She took a step back and covered her mouth with her hand.
“A strong parasite reacting to another strong one,” Elei said, “one that used to be an enemy to yours. I have a new strain of cronion, so you said.” Pieces fell into place with frightening clangs. His lungs felt crushed. The picture emerging was not possible, not true.
But then he thought of the unusual colors her body pulsed. Her attractive scent. The marks on her fingers. The reason she knew so much about Regina and about the Gulturs’ codes and movements.
Elei didn’t know much about them, had never met one face to face. But somehow, at this moment, he knew he was looking at one of them. “You’re a Gultur.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hera struggled with shock, confusion and anger, all twisting in knots inside her. Why had she made the mistake and come back for them? They did not trust her before, and would never trust her now. The reputation of the Gultur — well deserved at that — was sufficient to brand her as the enemy.
She could not blame Elei.
Could not blame anyone at all.
Sobek’s fish tail. She looked down, at the dark marks of Regina on her hands, wondering if they would kill her now or if she had a chance to escape.
Not that she knew where she could go. With a start, she realized she’d become used to being with these three, to their constant bickering and complex relationships; to their odd trust in each other.
Oh for the sake of all the gods. She did not need these mortals. She would go…
The Undercurrent. She mentally slapped her forehead. Of course, hatha, think! She would find a way to contact the rebels and they would find her a hiding place until she was able to leave Dakru for a less dangerous island, as far as possible from the central Gultur administration.
A shuffling sound brought her gaze back up and she narrowed her eyes at Kalaes who had his hand resting on the grip of his gun, apparently torn between shooting her on the spot and waiting a few minutes in case more information was forthcoming.
She did not want to kill him. He was a nice young man and she liked his dry humor. What a waste.
With a sigh, she prepared to run for her life. Contacting the Undercurrent was the best course of action.
If she survived today.
***
A Gultur. Elei cocked his head to the side, considering his own words, wondering if he was right. “Hera?”
Kalaes glanced from him to Hera and back. Then he bared his teeth and lifted his chin. He had his gun out and pointed at Hera’s head so fast the movement was a blur. “Is it true?”
Maera stepped behind Kalaes, arms tense at her sides.
Elei, for some reason, didn’t move, or take out his gun. He willed himself to do something even as he realized he’d somehow known the truth all along. Why wasn’t she speaking? Wasn’t she going to deny it? He hunted for any emotion on her face, but apart from a slight widening of her eyes, it remained blank.
“It was you then.” Kalaes growled. “Playing with us, are you? Trying to trick us into thinking you’re on our side, while leading everyone to us?”
“Do not be stupid.” Hera sounded surprisingly calm with the gun aimed at her forehead. “I have not set you up. I’m on your side.”
“A Gultur?” Maera’s voice cracked. “On our side? Try again. For all we know, you’re the one who shot Pelia.”
Elei’s gut clenched. She could be, he supposed. He hadn’t considered the possibility. Why not? Why did he feel he could trust Hera?
He snorted. You’re the worst judge of character there is. That’s why you trust her. Who’s ever heard of a Gultur going against their strict codes and laws? Joining an underground organization to overthrow the matriarchal elite of her kind?
One of the Gultur.
She could have turned them in from the start. If she hadn’t, and if she was lying, then she was playing a complex game. But a game of what?
“I must go,” Hera said, her voice flat. “Our only hope lies in my access to their communications, and I cannot let them suspect me by being away too long.”
“Cheap excuse.” Maera clucked her tongue. “Try another.”
“This is not funny.” Hera exhaled. “All our lives depend on me.”
“Oh, so melodramatic,” Maera purred. “Tell me, Hera, why should I trust a single word you say? Are you even human anymore?”
Human. Elei sucked a sharp breath. Hells, who was he to say the Gultur weren’t human anymore? His body was possessed by so many parasites as to practically outnumber his human parts. What made someone human? Where did you draw the line?
