Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Chrystalla Thoma

  Hera drew a sharp breath. She staggered to the benches and sat down heavily. Sacmis took a seat next to her.

  “To Ert it is,” said the boatman, his voice rusty and sharp like an old blade. “We’re off.”

  The boat lurched, then accelerated. Elei stumbled sideways and steadied himself on one of the poles that supported the flapping tent. They shot away from the coast of Dakru. Shots rang from the shore, and bullets hit the water beside the boat. He knew he should lie low, not give them a target. His bitten arm throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the vise around his head.

  A bullet slammed into the boat near his feet, and he still didn’t move, until Alendra took his hand and guided him toward the benches. Kalaes stood there, looking back at Dakru, his dark eyes like chips of night.

  Sudden fury raced through Elei. It was as if all his fear and worry turned into a bright flame of anger inside his chest.

  “Damn you, Kal,” he muttered, marching over to Kalaes and shoving him backward. “What were you thinking?”

  Kalaes stumbled and caught himself on the starboard side. He made a choking noise in his throat and took a deep breath to say something, but he never got the chance. Elei drew back his fist and punched him in the stomach.

  Kalaes doubled over.

  “Elei!” Alendra held him back, her fingers clamped like steel bands around his biceps. “Stop it.”

  “Where did you go?” Elei demanded, shaking himself free, anger heating his neck. “We looked everywhere for you, almost didn’t make it, worried ourselves sick. You bastard!”

  Kalaes straightened slowly. He swallowed, the knot in his throat rising and falling. He looked away.

  “Won’t you say something?” Alendra’s voice was tight, a metal coil. “He’s right, you know. We went back almost all the way looking for you.” She cocked her head to the side. “And how the hells did you manage to get the police and the dogs after you?”

  Kalaes staggered to one of the benches and sank down. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “There was something I needed and it was my only damn chance to get if before we left.”

  Elei wiped a hand over his mouth and tasted blood. He’d bitten through his lip. “You could’ve told us.”

  “It was supposed to be a grab-and-go,” Kalaes muttered. “You wouldn’t even have noticed. But the damn owner started shouting, and a Gultur patrol passed by.” Kalaes snorted. “Just my luck.”

  Elei let himself down on the bench, breathing hard, and dropped his backpack to the deck.

  “What was it you needed so badly?” Hera asked.

  “Nothing important,” Kalaes said quietly, and that sent another stab of anger through Elei.

  “It was important enough for you to risk all our lives,” he said.

  Kalaes looked stricken. “I told you, it wasn’t meant to be like that.” He stared down at his hands.

  “Then tell us. Are you sick? Was it medicine you needed?”

  “Yes, it’s medicine, and I’m fine,” Kalaes said.

  “Fine?” Elei shook his head. “You passed out in the aircar!”

  Kalaes winced. “I have it under control. I didn’t mean to worry you to death.”

  Elei’s anger faded. “I thought,” he ground out, “that was what family does.”

  “Worrying to death?” Kalaes’ teeth flashed in a quick, crooked smile.

  “Yeah. Among other things,” Elei was suddenly on unfamiliar ground. “I’m sure.”

  Kalaes looked up then, his smile widening, and he reached out to ruffle Elei’s hair.

  Elei ducked half-heartedly. “So you’ll be okay now?”

  Kalaes’ gaze slid sideways at Hera who was watching him intently. “Yeah, I’ll be just fine.”

  “Next time,” Elei said, “tell me when you’re about to take off like that. When you need help. Okay?”

  Kalaes raised a hand, fingers pressed together, and intoned solemnly, “I swear.”

  “Good. Now...” Elei winced, brought his hand to his forearm. His fingers came away streaked with blood.

  “Hells. Damn dog got you good.” Kalaes leaned forward, his mouth compressed in a narrow line, and he pulled his backpack onto his lap. “We need to clean and bandage you.” He fished out a medic-kit.

  “I’ll do it,” Alendra said, reaching for the kit. “Give it here.”

  Kalaes handed the black box over and watched as Elei held the mangled sleeve of his shirt and let Alendra clean the jagged wound.

