Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Chrystalla Thoma

  They darted between aircars, weaved their way through a crowd jostling outside a water-vendor’s shop, then jumped behind a telespeak cabin when the hum of drones filled the air. They descended from the sky like locusts, blocking their way.

  “Oh shit.” Kalaes looked up. “Damn machines and their pissing owners.”

  Elei shoved Alendra behind him as Kalaes peeked around the corner. “Can you see any? Have they landed?”

  “I see one.” Kalaes backed a little, bumping into Elei. “Hells, I don’t think we can outrun drones.”

  “Can they pick up life forms?” Elei asked. “You know, heat sources, infrared radiation?”

  “They can,” Alendra said.

  Elei’s mind churned. “See that street there? That’s the way the street kids went. I bet they’re waiting for us. Go as soon as I lead the drone away.”

  “What? Elei, no, dammit.” Kalaes reached out for him, dark brows knotting, but Elei twisted aside.

  “Elei!” Alendra’s hands found his wrists and gripped hard. “We go together or not at all.”

  “Well,” Elei said, “I don’t agree.”

  Bullets smashed into the cabin, shattering the panes.

  “I’ll see you later.” He tore free and ran. Rex kicked the insides of his skull and drummed on the back of his possessed eye. The street dissolved into flashing colors and the familiarity of it was almost soothing. Almost. His heart pounded, and each running step sent a shock up his spine.

  He skidded to a halt as the drone loomed before him, the size of a small aircar, gray and diamond-shaped. The canons mounted on either side were rotating, preparing to shoot.

  A glance around showed him an infopole. With a leap, he found himself behind it, plastered to the narrow pillar, as bullets zipped around, one of them nicking his calf. The infopole shuddered under the multiple impacts, vibrated and shook. If it fell, that was the end. Elei checked for any other cover, but another volley of bullets forced him to straighten, hold his breath and hope the ammo ran out.

  The shooting stopped and the engines of the drone whirred harder. Elei peered around the edge and saw the drone turn, its cannons rotating once more, aimed at a heap of dumpsters on a street corner. Someone stood there, hood pulled low over their face. A lock of blond hair escaped and blew with the wind.

  Alendra.

  Cursing, Elei swung out of his cover and raced toward her. What was she doing? He’d told them to move out, told them to leave.

  The drone halted, turned once more. Another figure slouched against a shop window, broad-shouldered and without a hood, spiky hair standing up. Kalaes.

  Elei’s breath left his lungs. They’d both stayed. An odd pain twisted inside his chest, and his lips quirked.

  Then the drone began shooting, and Elei’s blood froze. He launched himself at it, yelling, “Here! Here!”

  He covered the few feet separating him from the machine and jumped, grabbing the drone’s edge and swinging on top of it. He swayed as the drone shifted, alarms blaring. At least it’d stopped shooting at Kalaes, who was now nowhere to be seen.

  The drone turned. Elei wondered for a moment if the systems could sense him, but another lurch threw him backward, and he smashed his hand into the steel surface of the drone to keep from rolling off. Blinding pain went up his arm, but he managed to sit and wiggled his fingers. Not broken. Thank the gods for small mercies.

  He crawled to one side, hoping to find the fuel tank or reactor engine. But when he lifted his head, he stilled, his breath hissing between his lips.

  More drones flew down the avenue at him.

  Bullets hit the street, and he heard two voices call his name. Pulse racing, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, he half-fell, half-scrambled down to the drone’s short wing and seized hold of the cannon. He pulled. The muscles burned in his shoulders and chest as he strained and heaved.

  The cannon broke with a loud crack. The whole panel came off, and Elei sprawled back on the wing, cradling the heavy gun.

  More bullets zipped, one dangerously close to his leg, and he sat up, groaning. The drone lurched and swiveled. No time left. Elei turned the cannon toward the other drones. He found the mechanism, activated the rotating clip and pulled the trigger lever.

  The cannon jumped in his hands, spewing large cartridges, and he steadied it against his leg as he fired on the oncoming drones.

  “Elei, come down,” Kalaes was shouting. “You’re a target!”

