The Chilling Change Of Air (Elemental Awakening, Book 3) (29 page)

But neither happened, and as Theo wrapped two hands around my shoulders and pulled me out of the way so he could approach it, I felt a fissure appear inside me, right down the middle, right through my heart, my body and my soul.

"Help me with this, Casey," he called. I hadn't realised I'd turned away to hide my tears. To hide my shame at losing hope so readily. To hide my exhaustion and fear.

I sucked it up and went to him, because if Theo could keep going then so could I.

The door was stuck tight, as though it hadn't been used in decades, but Aktor must have opened it to retrieve the wine. Still it required brute strength and a few, obviously, swearwords in Greek from Theo and then finally the wood groaned, the hinges creaked and slightly stale, cool air wafted up to meet our noses.

And the smell of death.

"They're down there," I said, trying to push past him.

"Cassandra," he urged, holding me back. "Let me go first."

I shook my head, frantic to get to Sonya and Mark, to check on Nico and Aktor, and yes, even the bitch Isadora. Desperate to just get down there. To move. To do something. Anything. Why was Theo delaying?

"Please," he pressed, holding me steady in his arms, his desperate eyes pleading with me to listen.

My shoulders slumped. He thought they were dead. I nodded and sat down on a stray bit of broken furniture not even registering the sun that had risen in the sky, or the heat of its rays on my back.

"I'll be just a minute," he promised, and then slipped through the hole in the ground and disappeared out of sight.

I heard a frantic voice at first, echoing and quite a distance away. Then the sounds of heavy footfalls on the stairwell, getting closer and closer, moving quickly. I almost didn't look. Too scared to see his face, to see what I was sure I already knew.

But I haven't had to face a psychotic
Pyrkagia Rigas
, or an equally unstable
Gi
Queen, or the mad ramblings of an ancient
Aeras
, or dream visits from a dead grandparent without growing a thick skin.

I stood up and braced myself, hands held tightly in front of my body as my chin lifted and my eyes remained clear... and Isadora scrambled out of the dark hole in the ground. She looked around, blinking in the brightness, taking in the destruction and annihilation, and then finally spotting me.

"You are one hard to kill
Ekmetalleftis
," she declared. I think she'd been trying for a teasing tone, but the truth of her words stopped any notion that she was pleased to see me.

"My brother," I started, unable to spare energy for a ridiculous feud.

"Alive and kicking and the reason we all are as well." Mark
had
been able to use his connection to Air to protect them. Despite being cut-off from the Element,
Aeras
had recognised him and kept him - and those with him - safe. Just like me and Theo. I felt my strength vanish as adrenaline ceased being produced in my veins.

"Sonya?" I asked, taking a step closer.

Isadora's face assumed that
Athanatos
mask. Blank. Cold. Heartless.

"She's hurt, isn't she?" I said, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Come on," Dora ordered, turning her back to me, ignoring my question, and beginning the decent into the darkness again.

I followed behind her too perfectly clothed body wishing nothing more than to rip her sleek, dark locks right out of her skull. Anger at what had happened, at my best friend being harmed because of these arrogant, self-righteous, egotistical beings, flamed inside me, ripped through my composure and made me silently snarl.

Athanatos
are primal, aggressive, predatory creatures, and I was no different, even if I hadn't been born one.

"I can feel your rage from here," Isadora announced, in a clearly bored tone, as we continued down the stairwell, then passed shelf upon shelf of dust covered bottles, the odd one fallen and shattered on the cold stone floor, red liquid, the shade of blood, seeping into the cracks that had formed.

We rounded another corner before I could find my voice and be sure it wasn't a growl.

"Then I'm surprised you've turned your back on me," I offered.

"Oh, I'm not scared of you, little girl," she bit back, flicking a glance over her shoulder and rolling her eyes.

I realised I could see then, when the hole in the floorboards above had seemed pitch black. But the farther we progressed, into what was soon becoming an enormous underground substructure, the lighter it became. Until I noticed a battery operated lantern on the side of the wall to illuminate the way, then a short distance later as we started to pass racks of foodstuffs, water flagons, various first-aid equipment, survival gear and even bedding, a naked flame flickered from a candle, resting on a bare shelf high above.

Then the warmth of what had to be more fire as we came into a large area with impressive stone arched pillars that had miraculously survived the initial earthquake. And on closer inspection I could see why; they'd been reinforced, the area at the base of each column sitting on top of what could only be called a metal plate, that rested on oversized spring coils.

"Earthquake proofed," I whispered, astounded this had been beneath us all along.

My eyes lifted to the area that had been cleared of a large table, now stacked against a far wall, blankets and makeshift mattresses on the floor, and one couch on the far side with Sonya lying spread out, pale, lids closed, dark shadows under her eyes.

I rushed over as Isadora threw herself onto a pile of cushions beside a brazier flaring brightly. God only knew where the smoke was going, but it didn't seem overly hazy in here, just a small amount from the many candles that were lit around the space.

"Sonya," I whispered, once I'd made it to her side. She didn't stir. Didn't make a sound. Her chest barely rose and fell with each laboured breath. "Where is she hurt?" I asked, the world narrowing in to just this moment.

"She sustained a blow to the head," Aktor murmured quietly from a chair at the end of the couch, by her face, where he was running a wet cloth over her brow. "Hasn't woken up since," he added softly.

I flicked my eyes down to Nico, who sat with my friend's legs resting over his thighs. He looked exhausted. As did everyone, I noticed then. Weary, sorrowful eyes stared back at me.

"We think she fractured her skull," Theo's cousin announced in a reasonably steady voice. "She may have a bleed."

