Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

  “Ready then?” Alendra said.

  “It’s now or never.” Kalaes pulled up his hood and strands of black hair fell over his eyes.

  “Cover up,” Hera said and pulled on her own hood. With her hair covered, her eyes looked larger and more transparent, like jewels.

  Elei reached behind his head and lifted his hood over his head. He tugged it down, all the way to his mismatched eyes, hoping to hide them in its shadow. He was as ready as he’d ever be. The room flashed in faint lights and colors, phantoms of warmth and different materials painting the world.

  Rex was awake, lurking inside him, ready to strike. Knowing that soon the parasite would realize exactly what was going on, Elei clenched his fists, already expecting the pain Rex would throw at him to stop him from endangering himself more.

  He’d not really talked to anyone about this. And now’s not the time.

  Kalaes moved the chair jamming the door and pulled back the bolts. He peeked outside. “All clear. We go first, eh, Hera?”

  “Yes, pet.” She grinned.

  “I swear,” he growled, “if you call me that one more pissing time...”

  She pushed past him, stood at the door opening. “You’ll kill me?”

  “Damn Gultur,” Kalaes grunted, sounding exasperated. “Come on, let’s follow your half-assed plan.”

  “While your plan is so much better. Oh wait, you do not have one.”

  Elei suppressed a sigh. Like kids. “Be careful out there.” A knot lodged in his throat made his voice rough.

  “Says the one who was about to enter the Palace alone,” Kalaes ground out, but his eyes didn’t seem angry.

  “Let’s go,” Hera said, a foot already outside.

  “Yeah. Take care, kid. Meet you here when we’re all done.” And Kalaes stepped closer. He reached up, pushed Elei’s hood back and ruffled his hair.

  It was such a familiar gesture that Elei’s breath caught. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. So he just nodded and watched as Kalaes and Hera left the room, closing the door softly behind them.

  “Let’s give them a few minutes before we set out,” Alendra said, her voice hushed. In the light slanting through the high windows, her eyes were the color of honey, and her skin glowed.

  Stop. Stop feeling and wishing and expecting. He stood by the door and inhaled the breath of morning drifting through the door, the fruity scent of thousands of Gultur gathered in one place.

  Be the weapon Rex wants you to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alendra strode a step before him, her pale ponytail fluttering and breaking into golden strands with the cold breeze. He followed, keeping the small distance as it befit a prisoner, looking at her booted feet rising and falling, tum-tum-tum, a drum setting the rhythm of his steps.

  Furtive glances to the side showed buildings of white stone like the ones in Bone Tower, small crystals in their surface catching and reflecting the light, torturing the eye. Trees lined the street, thick trunks with holes and protrusions, and then the foliage like tousled hair on top, rustling softly, whispering.

  Keep your eyes down.

  Birds flitted from tree to tree and roof to roof with a flutter of wings, chirping and cooing. An aircar zoomed by, a long transport S152 with darkened windows. Pelia’s had been one of those. His heart beat faster, and he clenched his hands, trying to calm and center himself.

  No feelings. Not now. If Rex brought him down, he’d have no chance of making it.

  The scent of the flowers growing in long, rectangular pots at the entrance of each building was heady; at times it covered the Gultur scent that permeated the city. Which was just as good, because Rex reacted to the Gultur scent like a dog chasing a cat.

  Cat. He wondered where Cat had gone. He remembered how Cat had attacked Hera when she’d been angry with him. He’d hoped for an ally, small as Cat was, but it was not to be.

  Alendra took a narrow side street. As he followed, he looked up and started, shocked into immobility. The tall roofs glinted like silver, reflecting the morning light like mirrors. He’d never seen anything like it and soon he had to avert his gaze, blinded. He resumed walking, blinking white spots from his eyes.

  Pissing incredible. Instead of the stench of urine and rotten trash he’d expected from a back alley, a perfume of flowers and pungent herbs drifted on the air. Instead of graffiti and piles of trash, upturned garbage containers and filthy street kids, he saw a clean floor of white cement that echoed faintly with their steps, pots with flowers lining the walls and a huge painting of a ship taking up a wall.