  Elei ignored him, loosing another round which sent the closest drone into a spin, and the one after crashing into it. It exploded with a deafening bang. Roaring flames jumped high in the air and a rain of burning shrapnel fell all around. It was strangely beautiful, bits of fire flying, like falling stars.

  “Elei, dammit, come on down!” Kalaes yelled.

  Ducking a piece of flaming metal, Elei threw himself sideways. The cannon hit the wing and fell from his hands. He followed it, sliding down the side of the drone. He dropped ten feet to the ground and fell next to the broken remains of the cannon.

  Hands grabbed him, lifting him to his feet. “Come on,” Kalaes said, “hurry.”

  “Where’s Alendra?” Elei ground out.

  “She’s fine.” Kalaes dragged him toward one of the side streets.

  “You shouldn’t have stayed. I told you to go. You could’ve been killed.”

  “And so could you.” Kalaes’ glare could melt metal as he hauled Elei, none too gently, toward the safety of one of the narrowest streets Elei had ever seen — surely drones couldn’t pass through it — and shoved him forward. “If anyone should’ve stayed behind, that was me.”

  “And why’s that?” Elei felt mutinous.

  “I’m your older brother,” Kalaes retorted, “and you should obey me.”

  Elei snorted, even as small hands gripped him and turned him around.

  “What were you thinking?” Alendra hissed, her glare a match for Kalaes’. “Trying to kill yourself?”

  “I...” The words fled. Staring into her furious eyes, Elei struggled to remember to breathe. Their faces were so close he felt the warmth of her flushed cheeks and smelled her fresh scent. “I wasn’t.”

  Alendra let him go with a huff. “Good,” was all she said and stalked along the alley. “Come on, both of you, before we’re bombed from above. The kids are waiting.”

  Elei had to force his limbs to unlock, his feet to move.

  Kalaes punched his shoulder lightly in passing. “She likes you, fe, didn’t I tell ya?” he drawled. “She cares if you live or die. That’s always a good sign.”

  Elei closed his gaping mouth and jogged after him. “She avoided me the whole time we were at the safe house.”

  “Not the point.” Kalaes waved a hand. “Just be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Kalaes hurried toward a group of four small children and Alendra standing with her hands on her hips, waiting for them, “hearts are easily broken.”

  Elei glanced around at the streets they passed by. The hum of the drones was disconcertingly close. “I know she’s had a hard time with everyone dying on her. I wasn’t going to—”

  “Hells, fe.” Kalaes didn’t look at him. “You’re my brother. I barely know her. I was talking about you.”

  ***

  The tang of salt and rotten seaweed was closer now. They moved through the maze of narrow streets, slipping into the shadows whenever they heard the drones or the seleukids overhead. In those moments, passers-by raised their faces to the sky and muttered prayers and curses as they hurried away, barely sparing their little group or the scurrying street children any notice.

  Elei felt suddenly happy he’d grown up in the trashlands of Ost with minimum Gultur presence. He wondered what it was like to live every day under scrutiny.

  “They’re moving,” Alendra said, pointing at the kids. They’d stopped to talk to a beggar at a street corner, but now they skittered along, throwing urgent looks behind them.

/>   “After them,” Kalaes said.

  They followed the children, passing small shops faintly lit from the inside. Customers slid in and out of the half-open doors, clutching their purchases to their chests. Unlike on Ost, or even in Artemisia and Aerica where everyone seemed dressed in gray and black, the people here wore brightly colored items which gave them an unexpected air of festivity. They sported pink scarves and orange hats, red gloves or yellow shoes, some even going as far as to wrap themselves in deep purple coats or light blue capes and carry bright yellow umbrellas.

  “It’s normal on this coast and the western islands,” Alendra whispered when she caught him staring. “The colors. I used to dress like that. Asine isn’t far from here.”

  He imagined her wearing a pink scarf and had to smile.

  “What is it?” she whispered, her eyes coppery in the faint light from a flickering street lamp. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Just thought of something,” he hedged.

  “What?”

