Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (52 page)

“Yes.”

His lips curled in a grin, riding high on adrenaline, his heart pumping furiously. What other word could he try?
‘Below’
. He saw again the medallion, the word and the mermaid underneath. Below the word.

A mermaid
. Siren, wasn’t that the word Hera had whispered?

His hand hovered over the keypad. It was such a wild guess he hesitated. But, hells, he’d run out of ideas and time, and fear curled in his stomach.

A mistake. Rex pounced, grabbing his head in steel claws, jamming fiery blades down his chest, his legs. His hiss sounded too loud in the empty vault.

“Elei—”

“You enter it.” His hands shook and he feared making a mistake. If this was a weaker Rex, he didn’t want to think what the parasite was like in full power. “Here.” He pushed his gun into her hands. “The word. It’s siren.”

Silent, she entered the code, her fingers whispering on the symbols. Her soft cry of surprise told him he’d been right.

The box clicked open, the sound multiplying. She pulled something out; it rasped as she dragged it.

“What is it?”

An ominous rumbling went through the walls. That couldn’t be good.

“A small box,” she said. “I got it. Let’s go.”

No arguments. She grabbed his hand and he let her, the pain fading now they’d avoided the alarm sounding.

Or had they?

They ran out of the round vault door, slammed it shut. Opening the plain black door, they bolted into the corridor.

A Gultur squad was running toward them, coming from their right, faces hard, ponytails swinging, guns held at the ready.

There went the chance to get out without bloodshed.

“Surrender!” called the Gultur heading the others and aimed. “On your knees!”

Immediate danger. At last. Rex lit the world in colors, and the pain left Elei so fast his knees went weak.

But there wasn’t enough time to see if Rex could stop bullets. “Okay. Don’t shoot.”

He nodded to Alendra and they dropped to their knees. He barely felt the impact, everything around him flashing with possibilities.

Now what?
There were ten Gultur, armed to the teeth, closing in. Alendra held the box on her lap. He leaned sideways, slipped an arm around her as if hugging her, and drew out his Rasmus. Holding it loosely behind his back, he waited.

Rex marked for him the heads and chests of the Gultur with splashes of red. But how to stop them from shooting and hitting Alendra?

Not enough time to think. The squad reached them and formed a semi-circle, ten guns pointing down at them.

“Take off your hood,” commanded the leader, her whole body phosphorescent in Elei’s possessed eye.

He bowed his head. What could Rex do at such close range? This was the end.

Soft patter reached his ears from behind, padded paws crossing the cold stone floor. The peppery scent of Rex came in strong waves.

Cats. Tens, maybe hundreds of them coming from the left in a furry tide. Their tails rose like antennas as they trotted with single-minded focus toward the guards.

The Gultur shifted, glancing at each other, their aim steady. One of them said something in the language Elei didn’t understand, and another snickered.

Then the cats attacked.

“Down!” Elei grabbed Alendra and they sprawled as hissing balls of fur flew through the air and shots went wild, hitting walls and doors, sharp chips of stone and wood whizzing by, slicing through their skin. Elei raised his face enough to see the Gultur down on the floor, fighting the enraged cats that scratched and bit, snarled and growled.

He raised his gun as Alendra stirred with a groan. Something sharp had cut her cheek and blood dribbled down her jaw. Without a word she stood, the box clutched to her chest. He nodded at her, and they backed away from the strange fight taking place on the floor.

He held the gun pointing down as they ran back the way they’d come in, passing the ornate gates of the courts and the Echoes’ apartments. Guards were running toward the fight, barely sparing them a glance — a hooded mortal and a girl holding a small box. When one of the guards stopped and opened her mouth, frowning, Elei jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Cats. They’re rabid. Do something!”

The guard’s jaw sagged. She glanced toward the sounds of fighting and started to run.

Alendra grabbed his hand and squeezed. They continued at a slower pace and he dropped back a step, as when they’d first entered.

More cats passed them by, running toward the fight.

The army of Rex
. It was ridiculous, but also scary.
And effective
.

Alendra tucked the box under one arm and walked at a brisk pace down the corridor, not glancing back to see if he followed.

Colors still flashed around him, and his tainted eye throbbed in time to his pulse. Ahead, daylight spilled through an open door. The kitchens.

Alendra slowed, nodded toward the door and handed him the box.
Right. Keep the appearances.

