Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Chrystalla Thoma

  Not too far off the mark, Elei thought. He didn’t want any more adventure, could live perfectly well without it.

  “Listen to me, Mantis.” Color touched Hera’s cheekbones. “We were followed underground on Ert Island. Word may have reached the regime about what lies below. Time is short, and I think you need our help.”

  Oh, gods. Elei swallowed a groan. “You’ll help by translating the document,” he said. “You will...” His thoughts were meshing into one messy knot and he couldn’t find an end to it. Hera would go back into battle, and Sacmis would follow, then Alendra and Kalaes, and... No. He turned to Mantis. “If you need one of us by your side for anything, I’ll do it. Leave them out of this.”

  “You’re a selfish bastard, aren’t you?” Kalaes nudged him with his elbow, the blue eye that Rex controlled glinting with a mixture of amusement, anger and affection. “Where my brother goes, I go. Deal with that.”

  And why hadn’t he foreseen that?

  “He’s not going anywhere without me,” Alendra said and stood on Elei’s other side, golden gaze mutinous.

  Mantis grinned. Hera was blinking owlishly, her expression set off by Sacmis’ smirk.

  Elei choked on a knot in his throat.

  Mantis shook his head, his lips twitching. “You guys are something. But you won’t be any good to me as you are. A blind man could see you’re about to fall over.”

  “Yeah, because you look so rested and all,” Kalaes drawled.

  Mantis laughed. “Fine. Truth is, I wish I could refuse your offer, but we need all the help we can get.” He sobered. “There’s a town just west from Abydos, Istros, where we’ve set up a field hospital. We control the area. You’ll go there now, concentrate on regaining your strength. I’ll check out the cache and the data rod you’ve given me, see what I find out.”

  “Are they your people at the hospital?” Hera asked. “Do you trust them?”

  It was a fair question. Who was to be trusted in the resistance?

  “Yes, they are my people.” Mantis nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s safe. You’ve got two days. Then I’ll call you back.”

  Two days. “You sound like you have a plan,” Elei said.

  “Maybe so. Let’s just say that you arrived at a good moment with those war machines. We want the regime’s attention here, far from their capital.”

  “This will be a diversion?” Sacmis whispered.

  Mantis grinned.

  “You’ll hit Dakru City from the south?” Hera asked.

  He nodded. “The plan goes into motion as soon as we figure out how to get the war machines above ground, and how to operate them. You don’t happen to know?”

  “Perhaps.” Hera exchanged a look with Sacmis. “And there’s a freight lift inside the cache. If it’s still in working order.”

  “Good. I also need people familiar with the south, particularly Artemisia and the area around,” Mantis said. “To organize that front.”

  “I grew up in Artemisia,” Kalaes said. “I’ll do it.”

  “I know the area,” Alendra said.

  And just like that, it was decided. “At least this time it will be different,” Elei mumbled.

  “What’s that, fe?” Kalaes frowned.

  “We won’t be running away,” Elei said. “We’ll fight.”

  Mantis tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Yes, we fight. If we manage to lift out the war machines, if this electric force fields around the islands can work, if the map’s right and there’s so much down there we can use...” He spread his arms. “Then, my friends, we’ll make it happen.”

  “And then what?” Kalaes narrowed his gaze. “You’ll become the next head of government of the Seven Islands?”

  “Actually...” Mantis cocked his head to the side, gave Kalaes a thoughtful look. “I was thinking Hera would be more suitable for that task.”

  He winked, and sauntered out.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The short drive to Istros was a blur. Mantis had given them an aircar and instructions, said his people would be waiting for them. He said it’d be safe.

  Elei would take safe. He’d take quiet. He’d give his right arm for a bed.

  Istros was an unassuming place, with low buildings and dusty streets. At first it seemed abandoned. A line of storehouses greeted them. A man stepped out and raised his hand.

  “Welcome to Istros,” he said when they stepped off the aircar. “Come inside.”

  The storehouses were connected, high spaces that reminded Elei of the hive they’d found underground. Light entered from small windows set high in the walls. Beds had been set up, and many of them were occupied. War victims?

