Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  “Are you all right?” one of them said, her voice muffled behind the visor.

  A dream? Had to be.

  “He’s hurt,” she said, and Elei’s eyes stung because he was. He was hurt and he’d failed to escape. Failed Kalaes, failed Alendra.

  What a pissing disaster.

  “Let’s get him off the street. You two, get rid of the bodies. We take both aircars.”

  “Maera?” he whispered.

  “Gwen Kheret has fled.” The Gultur pulled Elei’s arm over her shoulders, supporting him, and he wondered why, wondered how his leg held, then found another Gultur on his other side, steadying him.

  “Rex,” she whispered, low and respectful, and guided him to the parked aircar.

  Elei decided he had to be dreaming for sure, but with both arms slung over the Gulturs’ shoulders he couldn’t pinch himself. Which was annoying, since this was his dream, after all, but what in the hells. Might as well go along.

  As long as he didn’t dream of the dead again. Surely he could manage that, at least.

  He was hauled onto a small aircar with a ramp instead of a ladder, for which he was grateful, and then lowered to a nepheline seat. This assured him it was a dream, since he’d expected to be dumped on the floor and kicked to the hells.

  The aircar revved up, rising off the ground, and lurched forward.

  A hand on his chest kept him from falling over. Yeah, nice dream, though all the bruises and wounds flared with bright fire. Next he’d have to work on not feeling pain. Maybe there was an on/off switch somewhere.

  He barely stifled his chuckle. Hoped he didn’t look completely mad. Then decided it didn’t matter. His dream, and all...

  He could test this, nudge the dream in the right direction. “Do you have any water?”

  When a glass was brought to him, he nodded. Yeah. Maybe he’d wake up in Artemisia, planning the attack, or even better, in Teos, or... Or on Ost, with Pelia. Maybe she’d never died.

  He clutched the glass and sipped the water. When pills were pressed into his hands, he took them. Look at that, he’d even dreamed up painkillers.

  Okay, final test. “Kalaes and Alendra?”

  “Let me have a look at your arm,” the Gultur said. “You’re bleeding.”

  He snorted. If he couldn’t conjure Kalaes and Ale, then what good was it? He swallowed the rest of his water and gave back the glass, his arm protesting every movement. Dammit, still no on/off switch.

  The Gultur sat by his side, her scent sweet but with an undercurrent he couldn’t place. He expected Rex to flip out, start screaming for him to kill her, pour adrenaline into his body.

  Nothing happened. This couldn’t be real. Therefore, a dream. “Kalaes,” he said again, “Alendra,” and suddenly he needed to see them. This dream was creeping him out; had he ever met his friends or had he made them up?

  Oh gods, he hoped they were real.

  “They’re in another aircar,” the Gultur said, and Elei was so relieved he let her open his jacket and prod his side.

  He winced when she peeled off his shirt. She made a disapproving sound at what had to be a bullet furrow, but he felt strangely numb. Kalaes and Alendra were in another aircar? What did that mean?

  The world spun and he leaned back, staring at the white ceiling. “Dizzy,” he murmured.

  “Rex,” the Gultur said, then grabbed his arms and shook him. “Stay awake.”

  “How...?” His brain felt a size too big. “I’m dreaming.”

  “You’re certainly not dreaming.” The Gultur lifted her visor, revealing blue eyes set in a pretty face, and gestured. Another Gultur approached them, removing her visor, too. “Strip the shirt, I’ll bring the medic-kit.”

  With their help, he shrugged off the jacket and the shirt, gritting his teeth against new waves of pain. This dream sucked. The antiseptic stung like fire, and then the Gultur threaded a curved needle and set to stitching the wounds, which brought the dream closer to a nightmare.

  Damn.

  “You barely made it out alive.” Her dark head was bowed as she sewed his side. “We almost lost you.”

  “I don’t know you,” he felt obliged to point out, “and you’re a Gultur, so why...?” Damn, he really wanted the dream, the pain, the confusion to end.

  “I’m Iset,” she said. “The painkillers will kick in soon.”

