Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Chrystalla Thoma

  “Is the water warm?” Kalaes asked, and the image shattered like glass, left Elei blinking and his heart beating erratically.

  “Warm enough.” Hera took a look at Alendra’s dough, shaped now into small pies, and sat at the table.

  Elei struggled not to recoil, not to move away, staring at Hera’s throat where he’d seen blood spurting like a fountain a moment ago. Shit, I’ve got to do something about this.

  Unaware, Hera leaned toward him, her hair dripping on the table with a tiny patter. “That number you mentioned earlier?”

  “Yeah?” That cleared the last bit of the haze. “What about it?”

  “That was the year the Undercurrent began.”

  A shudder went through Elei. It made sense Pelia should choose that year as a landmark. “But the day and month?”

  “I do not know.” Hera shook her head. “That was also the year a senior member of the Gultur Elite disappeared.” Hera absently ran a finger over the table, checking for dust.

  “Who?”

  “Echo number 153, codename Hecate.” She sighed. “I do not know the exact date for that either. I wish I had access to the main system.”

  “But why should Pelia care about that?” Kalaes was reassembling the gun with quick motions. “Why would a mortal care for the disappearance of a Gultur princess?” He paused. “Did Hecate have something to do with the Undercurrent?”

  Hera shrugged. “I do not have that information.” Her eyes narrowed. “Speaking of the Gultur Elite...”

  Alendra came to the table with a platter of fritters. The smell should have been divine, but it only brought bile to Elei’s throat. Damn you, Rex.

  “You were saying?” He tried inhaling through his mouth.

  Hera popped a fritter into her mouth and chewed, eyes closing in bliss. “The number. I was thinking about it during my shower, and it occurred to me it could be more than just a date.”

  “What else could it be?” Kalaes said, blinking.

  “The Gultur elite, the Echo princesses, use dates as codes. The system was created to make remembering the codes easier.”

  “Codes?” Kalaes stuffed his mouth with two fritters and his next words came out garbled. “For what?”

  “Safety boxes.” Hera licked her fingers, one by one, looking thoughtful. “Combinations of words and numbers are employed to make cracking the code more difficult.”

  “Where are these boxes?” Elei swallowed hard, suddenly quite certain that was what the number was. Unlock it, Pelia had said in his dream. Unlock the box.

  Hera took another fritter and scowled at it. “In the Palace in Dakru City.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I do not understand why you want to see this,” Hera said, spreading out a map of Dakru on the kitchen table. “Even if I’m right, even if the number is a code, what difference does it make?”

  Elei pinned down the map with cups and dishes, not bothering to answer. Hells, he wasn’t sure what he was doing checking the map, except that he was looking for a clue, any clue, to explain his dreams.

  Instead, he traced the roads and towns with his finger until he touched Dakru City. It wasn’t far from the coast, or the mountains. The Gultur capital spread like a stain, irregular and dotted with important buildings. The Palace stood close to the center, next to the Capitol. “Where are we?”

  “Here.” Her fine finger slid down to an unmarked spot on the plain.

  “We aren’t far.”

  “No, about ten miles on the intercity.” She eyed him. “Seen anything interesting?”

  Elei blew out a breath. “No.” He grimaced. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for,” he admitted in a low voice.

  “Does this have to do with what Pelia said?” She sat next to him. “What else do you remember?”

  “Nothing.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “It’s coming to me in dreams.”

  “I thought you remembered, not dreamed it up,” she said.

  “It’s not that simple.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you remember when you told me about your dreams?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still have them?”

  “Sometimes.” But her gaze was intense, focused on him.

  “You said you dream of the islands, rising like metal blades. You asked me then if I ever thought of what lies beyond.”

  “You replied you did not ask yourself such questions.”

  He winced. “Yes, but my point is, maybe there’s something in your dreams that is real, something you noticed, or read, or were told and barely remember—”

  “They’re just dreams,” Hera said.

