back on the chilled obsidian.

"My hands chill before casting—it's the opposite of warming your hands on the barrel of a smoking gun. Not ideal, but workable." I rolled back under our shelter. My shoulder blades drew tight at the sudden cold. I'd never complain in the snow ever again.

"I need to save mana," she said.

"Still."

"What good will it do us if we're roasted by the time we meet our contact?" I reasoned. She nodded, but her eyes stayed on her hands. Something rumbled, distant this time.

"This was a mistake," she said quietly, voice strained.

"We should have sailed directly to our rally point."

"We don't know that," I said, glancing in the direction of the other two. In the haze, I made out their silhouettes as they sipped water and caught their breath. The chill at my back rapidly vanished, sucked away by this island's greedy heat.

"We're here now," I said.

"We made a call, so we stick with it."" She made the call," Ingred said, voice gruff.

"And it's our job to back her," I said, sharper than I meant. Ingred went silent for a moment, just breathing.

"You don't hesitate," she said.

"Not when it counts." That sparked something warm and ugly in my chest—not something I inherited from my mother. I did act. I was strong. Tex, I was carrying Naomi's water. What kind of leader didn't even have the strength to — Apex Pride. Ingred's hand found my wrist, the chill pulling me from the spiral.

"Tony," she said, voice low.

"It's happening, isn't it?" I shook my head, jaw tensing.

"Please, don't build me up. I'll take it too far." She blinked, eyes swollen and irritated. Then she nodded.

"Just like when we were kids. You know your eyes change, right?" My hand came up on its own, shielding them.

"Do they know?" I asked, gaze flickering to the others under their ledge.

"No," she said, squeezing my wrist.

"And they don't need to." I glanced at her, face darkened and filthy. Then I smirked.

"Remember when we were kids, and you froze the headmaster's goblet?" She huffed a laugh.

"You were in the corner for chasing Jace and Tira with a grass snake."

"Was that the same day?" I asked, a chuckle escaping me. For a moment, the burn seemed bearable. I sniffed.

"Who'd have thought? Two kids from the same class, cousins in the best party Paradise has ever seen?" Her smile melted.

"You're right," she said, shoulders squaring.

"This stupid trek was our plan—" she shrugged.

"So let's plow through." I unstopped another canteen.

"That's the Ingred I know." I tipped the flask toward her before drinking deeply. She went quiet, then rested her head back against the formation. Her breath came steady and focused now. I smeared ash-caked sweat across my forearm, noting that ever since my powder horn had detonated, the natural heat of the elements was less aggressive. My terminal was closed, but if I cared enough to open it, I knew what I'd find.

<<Bracer of Fire Resistance: Fire Resist +1>> I rolled my arm, studying the flame stone set into the brass bracer. I wasn't working with a single point of fire resistance. I had two—one from the magic item, one from… somewhere else.

"I think my spells are less potent here," Ingred noted, eyes closed.

"It's like firing a bow underwater." I nodded, rubbing the burned flesh on my outer thigh, where the skin under my torn trousers was charred black. A reminder that fire burned extra hot and that ice apparently lost its bite. I rubbed my sore hands.

"That might be, but those Magmotes didn't like the cold."

"We need to train more."

"We will, when we get back," I promised, shifting as I glimpsed Bianca waving.

"It's time to move again." We pulled ourselves up, muscles aching as we trekked through hot ash.

"Anyone hurt?" Naomi asked, glancing each of us over.

"Only everywhere," I groaned.

"Final stretch," she said.

"The cove is just up ahead." I pulled the straps digging into my shoulders and joined Bianca in the front. We exchanged a glance, then pressed on. Rather than walking over stone, our boots now sank in sediment. Ingred and Naomi followed in our footprints. We usually took a water break every half hour, but we pushed it to forty-five minutes. I initially worried I was driving the other two hard, enjoying my double dose of fire resistance, but, glancing back, Naomi motioned me along. Love what you're reading?

Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The others must have sensed the end of our trip because they pressed hard. I pulled ahead of Bianca, turning to see her stumble and sway. I cursed, striding up to her and stripping my bracer off. The heat struck like a boot to the teeth.

"Here," I said, pushing it over. She shook her head, pushing it back.

"I can take it," she said.

"You can't."

"I'm fine," I said, pushing it into her hands.

"You need a break." She hesitated, nodded, and accepted it. It slipped onto her arm, and she instantly steadied. I grunted, skin crawling with heat.

"Let's go." We continued less than thirty paces before the cove opened down before us. I dropped low, motioning for the others to do the same. Naomi crawled up to us in the front and scanned the black beach.

"There," Bianca said, pointing to an area on the other edge of the bluff. I shifted my focus to what appeared to be a nest of petrified palm leaves stacked on each other. No, covering crates. A figure stood apart from the stockpile, a plum-skinned man with green hair, pacing back and forth.

"Is that our man?" I asked.

"Cind-Primord all right," Naomi said, sweat evaporating from her brow.

