Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Chrystalla Thoma

  He walked into a large, white room with tall, narrow windows made of opaque glass, letting in the light but not allowing anyone to peer inside. The floors and walls glimmered, made of the white, shiny stone Hera had spoken of in the aircar. Moonstone.

  Chairs and a table stood in a corner. White lockers covered one wall and stalls the other. Probably showers.

  Hera was already opening lockers, probably looking for clothes. Elei closed the door to the sewers behind him, but their own stench now filled the room.

  “Is this place locked?” he asked and Kalaes hurried to the single other door, so white it blended with the walls, that stood half-open. He closed it softly, then pulled the two bolts and secured it with a chair, jamming it under the handle.

  Alendra opened the door of a stall and peered inside. “Wow,” she whispered.

  “Where’s Cat?” Elei looked around. He realized he hadn’t seen the creature since it’d shot by in the tunnels what seemed like hours ago.

  “Your animal jumped by me as I opened the door,” Hera said, sounding annoyed. “Startled me to death.”

  Cat must have gone out of the building before he’d even entered the room. Maybe they’d meet in the city.

  Now for the hardest part.

  “Listen, all of you.” Elei cleared his throat, and warmth rose to his face when they all turned to stare at him.

  “What is it, fe?” Kalaes crossed his arms and frowned. With his hair sticking in all directions, standing like that, he looked like the old Kalaes. But everything had changed.

  “I’m going into the Palace alone.” Elei lifted a hand as they all started protesting. “Listen. Rex will help me.”

  “How?” Hera cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’s on your mind, boy?”

  “At the hospital.” He took a deep breath. “When I went in to get Kalaes. In the yard, before I managed to go in, four guards with dogs cornered me.”

  Hera made a startled noise. Alendra shifted, taking a long breath.

  Kalaes hissed. “Hells, fe, you almost got yourself killed to get me—”

  “Rex saved me. My scent changed, so the dogs wouldn’t attack me. Then my temperature dropped, so the Gultur couldn’t see me.” Elei winced, remembering the pain Rex had caused him before that, trying to prevent him from going into the hospital complex. He’d have to brace himself for that again. “And the cats helped me. What I want to say is...” He sighed. “I think my best chance at getting into the Palace is on my own.”

  Kalaes frowned darkly. “No, fe, I won’t—”

  “Impossible,” Hera snapped. “Not letting you go alone—”

  “You’ll complicate things,” Elei cut them off, willing them to understand. “Rex will protect me, but not you. It can mask my smell or make me almost invisible, but not you.”

  He wasn’t sure when Rex would start reacting to the threat, to the possibility of getting killed. Probably as soon as Elei himself realized it and fear brought on the release of gods knew what chemicals in his bloodstream. Fear might be his best chance at surviving — if it didn’t come too early, and Rex didn’t cripple him so much he never made it into the Palace.

  “Sobek, he has a point.” Hera groaned.

  “Point or no point, if he’s hurt, if they capture him, who’s going to help him if we’re not with him?” Kalaes scowled. “No pissing way.”

  “I can’t think of a better plan,” Elei said, steeling himself. “Please. You have to wait for me here.”

  “No.” Kalaes shook his head of spiky hair, his eyes thoughtful. “You’ll be dead before you even enter the damn palace. You need to pull a fast one on the Gultur, have someone smuggle you in. Hera can help you, fe.”

  Elei considered this. True, what use were all of Rex’s tricks if he couldn’t even enter the palace?

  Still, that wasn’t the answer.

  “Kal.” He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to relax the tense muscles in his shoulders. “You may be right, but Hera’s plan won’t work either. Her face is all over their wanted lists, just like yours. Even if she got her hands on a visor, do you really think the Gultur go around visored in their capital, and in their own Palace?”

  Kalaes opened his mouth to argue, glanced at Hera’s paling face, and shut it again. His shoulders drooped. “Hera?”

  “Nunet’s snakes.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I knew it was not the best of plans, but I thought it might get us inside.”

  “What, until someone pointed a gun at you and demanded you remove your visor?” Kalaes groaned. “Hells, fe, I thought your plan was bullet-proof.”