  “Good,” he said, his voice slurring. Right. Maybe there was a sound quality button somewhere, too. He’d get to it after he found the pain switch.

  That made him want to laugh again. Gods, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough,” he whispered.

  “Listen to me,” the Gultur said, cutting the thread, winding gauze around his torso and securing it with adhesive tape. “You’re our brother, our king.” She looked up, her blue eyes bright. “We want peace. We’ll fight on your side.”

  Shit, he was going mad. Batshit. And he couldn’t wake up. He clutched her arm. “You’re Gultur. What are you talking about?”

  “We’re all human,” she said and pulled down her neckline. Around her slender throat was a line of black dots, and his hand went automatically to his own throat to touch the mark of Rex.

  That was the scent — pepper spice, Rex’s smell, mixed with Regina’s sugar. This Gultur had been infected with Rex.

  “I did this,” he said, his throat painfully tight.

  She bowed her head and smiled. “Yes, you did.”

  The new type of Gultur. He sat up carefully, bright pain flaring in the deep bruising in his back and arm. “And Kalaes—”

  “We were following the patrol, saw when they took you. Saw you wave at someone so we decided to talk to them. We split up to find you. We contacted them and they’re on their way here.” She smiled at him. “We were looking for you, because we heard of your plan to attack tonight. We have vehicles and weapons at your disposal.”

  He stared at his hand on her sleeve, letting this all sink in. He wasn’t dreaming? “How did you know?” he whispered. “How did you hear?”

  “That,” the Gultur said, pretty caramel eyes flicking in the direction of the other Gultur who was talking to the driver through a window, “is Bestret. She’s Iliathan’s lover.”

  ***

  He wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t a dream. Elei kept repeating the new mantra as they sped through the western suburbs, his hand pressed against the cold window. The painkillers had kicked in, and he’d eaten a nutrition bar stuffed with sweet bush berries. Rex was happy — with the food, and with the two Gultur sitting by his side, checking their guns and talking in low voices about the best place to stop.

  Sisters. Elei scowled. Yeah Rex, you can stop laughing now. Bastard.

  “How many of you are there?” He was pretty sure he’d seen four or five come out of the vehicle when they’d arrived, but he’d been shot at and his head knocked about a lot. Maybe he’d been seeing double.

  “We do not have the exact numbers,” Blue-eyes by the name of Iset said. “Here in Artemisia we are a force of thirty but more join us every day.”

  That hadn’t been his question, but he nodded, glancing around the aircar. The compartment contained one row of seats, so he guessed that the partition behind them hid more.

  “And you’ll help us tonight?” he asked. “With the attack?”

  Iset rummaged through a box and pulled out a bottle of water. “We did not have much time to converse with your friends. We had not been planning an attack of any kind tonight, but it appears a battle is starting and our help could be instrumental.”

  No arguing with that. “And you said Iliathan...” He glanced at the other Gultur, Bestret, who was busy cleaning her gun. “He didn’t betray us?”

  “He said he was going to tell you about us but did not have the time,” Bestret said, not looking up from her task.

  Elei frowned. They’d had to leave him in a hurry, hadn’t they? His memories of those moments were a bit jumbled. He stared at Bestret and felt as if he was a thousand miles away. May
be it was the painkillers. Without the pain, his body felt light, his head floating over it like a balloon, barely attached to him at all.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For saving me.”

  Iset smiled. “We’re only sorry we did not find you earlier, King.”

  King. Elei shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Accept Rex, Hera had said. Well, screw her words of wisdom.

  “I’m not your King,” he said. “You don’t need a King.”

  What are you then? What are you really?

  “What we need and what you are, these are different things,” Iset said.

  Ah right. Probably some deep philosophical shit or other. The aircar lurched to a stop before Elei had figured it out and he turned to look out of the window. A dark structure rose at the end of the street. “Where are we?”

  “It’s an abandoned Regina temple on the road to Aerica.” Iset rose to open the aircar door.

  Aerica. Elei gave himself a tiny shake and got up, satisfied when his legs held.

