Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3)

Kalaes caught Elei watching him and grinned, gesturing at the run-down buildings. “Charming place.”

  He didn’t seem upset. Maybe brothers punched each other from time to time as a matter of course. He’d have to ask Kalaes about that. Maybe.

  They wound through narrow passages between storehouses and into the streets of a small, quiet town. Sleepy people unlocked stores and scattered food for pigeons in small, fenced yards. They looked up as their ragged little group passed by. They’d make an easy target if the regime knew to find them here, and Elei lengthened his stride, unease like a ghost on his shoulders.

  Hera brought them to a low, long building that looked abandoned. The windows lining its front were broken and dusty, the plaster falling off the wall in chunks larger than Elei’s head, revealing the skeleton underneath — concrete bricks and metal. The entrance door stood ajar, covered in an explosion of colorful graffiti.

  Elei ducked inside, out of the cold wind, and found himself in a dark lobby. He followed the others’ faint forms, his eyes adjusting to the dimness, and sighed with relief. He felt much better under a roof, hiding them from any seleukids and helicopters that might be searching the area.

  A person emerged from the depths of gloom, a young man, stocky and short with a shock of blond hair swept to the side. He stepped back when he saw them, but then nodded at Hera.

  “I rarely have visitors,” he said in a bass voice that vibrated through the low-ceilinged room.

  “Are you Verne?” Sacmis asked.

  “Yes. And you are...?”

  “Tefnut sends us.” Hera stepped forward. “To tell you we’re all human.”

  Elei frowned. Wasn’t that the phrase Afia had said to use if he ever needed help?

  Verne smiled. “Welcome to Ert.”

  He led them down a dark passage and opened a trapdoor. He gestured down. “Here you’ll hide safely until nightfall. Gultur patrols rarely pass by, but with the uproar of the past weeks, you never know.”

  Waiting until nightfall was good. Looking for the entrance to the netherworld in broad daylight, with the fleet scouring the islands to find them, would be the mother of all bad ideas.

  But Hera paused at the dark opening. “And how do we know you will not betray our position and have us slaughtered like rats in a trap?” Her eyes glittered with suspicion.

  “Mantis vouched for Verne,” Sacmis said, laying a hand on Hera’s shoulder. “He would not have done it had he been unsure. I know Mantis.”

  Hera tensed, then relaxed minutely. She gave a jerky nod. “Fine. If you betray us, Verne, I’ll find you and carve your entrails out, tie them to a ladder and leave you to the vultures.”

  Even in the dark, Elei could see the young man blanching.

  “Now that’s settled...” Kalaes drawled, face straight but for a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.

  Elei set his shoulders, pulled on the straps of his backpack, drew his gun and led the way down the creaking metal steps, slow and deliberate, Kalaes right behind him.

  Beneath was a square room furnished with a table and four chairs. Bare metal doors were set in the walls on either side.

  “It’s dark like Nereus’ backside in here,” Kalaes muttered, fumbling for the switch. Muted yellow light flooded the room.

  “How would you know the color of Nereus’ backside?” Elei asked mildly, his ears pricking at a soft sound from the wall. Then he heard the patter of small feet and relaxed. Mice.

  “I paid attention to religion lessons,” Kalaes said piously.

  As the others came down the stairs, Elei went to check what lay behind one of the side doors, gun at the ready. The door swung open under his touch, revealing two bunk beds and the grille of an air duct on the ceiling. Brown blankets covered the mattresses and dust danced in the shaft of light falling through the open door.

  He returned to the central hall just as Kalaes exited the other bedroom. “Just two bunks, and there’s a bathroom attached.” Kalaes dropped his backpack at the foot of the table. “Is there another toilet?”

  “No.”

  “Then I guess we’ll let the girls have it.” Kalaes struck a dramatic pose, one arm outstretched. “The sacrifices we make.”

  Elei shook his head, fighting a grin. It wouldn’t do to encourage Kalaes.

  “Since we’re holing up in here until night time,” Alendra said, placing her backpack on the table, “we should eat and rest while we can.”

  “I think that’s an amazingly refreshing idea,” Kalaes said but made no move to sit. He went to lean against the wall, hands in his pockets. “What’s on the menu?”

  “Bread,” Hera said, taking a seat, “and water.”

  “Yum,” Kalaes said, baring his teeth.