  A gray-haired woman looked up from where she attended a patient and hurried toward them, smiling. “Mantis said you’d be coming.”

  Safe, Mantis had said, safe, and Rex relaxed its hold. Exhaustion crashed on Elei and he staggered. She caught him, guiding him toward the row of beds.

  “Come,” she said, “let’s get you settled.”

  “Take care of the others,” he slurred. “Parasites. Regina, palantin. Careful with the medicine.”

  The woman hummed in affirmation. “I can see that, son.”

  Then they reached an empty mattress, and he fell on it face-first, quickly going under.

  He returned to consciousness on his back, with sheets and blankets pulled up to his chest, listening to a man’s voice. Was it the man from before? There was the sting of an IV in his hand. The man was saying something about Rex and telmion reaching a balance, a bonding stage. That was fine with Elei. Maybe it meant he wouldn’t go after Hera again.

  Cat jumped on the bed, meowing, and Elei patted the small head, scratched behind the ears. He looked for the others. They were tucked in narrow beds further down the hall. “How are they?” he whispered.

  “They’ll be just fine.” The doctor leaned closer. “We’re treating a couple of minor infections, and we’ve given them a mild sedative to help them rest.”

  Elei fell back, closing his eyes. The doctor chattered on about the dangers of dehydration and starvation, his voice lulling Elei back to sleep.

  He dreamed. Of running in the dark, falling deep, losing grip. He saw the others drowning in the depths of the sea. Shot by the Gultur. Dying in pools of blood. He surfaced with a cold lump of dread in his stomach, already reaching for his gun. He checked the room but everything seemed peaceful.

  The others slept on, Kalaes tangled in his IV line, Hera and Sacmis still as statues, Alendra wrapped in her sheets. He sat in his bed and gazed on her relaxed face and her hair that gleamed silver in the light.

  “Your friend,” said the doctor, coming to sit beside him on the bed, “is doing better.”

  Elei blinked. “Who?”

  The doctor nodded at Hera. “The Gultur girl. We searched the records, found a medicine to alleviate the side effects of Regina’s maturation. She’ll be fine.”

  Elei pressed his trembling lips together and nodded. The doctor smiled, patted his back and left.

  Fine. Would she be fine? They were going to fight in the war, with guns and war machines and bombs and cannons. Elei turned the thought around, rolled it, felt its edges. Remembered the images from his dreams and felt sick. When would it be over?

  He looked up. A grainy black and white feed from an old screen mounted on the wall showed military maneuvers and seleukids flying in formation. A Gultur woman, shoulders covered in medals, talked to the camera. Behind her rose the mountains of Dakru. Beneath them was an ancient library nobody had laid eyes on since the islands surfaced. There were people down below, asleep in gigantic hives, and there were gardens with strange animals and technology unlike any he’d ever seen.

  And above ground, there was war.

  Lying down, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine the future, but all he saw was blood.

  ***

  It was their last night together. Come morning, Hera and Sacmis would join Mantis in Abydos, while Elei, Kalaes and
Alendra would travel to Artemisia.

  But tonight they’d go for drinks at the only bar in town. Kalaes’ idea, of course. He’d insisted, ever since they’d woken up in the late afternoon, that they couldn’t leave without having a night out.

  Elei glanced around the common room of the field hospital, with its long table and old chairs, the one window opening over the yard where sparrows hopped. It was... quiet, apart from a couple of children laughing and shouting below. Peaceful. Dim and warm even as the wind whistled outside from time to time and the stormy clouds spoke of a cold winter.

  “There you are.” Kalaes entered the room, running a hand through his spiky hair, freshly washed and gleaming black. “Ready to have a good time, fe?”

  Elei was having a perfectly good time at the window, in the quiet, with his thoughts, but he nodded anyway. “Sure.”

  “Don’t look at me like I kicked your puppy.” Kalaes marched to Elei, straightened his sweater and gave him a critical once over. “Partying before battle is tradition. Besides, it’s our duty to our Gultur friends to show them what it means to have fun.”