  “I thought I’d improvise once we reached that point,” Hera said. She shot him an angry glance. “It was the best I could do on short notice. Feel free to suggest something better.”

  “And feel free to kiss my shiny—”

  “Whatever,” Hera snapped.

  “—boot,” Kalaes finished with a sharp smile. “So what now?”

  “You know as much as I,” Hera muttered.

  Gods, but she sounded so tired. They’d relied on her since the beginning. Gultur or not, she was barely an adult and she’d been driving them on, guiding them, saving them.

  “Kal, trust me,” Elei said, trying to instill his voice with confidence. “I can do this alone.”

  Kalaes’ eyes flashed with dark fire. “Hells no.”

  “Rex will protect him, Kalaes,” Hera said, baring her teeth.

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “It will.” Elei tried to calculate if he could take them all down and lock them up here. He doubted they wouldn’t find a way out if they wanted, though. “It has done so before.”

  “But even if you manage to get inside the Palace, you’ve weakened the parasite so much it might not protect you,” Alendra said.

  Elei turned at her quiet voice. Everyone fell silent. “What?”

  “You took the tea Hera prepared, to make telmion stronger.” Elei hadn’t even known she’d paid any attention. “Rex is still weak. What if it can’t really protect you this time? What if it lets you down?”

  Then I’m on my own. “I’m sure Rex recovered already,” he said.

  “Elei. Don’t. Don’t do this, okay? Dammit.” Kalaes huffed. “I’m not letting you go alone. You’ll get yourself killed and I’ll have to descend to the lowest hell to bring you back.”

  Elei shivered. Fear was spreading cold tentacles inside him. He had to leave now, before he lost his nerve, before Rex tried to stop him. “I’m going.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Alendra said unexpectedly. “I’ll get you inside.”

  There was another of those interesting silences, and he turned back to her. He studied her small face, her clear eyes. “You?”

  “I’m the only one of us who’s not in their records. They don’t have my photo on their screens and newsfeed.”

  What had gotten into Alendra now? “You’re not a Gultur. How are you planning on helping me get inside?”

  “I can pretend to be a Gultur. Maybe they won’t know.” Alendra turned to Hera. “Will they check everyone passing?”

  Hera shrugged, her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps. But there are mortals working in Dakru City. That could work.”

  “They do have Elei’s photo.” Kalaes’ hands curled into fists. “How will you get him through?”

  “The same way Hera would.” Alendra gestured at the uniforms hanging inside the locker Hera had pried open. “The uniforms have hoods. Only I don’t have to hide my face.”

  “Stop this, all of you.” Elei shook his head, exasperated. “I’m telling you, I have to go alone. I can’t protect Alendra any more than I can protect any of you.”

  “Elei, listen.” Hera took a step toward him, her eyes seeking his. “Alendra is right. Telmion’s flaring may mean Rex cannot protect you like it did at the hospital. In any case, a cover until you reach the Palace may be your only chance. I thought to take all three of you with me, but the truth is that would draw attention and inquiries.
The custom is for one Saew, one custodian for each mortal entering the Palace. If they do not notice she is no Gultur, then this could go smoothly.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Kalaes grumbled. “Smoothly, my ass.”

  Hera ignored him. “Kalaes and I can provide distraction, like the street children did for you in Teos. It will only take a guard on a bad day to pay closer attention and sniff you out, quite literally. But if Kalaes and I create some trouble nearby, their attention will be on us.”

  “Yeah.” Elei’s heart boomed. “And then they capture you, and torture you.” He looked at Kalaes, willing him to understand. “Again.”

  Kalaes’ face drained of blood, but he recovered fast. Still sickly pale, he nodded. “Fine then. We’re gonna do as you say, distract them while you go in,” he said.

  Then he pulled out the small dagger from his belt, and before Elei could react, he grabbed the two braids hanging over his left ear and damn it all if he didn’t cut them with a single swipe of his blade.

  Elei swallowed a gasp. “What did you do that for?”

