Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (54 page)

Wasn’t there? From the corner of his eye, he saw Sacmis standing to the side, a riot of blinding colors. He drew a sharp breath, his pulse rising again, and he clawed at the pain stabbing his chest.

“She’s stressing him,” Kalaes accused, glaring and pointing at Sacmis.

“Both of us are,” Hera muttered. “I’m pure strain, remember? Rex is set against Regina, and at this point it does not seem able to see past that.”

“Perhaps. But Elei doesn’t know Sacmis,” Kalaes said. “We don’t trust her.”

“You may be right.” Hera rose. “He trusts you more than anyone. Stay with him. I’ll send Alendra over, too, and I’ll drive with Sacmis.” She raised a hand when Kalaes opened his mouth to speak. “I’ll be fine. Sacmis will not kill me. Whatever it is she wants, it is not my immediate death.”

Sacmis inhaled sharply, but as she gazed at Hera, her heartbeat accelerated and heat suffused her chest and neck, a brilliant scarlet in Elei’s possessed eye. She tilted her head to the side and reached up to touch her throat with her fingertips.

Sacmis really liked Hera.

Hera’s heartbeat quickened, too, as she reached for Sacmis’ hand, and her scent intensified. Elei could almost feel the sweetness on the tip of his tongue. Rex shook him, and the aircar dissolved in pulsating colors, blinding flashes sweeping it for danger.

He closed his eyes and focused on breathing through the pain, sweat running down his temples, cooling against the hot skin of his neck.

Then fingers threaded through his hair and he squinted up. Alendra leaned over him, her soft pale hair brushing his face. Her scent of cool sea breeze wafted down to him and he inhaled. The blade of pain withdrew from his chest, allowing him a deeper breath.

A heavier hand squeezed his shoulder. He smelled musky sweat and blood, and he rolled his eyes to the right to see Kalaes.

“I’m here, fe,” Kalaes said, his face serious. “Rest, and tell that thrice-damned parasite of yours to rest, too. You’re safe now.”

Safe
. Kalaes was there. It was safe.

The pain receded, rolled back like a tide. The needles jabbing into his brain slid out, the tightness of his chest released, and he tumbled into blessed darkness.

Chapter
Twenty-Three

E
lei jerked
awake time and again, his heart pounding. He thought he saw Alendra lean over him, stroking his forehead, murmuring soft words. He thought he felt cool fingers on his wrist, monitoring his pulse, and Hera’s scent of flowers filled his senses, sent his pulse racing. But it was probably a dream. He woke with Kalaes’ hand on his shoulder, its weight reassuring, steadying his heartbeat. He drifted off again, the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing.

He saw Pelia. She held the gun and the medallion in her hands, and they glowed like lamps, lighting up her face. She wore a low-cut black dress, unlike her usual high-neck blouses, and on her breastbone glittered tiny scales, cascades of them like streaks of jeweled paint.

A Gultur
. He shook himself.
Why didn’t I ever notice?

Pelia turned, holding out the two objects. “I knew I could count on you,” she whispered.

“It was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” He watched her back, her neck where her pinned-up hair fell in curls. “To send me on this mission.”

“Of course it was.” She shrugged and looked over her shoulder, a glint of pleasure showing in her eyes. “I thought you knew.”

“I thought you loved me, that I was like a son to you,” he said quietly. Sadness sucked the light from the room, turning the walls black. “But all along I was just part of your plan.”

“You
were
like a son to me.” She turned around and flames jumped from her face and arms, blinding. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

But before he could smile at that revelation, the flames spread on her flesh, blackened it, ate at it. She was burning; dying.

“No.” The room spun and he couldn’t move, couldn’t even lift his hands to reach her. “Let me help you!”

“You cannot help me now, Elei. Open the box. Find out the truth.”

The fire seared lines and whorls into his retinas. He groaned and fought his inert body, trying to touch her, but the light was fading, her form vanishing, and he was lying on his back in half darkness.

“Pelia!” Blindly he groped about. “Wait!”

“Elei, calm down, fe.”

“Pelia. The box.” Elei panted and looked around, still hoping to find her nearby. “I’ll open it. Wait.”

A shadow cut the light. “Elei?” Kalaes stared blearily down at him, rubbing his face, and then sank to his knees. “Are you okay?”