  “I’d worry about rabies,” Hera said, her eyes scanning the coast of Dakru as it receded, “but I’m sure even rabies is scared of Rex.”

  Sacmis grinned, and it was startling on her usually grim face. The rain of bullets had stopped, and they were all relaxing by degrees.

  Well, all except Hera. The line of her shoulders remained tense, and her jaw was clenched so hard it had to hurt.

  “Why do you think the fleet isn’t flying over us now, trying to sink us?” Elei asked as Alendra wound a bandage around his arm. The pink tip of her tongue stuck out between her teeth, and he blinked, momentarily distracted.

  “Mantis. He said he’d lead them away from us.”

  Alendra went white. “So they’re killing others to let us live.”

  “Life is like that.” Sacmis scowled. “We are born out of the death of others. We have to survive, even if others die for it.”

  “What an awful thing to say.” Alendra tied off the bandage and sat back. “And it doesn’t make it any better.”

  “Nothing can make it better,” Sacmis muttered, her eyes looking black in the near-darkness, broken only by the setting moon. “Our mission is important. If we make it, we’ll save many lives.”

  “Sounds so self-righteous,” Elei mumbled, his head heavy. “Like the gods chose us for this.” He leaned back against one of the tent supports and closed his eyes. Their fleeing and worrying, all that exhaustion finally caught him in one massive blow.

  “I thought we volunteered,” Kalaes said. “You know, to die saving the damn world or something like that.”

  “You never take anything seriously, do you?” Hera snapped.

  “Why,” Kalaes said, and Elei could hear the smirk in his voice, “you hurt my feelings.”

  “You have to have feelings for those to be hurt.” Hera’s voice cracked like a whip.

  “Whatever, Hera.” Kalaes said, his tone sharpening. “You being the expert on feelings and all.”

  There was the sound of a scuffle, and a sharp inhale.

  “Ow,” Kalaes said mildly. “Dammit, Hera. I liked this t-shirt.”

  “Hera,” Sacmis said, “calm down.”

  Elei pried his eyes open with an effort, wondering what was going on, but he only saw Kalaes and Hera glaring at each other. “What is it?” he mumbled.

  “Sleep, fe,” Kalaes patted Elei’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine.”

  Hera struggled in Sacmis’ hold. Her eyes flashed, dark jewels, and her long hair flew in the salty breeze. Elei knew he should ask why Hera was acting like that. Somewhere at the back of his mind he remembered Regina. Hadn’t Hera said her parasite was maturing?

  But Kalaes was there. He’d watch Elei’s back. It was safe.

  And in spite of the rocking boat, Hera’s glare and the possibility of the fleet rising out of the blue to riddle them with bullets, Elei nodded, reassured, and sank into the darkness.

  ***

  Kill him. Kill them all. Worse than insects crawling on your skin, worse than vermin. Hera tried to draw her longgun from its hip holster, but something held her fast, restraining her movements. Nothing can stop you. Take them out.

  Yet she could not reach her gun, and the sweet scent of fellow Gultur enveloped her, calming her. She bit her lip hard, letting the pain center her and chase away the screeching voice from her head.

  Sacmis held her.

  Kalaes watched her warily, brows drawn together. The neckline of his t-shirt was ripped, revealing an array of bruises and scars.

 
He zipped up his hoodie and turned his gaze away.

  Why was Regina reacting to him even worse than to Elei’s Rex? It made no sense. He teased her a lot, for sure, and yet... He was a mortal male, useless and bothersome as far as Regina was concerned, pitifully weak, not evolved like the Gultur, and not needed for reproduction. All good reasons, but she managed to keep from hurting Elei and Alendra, neither of whom Regina particularly liked for the same reasons.

  “Hera?” A voice behind her. Strained. Scared. The arms around her tightened, and a rapid rhythm beat against her back — Sacmis’ heart.

  Hera took a deep breath and forced herself to go limp, relaxing in the gentle hold. “It’s okay. You can let go now.”

