“I’m sorry,” Elei whispered, not even sure what for. For freaking you out. For dragging you into a war. For messing up your life.
“Ah shut up, bro.” He ruffled Elei’s hair, taking advantage dammit, because Elei didn’t have the energy to dodge. “Hells, I used to be grateful for Rex. Never thought I’d feel grateful for telmion, too.”
Elei said nothing. He was grateful. It was just... Alendra. How would she react if she saw his whole back covered in tel-marks? Marks so thick they could stop a bullet?
“One day,” Kalaes muttered, gaze turned inward. “One day you won’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’ll go to school, you’ll have a warm place to call home and...” His jaw clenched. “Some day it’ll happen, kid. I promise.”
A home.
Elei forced down the protest — not a kid, never was, and who says you’re that old?— and nodded. Because he believed Kalaes, believed he’d try, but as for getting there...
“Sleep, fe.” Kalaes turned his face away, his voice thick. “It’ll all look better tomorrow.”
Same old hope.
***
The kids, Mantis’ little soldiers, polished off the meager supper offered by the farmers and curled in the room adjacent to the long dining room to sleep. Hera watched from the doorway as a slight woman moved among them, touching their heads, murmuring something.
Her hand clenched at her side. She turned her back to them and returned to Mantis’ side.
“Got word for you. The pillars are up and running,” a muscular man with hair gray like gunmetal muttered into his cup of liquor.
“All of them?” Hera asked.
He shrugged. “Most of them. Enough to fry anyone approaching over the bridges or from the sea. As a matter of fact, the protection system seems to be all-encompassing. We’ve been told even the airforce stationed on the other islands can’t approach us.”
A slow grin spread over Mantis’ face like sunrise on a clear day.
“Sobek’s balls,” Hera muttered.
“Yeah.” The man looked over his cup rim at Mantis. “I assume war is on us.”
Mantis’ grin faded. He stared back, his eyes bright.
“You’re hiding something.” A slight woman dressed in a K-bloom farmers nepheline overalls, tapped her fingers on the table that was still covered in dirty dishes. “You’re heading west. I know these areas. I could go with you, lead you—”
“No,” Mantis and Hera said at the same time.
“Mantis,” an old man with a beard said, his light blue eyes flicking nervously from Hera to Sacmis. “We have always helped you. Surely you trust us.”
“I do. With my life.” Mantis pushed ash-blond hair out of his eyes, hunched over the table. He lifted a brow, smiling. “Any more questions?”
Someone chuckled, and the mood lightened.
“Yes, I’ve got one.” The boy looked to be Mantis’ age, his hair shorn close to the scalp. “What are you planning to do there, in the middle of nowhere, and why do you think it’s too dangerous for us?” He lifted a slender hand when Mantis started to protest. “I know you, man, and I know that’s the only reason you’d refuse our help.”
Hera took a step back, taking in the people of the farm. Ten of them, strong and gruff, no-nonsense adults. All bowing to Mantis. They trusted him. Liked him. Were prepared to die for him.
Like everyone in the resistance she’d met so far.
The angry boy she’d met years ago had given way to a strong young man. It was as if he’d managed to transform his anger into something else, into energy for good. Kindness. Determination.
Something nagged at the back of her mind, another significant realization, a conclusion of grave importance, but she could not yet grasp it.
Damn pills.
“Danger is following us everywhere,” Mantis was saying, his smile turned grave. “This isn’t anything worse.”
Liar, Hera thought, glad he was not about to spill the secret even to people in his trust.
“Then what is it?” the boy asked.
“We’re going to meet someone who might help us gain the advantage in this fight.”
Someone. As if the war machine was a person. Hera swallowed a snort. Soon they’d be giving it a pet name.
The image of the hive deep under the island of Ert rose in her memory like a phantom ship and she shivered. Had there been a hive where the war machine was kept? She could not recall much from that evening and their mad dash through the tunnels, desperate to secure the knowledge of the weapons and find the way back up.