  He thought of Afia’s and Jek’s faces, of all the street kids huddled around them, thin faces and grubby hands, watching, silent.

  Afia. I’ll do it.

  Tum-tum-tum. Alendra’s tread brought his gaze back down, to the soles of her boots, barely stained, their nepheline material a soft gray.

  They turned into another street, just as narrow, just as beautiful and clean. A bird hopped not ten feet away, a sparrow, fat and fluffy, pecking at a plate filled with crumbs, thoughtfully put out of a door.

  Feeding the birds, but not the mortals. Anger welled in his chest. He pushed it down. Not now.

  They came out into an avenue. Aircars passed by, elegant and polished, moving in neat lines. A Gultur was crossing, head held high, barely glancing right and left as she did. The aircars halted to let her pass, then resumed their traffic.

  Civilized. Controlled. Perfect.

  Dammit, stop thinking. Stop feeling.

  Easier said than done.

  They crossed, weaving among the aircars. The vehicles slowed as the two of them made their way across, and he hunched his shoulders, trying his best to look meek and submissive.

  It was a relief when they vanished inside another narrow street with the now familiar pleasant smells and sounds. A cat strolled by, but it wasn’t Cat. This one’s eyes were green and its fur white like the walls of the houses.

  They walked street after street, and Elei’s heart calmed, lulled by the monotony of their actions.

  Then, they exited into a wider street and he gasped, looking up and up, at the Palace of the Gultur.

  “Holy shit.” He’d never seen anything remotely like it. Not even the temple of Bone Tower compared to this. Huge columns, white and shiny, curved inward, toward the jewel-like building at their center. Like the skeleton of a beached whale, like the bars of a cage, they only focused the eye on the Palace, a tower made of metal sheets, vertical and undulating like enormous ribbons, like a sea anemone he’d seen once in a book. It glittered and seemed to move.

  Scent of Gultur. Danger. Rex stirred inside his head, drumming against his possessed eye. The parasite was aware. Of the danger. Of the Gultur women’s scent. Of potential death.

  He thought he was prepared, but when blinding pain shot down every nerve, it almost sent him sprawling. He staggered and fought to keep upright as hot needles tore through his bones and muscles. No, gods, no. He couldn’t fall. He had to make it. He couldn’t let Alendra see—

  “Hurry.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him along, so that they entered together through an arched gate made of shimmering black stone.

  Alendra paused, and he was grateful for the moment to breathe through the pain. “Are you all right?” Her limpid eyes looked concerned.

  Or maybe Rex was twisting everything in his head.

  “Yeah.” But fire speared his lower back and he clenched his teeth.

  “Come on, Elei.” Alendra tugged on his hand, her face set in serious lines, her small mouth pursed.

  He nodded and she released him, striding away. Through the storm of pain, he forced his feet to move and he stumbled after her, his vision tunneling, the only light her lithe figure. They walked alongside the street surrounding the Palace, to what he guessed had to be the back. Hard to tell with such a strange construction.

  Shuffling his feet, focusing on Alendra’s boots, he realized they’d entered the Palace grounds when he heard
more voices and smelled Gultur, many, together, a wave of scent drowning his senses.

  “Em hotep, senet.” a gravelly female voice said from his left, but he dared not raise his gaze to look. “Imeyer ra?”

  Gods, he’d forgotten that inside the Palace one spoke a different language.

  “Em hotep,” Alendra said and paused. Had Hera taught her enough to get by?

  Yeah, when?

  Silence stretched, confirming his fear.

  “You are not Gultur,” grated the guard, annoyance clipping her voice. “Who are you working for?”

  Elei chanced a glance up at the guard. The Gultur was elderly, still strong, with wide shoulders and a lined face.

  “Phoebe.” Alendra’s cool voice repeated the information Hera had given them. “I arrived a week ago, on orders of the House of Delphon.”

  “Phoebe? Only yesterday she told me that she had no mortals in high positions in her House.”

  Shitshitshit. Life forms in the periphery of his vision lit up with deep orange and red — Gultur and humans. A cat jumped from the fence, its body flashing crimson, then vanishing, dismissed as unimportant. Guns in Gultur guards’ holsters blinked, cool blue and outlined in white.