“I must go,” Hera repeated.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Kalaes said in a voice so cold it crackled. “You’ll bring them down on us, right here.”
“I swear to you I’m on your side.” Hera arched an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do to prove it to you, jump into the void? Open my veins? Cut out my heart?”
“Mae’s right, you’re a drama queen,” Kalaes said with a tight smile. “Why would I trust you? You appear at my apartment, and the next thing I know they burn it down. You make us move out, and then we’re found again. And again.”
“Why would I come in and save you every single time?”
“You’re trying to get Elei’s secret from him,” Maera said. “That’s what you want. You’re a mole, trying to gain our trust.”
That summed it up well. Elei swallowed a sigh.
Hera’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll never remember. He’s a lost cause.”
‘A lost cause,’ Pelia’s lilting voice echoed in Elei’s memory. ‘You’re a lost cause, Elei, I’m telling you the tale is true. Stop making me laugh like that.’ He wanted to laugh too, Pelia’s laughter was so warm, like a cup of sweet tea, like a freshly-cooked fooncake. ‘Laughing’s good,’ he’d replied, ‘but that’s a tale for children.’ ‘Yes, and you’re so very old,’ she teased, smiling. Then shots rang, tearing through the air, shattering the windowpanes of the aircar. Pelia slumped toward him, blood blossoming on her blouse, eyes wide. She pressed a gun to his side and whispered, ‘I’m… Elei, I’m…’
A hand shook him. “Elei! Hey, are you all right?”
He looked up into Kalaes’ worried face. “Pelia…”
“What about her?”
“She said to me… She said she was sorry.”
“What? When did she say that, why?” Kalaes looked past him and his eyebrows shot up. “Hey!” He started toward the mouth of the mine. “Hera! Dammit, where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Elei turned to see Hera enter the aircar, a lithe, luminous silhouette, and slam the door shut. His feet felt rooted to the ground.
“Come back!” Kalaes reached the aircraft and slammed his fists against its door. He kicked the metal frame. His shouts faded in the roar of the engine as the aircar rose off the ground and backed out to hover in front of the mine, before it flew away. “She’s gone! Damn!” Kalaes kicked at a loose stone and it skidded across the cave floor.
She’d used the distraction Elei had unwittingly provided. He stood there, numb. So she was a Gultur. She was the enemy. And they were now on their own, because, enemy or not, she’d saved them three times so far, at least.
“Kal?” Maera took the bottle from the floor and sat down, cradling it in her arms. “Nothing we can do about Hera now. Come sit with me.”
In the soft darkness, Kalaes’ limping steps sounded overloud. Elei turned away to give them some illusion of privacy and smelled the metallic tang of blood. Kalaes’ wound still bled.
Beyond the entrance of the cave, night had fallen. All was quiet but for a lone cricket outside.
“Hey, fe, is that all Pelia said to you? That she was pissing sorry?” Kalaes sounded disappointed. No wonder.
He turned. Kalaes sat slumped against the rock wall, his shoulders drooping, next to Maera.
“No.” Elei stared down at his boots.
“What then? Come on, spit it out, fe!”
Elei shook his head. “Right before she died, she was telling me a tale. A children’s bedtime story about a king sleeping in the dark.”
Kalaes shook his head. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.” It seemed funny now, somehow, and ironic, and downright cruel on her part. “She shot me. And then she wished me luck.”
***
Hera parked the aircar outside the Gultur headquarters of Sicyon, a small town in the plain, not far from Akmon. Built on the main road to the capital of Dakru, it was a crossroads that bustled with life. The plan was to check in, report, allay all suspicion.
The usual.
Inside the headquarters building, the quiet of the long entrance hall was only broken by her soft, booted footsteps. She slowed as she reached the end of the hall and turned left toward the offices. With her hand trailing on the cold metal wall, she thought of Elei and the madness of the current situation.