  Kalaes’ lips pulled back in a dangerous grin. “Getting ready.”

  “What in the hells do you mean?”

  Kalaes held the two thin braids in his fist and raised them like an offering to the gods of the storm. For all Elei knew, that was what it was.

  “I let them grow for my dead, instead of tombstones. And now...” Kalaes shook his head. “Now I’m fighting for the living.”

  He let the braids fall, stood still for the longest moment as if not believing himself what he’d done, and then strode to the shower stalls. “Time to get ready,” he announced, stepping inside and closing the door. The shower started.

  Elei bent down and gathered the braids. He straightened, clenching his fingers around them. “Okay. Your way, Alendra. Let’s do this.”

  Without looking at either girl, he stepped into the next stall, the braids still in his hand. He closed the door and laid his forehead on the cold stone of the wall.

  Gods. I’ll be their death.

  ***

  Elei checked the stitches on his thigh and decided the wounds had healed fine. The water in the showers was warm and there was a bar of white disinfectant soap. Elei scrubbed himself with a rough washcloth he found in the stall, and rubbed soap into his hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stood under the water. Had to be in Akmon, in the small apartment Hera took them to, before the Fleet had found them once more and the seleukid planes came close to killing them.

  He stared at the two braids, left on a stool in the corner of the stall. Dammit.

  A rap on his door broke through his thoughts.

  “Clothes,” Kalaes said and there was the rustle of something draping over the handle.

  With a sigh of relief, he opened and reached out blindly to snag the uniform. He hadn’t had the time to think about it, but he didn’t want anyone to see the extent of the marks left by parasites on his body. Between the snakeskin covering most of his back, twisted into strange shapes by cronion, the marks of Rex trailing around his neck and shoulders and down his spine, and the smaller scars left behind by other, non lethal parasites, he’d probably scare Alendra so much she’d run away screaming.

  He picked up a towel hanging from the hook, a fluffy, white thing, and rubbed his head. Maybe he should go out naked, scare her half to death. Maybe then she’d drop this stupid plan and return to the safe house.

  With a snarl, he grabbed the uniform and pulled it on. He filled it in fine, his shoulders wide enough now to stretch it, but the rest of his body was bare muscle and bones and the thick cloth fell in folds past his hips. He glued the straps together up the front and patted the symbol of a star or flower over his heart. Probably the symbol of the city. A cloth belt cinched at the waist, and he was good to go. He pushed Kalaes’ braids into his pocket and stepped out barefoot where the others were trying on socks and boots from the lockers.

  Alendra sat in a chair, pulling on a pair of black combat boots, the tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. So pretty.

  He stomped to the lockers and rummaged for something his size. Idiot. Stop it. But it was as useless as telling himself not to breathe. Even from there he could smell her fine scent.

  His sprained wrist throbbed in time to his heart. He shook it, wondering if he should wrap it. A med kit lay on a chair; he opened it, extracted a bandage and stared at it, wishing he knew how to wrap it one-handed.

  “Here, let me,” Alendra said, and he almost jumped out of his skin. Without waiting for a reply, she pried the bandage from his fingers and efficiently started wrapping it. “Sprained?” she asked.

  He nodded, his eyes fixed on her slender fingers, his mind fizzling. Then Alendra secured the gauze with a clip she fished out of the med kit and turned away without another word, leaving Elei to stare after her, unable to form a coherent sentence even to thank her.

  Pathetic.

  Still reeling, he wiggled his fingers, making sure the bandage wasn’t too tight. Then he grabbed his things and sat down to get ready. Finally socked and booted, he got up and made as if to pass his Rasmus through his belt, but he stopped and frowned.

  “They’ll notice if I carry the gun with me, won’t they?” he asked.

  Hera nodded. “It will raise suspicion immediately.”

  Oh hells. He stroked the barrel with the registration number. Leaving it behind was out of the question, even if he managed to remember the number. “Alendra will take it.”

  “She already has a longgun, a Gultur weapon.”

  “Then she’ll have two.” He bared his teeth, daring Hera to say anything.