  “What if there’s more to dreams?” He searched for the words, seeing her expression darken. “Rex seemed to control my dreams before, and those dreams led me to Bone Tower. Then it took...” He wondered how much he wanted to tell her. But, despite everything, she was the only one he felt he could talk to right now. Kalaes was avoiding him and Alendra couldn’t stand him, and with the both of them tinkering with the aircar in the garage, this could be his only chance to ask for information from the one person who might know more. “Rex took the face of a little girl.”

  “A girl?” Her expression softened. “Someone you know?”

  “Yes.” Poena’s image rose in his mind as if called back from the dead, and he could clearly see her dark eyes. “Albi took her in as well, a year or so after she’d found me. She was sick. She died a little later.”

  Hera leaned back in her chair and Elei hesitated for a moment.

  He plodded on. “She told me what I had to do,” he said, willing her to understand. “I don’t believe in visions or ghosts or miracles. Somehow Rex got hold of my mind, and it turned the thoughts into dreams to guide me.”

  “And who is to say Rex is not controlling your mind now?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know.” Light spilled from the high-placed windows, pooled on the linoleum floor. “What does Rex want with me?”

  She pursed her lips. “I am not sure.”

  “But you have an idea, right?” He gripped the edge of the table and cold sweat rolled down his back. “Tell me.”

  “I did study cronion, the parasite that appears to be closest to Rex.” She pulled back her hair, then let it fall back around her face. “But they have differences. Cronion does not disperse with water, like Rex did.”

  “I know, but Rex—”

  “Rex went through its maturing cycle inside you.” She sighed. “Or so I think. Why else would it push you to spill your blood into the water? How else would it have infected the Gultur?”

  “Are you asking me?” He scowled at the map. “If Rex is done with me, then what does it want?”

  “Maybe...” She straightened. “Maybe it is done with you. Maybe it never expected you to survive.”

  It didn’t make sense. “Rex healed me. Saved my life. You said so, today.”

  “Yes. True. It’s probably an automatic process, though; it’s meant to heal you, so it did so when you shot yourself. Perhaps it did not expect you to live.”

  And that was also true.

  “Or else...” She stared off at something he couldn’t see, gaze distant.

  “What?”

  She gave a slight shrug. “Maybe it did want you to survive.”

  “Gods damn it. What for?” He resisted the urge to pound his fist on the table. He didn’t want to trigger Regina — and Hera — into an attack.

  “That is the question.” A light shone in her eyes. “Some parasites have complex life cycles. They go through several to mature and produce reproductive adults of their kind.”

  “Wait a minute.” Elei thought he might finally throw up what little bread he’d managed to swallow earlier. “You mean I may have inside me, right now, what, queens?”

  Her lips quirked. “Or Kings.”

  Oh yeah, very funny. He humphed and slumped in his seat, the cold seeping into his chest. His hands were clammy. “Do I want to know more?”

&nb
sp; “More about what?” Kalaes stepped into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his pants. Sweat had drawn white lines on his grimy face. “What are you doing with that map?”

  Elei shrugged and turned back to Hera. “Is that the next stage then?”

  “Perhaps. If Rex sent first the soldiers, then the ground is prepared and it is only waiting to mature into the next form.”

  “Rex? What stage? What form?” Kalaes came to sit at the table, dark brows knit. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing.” Elei avoided his gaze. “Hera, don’t—”

  “Rex is evolving,” Hera said, damn her. “I have studied different strains of cronion, its closest known relative. Sometimes these parasites send out several types of infective agents to prepare for the arrival of the reproductive one. These can invade different life forms for various purposes.”

  “Life forms. You mean other animals?” Kalaes frowned.

  “Yes, like bats, or rats, or dogs,” Hera said. “Or...” Cat sidled inside, meowing. “Or cats.”

  Elei flinched. The cats attacking the Gultur, their eyes blue like his own possessed one. Damn. “So what does all this mean?”

  Hera shrugged. “Perhaps Rex is now preparing a different sort of soldiers. Or perhaps this is its final stage.”

  “Final stage?” Kalaes swallowed, the knot in his throat bobbing. “That sounds ominous.”