They entered in silence. With one hand he held the package, with the other he kept the gun against his thigh, half-hiding it inside a pocket. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the handle. It felt weird to return here after all that had happened. Nothing had changed in the hall with the long tables, the women cutting the meat, the cloying smell of blood and human sweat, except he only saw bright outlines and flashing crimson, and the long butcher knives glowed white.

They strode between the blood-spattered counters, the spilled blood almost black in his eyes, and crossed the threshold into the yard.

The moment it took his eyes to adjust to the bright daylight, four guards moved in to intercept them.

Alendra reached down for her longgun just as he began to lift his Rasmus. He grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the street, placing himself between the guards and her. If they made it out and round the corner, they may be safe.

Shots rang. Something hit him in the shoulder blade, rattling all his bones, and he was thrown forward. He fell on top of Alendra and managed to shift to the side as they dropped, not to crush her. He rolled on his back, seeing white.

He blinked at Alendra’s blond ponytail. Long strands of hair tickled his nose and he wrinkled it. He could’ve sworn he’d been hit, but he was still breathing. His back felt like a massive bruise. Had the snakeskin stopped the bullet?

When he tried to move his arm, he was pleasantly surprised to find he could. His questing fingers found the box, still in one piece, just beyond his head. He pulled it to his chest.

Steps thumped on flagstones, and the clicks of longguns loading sent him scrambling to stand. He nudged Alendra who rolled over with a small groan. Her lips were bloodied.

Again there were guns aimed at them, gods dammit.

He fumbled for his gun but it wasn’t there. Frantic, his heart booming, he felt around for it. His wrists burned, like stings of hot needles, as did his temples and his neck. Pissing hells, what now? He saw his Rasmus lying less than three feet away, but the guards closed in and the guns pointed down at him. A glance showed him Alendra, eyes wide, face pallid.

“
Itja
!” The Gultur who spoke poked the muzzle of her gun under Elei’s chin, lifting it. “
Nebi Sobek
.”

Oh great
. He closed his eyes so she wouldn’t see their different colors and turned his head as much as he dared to hide the snakeskin on his cheek. The burning in his wrists and temples scorched his skin.

“
Senet
.” Another of the four Gultur guards sniffed the air. “
Nebeti
.”

Elei slitted one eye and glanced around. The four Gultur straightened, puzzled expressions on their fine-featured faces. One of them pointed at Alendra.

Alendra gripped his elbow, her gaze questioning. He shrugged, suspecting what had happened. Rex had done it before, making him smell like one of them.

Their confusion wouldn’t last. Rex couldn’t keep this up for long, not even when in top form. Besides, a closer examination would clearly show them Alendra had no scales on her skin, didn’t smell sweet, that she was a mortal.

Judging it safe to shift, he sat up. The street was so close, just ten feet away. If they made it there, hells, if they crawled there before the magic of the scent wore off...

Alendra’s brows, a shade darker than her hair, dipped low over her eyes as her gaze moved from Gultur to Gultur.

“Come,” he whispered and dragged himself backward while the Gultur exchanged rapid words he couldn’t understand.

One of them lifted her booted foot and brought it down, trapping Alendra’s leg. “
Senet
?”

Dammit, his wrists didn’t burn anymore and the confusion was clearing from the eyes of the Gultur.

“Run!” He grabbed the box, put his feet under him and stood, grabbing Alendra’s hand and dragging her up with him. She yelped and pulled back, resisting. Cursing, he turned to glare at her.

Two of the Gultur held Alendra’s arms, scowling darkly.

Screw this
. He’d kill them all. He reached down for his gun, aware he’d be dead before he got a shot in, when a cool female voice sounded from behind.

“
Em hotep
. Lower your guns. They’re with me.”

The breath whooshed from his lungs. He lifted his head as the scent of ripe fruit filled his nostrils. Another Gultur. Slender and tall, with sandy hair and gray eyes, her face a perfect oval.

Sacmis?

“
Em hotep
. They work for you?” The guards released Alendra’s arms and took a step back.

“
T’e
.” Sacmis pointed at the other two guards. “Lower your weapons. You have no right over them.”

“There’s a fight in the Palace—”

“But if these two are here, how can they be involved?”

One of the guards coughed behind her hand. “Their presence at the palace is unauthorized—”

“I’m here now.” Sacmis gave a small bow from the shoulders. “Apologies for the inconvenience,
senet
.”

The guards snorted softly and holstered their longguns.

