Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  Couldn’t tell him why Alendra wasn’t waking up. Gods, he wished Hera was here. She’d know what to do.

  Or Kalaes.

  Elei pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes. Pissing headache. Pissing... everything.

  Casting one last look at Alendra’s still face, he stood to check through the window. No other aircar was in sight.

  “Where are the others?” He turned to Iset who was dozing in the other seat, leaning against Bestret.

  “Taking another route. If we look like a convoy, we’ll attract more attention.”

  It all made too much damn sense, but he didn’t like it. Wasn’t even sure he’d seen Kalaes with the kids. Hadn’t seen his face, hadn’t made sure he was okay. Unease lingered like the taste of something rotten in his mouth.

  He eyed Iset. Could he trust her? Kalaes hadn’t, and now he wasn’t here, and Alendra was out cold.

  “What?” Iset returned the stare and arched a brow.

  “Nothing.”

  The aircar’s lights were off. They moved like a shadow in the night, passing glowing agaric groves and sleepy hamlets, marked by tiny flickering lights. And in the distance, like a white tree, loomed Bone Tower. Its pale spires rose phosphorescent into the dark sky.

  So close.

  Iset hummed, and checked her watch. “We should be at Bone tower in the next ten minutes.”

  “And then what? How do you plan to go in?”

  She tsked. “You have no faith. Trust me, there is a way in.”

  What could he do but trust her? Besides, she’d saved his life, had agreed to help free the kids even if it wasn’t part of her plan. He was just being paranoid. Rex’s fault. Mostly.

  “This fleet stationed at Bone Tower,” he whispered. “Seleukids?”

  “Attalids,” Iset said.

  “What in the hells are they?”

  “Special planes packed with explosives, piloted by temple priestesses on suicidal missions.”

  “Suicidal?” Elei rubbed the furrow between his brows. “What, they just drop with their plane?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh gods. “How many?”

  “Not many are needed to win the war.” She looked thoughtful. “I understand there are around fifty in readiness.”

  “Can they destroy a war machine?”

  “They can destroy anything. They have not been used since the Great War.”

  Elei swallowed hard. “And what makes you think they’ll be used now?”

  Iset threw him a sharp look. “I have received intel that your friends have activated the electric pillars around Dakru. These do not only prevent the ships from approaching. The bridges become unusable, electrocuting anyone stepping on them, and the electromagnetic interference will prevent the regular fleet from approaching the islands.”

  Holy shit. Elei gaped at her. Hera’s delirious ramblings had turned out to be the truth. “So you mean...”

  “If your friends manage to beat the regular fleet, the temple will send in the Attalids, and that will be the end of this battle.”

  Elei bowed his head, digesting that.

  “We need to move you to the back,” Bestret said after a moment’s silence. “Roadblock coming up.”

  He nodded, picked Alendra up. She felt heavier than before. The adrenaline rush was fading, letting him feel all the aches, old and new, and the despair. Why wasn’t she waking? This couldn’t be good, and he didn’t want to think about it but couldn’t stop. He hefted her as the aircar halted and the door hissed open. Carried her to the back. Bestret opened the cargo door and ushered him inside.

  And he let her. Sparkling spores from a nearby grove washed over him, rained down like fireflies as he climbed up. He was so damn tired, and everything was spiraling out of control.

  He sat next to Alendra’s still body, listening to her breathe, and closed his eyes. Nothing more he could do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Hera descended into the depths of the earth, the air turned still and damp, smelling of mold. The metal was so cold it burned her hands. Her boots bumped on the ladder and sent booming echoes down below, while Mantis’ labored breaths from above were a counter-beat.

  She did not remember the ladder being long — she remembered it being endless, a path upward to the sky. Now it plunged into the darkness. The Netherhells, Kalaes had said. They were descending for a hellish machine made in the distant past, on a quest to set things right in their world.

  Greenish phosphorescence from below drew her attention. Glowing fungi growing on the walls of the vent.