  “Maybe so. My position is only temporary,” Alendra said, coolly.

  “And it will remain so, seeing your lack of etiquette,” spat the Gultur. “I know Phoebe likes her girls young, but you have no manners!”

  “I never—”

  A slap cracked and Elei’s gaze snapped back up, his heart slamming against his ribs. Alendra held her cheek with her bandaged hand, her eyes wide. The Gultur smirked darkly.

  “Shut your mouth until I ask you something. And your slave here needs to learn respect. He’s looking at you. Teach him.”

  He didn’t know what he expected at that point, but he was unprepared for Alendra swinging her hand back and cracking her open palm against his cheek.

  It was mostly shock that sent him staggering back. The hit was muffled by his hood, and besides, nothing compared to the pain Rex regularly dealt him. His hood slipped backward, though, and he pulled it deep over his mismatched eyes before the Gultur got a good look at his face.

  “Keep your eyes down,” Alendra barked at him and he jerked his gaze down to the flagstones of the yard, away from her reddened cheek.

  “Now.” The Gultur sounded pissing smug. Damn her. “What’s your business here?”

  “Kitchen duty for him,” Alendra snapped, her angry tone sounding genuine. “He lagged behind the others. Needs to be put in his place in more ways than one. Doing dishes in his lunch time will teach him to work faster.”

  Lunch time? Had they been walking for so long? A quick glance to the side showed him the short shadows of a tree and the fence. Midday. He wondered if Kalaes and Hera had begun with their distraction.

  “I do not see anyone marked for dish washing today.” The Gultur’s voice turned shrill. “This is suspicious. I’ll call my superior.”

  Danger, danger. Impulses went through his body, warning signs — his leg muscles stiffened, ready to run. His stomach twisted. Cold sweat ran down his back, trickling between his shoulder blades.

  “Listen, I did not enter his name in the list.” Alendra’s voice sounded a little out of breath. Elei hoped the Gultur wouldn’t notice. “Last minute decision.”

  “We do not do things this way around here.” A pause. “I must check with your owner before letting you in,” said the Gultur. Her head flashed a blinding yellow, on and off, on and off. His Rasmus in Alendra’s belt was outlined in white light. Rex was making it easy for him — grab the gun, shoot the Gultur, run.

  His hand was already reaching out for the gun, when shots rang in the distance. Alendra’s gaze flicked to him. Kalaes and Hera. The distraction.

  Alendra leaned toward the guard. “What’s happening?” she asked, her voice careful but also somehow eager.

  The woman drew her longgun, longer than Hera’s, with double barrel and a sound suppressor attached to the front. That silent bullet might hit Kalaes or Hera and kill them, and they wouldn’t even know where the bullet came from. The Gultur’s outline sparkled, silver, and the pulse of her heart flashed golden in her chest.

  A touch on his shoulder, and he glanced aside to see Alendra. He hadn’t realized he’d started toward the Gultur, a hand on the hilt of his hidden dagger.

  Right. Not now. The guard was moving toward the gate they’d come through. Others were pouring out of the Palace, guns at the ready. His chest was a tight knot of tension. He pressed his hand to his diaphragm, trying to ease his breathing.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” another Gultur asked, longgun pointing to the paved ground.

  “Taking this mortal inside for kitchen duty,” Alendra said smoothly and he envied her self-control when his hands were shaking.

  “Go then and stay indoors until we know what the matter is.”

  Alendra nodded and gestured for Elei to follow her along a path of flat, black stones set in the white pavement like islands, slightly raised and polished.

  Every muscle in his body trembling, Rex hammering on the back of his eye, he stumbled along, his gaze flicking between the Palace and the gathering Gultur. The headache slithered down his clenched jaw, down the crown of his head, gathering at the back of his neck, tensing his shoulders.

  They entered through the arched door and stood in a high-domed hall. Heavy-set women hacked meat into pieces with broad knives, white fish and red whale or seal flesh.