  The next moment he was thrown back down, his arms full of slender limbs, a scent of sea breeze enveloping him.

  “Oh gods, I thought you were gone for good,” Alendra whispered, burying her face in his neck and holding on as if her life depended on it. Pain flickered up his side despite the pills, but he gathered her close, resting his cheek on her soft hair.

  “I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking.

  “I don’t care if it’s only for today,” she whispered against his neck, making him shiver. “I don’t give a damn if this is all the time we have. I’m not wasting any more of it.”

  He didn’t know what to say or think, so he breathed in her scent and waited for the burning of tears behind his brow to fade.

  Then Kalaes stepped in, hair wild and eyes red-rimmed. He stood still for a long moment, mouth pressed shut.

  Elei nudged Alendra off. “Kal?”

  “You.” Kalaes jabbed a finger at him, jaw tight. “My hair’s turning gray. Soon I’ll look like I’m a hundred years old. See the wrinkles?”

  Elei blinked. Kalaes was pissed, he could see that much. He looked ready to start punching people.

  And Elei had seen that look before, knew what it meant. Wincing, he got to his feet. “Kal, this isn’t your fault.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, so stop beating yourself over the head for it. I got distracted and lost you. I’m not a kid.”

  Kalaes swallowed. “So you always say.”

  “I’m indestructible. You said so.”

  “I’ve been known to make the occasional mistake. You don’t need to pissing test it.” Kalaes’ hands clenched and unclenched. “You’re okay, then? They said you were, but I couldn’t... Dammit, kid, why do you keep trying to get yourself killed?” He slung an arm over Elei’s shoulders and pulled him close, in a half-hug. “Do I have to put a leash on you?”

  The hug was doing bad things to Elei’s bruised back and wounded side, but Elei didn’t care. “I don’t know. Collars chafe,” he muttered and that earned him a light cuff on the head. He grinned as he pulled back.

  “So these chicks got to you in time?” Kalaes’s dark brows drew together. “You actually didn’t get shot at, for a change?”

  Elei shook his head. Hey, he was okay, all stitched up and bandaged with the super painkillers numbing all aches. Why worry Kalaes for no reason? He was fine, he was alive and on his own two feet.

  He hoped Iset and Bestret, who were watching them with mildly amused expressions on their pretty faces, wouldn’t tell on him.

  “Time to get going,” Elei said. What time was it anyway? It felt like years since they’d said goodbye to Zoe. “The world won’t save itself, you know.”

  The aircar set off again, and he staggered.

  Kalaes caught his arm, steadying him. “We’ll get there on time, fe. I told Zoe to wait for us before doing anything, so get some rest.” He tsked. “And stop stealing my lines.”

  ***

  “They’re gone? Zoe and Dain are gone? What do you mean?” Kalaes tugged on his spiky hair and glanced at Elei, giving him a “what the hells” look. “Where?”

  A group of ten New Gultur watched them impassively, eyes glinting in the flickering light of a lamp post. Around them were old buildings, their windows dark, and the western water tower soared over them like a sentinel.

  “They went ahead to prepare the attack,” the kid, Ifran, explained, hands twisting in the folds of his sweater. He worried his lower lip with his teeth. “You’re two hours late.”

  Frigid hells. Two hours? Elei pushed off the aircar where he’d been leaning. He’d delayed them and thrown the whole operation out of whack. “I thought she’d wait for us.”

  The boy shrugged, shot the Gultur lounging around the aircar a nervous look. “Zoe put out a roach, asking all street kids if they’d seen you. But it was time to go.”

  Kalaes slammed his fist into the side of the vehicle. “Hells. When did they leave?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “We need to contact them.”

  “Can’t. There’s no network between here and the outskirts of Dakru City. Not since Rex spread and the first infighting began. The wave tower is gone.”

  “Gods’ hells and Nereus’ hairy balls, can anything go right today?” Kalaes ranted.

  “What’s the matter?” one of the Gultur, Bestret, asked. “We shall simply follow them, we are not far behind. Stick with the plan.”

  “That wasn’t the plan,” Alendra said quietly. “The real plan was to stay here in Artemisia.”

