Wind-Scarred (The Will of the Elements, Book 1) by Sky Corbelli
Chapter 55
Imagine Meeting You Here
Ezra stared at the obviously unstable man before him. He turned back to the rest of the group. “Castle in the sky? What does that...” Ezra trailed off, his brain putting together the pieces. Doors in the air... wormholes? Lifeless beasts of burden, that must be skiffs. He supposed that modern weaponry would seem to be their means of imitating the power of elementalists. And so the castle in the sky... “The space station,” he whispered in horror. “They're going to crash the space station into Sanctuary.” He glanced at Mat and Sarah, their eyes widened with understanding. “Can they do that?”
Mat bit his lip, then wiggled his hand uncertainly. “Thunder-struck have worked together to do big things before. Their largest churches are all made almost entirely from metal that they've magnetized to hold. It's impressive stuff. But... they'd need some way to reach up that far... air is an insulator, so it would be working against them the whole way...”
Sarah shrugged. “They'd probably have to use the space elevator, but the carbon pico-tubes it's made of don't conduct electricity. Doubtful.”
Ezra got a sinking feeling in his stomach, remembering... “It's happened before, though,” he said quietly. “It was an electrical discharge from the space elevator that destroyed the Millennial Legacy. I saw it happen.”
“What?” Sarah's eyes snapped to him. “You mean you actually saw a current ride the elevator?” Ezra nodded mutely. “And you never told anyone? No, no I doubt they would have believed you in any case...” Sarah's eyes squeezed shut. “That's... that could be bad.”
“Maybe you'd like to explain it to the rest of us?” Sebastian prompted.
“It's...” Sarah ran a hand over her hair, collecting her thoughts. “Okay, look, about a hundred and twenty years ago, my great grandmother theorized that, after sufficiently long exposure – say a few hundred years – to a sufficiently cold environment – such as space – the chemical make-up of our super solids would undergo a subtle shift, allowing for, among other things, conductivity. She wanted us to tear down the space elevator and replace it. But the Chancellor killed the project, saying it was a blatant power grab in the face of emerging wormhole technology. So... yes, it's possible, if they start high enough in the atmosphere.”
“The space station's made almost entirely of ionizable solids too,” Mat said, stroking his stubble in thought. “It had to be, to get all the pieces up there and in place efficiently. Get enough thunder-struck behind that... yeah, if they can reach it, they could pull it down. Wouldn't even be especially hard, at the point.”
“Uh... this sounds kinda big, you guys,” Gal said. “We should probably let someone know about this... like, as soon as we can.”
Ezra nodded emphatically. “We better find out what else he knows,” he jerked his head back toward the struck, who had begun laughing to himself again. “Any information is better than what we have.” He turned and stalked back to the Son of Lightning, setting his jaw. “Now listen you.” Ezra reached out to grab the man's shirt, intending to pull him up painfully against the cables. A spark of static jumped out and bit his finger. “Ow!” He stuck his finger in his mouth, scowling, then looked closely at the softly glowing man. His hair was dry. So were his clothes. In fact, he was only sitting in about a half centimeter of water, and the little liquid that remained was rapidly retreating along two small streams toward the back of the cavern.
“Water-seer!” Ezra yelled, stumbling back from their captive. The water left in the pool surged forward, wrapping around his foot and freezing solid. He stared at it in disbelief.
A blue-gray blur darted from the shadowed recesses at the back of the cave, a shimmering tail of liquid streaming out lazily in the water-seer's wake. Sarah yelped and took cover just inside the main tunnel leading into the lair, dropping to a knee and lining up a shot. The thunder-struck turned and glared at Mat, gritting his teeth. Gal tackled Ezra's teammate, knocking the two of them into Sarah as a bolt of electricity leaped from the Son's forehead, sizzling into the rock where Mat had been standing. The three of them fell out of sight, tumbling down the hallway leading out. The thunder-struck, still bound with conductive metal and sitting in a small puddle, jerked violently and bit back a cry of pain.
Sebastian moved fast. In the blink of an eye he had charged past Ezra, kicking the struck in the head and leveling his bolt-thrower on the seer. His shot flew true, only to be caught at the last second by a stream of water as his target bobbed and wove toward them. Seb was already reloading and preparing another round when a blast of water caught his hand and froze the weapon solid.
He took a swing at his opponent, but the water-seer smoothly danced under his arm, so swift and graceful that he could have been standing still. One hand flashed to his hip as the other blurred toward his throat, twisting upwards, and suddenly Sebastian was flying toward the ceiling. He hit with bone shattering force and plummeted to the ground, lifeless.
Ezra's body reacted before he could think. His sword flashed out, arcing in a deadly slash the instant the seer came in range. He may as well have been swinging a pillow. The seer skipped away lightly, one hand sweeping out to fluidly re-direct the sword's tip to the floor as the other gestured toward the ice currently binding the bolt-thrower. The frozen water flowed away from the weapon it held captive, catching Ezra's blade and anchoring it immovably to solid stone. Freed from the ice's grasp, Sebastian's hand fell open, the small crossbow dropping free, less than a meter away. Ezra released the sword and desperately lunged for the weapon just as two cool fingers pressed lightly to his throat. His body went rigid. He couldn't breathe. The ice around his foot melted away as the seer effortlessly lifted him, turning him around.
“Well now,” purred a soft, feminine voice. “This is a surprise.” Her free hand moved to lift away her deep hood. Glossy black hair spilled out to frame a lovely face; smooth, copper colored skin, marred only by three small, artfully arranged scars; stars resting above eyes like the ocean on a cloudless night. Ezra's heart dropped as he tried to speak. Or maybe scream.
“Hello, boy,” Ariella said gently. “I hope you remember me.”