She’d been a fool. Pelia had obviously been murdered before telling anyone about the medicine shipment. Elei knew nothing, was a liability, and the trio distracted her from her mission and placed her in danger.
She stood still, a hand on the wall. Perhaps it was time to leave them, let them fend off the Fleet and all the other misguided Gultur on their own. The Gultur, according to the last report she’d seen, had destroyed the laboratories on Ost along with every sample they were able to find. The cure was gone, unless Pelia had hidden it well, or, and that twisted Hera’s stomach, she’d never really discovered one.
Reaching down, she rubbed the crook of her elbow with the ghost pain of the needle going into her veins, pumping the serum. That had not been a cure, of course, only an experimental product administrated to counterbalance the effects of the parasite for a while. The way she’d felt then, the complete change in her mood as if bright light had flooded the world, had convinced her she was doing the right thing.
Yet Elei did not have the cure.
Dammit all. She scrubbed a hand down her face. The boy was rubbing off on her; she was becoming fond of him. Even during his bout of nearly fatal illness he’d shown guts. She would never forget walking into that dank, frigid basement only to find him pointing his gun at her as he lay there, semi-conscious. Hera’s lips pulled in a smile.
You had to love such a heart-felt welcome.
Not that Kalaes did not have a certain charm as well. Hells, the boy was turning into a devastatingly handsome man with his wild hair and dark eyes — if you were attracted to men, of course. And Maera… She closed her eyes for a moment. Though not Hera’s type, she was pretty and spunky, and hated Hera with everything she had. Fascinating combination.
These were the people the Gultur considered stupid and filthy and due for a mass extermination.
With a sigh, Hera pushed off the wall, weariness and frustration lending a drag to her steps. She shoved the door open. The offices were quiet and still. Faint noises behind the bathroom door told her she would not be alone for long. With a sigh, she sat at the first desk and tapped the activating command into the data processor.
An alert icon came up on the screen, flashing red.
Hera blinked, at first not understanding what she read: ‘Red alert. Hera, Echo No Seven thousand and twenty one, has betrayed the Race. Contact the headquarters in Dakru City. Red alert.’
Gods. Hera swallowed a gasp as she pushed away from the desk and staggered to her feet. The world tilted and she leaned over the desk, fighting nausea.
She’d been discovered.
As thousand possibilities raced through her head, another Gultur stepped into the room, tall and wiry with short dark hair. Her gaze flicked to the screen and her body tensed.
“Hatha.” Her voice held hatred instead of respect. She reached behind her back for her longgun.
Hera was faster. She drew hers, clicking off the safety, and pointed, proud at how steady her hands were even though she shook inside. She squinted down the barrel, aiming between the woman’s wide eyes.
“One word and I shoot,” she said. The woman took a step toward the screen and Hera caressed the trigger. “Do I sound like I’m joking, senet?” Sister indeed. “Go back into the bathroom and close the door.”
The Gultur obeyed, a muscle leaping in her locked jaw, her eyebrows knitting. She backed away until she reached the bathroom, then pushed the door open with her back and disappeared inside.
Hera took a deep breath and released it before she strode forward and jammed the bathroom door shut with a chair. That meant nothing, of course — the other woman could have a beeper with her to alert the others, but at least it bought Hera some precious time.
Sheathing her gun, she turned and with two strides bolted out of the door and raced down the hall to the exit. Someone shouted behind her and she ran faster. Outside, a few passers-by threw her curious looks as she raced down the street to her aircar.
She was a fugitive now, too. Repeated glances over her shoulder showed her a Gultur coming out of the headquarters, shouting something, longgun in one hand. Nunet in the deep. When she finally reached the aircar, her fingers trembled so much she almost dropped the key twice before she managed to insert it into the lock. Legs shaking, she climbed into the aircar and turned it on, shooting furtive glances into the rearview mirror at the woman now running toward her. Damn.
Hera took the aircar out of the street onto the main avenue and accelerated, weaving between old streetcars.