  Sacmis hesitated, then released her, and Hera slumped on the bench, feeling the rocking of the boat as it sped through the waves. Horror was trying to break through the cold mantle of numbness that had fallen over her. Her body and mind were out of her control. Sacmis. Sacmis had held her back, as Hera had asked. Maybe she could trust her after all; maybe everything would be all right.

  But the image of Kalaes’ ripped t-shirt, his scared gaze kept replaying in her memory. Holy Nunet, how long before Regina took over completely?

  ***

  Elei slept, and a landscape emerged from the darkness, rising around him.

  He sat on a low bench looking at the vast, heaving sea, listening to the waves crash on the cliffs below. He was in the trashlands of Ost, he knew, and didn’t wonder how he’d arrived there. Heaps of rubbish surrounded him, familiar as the rooms in one’s own home, but something was missing — the stench. The air smelled clean, with a tang of sea breeze and the perfume of a woman, fine musk laced with sugar.

  A shadow walked on the cliff’s edge, outlined in golden light, a female form made of curves and hollows. She approached, hips swinging in a slow rhythm he could almost hear, her hair a fine mist around her face. Her eyes were cat-like, yellow and bright, her skin shimmering, the arch of her throat fine and white. She was so beautiful Elei’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Alendra,” he whispered. She was close, so close her scent curled around him tight, and he reached out to touch her, his blood burning with desire.

  But she stopped and pulled a gun from her belt, long fingers caressing the barrel. She pointed it at his chest. “This won’t hurt,” she said, her voice a low hum, raising goosebumps on his skin. “I promise.”

  “Why now?” he asked, confused. “You can do it later.” They had time, didn’t they?

  “You don’t know what later can bring,” she said. She gestured with her free hand at the sky and it swarmed with aircraft. They didn’t move, but they blinked like watchful eyes.

  “All right then. You should kill me before they do.” So nice of her to think of that. But something else bothered him. “How can I kiss you if you kill me now?”

  She laughed, a tinkle of glass. “Better if you don’t kiss me, better this way. What you don’t try won’t hurt you, don’t you see?”

  He shook his head, still reaching for her. Her lips looked so soft, softer than sleep. “I want to try. With you. Just one kiss.”

  Her eyes glittered like gems. “One kiss and then what?”

  “Then...” Was there anything else after a kiss? Wasn’t that the end of the road, the end of the world? “What then?”

  “You get hurt,” she said and squinted, taking aim, “and then you’ll wish you were dead. So I’ll save you the pain and make it quick.”

  Fear filled his stomach like acid, because kissing her was a need that burned in the marrow of his bones. “No, Alendra, wait!”

  Unheeding, she smiled and pulled the trigger. “You’ll thank me later,” she whispered as the bullet flew true and slammed into his chest.

  “No!” He jerked and shuddered, tried to shift away from the pain he knew would come but couldn’t move, his limbs like stones, meant to drag him down, down deep. “Alendra!” Please don’t.

  “I’m here,” she said, very close to his ear. “Calm down.”

  His blood pounding in his head, he opened his eyes and saw her small face framed in darkness. “Alendra?” he whispered.

  A slight weight on his shoulder turned out to be her hand, holding him securely. He sat up, a crick in his neck where he had propped himself against the tent pole. His arm throbbed beneath the bandage. He drew a shaky breath, but found he didn’t know what to say.

  The boat bumped against the waves, its engine whirring softly, and a cold breeze sliced through his hoodie. Her hand was the only spot of warmth in the world.

  She withdrew it, and her lips curled in a rueful smile. “I thought...” She laughed softly. “I thought you were having a nightmare. Sorry.”

  “No, don’t be.” He stumbled over the words, missing her hand on his shoulder, but not knowing how to get it back. “I was. Having a nightmare, that is.”

  “Were you?” She looked down at her lap. “You were calling out my name. Was I some kind of monster in your dream?”

  Still tangled in the sticky webs of sleep, he struggled to separate dream from waking. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  He glanced around, trying to ground himself in what was real. Kalaes slept, lying on his side on the bench across from them. Sacmis slept sitting, her sandy head propped on Hera’s shoulder. Fast asleep, Hera had an arm around Sacmis, head tipped back against the other pole. The boatman stood behind the wheel, a dark shape cut from the night.