  An aircar zoomed by, honking at an old woman who crossed the street with small, tottering steps.

  “How things could’ve been,” he said. “If we were at peace.” If you were carefree and carried a yellow umbrella instead of a gun, a smile instead of a frown.

  “We will be,” she said, her voice ringing with conviction, “again. You’ll see.”

  Surprised, he turned to have a better look at her face. Knowing about her past, he hadn’t expected her to be so hopeful.

  Wait... Elei glanced around. “Where’s Kalaes?”

  Alendra slowed, tugging on the straps of her backpack. “What do you mean? He was right behind me.” She turned, eyes widening as she scanned the street. “Where in the hells is he?”

  Elei wheeled around. Flashes of Kalaes unconscious in the aircar tore into his mind like shrapnel. “Maybe he’s hurt.”

  “Wait.” Alendra half-ran, half-skipped to keep up with him as he doubled back, retracing their steps along the street and through a filthy alley. “We’ll lose the kids! How are we going to find our way—”

  “I don’t care. No way in the five hells am I leaving him behind,” Elei snapped and she flinched. “I’m worried about him,” he tried to explain, his breath rattling in his chest, his tainted eye throbbing and lighting the world in neon hues. He realized he expected to find Kalaes slumped in a doorway or ever worse, lying face down in the street, not moving. “It’s just that he hasn’t been well. He refuses to tell me what’s wrong, but...”

  She nodded and scurried along, her small face determined. “We’ll find him.”

  And in spite of the gloom settling over him like a suffocating cloud, he felt his stomach unclench a little.

  They searched in every nook and cranny, huddling behind dumpsters as the air crackled with the passing of aircraft, slipping in and out of shadows, skirting the pools of yellow light cast by the few street lamps. But there was no sign of any broad-shouldered, messy-haired boy. The unease returned. He finally stopped and leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, pressing a hand to the stitch in his side.

  Alendra huddled close to him, closing her eyes, and for the first time in perhaps ever, he didn’t care, didn’t feel like he was freezing and catching fire at the same time at her proximity. He felt wrung out and limp, empty and lost.

  Afraid.

  “We have to rejoin the others,” he said, amazed his voice sounded so steady, as if it didn’t belong to him. “Maybe he’ll find us.”

  Alendra opened her eyes and gave him a long look. She nodded. “Maybe,” she said, “he was ahead of us all along.”

  Elei didn’t bother replying. They both knew that wasn’t possible, that they’d been right behind the street children, and Kalaes didn’t know where they were going.

  They turned around and headed roughly in the direction they had come from, silent. Elei felt as if he wore leaden boots. At one point, Alendra grabbed his arm and hauled him under a fire escape, shouting something about drones, and he let her, dazed.

  The worry gnawed viciously at his insides. He shook the numbness off, realizing he might get Alendra killed if he didn’t, and set his feet in the right direction. A child waved at them from a dark spot behind a water pump and they followed her.

  Then, all chaos broke loose. Loud barking tore through the air and shouting — a Gultur patrol jogged by, four guards, shields and guns at the ready.

  Elei shared a wild look with Alendra. “Come,” she said, “we have to run.”

  But something held him back, even as molosse dogs appeared, sniffing and growling, led by two Gultur. He pushed Alendra into a dark gateway.

  Alendra shrank back against the house door. “Elei...”

  He glanced at her white face. What was wrong with him? She was right, there was no reason to linger. “Let’s go,” he said and reached out for her hand, clasping her fingers, thin like a child’s but strong and capable of holding a gun or a knife. He squeezed them as he led her out of the gateway and down the street.

  The barking behind them faded for a moment, then came back louder. By unspoken agreement, they started to run. They raced into an avenue, turned left and stumbled past shops that were closing, their lights going out.

  “This way,” Alendra panted, jerking on Elei’s hand.

  The barking grew louder, closer. Ahead of them, two children materialized out of the gloom and gestured for them to follow. Gasping, they ran, kids poking their heads out of the shadows of alleys and side streets to urge them along and show the way.

  They burst into a yard, square and walled, with an iron gate beyond which towered storehouses. The crash of waves was loud.