“And what about them?” someone said, and Hera looked up to find a finger pointed in her direction. “They’re Gultur.”
She tried to smile and look harmless. The way her mouth pulled she probably looked like a rabid dog. Hi mortal, she wanted to say. I’m your worst nightmare. What are you going to do about it?
She shuddered to think what she’d be like without the pills.
But at least she’d be able to think. And remember. And plan ahead. These people — the people of the Seven Islands — did not need a nice little friend. They needed a strong ally.
She had to be strong again.
“Meet Hera and Sacmis,” Mantis said, sweeping his hand toward them. His eyes were warm and damn serious when he said in the growing silence, “They are our hope.”
Chapter Six
Bony fingers dug into Elei’s side, past his ribs, right through him. “Did you dig out the bullet, man?”
Elei frowned. There had been no bullet, had there? “Piss off.”
The girl took a step back and raised her hands. “Relax. They’re all dead anyway.”
Bodies, the whole street strewn with them; Pelia, her white blouse splattered with crimson, Kalaes, his dark hair soaked in blood, Alendra’s slender limbs twisted — and hundreds more.
All dead. All gone.
He sank to his knees, unbearable heat rising from the asphalt. The image wavered, then faded. He struggled to breathe, to move, to see them again — and woke.
The room materialized around him; unfamiliar walls, the feel of a scratchy coverlet drawn up to his chin. He was curled on his side, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, warm and fuzzy from sleep.
Soft voices were speaking somewhere behind him. Two people talking. He blinked at the bare wall.
“I do care.” Ale’s voice was a faint whisper. “It scares me.”
Elei frowned. Was he still dreaming? The words made no sense. He fought to get his limbs to move so he could turn.
“I get it,” Kalaes said. “He frightened you tonight. Hells, he scared the holy crap out of me. But he survived. He survived telmion, and cronion, and Rex, and being riddled with bullets. What I’m saying is... He’s a survivor. Just remember that.”
“Sh. You’ll wake him,” Alendra whispered.
Elei froze.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s out cold.”
They sat in silence for a moment and Elei thought of moving, but then Alendra spoke again.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t say that,” Kalaes muttered. “You’ll break his heart again, dammit.”
Break his heart. Ridiculous. Elei closed his eyes. Then again, it might explain the pain in his chest.
“I’m just keeping some distance. You make it sound as if I’ve left him on a bare mountain top to die.”
“Maybe you have.”
“There are moments I think to the hells with it, live for now, get all you can from this moment,” Alendra said. “And then it’s like I can’t breathe and need time to find my courage again.” She puffed out a breath. “Besides, you’re one to preach. You didn’t take any more strays after Pelia Enu left, did you? I’ve been listening to your conversations over the weeks, piecing things together. You didn’t, because you were afraid they’d die, just like the ones left under your care. You even sent those who survived, like Dain, away. Didn’t want to live through it again. Tell me, how is this
different?”
Kalaes drew a hitching breath.
Elei opened his eyes, glanced over his shoulder and found Kalaes staring right at him, pain in his eyes. Kalaes winked, though, mouth curling in a knowing half-smile.
He knew Elei was awake, that he was listening.
“You got me all figured out, Ale,” Kalaes drawled. “I’m a coward.”
Alendra had her back to him, her head bowed, hair catching silver fire from the faint light of the open door. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry.” Her body trembled. “I just... I don’t know how...”
“Dammit, it’s okay,” Kalaes said, turning and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He gave her a small shake and smiled. “Sounds like I should be making some amends, huh?”
Alendra said nothing for long moment. Time stretched into a path, a road. She slumped over. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
Nothing more.
But Elei understood her fear, and if she thought Kalaes had been wrong, then maybe, somewhere deep inside, she thought she was wrong, too.
***
Elei woke to the gray light of dawn. He was staring at the bare concrete of the ceiling, a web of cracks and humidity stains, and a rectangular skylight set high on the wall.