Elei let out a soft breath of relief.

“Take your gun, mortal.” Sacmis nodded at him, then at Alendra. “Let us go. My sisters need to ensure the Palace is secure. We’re in their way.”

Without batting an eye, she turned on her heel and strode toward the gate, her ponytail bouncing. 

“You heard her,” Alendra said, voice barely shaking, and stood, brushing dust from her pants. “Let’s go.”

Not trusting himself to speak just yet, he nodded among flashes of colors and sounds echoing inside his head. A hand seized his wrist.
Alendra
. He glanced at his Rasmus but knew he shouldn’t touch it, not without raising suspicion. Alendra scooped it up and set out after Sacmis.

He stumbled after her, twisting to look at the guards. They’d already turned their back. They strutted toward the kitchens, and their long ponytails swung behind them like tails, a pale blue in his tainted vision.

“Where’s Cat?” He hadn’t thought of the little black cat during all the mess.

“Come now.” Alendra jerked a little on his arm to get him going. “I’m sure your cat is fine.”

But Elei wasn’t so sure, and couldn’t explain even to himself why the thought of losing the little furball made him sad. “Yeah.”

He freed his hand from Alendra’s hold and grabbed his gun. Hurrying after her, he flipped up the safety and pushed the Rasmus through his belt, because his hand shook too much and he was afraid he might drop it. Rex still didn’t let go of him, clutching his skull, heightening his senses. After all, it was right. They weren’t out of danger yet. His pulse pounded in his ears.

Following Sacmis’ dwindling form out of the Palace grounds and into the street, he gradually became aware of a low voice talking. He turned to Alendra, saw her lips move. Why couldn’t he hear?

“Elei.” She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. “Snap out of it. Hey!”

“What?” He shrugged off her hand and took a step to the side. “What is it?”

“You were grinding your teeth.” She sighed and picked up her pace, keeping her gaze ahead. “I thought you were going into a fit or something.”

He trailed after her, rubbing his tainted eye. Sacmis stood a ways down the street, waiting, a yellow silhouette with a darker center. What was she doing here, helping them? Was she an ally or a spy, as Hera feared?

“Hurry!” Sacmis called, hands on her hips. “Is everything all right?”

And that, Elei thought as he jogged to catch up, the afternoon light in his eyes, was the question of the day.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

“A
re Hera and
Kalaes okay?” Elei kept his hand on the grip of his Rasmus as they hurried through the streets of Dakru City. The way looked vaguely familiar, but it was hard to believe they’d only passed through there a few hours before. The intensity of the colors finally lessened and the pounding in his head dropped to a faint drumming, allowing him to think.

“I have not seen them,” Sacmis muttered, sounding angry. “If only Hera was not so stubborn, if she’d let me help—”

“Did you tell her you wanted to help?” Alendra said, her voice a low hiss. “Because I thought you worked for the other side.”

“Hera should know better, should not doubt me,” Sacmis huffed, and she sounded so much like Hera that Elei’s lips twitched. “Nunet, no, it’s my fault,” she said. “We fell out long ago. She does not know me anymore.”

But she thinks of you
. “Why didn’t you come with us at the hospital then?” Elei asked, curious and suspicious. “Why did you just let us pass?”

“I could not let them suspect me, not yet.” Sacmis slowed. She glanced over her shoulder at him and her face was grim. “I had to wait until it all was over.”

“Until they’d killed Kalaes or driven him insane?” Fury choked Elei. He strode forward and grabbed Sacmis’ arm, jerking her around. The colors flared again, dammit, and his heart thumped uncomfortably fast.

She gasped, gray eyes widening, and shoved him with such force he stumbled back a few steps. They stood glaring at each other.

“Not here!” Alendra stepped between them, gripping Elei’s arm and turning to face Sacmis, her cool scent wrapping around Elei like an embrace. “Wait ‘til we’re far away and safe before you snap each other’s heads off.” Her fingers dug into Elei’s bicep, warm and solid, grounding him, calming his pounding heart.

Sacmis stared at them, her eyes flashing, then she nodded, a quick jerk of the chin.

Alendra turned to him, waiting for him to say something. In the distance, he thought he heard shouts and gunshots, and he flinched.

“You’re right,” he muttered, “we should get moving,” and was sorry when Alendra released him.