  “Where to now?” Elei muttered. Where were the children? Had they taken a wrong turn?

  Alendra pulled her hand out of his hold and staggered toward the gate, her boots scuffing on the rough cement floor. “I think...” She gripped the bars of the gate. “I can see the children over there. We’ll fit through.”

  “Are you sure?” He flinched when a dog barked outside in the street. So close.

  “Sideways probably.” She poked at the gate. It creaked.

  “Okay.” But he still didn’t move. He heard running steps from the street, and someone gasping, and he thought he smelled, mixed with the eye-watering stench of molosse dog, a familiar mist of ama cigarettes and musk.

  Elei stepped backward, vaguely aware of Alendra hissing his name in alarm, and pressed himself near the exit to the street. Moments later, someone came pelting down, boots slamming on the asphalt. A face shone white in the darkness, and Elei reached out, yanking on the man’s arm.

  The man yelped, struggled, then the dog was on them and they crashed down in a tangle of arms, legs and sharp teeth. Elei found himself under the dog. Frantically he pushed off the straps of his heavy backpack and swung it at the beast’s muzzle. The dog moved back, then returned, snarling over Elei. He threw up an arm to protect his face as he fumbled at his belt for the Rasmus, and teeth clamped onto his flesh. He cried out at the pain, his sight fading for a moment.

  “Kalaes,” he whispered, his pulse in his throat.

  “Elei?” Kalaes swore from somewhere on Elei’s right, and did something that freed Elei’s arm from the dog’s teeth. “Damn it, fe.”

  “Stand back,” Alendra said, taking aim.

  Kalaes pulled Elei back as the dog growled so deeply the fine hairs on Elei’s arms stood up.

  A deafening shot rang, and Elei saw the molosse dog sprawl in a pool of blood, a hole in its massive head.

  Barking sounded from the street, and Alendra paled.

  “Let’s go!” She grabbed Elei’s uninjured arm and started running without waiting for an answer.

  “Kal,” Elei muttered, trying to see over his shoulder as they went.

  “I’m right here.” Kalaes was on their heels, his submachine gun drawn. “Keep running.”

  The gate loomed over them, rusty iron bars and padlocks. Hera called his name from the other side.

&n
bsp; “Here.” Alendra gestured at a couple of bars that had been twisted and broken. “Quickly.”

  He followed her through, hot blood trickling down his arm, dripping off his fingers. “Kal, come on.”

  Kalaes shimmied through, the bars scraping his shoulders. Barely on time, too, as two molosse dogs launched themselves at the gate, snapping and barking.

  “Damn, let’s move!” Hera pulled Alendra toward a tall, dark building by the wharf. Kalaes gave the massive dogs a disgusted look, then started when a bullet hit the gate.

  “Frigid hells.” He gestured with his gun. “After you, fe.”

  Elei didn’t need an invitation. He ran.

  Chapter Ten

  The boat waited for them as Mantis had promised — long and broad, with a tall prow to cut through the waves and a blue tent stretching over two benches. A boatman stood at the stern, still as a statue, gazing at them from under his cap as they descended the slippery, concrete steps. Elei gazed back at him, reminded of the night he’d fled from Ost in such a boat, the night Pelia died.

  Mantis stood on the wharf, arms folded over his chest. His fair hair whipped in the icy wind. “Mech here will take you to Ert,” he said against a clamor of barking, shouts and gunfire. “If you make it out of Dakru fast enough, that is.”

  “Run, Mantis.” Hera had drawn her longgun and held it loosely at her side. “They’re almost here.”

  “Don’t worry.” He flashed her a brilliant smile. “My army will distract them.”

  “Army. You mean the little children?” Hera asked, voice clipped. “You should not lead them into such danger.”

  “We do what we have to do,” Mantis said without heat. “For peace.” He raised his hand as the boat engine revved. “I’ll be waiting for your good news, a cache of weapons or vehicles on Dakru we can access, so we can end this war.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. “I have to go. Tefnut sends her love.” Turning about, he headed for the shadows of the empty building.