"We have to get her to a hospital, then," I immediately replied.

"
Oraia
," Theo said carefully from behind me. I hadn't realised he'd walked over to stand at my back. "What hospital? They're all gone."

It wasn't until that moment that I truly recognised the enormity of it all. The potential for a loss so deep it would leave nothing salvageable behind.

I'd known this was a disaster. I'd comprehended this was the destruction of the world as we knew it. I'd even been aware that it would get progressively worse. But I hadn't yet subscribed to the notion that this was the End of Days. The true Reckoning. The Apocalypse the bible spoke of. I hadn't been willing to accept that as fate.

I walked stiffly forward and held out my hand to Aktor in a silent request for the cloth he'd been using on my friend. He stood immediately, handing over the sponge and offering a shallow bow, then walked silently away. I slipped onto his chair, ignoring Nico who massaged Sonya's ankles tenderly, Theo who watched on from above worryingly, Isadora who stared at the flames and pretended we didn't exist, and Mark, who I'd finally spotted in amongst one of the shelves of wine downing hundred year old Claret, no doubt.

And all I could do was smooth my best friend's brow with clean water from the bowl that sat at my feet and speak soft words to let her know she was not alone.

In that moment it didn't fail to register that I'd spoken similar words of promise and comfort to the Elements, as I'd sat on the exposed roots of a Moreton Bay Fig Tree, that no longer existed, with my hands sifting through dirt.

It also wasn't missed by me that on both occasions, then and now, it was more of a hope, a fervent wish, than a foregone conclusion.

And right then, as I looked down at the unconscious, ashen face of my closest human friend I really couldn't have told you which dream I wanted more.

The saving of the world.

Or beautiful, effervescent Sonya Marin to live long enough to see the End of Days.

Time seemed different down in what I thought of as the catacombs. Not that this was an underground cemetery, but death did hang on the air. Beckoning Sonya. I refused to let her accept its skeletal hand.

I crooned to her. I bathed her face, kissed her brow. I even begged. But she didn't awaken.

At some point Theo knelt down at my feet and removed the shoes I'd been wearing. Sonya's shoes. I didn't have it in me to complain, just kept tending to my best friend and whispering quietly in her ear. When he dipped the first foot in warm soapy water I stiffened, rising slightly from the fog of oppressive defeat.

"What are you doing?" I asked. My voice was scratchy. I hadn't cried, although I felt like I might. But I'd been whispering non-stop to Sonya, scared if I paused she'd slip away.

"Washing your abused feet," Theo replied, as if it was quite normal to see a prince clean someone's filthy toes.

Nico watched on silently from his end of the couch, a slight change in his expression from before, when he'd just been watching me silently as I talked to Sonya.

"They're fine, Theo," I argued, trying to remove my foot and feeling strangely exposed and alarmed that he was doing this.

"Humour me," he murmured, gripping my ankle firmly and pushing my foot back in the water.

It did feel good. My cuts all healed, but the blood had caked on and dirt coated every surface. How I managed to get mud on top of my feet I don't know, I couldn't remember stepping in any puddles. But then, the streets had been nowhere near what you'd call pristine.

No one said anything as Theo cleaned me up and then from somewhere produced a pair of warm socks. He pulled them on my newly washed feet and then removed the dirty water without a further word.

My stunned eyes came up and found Nico's. He smiled a small amused grin.

"Your
Thisavros
has returned," he murmured, so as not to be heard in the rest of the seemingly vast room.

Immediately I was back on top of Mount Victoria, naked and wrapped up in Theo's arms. My hand came up to my shoulder, where I knew the bite mark would be under the t-shirt and shook my head.

"He's no longer my
Thisavros
," I announced, feeling every word as though it was a knife slicing through my chest.

I hadn't thought there was room to still feel. Staring at Sonya as she lay immobile on the brink of leaving me forever, I was sure there hadn't been room for more heartache.

Nico shook his head back at me, a crooked, knowing smile on his face.

"He's your
Thisavros
, Casey," he countered. "A prince of
Pyrkagia
does not wash just anyone's feet."

I huffed out an incredulous breath, then pointed out to the man, "But he's no longer a prince of
Pyrkagia
, Nico. So I guess things have changed on all fronts."

As I had suspected, Nico didn't have an answer to that. I felt a little chagrined at having reminded him of their exiled status. Wasn't it enough to be facing the End of Days, Sonya's imminent death, and our isolation from our
Stoicheio
? I had to remind him he also couldn't call
Pyrkagia
home. And to a
Pyrkagia
there could be no harder fate to face.

But I didn't have it in me to apologise. I turned back to Sonya and started reminiscing about our youth.

"Do you remember ninth grade?" I asked her, smoothing her hair with my fingers, making sure there were no knots. "Mr Haycock in Chemistry? He had such shocking white hair, we called him Einstein. Unoriginal now that I think about it, but we spent a good portion of each lesson sniggering in the back row. I remember you drew flowers in chalk on the tyres of his car. I swear he was chuffed when he saw them. He didn't wash them off, in any case. And when you coloured them in - pinks, green, blues, yellows - he stood and stared at them for a good five minutes, before opening his door and climbing in the car. That vintage Mini had never looked so good. Whoever thought dark brown for a car was an acceptable colour back in the seventies ought to have been laughed out of the Austin factory."

Theo appeared at my side, a plate of food in his hand. He pulled up a chair and sat down, offering me a cracker with cheese on top. We must have been nearing the end of our perishable supplies. I glanced around the room and saw Isadora and Aktor eating as well, no cheese. Just biscuits and fruit from a tin.

"Is that the last of the cheese?" I asked, not accepting the bite sized portion he held out to me.