  Bestret frowned. “I do not understand.”

  “What are you saying?” Irfan paled. “You told us to go to this plant—”

  “I know,” Kalaes said. “I know, all right? It was to throw off anyone listening in. Dammit.”

  “You were going to organize a distraction right here instead,” Bestret said. “With all the street kids. Makes sense. Maybe we can still do that.”

  “No,” Kalaes said. “Nothing for it now. We have to go after them. Zoe’s counting on us. We can’t let them die.”

  “It’s for a greater cause,” Iset said.

  “No,” Kalaes said again, shook his head. “No way.”

  Zoe and Dain. Of course Kalaes would go after them, even if they’d been the only ones at stake. Besides... maybe this wasn’t such a bad turn of events. Taking over the plant would be a major distraction — and would mean the street kids of Artemisia wouldn’t be involved, and Elei had promised to protect them.

  “We’re going after them,” he said, a hand on the grip of his Rasmus, grateful to have it back. Its familiar weight was comforting.

  “But that was not your plan,” Iset said.

  “Plans change.”

  “Are you with us?” Alendra regarded the gathered Gultur, fists on hips. She looked funny like that, blond hair a tangled mess around the small oval of her face, her grin dangerous. But above all she looked beautiful, and he had to tear his gaze away, because the Gultur still hadn’t answered, and Rex or not, they might not agree.

  “Taking the water plant will be a small distraction,” Iset said. “But it might prove a better idea than staying here. We are with you, and with the King.”

  “Oh that’s great, then.” Kalaes waved his hand at Elei. “Shall we, then, Your Majesty?”

  Elei shoved Kalaes in the chest, his lips twitching. “Shut up.”

  “I hear and obey,” Kalaes said, the smug bastard, and was still grinning as he boarded the aircar.

  ***

  “Does this damn vehicle not have a compass?” Sacmis flicked random switches, sending lights flickering on the sides of the aircar and thrusting the engine into overdrive.

  Hera caught her hand. “Enough. We’re going in the right direction.”

  The sun had hidden behind a veil of gray clouds, but according to her last calculations, they were still heading west.

  Sacmis stilled, breathing hard, her exhalations fogging up h
er mask. “I feel tired,” she whispered.

  Dammit. “Stay awake, Sacmis.” Hera glanced back. Mantis sprawled on the chair bonelessly, his mouth slack, his pale hair spilling around his head. Nunet’s tits. “Take our speed and the time. Calculate how much distance we have covered and how much is left.”

  Her sharp commands jerked Sacmis into action. She fumbled with the map, spreading it on the panel and measuring. She frowned, glancing at the clock on the panel and their speed. “We’ve crossed more than half the distance,” she said, her voice rasping through the mask. “Another couple hours.”

  “Fuel tank,” Hera barked.

  “It might be enough,” Sacmis whispered, but did not sound convinced.

  Damn.

  “Go to the back, there’s water and ration bars. Eat, drink, and try to wake Mantis.” She caught Sacmis’ shadowed eyes on her and scowled. “You said it, the tales say the gas causes drowsiness, not death. See if you can rouse him enough to drink and eat something.”

  Sacmis got up without a word and made her way to the back, between the seats, listing as the aircar rocked from side to side. Hera heard the clatter as Sacmis opened the box and lifted out the water bottle and ration bars, then went to shake Mantis.

  Hera snapped her eyes back to the controls as the vehicle rocked violently. Damn swamps and their uneven, unsteady earth. Mantis had been right, though. The aircar was light enough to navigate the tricky ground. Aircars were made for difficult terrain such as this, but the larger models were created for roads and rocky paths rather than sucking mud and water.

  The sound of Mantis’ voice caught her attention and she glanced at the rear-view mirror. Sacmis held his shoulder and pressed the water bottle to his mouth.

  Not dead. A weight lifted off Hera’s chest. They were closing on their target and the gas was not lethal.

  At least, not yet.

  She frowned at the downward spiral of her thoughts, when Sacmis spoke directly behind her, startling her.

  “He’s asking for you.”