Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (13 page)

Well, that brought interesting images to mind. Women on women. Elei felt his eyes go wide and his throat dry.

Kalaes made a noise as if he’d swallowed a fly and turned his face away.

Hera leaned back, smirking. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Just wondering.” Maera snorted. “You
do
know a lot about the Gultur, don’t you?”

“An awful lot,” Hera said in a voice like steel. “You cannot begin to imagine.” She turned to Kalaes. “Your beeper. Now. I have delayed too much already. Be alert in case they find you. I must return to work.” She turned to Maera. “Do you have a beeper, too?”

“Left it at work,” Maera said. Kalaes took his beeper out and tossed it to Hera.

She caught it deftly and placed it in a hip pocket of her suit. “So long.”

“What are you going to do?” Kalaes called out to her retreating back.

“You would rather not know,” her voice floated from the stairwell, and then she was gone like a ghost.

“Rest,” Kalaes said to Elei. “There’s nothing else to do right now but wait.”

Elei curled tight, too cold. His legs ached, his chest felt compressed. His stomach twisted. The void waited, an open mouth, to swallow him again. He slipped under instantly. Time fragmented.

The little girl, Poena, flicked her golden hair and laughed at him, laughed and laughed, her face turning into a grotesque animal mask, a long muzzle with sharp teeth dripping saliva.

A great weight crushed him. He heard tinny voices, the rustle of bodies moving. He was drowning in blood, swallowing it, choking, unable to breathe.

Space lurched. He felt himself moving, but he wasn’t the one in control of his limbs. Vomit rose in his throat and he tasted the sweet copper of blood.

Urgent voices, a shout, indistinct sounds.

Fresh liquid trickled through his lips and he licked them, grateful for something else than the sourness of his mouth. Coolness rested against his forehead, and he shivered because he was hopelessly cold, his body made of marble stone, heavy and not his to command. His limbs shook and something held him down, against the hardness of the bench. Then more bile rose, more blood to vomit, more disorientation.

And then nothing.

Chapter
Sixteen

F
irst
came gravity, pressing his body down. Then came feeling. Elei lay on something hard, even and cold as ice — like a grave must feel. But a bulky jacket and blankets wrapped him in a warm cocoon, so the probabilities of being buried were not so high. Who would waste a perfectly good jacket on a corpse?

Smell was an unwelcome bonus. The sour stench of vomit cloyed the air. Then taste returned, and he wished it hadn’t either, foul as rotten garbage. On its heels followed pain, a splitting headache, and his midsection felt as if someone had laid him open with a chainsaw, though he was sure he’d remember something like that. 

Sounds filtered in, low voices and the dripping of liquid. A distant buzz like the wind. Rustling of clothes.

Time to test another sense. He fought to open his eyes. That was kind of difficult; they refused to obey. He tried again, moving his head, as if to dislodge the spiderwebs that sealed them closed.

A gasp, then steps. A man’s voice.
Kalaes
. “He’s awake.”

“Thank the gods.”
Maera
. “Elei, can you hear me?”

The events of the last hours returned. Hera, the flight from Aerica, the secret chamber under the field of stones. Words wouldn’t come, his throat was too dry, his breath was too shallow, his mind too sluggish. Answering was beyond him. He shut out the voices and concentrated on his un-cooperative eyes. He cursed silently, struggled harder, and finally his crusted lashes parted.

Hazy outlines. Muted colors, shades of brown and gray. His dry, gritty eyes itched. He now saw a face in a halo of curls. Something alighted on his cheek — a hand.

“Maera,” he attempted to say. His voice wouldn’t come out. But he saw her teeth glinting. She was smiling. That made him feel better.

“Drink this.” She pressed something cool to his lips, and liquid wet his lips. She raised his head with one strong hand and he gulped down the water. She took the cup away far too soon. “Enough.”

Right
. He concentrated on keeping it down.

“Hey.” Kalaes crouched before him, his face inches from Elei’s. “Feeling better?”

He blinked, not sure it would be taken as an answer, but Kalaes seemed to understand. He ruffled Elei’s hair, then pulled back his hand. “You almost gave me a heart attack, fe. I don’t want to add your name to the list of my dead, so have a care.”

“The marks haven’t spread more,” Maera said. “The gods saved you. It’s a miracle.”

Only Elei didn’t believe in miracles. The gifts the gods gave always had a price attached, didn’t they?