  What had the dream been trying to tell him?

  “Were you keeping watch?” he asked Alendra, unable to answer his own thoughts.

  “I was.” She gave that tiny smile again and he ached with the desire to cup her face and touch her uptilted lips. She was like daylight, bright and warm.

  Just listen to yourself. Kalaes had said it: he hardly knew her.

  Then again, she’d walked with him in the face of danger, held his hand and stayed with him when she could’ve fled. How much more did one need to claim they knew someone? Was it time that mattered or what one did with every passing moment? Did she need him like he needed her? Could he ever ask her that?

  “Sleep,” he said with a sigh. “My turn to keep watch.”

  “No, it’s okay,” she muttered. “I can’t sleep. Strung too high, I guess.”

  Again he longed to reach out and stroke her face. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me back at the safe house, when I was sick?” No sooner had the words left his mouth than he stopped, horrified. “Oh, shit. Forget I asked. Just forget it.”

  She glanced up, a sad look on her face. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay.” He swallowed hard. What had come over him, dammit?

  “Elei...” She drew a knee up to her chest and laced her arms around it. She rested her chin on top and half-closed her eyes. The night was dark, the moon had set, but he could see her as if it was day — every detail from her smooth cheeks to her arched brows. “I never apologized for the way I treated you before.”

  He realized he was gaping and forced his mouth shut.

  “I know Hera told you about the telmion plague that took away my family. You said you understood, but it still doesn’t excuse...” She puffed out a soft breath and rubbed her chin on her knee like a cat. “I had no right to treat you badly, especially when you were down and hurt.”

  He realized he’d forgotten how to breathe, and he gulped in a lungful of air.

  “It’s just that I hadn’t seen snakeskin on anyone since the plague,” Alendra continued. “Or on anyone not dying horribly. I was afraid I’d watch you die. Watch all of us die.”

  Elei nodded. He wanted to take her hand and squeeze it, to tell her nobody would die — but it’d be a lie, with the five of them on this crazy mission. And besides... Her voice from his dream came back, saying, ‘One kiss and then what?’ and he knew that, deep inside, it wasn’t just the kiss he was worried about. It was every little gesture she allowed him — sitting close to her, her hand on his shoulder, her gaze on him — all
he now took for granted, all she could so easily take away again. That would hurt him a hundred times more, now that he had hope.

  ‘You’ll thank me later,’ she’d said in the dream, right before she’d killed him. With a sigh, he leaned back, drifting off among shards of dreams and whispered words.

  A hand shook him, shattering the images and sounds. “Elei,” Alendra said, her voice rising in excitement. “Look.”

  He sat up. Spires loomed across the sea, silvery buildings swathed in haze. The gray pre-dawn dressed them in ghostly splendor. He gripped the edge of the bench, excitement and apprehension twisting his stomach.

  Across from him, Kalaes stirred, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. “The island of Ert,” he breathed, brows lifting. “Producer of small industry, seat of the Helike Monastery, nearly as poor as Ost, though damn better looking. Never thought I’d see it with my own eyes.”

  Elei sucked a deep breath. Neither did I.

  Chapter Eleven

  The coast of Ert rose in a jagged line of scraggy cliffs where seagulls squawked and falcons whistled. The sea boomed between the rocks, and a beacon flashed in the north.

  The boatman circumvented a cape and drove into an open bay. He dropped them off at a deserted pier just as yellow dawn burst in ribbons over the mountaintops of Ker Island across the strait.

  Shouldering their backpacks, they hurried down the pier toward the few warehouses lining the shore road, while the boat swerved and shot out toward Ker. The whine of its engine rang too loud, shattering the silence of the island.

  Hera led the way, looking confident, Sacmis by her side. Kalaes followed, Alendra matching his pace. Elei hurried after them, last of their group. Guilt nibbled at his consciousness. He’d punched Kalaes. What had gotten into him?

  The other boy looked relaxed, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his eyes clear and focused. Something in Elei’s chest unclenched and he drew a deep breath. Kalaes seemed just fine. Whatever medicine he’d stolen had obviously done him good.