  Elei snorted.

  The Gultur in question cleared their throats, standing in the doorway. Sacmis had her hair in her usual ponytail, and her gray uniform was brushed and gleaming like metal, hugging her curves. Hera had pinned her hair at her nape and was glaring at Kalaes as if daring him to say anything.

  Kalaes grinned and sauntered over. “Now, now, girl, we’re not going to a council meeting.” He reached for Hera’s hair. “Let me—

  “Do not even think about it,” Hera snarled, eyes narrowing.

  Kalaes’ smile slipped and he stepped back, lifting his hand in surrender. “Hey. Don’t get your camo panties in a twist.”

  Shit. Was Regina acting up again?

  But Hera’s lips pulled in a smirk, and she pulled a pin from her hair, letting it fall on her shoulders. “I’ll make a concession,” she said, “because this is apparently a typical mortals’ night out. And we’re meant to loosen up.” She made the last sound like a question.

  Kalaes’ face relaxed. “Yeah, that’s right. Just drinks and fun.”

  Elei raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  “Where’s Ale... ah.” Kalaes gave an appreciative whistle. “Well, hello there.”

  Alendra’s hair caught the light in fractured rainbows, loose but for a thin braid in either side of her face, displaying the vulnerable curve of her throat. Even in the drab sweater given by the hospital she looked damn sexy — squeezable, kissable. Beautiful.

  She met Elei’s gaze and a flush rose to her cheeks. He realized he’d been staring, mouth hanging open, no less, and he looked away, warmth rising to his ears.

  “Shall we?” he said faintly, and wondered why Kalaes snickered all the way out.

  ***

  Kalaes sat at the bar and three girls lounged around him, one of them practically in his lap, fluttering her lashes and giggling.

  Smoke hung thick in the air, swirling whenever someone passed the booth where Elei sat with Alendra, Hera and Sacmis. Bodies moved on what Alendra had called ‘the dance floor’ — just an empty space between tables, now occupied by sweaty guys and girls undulating to the heavy beat.

  Elei thought he might as well be at the bottom of the ocean, or standing on a heavenway with aircars rushing his way. Because Alendra sat right next to him and his stomach was doing odd little somersaults and cartwheels. Maybe he was going to be sick, and wouldn’t that be pissing funny? Ironic. That he was right where he wanted to be, and yet he felt like running.

  “Are we supposed to do that?” Sacmis muttered.

  Kalaes pulled another girl onto his lap and showed her the marks of Rex and palantin on his neck. The girls seemed fascinated, hanging on his arms like ornaments.

  “Do what?” Elei asked. Why couldn’t he be that confident? Damn.

  “Dance,” Sacmis said and he struggled to recall what she was talking about. “Isn’t dancing part of having fun?”

  “I guess so.” He’d never been to a bar before. How was he supposed to know what ‘having fun’ was like? It wasn’t exactly as if they’d had parties at the trashlands or at the monastery factory.

  “Good.” Sacmis had a determined glint in her eye as she dragged a very reluctant-looking Hera out of the booth. “Come on.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Hera hissed. “I do not know how to dance.”

  “And do you think they do?” Sacmis said. “Let’s go show these mortals how to move.”

  And that seemed to convince Hera, who followed Sacmis to the dance floor.

  Kalaes said something that set the girls giggling, but Elei couldn’t look away from the two Gultur as they insinuated their way among the dancers, got hold of each other’s arms and began... moving didn’t cover it. Flowing, perhaps, surging against each other. Melding and rippling and separating only to meet again, slide against each other and then shudder away, retuning for a moment and then gliding apart...

  “Would you like to dance?” Alendra asked and he almost jumped out of his skin.

  “I...” He made the mistake of looking at her, and then couldn’t tear his eyes off her lips. He swallowed.

  The silence thrummed.

  “Oh, forget it.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to, either.”

  Crap. Maybe he should accept? He’d hold her in his arms then, even if he didn’t know what his feet were doing. “Listen—”

  “Elei, I—”

  They stopped. Her eyes glowed like shards of crystal.