  It sure did, because once Rex reproduced, then surely it wouldn’t need Elei anymore, would it? “Isn’t there any way of knowing?”

  She shrugged. “I cannot say without examining Rex under a microscope and without having access to previous research and information. Probably someone else is examining Rex as we speak. The regime must be trying to figure out how it works.”

  Lab results, Sacmis had said. They were analyzing it all right. “Maybe Sacmis knows.”

  “And if she knows, why would she tell us?” Hera grumbled.

  “Wait a second. What if this is the final stage?” Kalaes’ hands pressed together on the table, his knuckles white. “What then? Will Elei be okay?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Hera said. “Maybe he’ll get worse.”

  Elei’s hands fisted. “Great. Anything else I should know?”

  “You asked for it,” she said. But, strangely, her gaze wasn’t angry.

  Kalaes stared down at his hands, lips moving as if in prayer.

  Cat approached, blue eyes glowing, and hissed at Hera. Then he jumped on Elei’s shoulder and sat as if following the conversation.

  Hells. If the dreams were telling him to do something, then he had to damn well do it before he dropped dead and freak parasites burst out of him and killed everyone.

  “I managed to eavesdrop on the Gultur network while you were at the hospital,” Hera said quietly. “I read some early reports about Rex. Like Sacmis said, it’s activated by pathogenic fungi, like Regina and telmion. It creates a symbiotic relationship with these fungi. Regina is the most compatible form, which is logical, since Rex co-evolved with it.”

  “Symbiotic relationship?” Kalaes frowned. “Meaning?”

  “It could mean many things,” Hera said. “Maybe they feed off each other. Or they fight, keeping each other in constant alert. Or...” She shrugged. “Or they live harmoniously together, keeping other intruders out.”

  Elei wondered about the last part. “And Regina... Does it also live in cysts until it’s eaten, like Rex?”

  “No, Regina is a fungus. But where Rex requires stomach acidity for the cysts to dissolve and free the parasite, Regina needs it to grow.”

  An image of himself tearing Hera’s flesh flashed through his mind and he buried his fingers in his hair. “Hera...” He had to tell her but the words stuck in his throat. “What Sacmis said...”

  Hera jerked as if touched with a live wire. “Forget what Sacmis said,” she muttered. “It doesn’t mean—”

  He held a hand up and swallowed hard. “She’s right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Rex wants Regina. Remember when we fought? Rex wants me to hurt you, spill your blood, swallow it.” He closed his eyes, took a deep calming breath as the images played again before his eyes and her scent urged them on. “It wants me to kill you.”

  Kalaes hissed. Hera said nothing. When he looked at her, she was pale. “You mean the Gultur race, or just me?” she whispered.

  He had to think about that. “So far, just you.” He took another deep breath. “I’m trying to control it but I don’t know if I can. You can’t let me hurt you.” The pulse in her throat throbbed, a deep crimson. “There must be something you can do to stop it.” Like kill me first.

  “You see, dammit.” Kalaes mouth twisted in a snarl. “We have to get rid of Rex.” He stood up, leaning against the table, his face as pale as Hera’s.

  “You cannot. Telmion will kill him. You know it,” Hera said.

  I’m dead either way. “At least I won’t kill you,” Elei muttered.

  “Kill me.” She sneered, her eyes alight. “You and what army?”

  Elei shook his head, fighting the suspicion of a smile. Well, there was that, too. Regina was ready to fight him, even kill him, unless he killed Hera first. Could he afford to wait and see if he would? He should leave, go as far away from her as possible.

  “Come on, Hera,” Kalaes snarled. “We can’t let this go on. We have to suppress Rex. Weaken it.”

  Hera shrugged. “We can try.”

  Cat rubbed its cheek against his, and Elei breathed out. “Hey, host from the fifth hell.”

  Then Alendra stalked inside, covered in engine oil, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Your cat pissed all over the aircar. I swear, if this animal leaves now, it won’t be soon enough.” She caught the tension in the room and halted, golden brows dipping over her eyes. Her gaze darted from face to face. “Did I miss something?”