It took him a moment to remember where he was and why. The scars in his thigh and chest itched, the fracture in the thighbone ached. Bruises and scratches from the latest encounter with the Gultur in the street flared in protest as he sat up, the blanket pooling around him.
He scratched at a scab on his chin, waiting for the headache to subside. He was a wreck. Briefly he wondered how he’d move around when he got old. Remembered he may not survive tonight, and forced himself to get up.
A small noise made him turn. Golden hair spilled on the floor, a small body wrapped in a dark blanket. He stilled, but Alendra didn’t wake up, only curled up and sighed, her breathing easing out.
The air in the hall was warm and heavy. He stalked among sleeping bodies, some very small, and made his way to the door.
Outside the cold air kicked him in the face, waking him completely. Further down the alley, trash was being stirred by the warm air rising from a grid. Were they standing on top of an underground passage?
He was about to go back inside when he heard Kalaes’ voice, from behind a fire escape a few feet away. What was it with him walking into people’s conversations these days?
“I thought you had weapons and vehicles.” An exasperated huff from Kalaes. “I thought Mantis warned you we’d need them.”
Elei stopped where he was.
“This is Artemisia,” Zoe said, her tone strained. “Right at the gates of Dakru City. You can’t hide aircars in your basement.”
Elei hesitated. He should go back inside. Besides, although he understood Kalaes’ concern, Zoe seemed confident she’d get everything they needed in time
But there was an itch at the back of his neck that set off Rex’s alarms. Not enough to raise the colors, but his pulse accelerated. He scanned the alley, the street beyond, looked up at small, barred windows and the fire escape.
Nothing moved, apart from the trash swirling at the vent. False alarm. Had to be nerves.
“But the attack’s tonight,” Kalaes was saying, “when are we going to get the supplies?”
“I’ll find the guns and the vehicles, don’t worry. Listen, there’s something else you need to know.” Zoe lowered her voice. “Rumors of course, but still. A new type of Gultur has appeared.”
“And what exactly does that mean? What’s their damn mutation — do they run on all fours? Do they eat people?”
Elei suppressed a shudder.
“I don’t know. Nothing that radical, I hope. But they’re out and about, hunting. Nobody knows for what.” Her voice dropped to the barest of whispers. “They’re the ones who survived Rex.”
Oh gods. He’d known many Gultur had died from Rex, others had been interned in hospitals, and others had mellowed and had started talks with the Resistance. Though the Resistance had proved corrupt, and who knew how these new Gultur were? Both Rex and Regina were aggressive. Put the two together...
“Great,” Kalaes said. “Pissing great. Another thing to worry over.” A pause. “Don’t tell Elei and Ale yet. I’ll tell them myself.”
“I like your brother,” Zoe said. “He’s cute. And you’re not bad yourself.”
Deciding he’d heard enough, Elei hurried back inside and closed the door quietly behind him.
He turned — and froze.
Eyes blinked in the faint light. Children, he realized, sitting on their bedrolls, observing him.
“You’re Elei,” a little girl said, dark hair like a cloud around her face. “Zoe says you’ll make everything better.”
“We’ll have beds!” A boy gave a gap-toothed smile. “And sweets.”
“Please, Elei.” The girl’s small mouth quivered. “Pleeeeeaze.”
Elei swallowed, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t say ‘yes, I’ll save you,’ but he didn’t have the heart to say no. He backed away.
And walked right into Alendra who yelped and stumbled. He grabbed her arm to steady her. Suddenly he was close, so close, feeling her warmth, inhaling her fresh scent. Her wide, golden eyes were inches from his.
“You’re okay,” she said. “When I didn’t find you, I thought...” She shook her head and pulled away. “Never mind.”
“You thought what?” He didn’t want to let go but stepped back nevertheless, fisting his hands at his sides not to touch her.