  “Hera said to cross the kitchens to the main halls,” Alendra whispered. “Beyond the kitchens are offices, and then the Ceremony Hall.”

  All heavily guarded. “Fine,” he pushed the word out through gritted teeth. Rex screeched along his nerves and a streak of pain rushed down his legs. Hells. His pulse jumped, then sped, pounding at his temples, echoing in his ears. He took a step back.

  From behind came the sharp crack of a knife on stone, jolting him.

  “Stay off my table, boy.”

  He turned. A woman, probably a mortal, held the knife raised, her face and clothes spattered with blood.

  Blood, gore, dismembered bodies, a stench of burnt flesh and loosened bowels.

  “Move it,” Alendra said loud enough to be heard by anyone and set off toward an open door at the other end of the hall.

  He lurched like a drunkard after her, knocking into tables and garnering curses and boos. Cool it, Rex. The parasite thought he could still run out of the Palace and save himself, but truth was, it was already too late for that.

  Although, if he turned about and crossed back to the exit, with all the guards racing to see what those shots had been, perhaps he could escape, run through the streets.

  Dammit, no! Balling his fists, he staggered on, and he’d reached the door Alendra had gone through when Rex sent another wave of crippling pain down his limbs. He gripped the ornate frame not to fall, his body jerking.

  Screw this, he wouldn’t make it. Coolness on his cheeks told him he was crying. His legs shook. He tried to call Alendra’s name but he couldn’t speak, his throat closing with the pain.

  Quick, light steps, and he braced himself for a blow from any Gultur passing by.

  But it was Alendra’s concerned face that swam into view. “Elei, what are you doing?”

  He closed his eyes, dizzy. “Me?” He swallowed hard. “Just hugging the wall.”

  “What is it?” She glanced back and forth, skittish. “We don’t have time.”

  He nodded and pushed off the doorframe. “It’s Rex.” I’m okay. All is well. All is fine. Carefully, he forced his knees to straighten. I’m safe. Hear that, Rex?

  “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

  “I’m fine.” He focused on the map in his mind, refusing to let the pain stop him. “If you worry I’ll infect you, go back to the tunnels.”

  “No, dammit, Elei.” Her voice turned to steel. “We’re doing this together.”

  Surprised, he looked at
her fine profile, but she stared ahead. He’d have said something to that, but a guard stood by a grand door, a longgun pointing to the ceiling, and he fell a step back, praying nobody had heard them talking.

  The light inside the Palace was dim, like candle light, radiating from niches in the walls. For the eyes of the Gultur, it had to be more than enough illumination. For him, the corridor was bright as day, but for Alendra it was probably hellish — walking without seeing what lay ahead.

  They continued in silence through the wide corridor — well, she walked, he staggered. They passed two sets of guards playing dames and knaves, or chess, he couldn’t quite see. Rex’s reaction was changing now, sharpening, the pain lessening.

  Just another step. Just another breath.

  Another pair of guards, turning to look at them pass, their chests pulsing the orange hue of the fire, their heads a throbbing yellow.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  The colors receded to a fainter glow, and he stumbled as the real skin of the world resurfaced, throwing him off balance.

  Alendra caught his arm to steady him, a flicker of worry in her cat-like eyes, and he remembered how she’d almost fallen to her death in the tunnels. A hot wave of protectiveness washed over him, left him blinking dazedly. That couldn’t be Rex. Rex didn’t care about protecting anyone but its host.

  He wouldn’t let her die. He had to find a way to force Rex to protect her, too.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The corridor wound around the Ceremony Hall, a huge oval, guards posted at each heavy metal door.

  Elei concentrated once more on Alendra’s feet, marching before him, to keep calm and not give Rex another excuse to bring him down. Their luck had held so far, but they should hurry. Who knew what was happening outside the Palace, if Kalaes and Hera...

  Gods, stop it. Too late to walk out now. Don’t think.

  A cat meowed. The creature ran to him, then kept pace. It wasn’t his Cat — this one was a striped one, bigger and heavier, but, gods, its eyes were the same light blue. Elei slowed. Had Cat infected others so fast? How many of the sick creatures were in the Palace? How could they help him?