  They should hurry, she thought. The vent lid overhead stood wide open, and their aircar was exposed — she hoped the camo sheet Mantis had brought along would hide it for a while, though any patrol happening by would not be fooled.

  Her body hummed with adrenaline and it was a struggle to keep from going faster. Slipping and falling to her death would not help anyone.

  Slow, painfully slow; one foot after the other, she led the way down the deep well, listening to her own breaths and letting her mind go blank.

  An air current whipped her legs, and she looked down. A platform she remembered well.

  “We found the elevator.” She stepped off the ladder and caught Mantis as he came after her.

  “Elevator?” he wheezed, wiping sweat from his eyes.

  “At last.” Sacmis thumped on the platform and pulled out her torch. She switched it on and a long beam of light pierced the gloom, moving around until it lit up the heavy elevator doors.

  They were covered in symbols, Hera saw for the first time. She walked over and ran her fingertips over them. Carved in the metal, they were curling and flowing, like the ones on the map that had led them through the tunnels.

  She pulled the lever and the doors creaked ponderously as they opened. “Time to go down all the way,” she said and stepped inside.

  Mantis and Sacmis followed, jerking when the elevator box rocked slightly.

  “Damn,” Mantis whispered.

  “Hold on to something,” Hera said, flashing her torch at the control panel and switching on the descent.

  “On to what?” Mantis had time to say before they plummeted into the earth. “Holy shit!”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Sacmis said wryly and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “Every single time.”

  Hera leaned against the wall of the box and turned off her torch to preserve the dakron battery. Mantis cursed softly as darkness settled over them once more. She could still see him, of course, not perfectly, but a gray outline showed her where he slumped at Sacmis’ side.

  “This thing is going... fast.” Mantis’ teeth rattled so loudly Hera could hear them. “How are we going to lift the machine so far up?”

  “A special elevator,” Hera said.

  “At least it looked like it.” Sacmis’ voice dropped.

  “Has to be. They would not have stored something without a way of lifting it to the surface.”

  “But the mechanism—”

  “We’ll make it work.” She did not need Sacmis’ doubts added to her own. Her nerves tingled.

  “And did you say you know how to operate one?” Mantis asked.

  Hera glared at Sacmis, daring her to deny it. “It’s a machine,” she said. “We’ll operate it.”

  “You mean you haven’t done it before?”

  The elevator groaned and jolted, metal screeching against metal. Hera barely managed to catch herself before she fell, but Sacmis and Mantis fell in a heap on the floor.

  The doors whirred open, the sound reverberating through the emptiness beyond.

  “Follow me,” Hera said as the memories rose like ghosts from the ground. “I know the way.”

  She ran through the dim tunnels, occasionally flashing her torch to symbols over tunnel entrances to check they were on the right path. Sacmis’ and Mantis’ torches threw white beams to the sides and sent long shadows dancing on the walls.

  Hera led them through a high-ceilinged pass
age — here was where Alendra had almost collapsed and Elei had helped her up — and raced down a narrow tunnel, ears pricked for any sound that did not belong.

  “Here.” She turned into another tunnel, and felt the movement in the air — a huge hall opened at its other end, and she ran toward it.

  Reaching the end, she stopped and switched her torch on.

  The war machine.

  It towered, black and shiny, tall like a building, its cannons polished as if it had just been assembled, as if the technicians had just popped over to the diner around the corner for a celebratory cup.

  “Holy pissing hells.” Mantis came to stand next to her and pushed his sweaty hair behind his ears. “This is incredible.”

  It sure was. Beautiful and terrible like a demon of the deep.

  Sacmis hurried down the steps and walked around the machine, her blond ponytail swishing across her back. “It’s sitting on a raised block of metal,” she called. “It has to be the elevator platform. See if you can find the control panel. I think we saw it in a niche in the wall somewhere.”

  “What does it look like?” Mantis set off along the wall, and Hera had to admire the rapidity with which he took everything in, got over his awe and made himself useful.