“Maybe it’s Phorkys, the god of the sea foam, riding on his serpentine fish,” Maera whispered, brushing her smooth fingertips on Elei’s forehead. He sighed, returning for a moment to the past, in Pelia’s apartment, and thought he felt her cool hand on his face, her scent on the air.

“Or maybe cronion fought back,” Kalaes said, breaking the spell. He grinned. “Your own private champion.”

“Maybe,” Elei rasped.

“He speaks! I can’t believe my ears!” Kalaes whooped, then pressed a hand to his brow, pretending to swoon, and said in a melodramatic voice, “That’s it, I’m a believer. Elei’s possessed by a god.”

Maera laughed and shoved at Kalaes’ shoulder. Her eyes glowed as if lit from within. “Don’t make fun of him when he’s sick.”

“But it’s the best time. He can’t fight back!” Kalaes winked at Elei and grabbed Maera’s hand, keeping it against his shoulder. “Come on, fe. Tell me which god has taken possession of you. Magic-shitting Nereus with his fishtail and big fork, or is it a goddess, that awesome chick, Thetis, who rules in her coral palace?”

“Stop it!” Maera giggled. “You’re such a clown.”

Elei’s mouth twitched.

Kalaes opened his mouth to say more, but his gaze snapped to the side and he raised a hand as if to silence them.

“What?” The blankets shifted against Elei and Maera rose, arms crossed over her stomach.

“There’s someone outside.” Kalaes straightened, a dark silhouette against the luminescence of the green fungi covering the walls.

On cue, loud banging rang on the trapdoor, followed by a woman’s voice. “Open this door right now. It is urgent.”

“Hera.” Kalaes strode to the stairwell and disappeared up the stairs.

Maera scowled. She caught Elei’s concerned look and blushed, mouth twisting. “Sorry. I don’t trust Hera.” She rubbed her arms.

He could understand that. Who knew what role Hera played in all this.

Hera followed Kalaes inside. Her hair was loose today and she looked frazzled. A red flush marked her cheekbones.

“You must leave immediately.” Her voice fell like a whip. “You have been found.”

Elei gathered his legs closer to his body. A chill snaked up his spine.

Kalaes cursed. “How?”

“Hard to tell.” Hera paced to the wall and back. “They must have tracked the signal of your beeper through the system before I destroyed the chip. Gods, I knew this was going to happen.”

“And it took them so long?”

“All systems are down or barely working. Gultur policy, remember? Trying to slow down the Undercurrent. Well, they’re slowing down their own people, too, the ones staying outside the Bone Tower.”

“Great.” Maera went to gather their things from the table — bottles, packages and bags.

“Elei.” Hera nodded in his direction. “I see you are still alive. Good.” A mote of satisfaction danced in her voice.

“He was out for two days,” Maera said. 

Elei gaped.
Two days?
  

“Come on, fe.” Kalaes hauled Elei up. The world tilted madly and he hung in Kalaes’ arms. “Come on, we must go.”

He agreed wholeheartedly, only his legs wouldn’t carry him and he hardly felt his feet inside his boots. His head seemed too heavy for his neck. Leaning on Kalaes, he took laborious steps in the direction of the stairs. Maera took his other side and together they half-carried him up the steps and out into the late afternoon.

A thick gray cloud sat on the horizon. Elei squinted at it as he stood wheezing, and it expanded like a malevolent spirit.

“It’s them.” Hera stepped out, gun in hand. She strode over to a covered vehicle and pulled back the cover.

Their aircar. Hera unlocked it. “Get in. I’ll drive.”

They climbed inside. Kalaes and Maera settled Elei down, wedged between them. He was cold and glad for the warmth of their bodies on either side of him, and for their solid presence after the nightmares.

“How do you get around without being caught?” Kalaes asked. “Don’t they ever stop you at the checkpoints?”

“I have the necessary codes.” Hera took the driver’s seat and powered the aircar up. It rumbled and rose from the ground vertically, then shot away. “As long as I have some access to their communications system, we’re fine.”

At a dizzying speed they flew over the plain, over patches of cultivated land and brown spongy earth, in the direction of the mountains. Holes marred the slopes of the hills, and hoverbarges surrounded them. They overflew small towns, patches of brightness. They were approaching the first
dakron
mines.

“Where to now?” Maera cleared the foggy window with her sleeve and pressed her nose to it.