They resumed walking in strained silence, hurrying through narrow streets and crossing avenues. Military activity was evident everywhere, though Elei couldn’t be sure it was above average for a Gultur city. Heavy wheel-cars and armored aircars with mounted cannons trundled by, outnumbering the civilian vehicles. Gultur armed with longguns and even machine-guns strapped across their backs stood in groups of three or four outside a rectangular, box-like building that had to have some high administrative function.

The fruity Gultur smell was everywhere, assaulting him on every side. “Damn you,” he whispered, and found his hand squeezing the gun grip again.

Sacmis turned, giving him a narrow look as they turned into a side street Elei vaguely remembered. “You do not see the bigger picture,” she said, her voice infuriatingly calm. “Did you never wonder why you found Kalaes in one piece? Did you think my sisters would hesitate to break his bones and gut him like a fish?”

Elei halted, breath caught in his throat. “What?” He forced his feet to walk on. “Are you saying you were the reason?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We look out for each other.”

“Who? The Gultur?”

“No, boy. The resistance. And now shut up, this conversation is even less suitable for this time and place.” She peeked at a Gultur squad marching down a street.

“You started it.” But the silence was good, because he needed time to wrap his mind around this new tidbit.

If it was true.

Hells
. Heat drummed in his veins. The aircars zipping down the avenue blinked like giant fireflies in his eyes, the Gultur and the few other mortals strolling on the sidewalks — multicolored containers of light. Alendra was a bright beacon to his right and Sacmis ahead glowed faintly. His fingers itched to lift his Rasmus, pull the trigger.

Stop it
. She’d helped them, for all the gods’ sakes, saved their asses.

A way to gain our trust, to double-cross us. Hera would know what to do. Hera’s in love with her, she can’t see straight. Hera’s one of them. His mouth was dry like a bone.

Between watching Sacmis and the street for anything suspicious, he barely noticed when they reached the Management House and the entrance to the sewer tunnels. It all looked different anyhow, cool blues and greens of inanimate material, broken by the pale yellow of fungi on the walls, dismissed by Rex as unimportant, non-threatening. His fingers curled around the handle of his gun when Sacmis reached for the door.

“I’ll do it,” he heard himself snap. “Stand back.”

He couldn’t risk her entering first and hurting Hera or Kalaes.
But she saved you
, the little voice insisted inside his throbbing head. He scowled.
And yet, I don’t trust her
. 

Sacmis growled something, lost in the thumping of his heart — too hard, too fast, how long had he been running? — and he raised his gun, clicking off the safety. Alendra muttered some curse, Sacmis stepped aside.

He pushed the door open and entered.

The muzzle of a gun was pressed to his forehead, an icy mouth, a parody of a kiss. A breathless, rough voice said, “Drop your gun.”

But his fingers wouldn’t unclench and Rex was already focusing on his assailant’s head — he could make it if he slid sideways and raised his hand fast enough—

“Elei?” The gun left his forehead and a hand grabbed his forearm. “Damn, you’re okay, fe!”

The words swirled like leaves in a water drain, turning and tumbling, meaningless, pretty sounds. He lifted his Rasmus, took aim.

Then the meaning sank in, and he knew who it was. “Kalaes.”

“Yeah. You got it?”

Elei lifted the slim box, nodding.

Rex made Kalaes’ head and chest flash, blinding bright. Elei closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath and forced his hand down. It felt like pushing through solid stone.
It’s Kalaes. Safe
.

“And Hera?” He finally managed to lower his gun all the way and took another step inside to let the others in.

“There.”

She sat on a bench, shoulders hunched. Fear froze his blood. “She’s hurt.” He knew it before he even saw the stained gauze wrapped around her arm and the butterfly bandage on her cheek.

His pulse hiccupped, then roared, racing. The tang of her blood, brown sugar and honey and
como
flowers, hit him like a kick in the chest. He could see her bleed —
her blood spurting, her mouth gape open, her heart pumping in his hand
—

“Who in the hells is this?” Kalaes snapped, and Elei spun around, his gun coming up again. Colors streaked around the room.

Kalaes gestured at the door.

Elei drew a shaky breath.
Hold it together
. “Kalaes, meet Sacmis. She’s a Gultur and we owe her our lives.”

Kalaes made a good imitation of a fish, mouth opening and closing, and he blanched.  Elei gave him a once-over, head to toes, but saw no evidence of any wounds. Breathing out, a weight lifting off his chest, he lowered his gun as Alendra motioned Sacmis inside.