"Sweep the cove," I advised.

"Make sure there's no one else lying in wait." She nodded in agreement.

"Once we confirm it's not an ambush, we approach." She threw up a psionic Mind Link, pairing our thoughts into a silent communication channel. I felt the psychic link, like a nugget of pressure in my mind.

"I'll go the long way," I whispered." Take Ingred," Naomi said telepathically.

"I'll go with Bianca. We can communicate in real time mentally if you run into trouble."

"This is weird," Bianca sent.

"Is it all my thought or just what I want to say?"

"Depends," Naomi conveyed.

"Don't focus too hard on anything embarrassing. You might accidentally project." Bianca's eyes went wide, and she hurried after Naomi, who was already ranging ahead. Ingred and I cut a wide arch around the rim of the bluff. My hand ached for my pistol, but it had been destroyed when my powder horn blew. We stopped for water once, and made careful progress. We covered every possible hiding spot thoroughly. I was not going to fail my first quest because of an ambush. I'd prove I could be a good cousin.

I sent psionic reports regularly. We got to the far end of the ridge, and that pressure in my brain vanished. I cast a worried glance at Ingred.

"I feel it too. I think we're out of range," she explained.

"Let's hurry." Completing our path, we doubled back." —Come in." Naomi's voice pressed into my mind like a whisper.

"We're here," I returned.

"All clear." After far too long, we met again on top of the ridge.

"Shall we?" I asked, and Naomi nodded. We slid down the slope, our boots sending pebbles cascading down. The Primord by the crates whirled on us as we approached. The moment my boot hit the sand, I spun, scanning for threats within the bowl.

"Stay on guard," Naomi warned mentally. The Primord man hurried to meet us.

"I'm looking for my Salamander," he said, voice high and raspy.

"Did you try looking in the sky?" Naomi asked, delivering her half of the code. The man's head bobbed eagerly as he wrung his hands.

"You're late."

"We were careful," Naomi said.

"Best hurry," he stammered, glancing over his shoulder.

"Patrols shouldn't come this far, but it does happen sometimes." He led us to the stockpile, casting aside brittle black palm leaves. Matte black lumps protruded from the crates, like chunks of charcoal.

"That's not orange steel," Ingred said, frowning.

"Ah, no," Ignis said, grabbing the top of the crate and heaving. The lumps lifted on a false bottom, which turned out to be a shallow lid. Several bulbous balls fell and splattered on the sand, red juice bleeding from their split skins.

"Uh, eh, a facade you see." I rolled onto my toes, catching a glimpse of steel bars with a warm tinge to it, almost like rust. He set the lid back down.

"As agreed," he said, eyes darting to my cutlass.

"Forty tons of refined orange steel." Naomi stepped forward, and Bianca hefted the lid again. Then they checked three more at random. Naomi ticked off her fingers as she performed some mental calculation. Then she nodded.

"Assuming they're all full, it should all be here."

"Yes, well, er, as you can see, I've done my part." He smiled, far too wide.

"Do you have my, erm, payment?" Naomi studied him for a long moment until he wilted under the much smaller woman's gaze. The small, lacquered wood box materialized into her palm. She held it before her, opening the lid. All twenty sapphires glimmered cold against Scourged Rock's warmth.

"Ah, perfect." He reached for the prize, and Naomi snapped the box shut.

"After we signal our ship," she said.

"Your ship?" he frowned and scanned the sea.

"Where is it? How are you planning on moving this?" Ingred shifted, sending a message to the Silver Zephyr's link stone.

"Don't worry," Naomi said.

"We've got muscle."

"How you do it's none of my business, I suppose. So long as none of this comes back to me." He cast an anxious glance at the steaming waves.

"I've made contact," Ingred said.

"They're on their way." Sweat glittered on Ignis' brow. I grunted.

"You're sure you've done this before? Looking a little nervous there."

"As a matter of fact, this is my first time," Ignis said, wringing his hands.

"This transaction has been years in the making."

"Who's buying the tears?" Naomi asked.

"Water-based magic—sounds like someone who wants to strike against the Ash Lords."

"Yeah," I said, leaning against a crate and folding my arms.

"Terrorists or rebels?"

"Is there a difference?" Ingred asked.

"That's confidential," he said.

"In fact, if I could have the tears now, that'd be great." Naomi scoffed.

"Why, so you can run off and turn us in to the Ash Lords?" The purple of Ignis' face deepened.

"You want me to stay with you while you load? Fine," he said flatly.

"But I've paid; you're calling in reinforcements and holding the prize. How do you think that looks from my perspective?" Naomi hesitated, fingers tightening on the box. Ignis's jaw tightened. She sighed and handed the box over.

"Don't worry, Ignis, we're not robbing you." He flipped the lid open, eyes gleaming as he stroked one of the sapphires.

"How'd you do it?" I asked, plucking up one of the black lumps from the top of a crate. I squeezed it. The strange fruit made me think of a dusty Paradise avocado.