Elei blinked. Gray morning light spilled from the windows of the aircar, swirling and flashing as the road turned and twisted. The eye-watering stench from their drenched clothes brought back memories of the previous day.

He started when Kalaes touched his arm. Up close, the older boy’s face was lined with fatigue, his dark eyes questioning.

Elei sat up carefully, but his head was clear. A small twinge in his chest stopped him, but it faded quickly. “I’m okay.” He pulled his feet underneath him to stand.

“Don’t.” Kalaes grabbed his arm, tugging. “Dammit, fe, where are you going? Take it easy now. I thought...” He shook his head, eyes darkening. “I thought I’d lost you back there. Just rest.”

Elei sank back down, hugging his knees. “I’m good.”

“Elei?” The soft lilting voice made him turn. Alendra stood at the cockpit door, a smile on her face. “You’re awake!”

He nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Thank the gods you’re okay.” She glanced over her shoulder, and when she turned back to him, she rolled her eyes. “Hera says I’m to drive for a while because she wants to speak with you.” She wiped her hands down her pants. “Talk to you later.”

He nodded again, his tongue tied in a knot. She’d talk to him? About what? Images surfaced in his memory, of her face over him, her hand tangled in his hair. Heat curled around his neck. Had she really been there for him?

Then Hera appeared at the door and her face lit up when she saw him, its lines smoothing out into bright planes. Without a word, she strode over, sank to the floor and took his hands. He stiffened, afraid Rex would stir again, but it was quiet inside his head.

“Elei.” Her hands were warm around his own, her face so close he could see the shadows her long lashes cast on her cheeks. “I’m glad you’re well.”

He drank in her smiling face. “You’re okay,” he murmured.
I didn’t hurt you, didn’t kill you. Didn’t push you away
.

“We succeeded,” she said, breathless. “We took a risk, a gamble, and we found Hecate’s box. Thanks to you. Your dreams were true memories.”

His heart boomed. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah, what’s in it?” Kalaes asked, scooting closer.

Hera bent and pulled the box from under a seat. “It’s a map and documents.” Her eyes smoldered with excitement. “Look.”

He took the slim box, opened it. Inside the lid, in a flowing handwritten script, were the words, ‘Descend below’. A mermaid swam underneath. Just like on the medallion.

“Siren,” he whispered.

“What did you say?” Hera leaned closer, her gaze intent.

“Siren, the mermaid.” He looked up at her. “It was the password to the safety box.”

“Sobek.” Hera snatched her hand back, as if she’d been burned, and her eyes glittered. “Project Siren. I knew Pelia was connected to it.”

“What’s it about?” he asked. “The project.”

“It has something to do with the origin of the Seven Islands. Something important.”

He pulled out a much folded paper and spread it on the floor. A map of the islands. Symbols surrounded them. “These symbols. I’ve seen similar ones on the walls of the tunnels. What do they stand for?”

Hera leaned over, traced them with a finger. “They are religious symbols, linked to the four elements, and to specific minerals and metals.”

Well, hells, what did it all mean? Had it been worth the trouble of getting it?

Kalaes’ tousled head bent over the map, too. “These look like vertical vents below the islands.”

Below the cylinders were cubes and more cubes and more vents... “Below,” Elei whispered. “What is below?”

“Caves?” Hera rubbed her nose. “Geothermal vents?” She licked her lips, her expression going from frustrated to excited and back in a blink. Her cheeks colored. “I think the Gultur have discovered something of great importance, something they’re not sharing. The source of their wealth and power.”

Could this be what Pelia had meant, what she’d wanted them to do? Find the secret of the Gultur and take away their power? Afia’s face swam in his mind. Destroy their power, take possession of their source of wealth. Make sure everyone had food and a roof over their heads, make the world better. Could he do that? Could he do more? Had Pelia expected that much of him?

“We need to study the documents and the map better once we’re back at the safe house,” Hera said. “We need to contact the Undercurrent, report what we have found.”

“With Sacmis?” Kalaes glared. “You’re letting her into an Undercurrent safe house?”

“She’s our prisoner. What else would you have me do?” Hera gathered the map and put it back into the box. “We cannot let her go now, and I cannot... I cannot kill her.”

Kalaes nodded, his expression shuttered. “I wasn’t asking you to. It’s just damn risky.”

“I’ve taken risks before,” she nodded at Elei, “and they paid off.”

From Hera’s lips, that was surely a compliment.