“Sacmis?” Hera’s voice was soft, disbelieving. Elei remembered how she’d sounded when she said she’d kiss Sacmis if they met, and now it all was so complicated. He guessed life was like that, even more complex than dreams.

“Hera.” Sacmis took a step inside, her gray eyes sparkling, then stopped when Kalaes’ gun pressed into her side. Elei blinked. He hadn’t even seen him move.

“Easy, sweetheart, stay put until we decide what to do with you,” Kalaes said, his grin angry and sharp. He gave her a wide berth on his way to close and bolt the door, and he kept the gun trained on her.

“I came to help you, give you important information,” Sacmis said, her expression pinched. “I’m a friend.”

“You’re a Gultur and I, for one, don’t know you,” Kalaes muttered, returning to stand before her and holding the gun steady with both hands. “Guilty ‘til proven innocent, that’s my rule.”

Hera approached, stumbling halfway there, her face pinched. Elei and Kalaes took a step toward her at the same time, and, hells, Sacmis too, but Hera raised her uninjured hand to stop them.

“What are you doing here, Sacmis?” Hera’s face was a study in confusion and anger and something else, something raw and painful.

“I came to find you,” Sacmis said softly.

“Why?” The word practically dripped blood. Hera shook her head. “After all these years, why?”

Sacmis bit her lip and her eyes shimmered. “I could not wait any longer. I may have compromised my mission, may have lost my post, but I missed you.”

“What mission?” The blood drained from Hera’s face and Elei wondered if she was about to faint for the first time since he’d known her. He hovered nearby in case he needed to catch her.

Sacmis licked her lips and clenched her hands against her thighs. “It’s classified. I’ll tell you, but not here and—”

“Not good enough,” Kalaes gritted and pressed his gun against her shoulder, pushing her back a step. “What are you doing here? How can we trust you?”

Elei’s pulse thundered inside his skull, and his finger jerked toward the trigger. Hera’s scent was rising again like a ghost, entering him, filling him. He struggled to keep the gun pointing down, not to shoot her, not to kill her.
No. I’m in control
. He breathed deeply, in and out.
Everything’s fine. I’m fine
.

“Hera has known me since we were children,” Sacmis was saying, her voice a distant echo. He focused on it. “We went on our first unsupervised patrol together.”

“And you know how that ended,” Hera said bitterly.

Kalaes tsked. “That doesn’t sound good to me.”

“She saved us,” Alendra cut in, her eyes bright. “The guards caught us and she helped us out. She’s on our side.”

“Or,” Kalaes said, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, “she arranged this with the guards beforehand to gain your damn trust and follow you here.”

“I work for the resistance,” Sacmis said, her brow wrinkling. “We’re allies.”

“Why would you?” Hera said. “You do not believe in our cause.”

“You judge me,” Sacmis jabbed a finger at Hera, her voice rising, “for my beliefs when I was still very young. We have barely talked to each other in years. How would you know what I believe in now?”

Hera pinched the bridge of her nose. Her dark hair had come loose from its knot and hung tousled around her face. “Maybe so. What do you want?”

“To see you. To help you.”

“You said your mission is classified.” Hera’s voice was still soft. “I thought we were all equals in the resistance, that we had access to all information. Why are there classified files and secret projects? How is this different from the regime?”

“Maybe it is not different.” Sacmis’ voice wavered and she raised a small but callused hand toward Hera. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Kalaes pushed her back with his gun. “This is all very nice,” he muttered, “but we need to get moving.”

The vibrating tension snapped.

“Yeah, let’s.” Alendra nodded at Hera. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I go first.”

“No, let your friend here do the honors.” Kalaes’ grin was downright scary. “After you,” he gave a small, mocking bow to Sacmis, “sweetheart.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Sacmis said, pointedly ignoring Kalaes and moving to Hera’s side. “You may need help.”

Kalaes growled but Hera said nothing, turning to go.

“I’ll go last,” Elei muttered. He watched them, an array of flashing outlines and pulsing centers, his finger shaking on the trigger. With each flash, he thought he saw other faces, Pelia, Albi, Afia, Jek. Was this reality or a nightmare?

Alendra filed by, followed by Kalaes, Hera and then Sacmis. Hera’s scent of ripe fruit and flowers lingered behind, strong, too strong. The need to spill her blood twisted like a blade in Elei’s chest. Wondering why Rex didn’t react that way with Sacmis, his heart racing, he followed and closed the door behind him.