"Do what?" Ignis asked, closing the box and tucking it under his arm.

"You're obviously out of your depth here," I said.

"Don't strike me as the criminal type. So how does someone like you make forty tons of elemental steel vanish from the books?" He cleared his throat, then his spine straightened.

"I am a Trade Registrar; if I don't sign, it doesn't exist."

"You're an administrator, then?" Naomi asked.

"Was," he said.

"After today, I'm taking my family and leaving this place. I've got my eye on a villa on Terra Slab. I'm done with politics."

"Ever think about coming to Paradise?" Naomi asked. He snorted.

"I said I'm done with politics, not I want twice as many."

"Can I eat this?" I asked, holding the fruit up.

"I don't want them back," Ignis said pointedly.

"No," I turned it over in my hand.

"I mean, can I eat it. It's not filled with lava or something, is it?"

"It's a fruit—" he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Black waves, pal," I said.

"I haven't seen a single thing on this tex island that hasn't wanted me dead."

"It shouldn't be harmful to your physiology," he said.

"In fact, they're quite refreshing." I took a bite and instantly spat it out. Skin coated in ash, the juice burned my tongue like pepper oil. I swiped filthy fingers across my tongue, trying to scrape the spice away.

"—Unless of course, you have the palate of a gnomish schoolgirl," Ignis said, smirking.

"My baby handles those better than you." Beside me, Bianca plucked a black lump from the crate and took a bite. I watched in horror as she chewed.

"Spicy?" I asked.

"Not too bad," she said, through a mouthful, but her jaw slowed, each chew taking more labor than the next. The corners of her amber eyes glistened.

"Not too hot, eh?" I asked.

"Then, by all means, take another bite."

"Contact rear," Ingred hissed. Ignis tensed, whirling on the newcomers—amateur. Pebbles slid as several figures dropped into the cove. I turned toward the newcomers, but tried to stay loose. Another Primord marched at the front, with warm green skin and hot blue hair. A badge of station glinted on his black uniform. He carried a lantern, confusingly unnecessary in the hot evening light. A creature perched on his shoulder cocked its head, tossing dark, floppy ears. A Tephrite.

Behind him, two beings stood, nearly eight feet tall. A black crust covered the majority of their orange skin—Vulcans. Brass breastplates and peaked turbans wrapped helms added to their already impressive height. I clocked the scimitars dangling from their belts and the lances held tight in their grips. Each carried a shield in their off-hand. My hand tensed, but I forced myself to remain still.

"Don't be rash," Ignis hissed back at us, tucking the box of tears into his vest.

"I—I have papers."

"Well now," the new Primord said, grinning.

"What have we here? Surely nothing underhanded." I shook my head.

"Surely not. And you are?" His eyes slid to me, his lantern swinging lightly in his hand.

"I'm Customs Warden Azhak," he said.

"We found tracks in the ash, followed them here." His eyes glinted with intent.

"This is a known smuggler's cove."

"Is there a problem, Customs Warden?" Naomi asked, folding her arms.

"Well, that depends," he said, scanning the crates.

"Strange place for a pickup. Any reason one of the sanctioned trade ports didn't suit you?" The Tephrite hopped from his shoulder and scuttled to the crate. The creature plucked a fruit from the top and helped itself.

"Of course, Warden," Ignis said, fumbling papers from his vest, inadvertently giving a clear glimpse of the wooden case tucked away.

"I'm Trade Registrar Flareburn," he said, handing the papers over.

"Registrar?" Azhak said, accepting the documents.

"I'm sure you see how this is highly irregular." Ignis' throat worked soundlessly.

"Erm, right. See, there was a problem with the pier. Also, with the ship—""Ship?" the customs warden asked, scanning the coastline.

"Where is it?"

"See, er, that's the problem," Ignis said, mopping sweat from his brow.

"It was supposed to come—" Azhak waved him off and studied the papers. I smiled at the nearest Vulcan, whose lip curled, exposing a mouth of fangs.

"Anyone ever tell you that you have a friendly smile?" Something impacted the back of my head, and I flinched as a fruit pit dropped to the sand at my feet. The Tephrite snickered as it plucked up another coal pear, then it started to burrow. I tensed; before too long, it'd strike the false bottom. One of the Vulcans crossed to the crates and began prodding the fruit.

"That's a lot of coal pears," Azhak said, lowering the page and twisting toward Naomi.

"All of them headed to Prime Rock?"

"That's right," she said, shifting her weight to one leg.

"How interesting," he said.

"This shipping warrant says it's due for Drake." The Silver Zephyr chose that moment to glide into the cove, her hull masked, but obvious Paradise make. Warden Azhak's eyes widened with recognition. Something shifted behind me, and I turned to find our curious Vulcan pushing the lid aside, exposing the gleam of orange steel.

"Contraband!" he hollered, ripping his scimitar from its sheath. Aw, tex. I drew my cutlass. Looked like we were doing things my way. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 04: 02: 03: 07: 49: 57>>