She shrugged, her eyes glittering, and sidestepped, moving towards the children. “I’ll fix them something to eat.”
He followed her under the insistent stares of the little ones. “I’ll help.”
She smiled, a fleeting burst of light, and the ice in his chest cracked.
He chopped mushrooms and boiled water, catching glimpses of her graceful hands stirring the pot, catching her bright eyes on him, and tingles ran up and down his spine. The children clustered around them, small hands patting his legs, thin arms winding around his knees, but he didn’t feel like bolting from the room anymore.
“Will you tell me what happened last night?” Alendra asked as he poured the water into the pot.
He almost scalded himself. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you stumble out of the building. You looked as if you’d seen a ghost.”
His hand hovered in mid-air, holding the kettle. “I saw two kids,” he found himself saying. He poured the rest of the water and placed the kettle carefully on the counter.
She lifted a brow. “There are lots of kids here.” But she didn’t laugh or wink. She waited.
“Maybe I imagined it,” he said. “A boy... his name is Tau. And a girl with blackened teeth.”
She replaced the lid on the pot, leaned down to pat a red-headed boy who was clutching her leg. “I don’t remember them. Why?”
So he’d imagined them. Gods below. He wiped his shaking hands on his pants and said nothing.
“What’s wrong? They did something to you, didn’t they? Kal said you were beaten up when you arrived in Dakru. Was it them?”
“No, I think... they tried to help me.” He wasn’t sure. His memories of that night he’d arrived on the central island were hazy and mixed-up. The girl had tried to dig out the bullet... and then they’d run away like mice. He’d probably scared them, covered in blood and with his mismatched eyes, signs of his parasite.
“Talk to me, Elei.”
“They worked for a man and his gang.” He shivered, remembering hands closing around his neck, pressing, cutting off his air. He choked.
A hand slipped into his and he looked up, startled. Alendra squeezed his fingers. “They can’t hurt you now,” she said, serious.
The pressure of her hand, her warmth loosened the noose around his neck and he breathed. But before he could think of anything to say, the kids scuttled under the tables and counters, and Zoe came in, Kalaes on her heels.
&nbs
p; “The food’s burning, soomi!” she called.
Alendra cursed, letting go and returning to her pot. Elei clenched his hand, his body still humming, and almost missed Kalaes winking at him.
Hells.
“Food is burned,” a little voice said by his leg and he saw a tiny girl with sagging pigtails and mournful eyes. She couldn’t be more than three. His throat clogged as he reached down and she took his hand solemnly, as if sealing a deal.
He couldn’t remember why he’d been so scared of talking to the little ones before. He’d promised Afia he’d take care of the children. He’d sworn.
He took a bracing breath. “We’ll go get weapons, and sweets,” he said, wondering just how crazy he sounded and why exactly he was doing this, “and we’ll fix everything. You’ll see.”
When he straightened, Zoe cupped his cheek, her dark gaze oddly bright and searching. “I asked you what you were,” she said and smiled. “It’s exactly this.”
***
Hera stood next to their aircar in the gray morning light, squinting into the distance. The mountains of Dakru loomed silver at the horizon, wreathed in white flames, and the sight had never moved her this way before. Not nostalgia or awe but curiosity as to whether their slopes were metal, reflecting the early sunrays.
The foray into the underworld had changed her world — or her eyes, so that she saw everything differently.
Knowledge hurt. It also helped, and that made it worth the pain.
“Having second thoughts?” Mantis came to lean against the aircar, arms folded over his chest. He was dressed in dark clothes, as always, black pants and a dakron-gray shirt that made his pale hair glint like silver.
“And if I were,” Hera said, “would it matter?”
He shook his head. “I second-guess myself all the time. I was wondering if you do, too. I’m told it’s a human trait.” He smirked, raised a brow. Goading her.
Teasing, Kalaes’ voice whispered inside her head. Just teasing. We mortals do that. It’s a sign of friendliness.
Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles) Page 7