  She shrugged. “Carrying two guns is not uncommon, I believe.”

  Alendra reached out for the Rasmus with her bandaged hand. He held onto it for a moment longer, repeating to himself this was the best solution. If he said it a thousand more times, he might believe it.

  He reversed it, placed it handle-first into her narrow hand. “Take good care of it.”

  A small smile lit her face, a fine brilliance like the lights of a distant city, and it took his breath away.

  He didn’t hear if she answered anything.

  “So.” Hera cleared her throat and he blinked, realizing he’d been in a sort of daze. Worse, he’d been staring at Alendra like some moonstruck boy.

  Fantastic.

  “Yeah.” He resisted the urge to rub his eyes. “Let’s have a plan.”

  Kalaes stopped in the process of gluing shut his uniform. His broad shoulders stretched the material across his chest to the point of bursting. He opened again the straps with a curse, baring his torso. Scarred as he was from old wounds, and with the marks of his recent torture by the Gultur, dark bruises and cuts, he still seemed unconcerned about showing his body. The tattoo over his heart, the circle with a star inside, was barely visible, lost among the contusions. His old palantin scar, a white web high on his left forearm, caught Elei’s eye. He thought it looked bigger than last time he’d seen it, but couldn’t be sure.

  Kalaes struggled to pull the lapels of the uniform back together, muscles bunching in his arms, until the straps clicked shut. Elei lifted a hand to make sure his uniform was fastened all the way up to his chin, covering the awful snakeskin climbing his neck and curling around his throat to his cheek. He’d always felt self-conscious about the marks, and now that they’d expanded, and with Alendra looking...

  Hells. Get your head on straight. He forced his hand down. What was this new obsession with Alendra? She’d never get over her disgust enough to be friends, let alone anything more.

  “Elei?” Kalaes snapped his fingers. “Are you in there, fe? Now’s not the time to get distracted.”

  “Alendra with Elei will head west, around the Palace,” Hera said. “Out of the door left, then take the avenue with the small temples on either side and keep away from the Palace square.” Hera adjusted her belt. The uniform hugged the gentle curves of her body in a very
disconcerting way. Elei caught Kalaes looking, too. The older boy swallowed hard and turned his gaze away.

  Hera gave Alendra instructions on how to avoid being seen by most guards posted on the Palace roof and around the walls, and the code for the door to the Vault. Elei memorized it, too, just in case. Anything could go wrong. Deep inside, he held onto the hope he might go in quietly, open the safety box, get what was inside, and leave the same way, never arousing suspicion, return through the tunnels to Gortyn, to their aircar and to a safe place.

  Dream on. It just didn’t seem realistic, not while watching Kalaes strap on his dagger and pass a gun through his belt, or Hera holster her longgun, their faces set in serious lines.

  He patted the small dagger Kalaes had given him. He felt strangely calm and unafraid.

  Alendra had strapped both guns on, one on either slender hip, and was now pulling up her hair in a tall ponytail, in the fashion of the Gultur. She could pass for a Gultur, he guessed, slender and beautiful, her symmetrical face catching the light in a play of shadows and delicate curves.

  “What about you two?” He turned his gaze away with an effort and looked at Hera and Kalaes.

  “Distraction.” Kalaes smirked. “Yeah, baby.”

  “We’ll go around the front of the Palace,” Hera said. “We—”

  “What?” Elei stepped into her face, the fear finally squeezing his stomach. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll get killed on sight!”

  “Not if they do not see us. I’ll send my pet to hide in Anneke College, quite a tall building, and—”

  “Your pet.” Kalaes narrowed his eyes, still grinning like a skull. “Are you by any chance talking about me?”

  “Yes.” She spared him a brief, haughty glance. “We’ll shoot. They will not know where the shots come from. They’ll form squads to investigate. By then we’ll have moved to another building. Just follow my lead and we’ll be fine.”

  “Why don’t I feel reassured?” Kalaes groaned and tugged at his hair, his fingers automatically seeking the braids. When he didn’t find them, a confused expression crossed his face. His brows lifted and he patted his head. He dropped his hand.