She pushed the box under the seat again and gave them a ghost of a smile. “I’ll go and see if Sacmis is awake. Rest, both of you. You need it.”

“Sure thing.” Kalaes stretched again like a cat, joints popping, and lay down on his back, arms folded underneath his head.

Cat
. “Where’s my cat?”

“That creature?” Kalaes blinked bloodshot eyes. “Must have stayed in Dakru City, fe. What d’you want it for?”

“Nothing.” He missed the warmth on his shoulder, the rough tongue licking his cheek. Cat had been his companion, had been there for him when nobody else had. Shaking off the heavy sense of sadness that settled over his thoughts, he took a deep breath.

Finding the box, coming out alive, that should be all that mattered. But instead of excitement, he felt a strange emptiness.

“What’s wrong, fe?” Kalaes sat up and gave him a dark, no-nonsense look. “Spill.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Did something happen when you went to get the box? Is it Alendra?”

“Alendra?”

“You like her. I can see it in your face when you look at her. Hells, you’re in deep, fe.” Kalaes grinned. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Elei shook his head. “It’s not that.”
No, not only that
. He thought again of her slender fingers tangled in his hair, the freckles on her cheeks, her fresh scent, the way she strode into the Gultur Palace, so confident and beautiful. The way she looked at him sometimes and what the hells that meant.

Kalaes reached out and ruffled Elei’s hair. “There’s nothing to worry about, fe. We’re going home, just you and me. Well, Hera too, if she wants, but I’m not sure she’d like that.”

We are?
“But Zag—”

“Zag.” Kalaes frowned, looking at Elei out of the corner of one dark eye. Then he scowled harder, brows knitting together. “I thought I told you to forget about him.”

Confused, Elei pressed his palms to the cool aircar floor and took a deep breath, determined to explain.

“I made a promise,” he said, “to help you find Zag. Maybe that’ll make your nightmares go away.” He tried to smile, pushing the small pain down where it belonged. He had much more than he’d ever hoped for — friends and warm memories. “Nobody can replace your real family.”

“What are you talking about? That’s not—” Kalaes’ voice cracked, his face twisted. “You don’t need to replace anyone, fe. You have your own place.”

He did?

Kalaes pushed his fingers through his wild hair. “Listen, kid. It seems I wasn’t clear when I tried to explain. Pissing drugs messed up my head. The two braids I had...”

Elei felt them inside the pocket of his pants, writhing like baby snakes, waiting to bite.

“I let them grow in memory of my dead — my dad and my brother.” Kalaes swallowed hard. “Zag died, Elei. He died many years ago. Pissing hells, I can barely remember his face.”

The words penetrated slowly, burrowing into Elei’s mind, coiling there.

“Zag is dead?” Elei whispered, feeling like a fool. He shifted his legs and leaned on his hands for support as the aircar swerved. “But I asked you, and you said he was alive, that he lived in Akert, you said—”

Kalaes pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Akert is the memorial ground near Artemisia. We go there to drink with the dead.” His hands fell to his sides, thumping gently on the floor. “I thought you knew.”

Drink with the dead. Memorial ground
. Elei had never seen one. The bodies of the poor were disposed of in the ocean, and he remembered dragging Albi’s body to the cliffs, sitting by her side until the rabid dogs had come too close, and he’d thrown her into the foaming waves. His memory of her was the only memorial she’d ever have.

“I’m sorry,” Elei muttered. “For your brother.” He couldn’t order his thoughts. “But the rest of your family—”

“Stop.” Kalaes let out a long breath. “You are my family, fe. That is, if you haven’t changed your mind.”

Elei stared at him, his mind refusing to process. “What?”

Kalaes’ mouth tightened. He reached down, and pulled a knife from his belt. He pressed the tip into his palm.

“Kal, stop!” Elei caught Kalaes’ wrist. “What the hells are you doing?”

Kalaes gazed down at the blood welling in his cupped hand, then wiped the knife on his pants and sheathed it. He dipped three fingers in the glistening crimson and raised them toward Elei, touched his fingertips to Elei’s cheek and dragged them, forming lines. A mark mirroring his own tattoo — the symbol of his gang.

Elei’s throat constricted and he had to swallow.

“Brothers,” Kalaes said, his lips quirking in a crooked smile, his eyes serious. “We can do this properly once we stop running, but for now this will have to do.”