  ***

  Elei sat on the bed, bent over his Rasmus, with Cat curled at his feet. Was it just a couple of days ago he’d lain in a hospital bed, drugged out of his mind and believing that all trouble was behind him? And now this parasite he thought he’d beaten was probably going to be the death of him — and maybe of Hera as well.

  Even if Pelia had told him something important about the number, something that could finally bring down the Gultur, would he remember? It looked like Pelia had her own agenda and it involved bigger things than him — things like wrenching control from the Gultur and throwing the world into chaos.

  He’d thought he’d understood. That she’d injected him and sent him out to meet his fate because she was dying and had run out of options. That she’d wanted him to go to Kalaes because Kalaes cared.

  Turned out he hadn’t understood anything at all.

  “What could this number unlock, Cat?” He stroked the numbers on the gun. “A safety box? A riddle? Nothing at all?”

  Cat batted at his hand, blue eyes bright.

  “Bathroom’s free, fe,” Kalaes called out as he entered, rubbing his head with a towel. His pants clung to his wet legs. The tattoo over his heart — a circle with a star inside — seemed to pulse with red, like blood, among the black and blue bruises that mottled his torso and back.

  Elei wrenched his gaze away from the damage. I caused this. “It’s no use, Cat. I have no clue what the number is supposed to stand for. How am I going to do this if I don’t know what Pelia meant?”

  “You know you sound crazy talking to the cat, right?”

  He looked up into Kalaes’ amused eyes. “Maybe I am.”

  “Heh, no doubt about that.” Kalaes threw himself on the other bed, then groaned and sat up more carefully, an arm curled around his middle. “Ow. Dammit.”

  Elei got up just as carefully, slowly putting weight on his leg. He looked up and found Kalaes’ gaze fixed on him. It made him itch.

  “Was Hera pulling my leg?” Kalaes wet hair was plastered to his face and neck and dripped into his eyes, the water running in sparkling tracks like tears.r />
  “About what?”

  “You, saving me from the hospital.”

  Elei shook his head, weary. “No, she wasn’t pulling your damn leg.”

  “You didn’t die.” Kalaes’ voice had gone very soft. “They made me think you did, and not only were you okay, you broke out of the hospital, and then came back for me.”

  And his point was? Elei ducked his head and hobbled toward the door.

  “Why, fe?”

  The question stopped him cold. “Why what?” It came out sharper than he’d intended.

  “Why did you do it?”

  He turned, reaching out a hand to steady himself on the doorframe. “You want to know why I left without you, why I let you be...” tortured, broken. He drew a sharp breath. “I looked for you the first time but I couldn’t find you and they were shooting—”

  “Dammit, fe, that’s not what I meant.” The older boy had bowed his head, so Elei couldn’t see his face anymore, but his voice sounded muffled and strained.

  Elei was mystified. “Then?”

  “Why did you go back for me? You almost got yourself killed.”

  Grief warred with rage and Elei wasn’t sure his legs would hold him. “You...” He had to stop because his voice was cracking. “How can you ask me this? You saved my life over and over again, and I destroyed yours. I thought...” I thought we were family.

  “You thought what?” Kalaes raised his face and gave him a sideways glance.

  “I thought it’s only...” His voice did crack then. “Only fair.” He turned and hurried from the room. He thought he heard Kalaes call his name but didn’t look back.

  The door to the bathroom was open and steam wafted out in thick waves. Inside it was all shiny white tiles and a square, fogged over mirror on the wall. Then he remembered he wasn’t supposed to wet all those wounds, so no shower for him. Damn. He closed the door. Grumbling to himself, he undressed and washed as best he could with a bar of green soap he found and warm water. He bent over the small sink and soaped his hair, and the water ran black and brown.

  He rubbed his hair dry, wiped the water from his body and stared in dismay at the towel, now stained with rusty streaks of blood and grime. Why did they always have to make towels white? How about some dark red or black ones?