  “We can dance if you want,” he ventured.

  “No.” She frowned. “That’s not what I want.”

  She sounded upset. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Oh, you’re insufferable,” she murmured, the words she’d used in that dank basement in Teos when he’d been sure she hated him, when he felt as if his heart was breaking—

  “I should go,” he said. She’d held him when he’d almost fallen apart, and he owed her, and if she wanted him to leave, to back away, he’d do it. Only he hoped she wouldn’t want that. Please let her not want that.

  “Elei, oh gods.” Her mouth suddenly twitched and her eyes gleamed. “Do you like me?”

  His breath caught. Was that a trick question? He looked away, his cheeks on fire. Kalaes, across the room, was gesturing at him. What in the hells did he want?

  Alendra placed a hand on Elei’s cheek, turning his face back toward her. Her palm was cool, her mouth hovering inches from his, and he caught a whiff of her cool scent before his throat closed completely. He was probably going blue in the face.

  Then she kissed him, soft lips covering his, breath whispering at their corners, sweet-sparkling taste of the drink she’d been nursing all evening, and her hand was still there, keeping him in place. Breathing wasn’t necessary, he decided, in fact it was something other people needed.

  All he needed was this kiss.

  It was as perfect as he’d thought it would be, more intense than he’d imagined. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, and he jerked when she touched the snakeskin on his other cheek.

  She pulled back, breathing hard. “Sorry. I thought—

  “Ale.” He followed her blindly, cupping the back of her head, fingers lost in soft curls, his other arm going around her waist. He drew her close, kissed her deeply.

  Oh yeah, this... this was worth the wait, the doubt, the frustration. Even if nothing followed, even if all he was given was this kiss, he was happy.

  Kalaes whistled from across the room, in between shouting something incomprehensible, and someone was clapping. Elei thought it might be Sacmis.

  And he couldn’t care less.

  ***

  “So this is goodbye,” Hera said, hugging Alendra.

  “Until we meet again, soon I hope.” Alendra’s whisper was muffled against Hera’s shoulder. “No self-sacrificing stunts, okay?”

  “That’s more Kalaes’ style,” Hera muttered, and Ka
laes sniffed, lifting his chin. She turned to hug Elei. “Take good care of yourself.”

  He held her, eyes closed. “You too. We’ll see each other soon.” Cat growled, then climbed up to Elei’s shoulder, and it made him feel better.

  Sacmis made her rounds, hugging everyone, even Kalaes, to whom Hera turned last.

  “You, pet.” She beckoned imperiously. “Come here.”

  Kalaes pointed at his chest and quirked an eyebrow. “Me?”

  Hera grabbed him in an embrace that left him flailing. “Yes, you.”

  “I thought you hated me,” Kalaes mumbled, his arms going around her. “For being a weak mortal.”

  “Idiot.” She shook him. “That was Regina, not me.”

  “And how am I supposed to know the goddamn difference?” His tone was wounded. “It’s not like a light starts blinking when Regina’s in charge, is it?”

  Hera laughed and pushed off him. “I’ll be seeing you. We’ll meet at Dakru City once it’s over.”

  “For drinks,” Kalaes said, and when he let her go, his lashes looked wet.

  Elei took one last look at the hospital, and turned around quickly to follow Kalaes and Alendra. A boat waited for them at the dock. They sailed in the predawn dark, the boatwoman silent at the wheel. Glaring in silence appeared to be a characteristic of boatpeople everywhere.

  They skirted Dakru at a safe distance from the coast, keeping a lookout for patrol boats. Cliffs rose from the mist on either side. Dakru and the other islands were dark, hulking ghosts. Here and there, slender towers rose from the waves — pillars. The boatwoman kept well clear of them, and Elei wondered if these were also electric, and if she’d experienced their effects.

  He huddled on the bench, relishing the warmth of Alendra by his side, thinking of the past days. So many disconnected events that seemed to belong to different lives, different people. Wandering underground and under the sea, meeting the street children of Abydos, the field hospital and the evening at the bar, the kiss, and now this journey on the rolling sea.