Who, or what had betrayed her? Had she made a mistake? Had she trusted the wrong person? She turned into another sidestreet as soon as she could, even though she noted no pursuit behind her yet.
No matter who was to blame, the most important thing was to decide what she would do now.
Easier said than done.
Chapter Nineteen
“I think your memory’s all jumbled,” Maera muttered. “I told you, Elei, Pelia can’t have shot you. You were in shock, got all confused.”
Elei gave a half-hearted shrug. He couldn’t argue with that, but the memory wouldn’t fade or change. His head hurt.
“We should leave,” Kalaes said.
“Not yet. The Fleet’s still here. I can hear the seleukids. Turn off the torch.” Elei sat with his back against the wall. Once remembered, Pelia’s words rang in his mind. ‘I’m sorry, Elei. So sorry, kid. Good luck.’
They waited in darkness. Kalaes sat next to him, forehead resting on his knees. Maera was curled at the cave entrance, looking out.
“They must have leveled Akmon by now,” Maera whispered.
“Yeah.” Elei closed his eyes, listening. “The Fleet’s moving away. They should be gone soon.”
Why had Pelia said she was sorry? For shooting him? For leaving him? For dying? For not telling him the truth and so getting him into this trouble?
His headache intensified. Fire crawled down his spine, slithered along the back of his legs. Pissing hells.
Kalaes shifted. “What if they don’t leave? Why wouldn’t she tell them where she left us?”
Hera. A Gultur.
Elei rubbed his forehead. “She won’t betray us.” The sorrow in her dark eyes when she’d leaned over him, when she’d given him the key to the apartment, was lodged in his memory. “I even think she’ll come back to help us.”
“Sure, fe, and I’ll be the king of Dakru.” Kalaes stretched his long legs and popped his back. “Unless she’s still deadly curious to know Pelia’s famous last words. Maybe she’s obsessed with that. She looks like the obsessive kind.”
“She heard me say what Pelia’s last words were.”
“I bet she thinks there’s more.”
Did she? Elei wondered what Hera wanted. She’d been kind to them. Aloof and arrogant, yes, but also perceptive. She must have realized he didn’t remember anything else.
Hera was suspicious of Maera.
He hesitated. “Maera, is it true you worked in a hospital in Artemisia?”
“Sure it is. For three years.”
“She left ri
ght after Pelia did,” Kalaes said. “She was always very determined to get what she wanted.”
His torso flashed a pulsing red, which grew darker right over his heart. Elei frowned. Why now? What danger was there? He tried to ignore it and turned to Maera, but her face was blank. “And what was it you wanted?”
She chuckled softly. “To become rich. To escape Aerica.”
“But you returned.”
She shifted toward them and clasped her knees to her chest. “I did.”
Her profile glowed white, but her chest was a deep yellow, her heartbeat red. The new parasite seemed as determined as cronion had been to identify every possible target. Though why it showed him Maera’s vital centers now, as they sat in the calm and quiet, was anybody’s guess. “Why did you?”
“These new Gultur policies make living in the black too hard. They want everyone registered, demand to see IDs and qualifications. I had to leave. Aerica is more relaxed, you come and go and nobody ever checks you.”
“You’ve got no family there?”
“No.”
“She has her father,” Kalaes said.
A father? So why was she denying it?
She humphed and turned away. “He’s not my father. Scum, that’s what he is. I’ve got no family.”
“Hey, come here, fe.” Kalaes opened his arms for her. “What’s with the interrogation, Elei? Leave her be.”
She smiled, scooted over to him. He wrapped her in the nest of his arms, pulled her close. “You’ve got family. We’re family, aren’t we?”
She didn’t answer him, but laid her head on his shoulder.
Elei supposed that was answer enough, and had to avert his eyes. He had that funny, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach again, and drawing his legs in, he hugged his knees.
Stop it, he ordered himself. So they’ve found each other, they’re a family now. Period.
Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) Page 15