“An apartment in Akmon. I’ll leave you there, come later with provisions. Try and make the stupid boy remember what Pelia told him. You cannot keep running forever; they will find you.”

No kidding
, Elei thought muzzily.
Stupid boy, huh?
Maybe he was. He couldn’t understand why these people were after him. But at least he was finally getting warmer and feeling was returning to his extremities. He wiggled his toes inside his boots.
Good
. He’d been afraid someone had cut off his feet and they weren’t telling him. He moved his fingers in his lap.
All there. Thank the gods
. He wondered if things could get any crazier — if that was even possible.

“Feeling better, fe?” Kalaes grinned and tousled Elei’s hair.

“You’ll make him dizzy again, and he’ll throw up all over us,” Maera muttered.

Kalaes shuddered dramatically and withdrew his hand. “Gods forbid.”

Elei’s lips twitched.

“Where are you going, Hera?” Kalaes pressed his forehead to the window, hand coming up to clear the glass pane. “There’s no town here.”

“I’m trying to lose them, they’re at our backs.”

“What?” Kalaes twisted to look through the back window. “Whoa, what in the hells? It’s the whole pissing Fleet of the Gultur! I can’t believe it.”

Elei opened his mouth but no sound came out.
The Fleet?

Maera squeaked and turned around too. The aircar rocked.

“Nunet’s snakes, stop moving around! You’ll get us all killed.” Hera’s voice shook with fury. She jabbed at the accelerator button and they got knocked back against their seats.

Elei looked behind. The Fleet darkened the sky, growing like a malignant fungus.

The aircar shot off the main road, the propellers at the back giving a pitiful whine. Off the cemented track, the aircar dipped and rocked. Maera yelped. Hera chose a narrow dirt road that wound around a hill. Houses littered one side — low, yellow square buildings with flat roofs. Blue algae ponds stretched ahead like mirrors. The aircar glided over the dark water, straightening, as it raced toward the mass of mountains.

“Do you even know what’s after the next hill?” Kalaes shouted over the whir of the sputtering engine.

The fields ended and Hera drove onto land once more. She swerved around a tall, tower-like building that looked like a storehouse and the aircar wobbled. “Do you?”

“Hells, what are you doing? We’ll crash!” Kalaes climbed over the backrest and fell next to Hera on the front seat as she took another dirt road seemingly at random. “Let me drive.”

“Sit. Down.” Hera didn’t even turn toward him. “I know the area. We shall hide.”

“Where?” Kalaes settled with a muffled curse and pulled out his gun, glancing out of the front windowpane.

“I know a place.” She grunted. “Put away your gun. A gunshot could give them our exact position.”

Kalaes lowered it. “It’s reflex.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to try and take out the Fleet with one gun.”

“Good to know.” She killed the lights with a flick of her hand, eyes intent on the road ahead as they drove on. The last rays of daylight traversed the aircar like golden ribbons.

Elei stared at the back of her head, all that dark hair dancing like a curtain of beads in a breeze. In the faint light from the panel, he could see Hera’s hand on the controls, a fine wrist, long fingers. Tiny black marks traced the finger bones. He wondered what they were.
A tattoo?

“They’re coming,” Maera hissed and pressed her face to the window. “Dammit, Hera, they’re almost on top of us.”

“They have not seen us yet.”

The supersonic hum vibrated now through the moving aircar and through Elei’s teeth and bones. The windows rattled. He turned. The Fleet was splitting up; triangular formations of
seleukids
broke off and flew in opposing directions.

“Search parties,” Maera muttered. “Dammit.”

“Hera!” Kalaes grabbed the steering lever. “Give me the steer.”

They wrestled for the lever and the aircar whirled, knocking Elei against the back seat.

“Let go.” Hera snarled. “We’re almost there.”

“What about their radars? Are you screwing with us?”

“The hills here contain magnetite. It will scramble their signals. I told you, I know this place.”

Elei swallowed hard, his body shaking as he straightened. They were going to die. He was caught in a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

Maera reached over the seat, grabbed Hera’s shoulder. “Kalaes will drive,” she hissed. “He’ll get us out of here.”

“And take us where? We can take cover behind that hill over there. We must hide, do you understand?” Hera panted, immobilized by Maera’s grip, as the sound of search parties flying not far overhead drowned out her voice. The aircar had slowed. “Let go of me.”