  Maybe she should stop being shocked every time he did something like that. He had a strong character — for a mortal, Regina added spitefully — and she should ask Kalaes about Mantis’ past when they got together again.

  For drinks, Kalaes had said. They’d meet for drinks. To celebrate victory.

  Focus, hatha. The war has not been won yet.

  “It’s a foot-long remote,” she said and started to walk the other way, running her hand along the frigid wall.

  “Black?”

  “Probably.” Everything in the hall was black, like a bad premonition.

  “With silver markings and handle?”

  Hera stopped and turned. “You found it.”

  “You doubted me?” Mantis bowed with a dramatic flourish. “You’re breaking my heart.”

  Hera’s mouth twitched. “Time to rise to the surface.”

  They climbed onto the smaller platform of the machine, its huge bulk dwarfing them.

  “Hold on to something,” Sacmis warned, taking the control from Mantis. “The ride will be rough.”

  “How will you open the dome above?” Mantis’ upturned face was set in tense lines.

  “I’ll press this,” Sacmis slid her fingertip over the silver markings of the control, sending a jolt through the platform, “and hope for the best.”

  The war machine shook as the platform began to rise, and they clung to it while the ground fell away. Like insects, Hera thought, taking a ride on a giant.

  “Hope for the best?” Mantis grated, pressing his face to the smooth metal side of the machine. “Really?”

  “Or I could press a symbol in a circle here,” Sacmis said smugly, “and see if a rocket from the cannon can clear the ceiling for us.”

  “If you do that, the ceiling will fall on our heads,” Mantis said, also moving closer to the machine. “You’re pulling my leg.”

  Sacmis snorted, holding onto the war machine one-handed, her other hand with the remote lifted in front of her face. “Maybe I am.”

  Mantis cursed.

  Then the point became moot because a panel slid aside overhead, revealing darkness, and they shot into it like a bullet sliding into the chamber of a well-oiled gun.

  It was a tunnel. Hera grinned, exhilaration making her blood sing. “Hold your guns!” she called to Sacmis.

  “They thought of everything, did they not?” Sacmis’ voice rang with an answering grin. “I bet food and drink is also on the way.”

  “Frigging hells,” Mantis muttered, his voice barely audible in the rushing air, “I honestly can’t see what’s so funny right now.”

  Then the tunnel narrowed.

  “Sacmis...” Hera pressed her body flush against the machine as the platform rose perilously close to a wall. “Both of you, be careful. Not much space here.”

  Higher they rose, so fast the air buffeted them and threatened to break their hold. Would the tunnel open at the top? Or would the machine shatter it and kill them?

  Breathe, hatha. They must have thought it through. If the mechanism still works. If it has not rusted and stuck.

  Shut up.

  Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes, then opened them to a hydraulic hiss that seemed to come from inside the war machine.

  Okay, what in Sobek’s name was happening?

  Sacmis was shouting something. Hera could not make out the words.

  “Inside.” Mantis tugged on Hera’s sleeve. “She says we should get inside.”

  Inside the war machine. Of course. It was probably designed to burst through the ground like a seed, and if they were inside, they might survive.

  “Climb,” she told Mantis and gestured at the protrusions on the side that had to be a ladder to the cockpit of the machine. “I’m right behind you.”

  “Damn Gultur,” Mantis muttered as he obeyed. “Afraid of nothing.”

  Not true, Hera wanted to say, but climbed after him. The machine was like a metal mountain, a watch-tower of old. Sacmis was climbing on the other side. She did something with the remote and panels hissed open overhead. The cockpit of the machine lit up.

  “Hurry!” Sacmis shouted and pointed up.

  Where the ceiling was fast approaching.

  Shit.

  Mantis scurried up faster and wriggled inside the cockpit. Praying they would fit, wondering for the first time how many people it took to operate the machine, Hera grabbed the rim of the opening and pulled herself inside, seeing Sacmis slither into the cockpit from the other side—

  —and with a terrible crash the panels dropped shut, hitting the backs of her boots. Sacmis yelled something but Hera could not hear her, her ears ringing too loud—

  A deafening explosion rocked them, throwing Hera to the floor.

  After a moment of darkness, she blinked. Mantis was sprawled across a seat and Sacmis was struggling to rise to all fours. Metal screeched and impacts rocked them, throwing Sacmis back down.

  The machine shook, vibrated harder, and broke through a resistant layer of something — the ground?

  Then it smashed back down, dashing Hera across the cockpit into the panel, and the lights went out.

  ***

  Voices roused Elei, and he automatically checked the gun at his belt, then Alendra. Her face was peaceful, and he swallowed hard. He stroked a thumb over her smooth, cool cheek. Why was she still unconscious?

  Please, wake up.

  A click and the door slid open. He blinked at Bestret, a dark silhouette against the light of Bone Tower that glimmered not a mile away.

  “Cuff him,” she said and the words made no sense, until Iset moved into view, holding up steel manacles.

  “What are you doing?” His brain struggled to make sense of it.

  “I’m sorry,” Iset said. “This is the only way to enter Bone Tower. Our codes do not work here, they’ve placed too many restrictions since you infected the temple fountain and since the recent upheavals.”

  “The only way — what way?” He inched back until his back hit the wall of the aircar. “What are you—”

  “We deliver you to them,” Iset said as if it he should have guessed. Maybe he should have. “The only way to get us into the temple.”

  “The temple.” He wished he could think clearly but his head hurt too much. “Why would they...?”

  “They’ll want to sacrifice you,” Bestret said.

  Sacrifice. Elei licked dry lips. “Why are you doing this? You said I’m your king.”

  “You are,” Iset said patiently. “And now you see why we need you. Not in the way you thought. Your willing surrender will honor Rex and save us all.”

  “Willing? You’ll hand me over to be killed.” The words sounded off in his ears, distant, as if someone else had spoken them.r />
  “Rex will not let you die, you must know this by now. They want you, have been looking for you desperately. When we deliver you, they’ll let us in. You’ll give us a chance to blow up the citadel and bring down the regime.”

  “What if you don’t make it? What if they kill me on the spot?”

  “They will not. The sacrifice will be a grand affair. You’re much too important for anything less, and this will give us time to act.”

  They’re mad, he thought, not for the first time. Rex bathed the two Gultur in blinding colors, red, orange, yellow, and the muscles in his legs and arms bunched up. “And if I don’t agree?”

  “You’ll agree for the sake of this world.”

  He shot forward and grabbed Iset by the throat, his jaw so tight it hurt. “No. I’m not immortal. This won’t work.” And I don’t want to die, not when it’s for nothing.

  “Be reasonable,” Bestret said, hand fisted around something. A gun? “This is bigger than you and me. Let her go.”

  Let her... Elei blinked, realized Iset’s feet were dangling off the ground, and damn his arm pissing hurt. He let her go and she fell to her knees, coughing.

  “If you help us, you’ll be protecting your girlfriend, and your brother. Is that not what you want?”

  “Damn you.” Red misted his vision. When Iset tried to clamp the shackles around his wrists, he pushed her off, then shoved her again and turned to grab Alendra. “How can you...?” Ask me, keep asking me to choose — between them and myself, between myself and the world.

  “I told you he would not come the easy way,” Bestret muttered and something stung his neck.

  He spun around but heaviness spread in his limbs, making him clumsy. He reached for his gun but Iset slapped his hand away from his belt and then he was falling.

  Dammit, he had the time to think before it all went black. Not... again.

  ***

  “Hera.” Sacmis’ voice came in faint echoes. A dream? The Gods knew Hera had had them over the years, secretly hoping Sacmis would come back to her.

  Had Sacmis come back to her?

  “Hera!” Hands grabbed her and lifted her. Sobek, her head pounded.