  “Actually, I have some roasted pigeon,” Sacmis said, rummaging in her backpack.

  “Now that is food.” Kalaes pushed off the wall and went to investigate the offer. “Mm. Doesn’t look half bad.”

  Elei’s stomach growled and Alendra looked up with a smile. She came to him, a hand outstretched.

  “Come,” she said, “sit. How’s your arm?”

  “It’s okay.” He let her take his hand and drag him to the table. Kalaes gave him an amused look but grabbed some blue algae bread and meat and retreated to the wall, where he ate standing.

  “Wait,” Elei protested as Alendra shoved him toward an empty chair. “I don’t mind standing. Kal can take my seat.” Had she forgotten Kalaes was sick?

  “I can also stand,” Kalaes said, his voice muffled with food. “Sit down, fe, and eat. You’re thin as a stick.”

  “He looks fine to me,” Alendra retorted.

  Kalaes grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll bet he does. But feel free to fuss over him all you like.”

  Alendra’s face turned a deep crimson. She bent over her backpack, pulling out things at random — a small handgun, a hair band, a bottle of water — and plonking them on the table.

  At a loss, Elei seized a chunk of bread and started eating. If she thought he looked fine, why did she insist he sit down?

  He studied her face, but she was resolutely arranging items inside her backpack and wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  What in the hells was he missing?

  ***

  Kalaes was first to leave the room, claiming exhaustion. Elei eyed him and found him a little too pale for his liking.

  “He looks better,” Alendra said, as if guessing his thoughts. “It was probably just stress.”

  Elei suppressed a shudder and nodded.

  “I’m going to bed.” Hera pushed back her chair, and Sacmis rose at the same time.

  “I’m tired,” Sacmis declared, her gray eyes hooded, her mouth curled in a half smile. “Bed sounds nice.”

  Hera frowned, but she just turned around and yanked the door to the other bedroom open. Without a backward glance, she strode through, followed by Sacmis. The door slammed shut.

  “Good night,” Alendra murmured, her eyes round. “What was that about?”

  Elei shrugged and wondered if Hera was still upset about Sacmis’ secrecy. The other Gultur had proven quite trustworthy so far.

  Then again, who was he to offer Hera advice on human relations?

  “I think I’ll turn in too.” He stifled a yawn and caught Alendra’s gaze on him. “What?” He wondered if the tel-marks had spread and he ran his fingers over his cheek.

  She caught and lowered his hand, her skin cool. Then she reached up and touched the snakeskin. He flinched but she didn’t stop, caressing the rough scales, and he forced himself to stay still. He only felt a light pressure wherever her fingertips rested, exploring the marks. Her eyes were half-closed, as if she was listening to some distant music.

  Elei held his breath. He wondered what was going through her mind — why she was touching what she loathed most.

  “Hera told me,” she whispered, “that scars are beautiful.”

  He stiffened. Scars were ugly things. But if she was making fun of him, her
face and voice didn’t betray it. He caught her hand and brought it down to rest on the table top. He could feel her pulse like tiny wings beating under his fingers.

  “I’ve made you uncomfortable.” She pulled back. Her eyes shimmered. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t—”

  But she was already leaving the table. “You must be so angry with me.”

  Horrified, he jumped up and reached after her. “No, I’m not. Alendra—”

  “You’re not what?” Kalaes asked. He stood at the doorway, running a hand through his dark hair. He blinked sleepily. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “No,” Alendra said.

  “Yes,” Elei said.

  Kalaes snorted. “Make up your mind, children.”

  “We were talking,” Elei said, looking at Alendra, but she was busy staring at the corner of the room.

  “Oh, right.” Kalaes shrugged. “Man, I really need to use the bathroom.”

  He wandered to the door of the other bedroom and opened it quietly. He entered, then a shout sounded and he backed out, lifting his hands.

  Through the open door, Elei saw Hera and Sacmis locked in an embrace. They were naked, the diamond-like scales of Regina glimmering on their breastbones and the white arches of their long necks. Their hair was loose, dark and golden locks intertwining on their shoulders and arms like snakes, their slender bodies pressed together so close not even a sheet of paper would fit between them.

  “Don’t shoot,” Kalaes said, taking another step back. “Dying before taking a piss would suck.”

  It was only then Elei noticed the longgun in Hera’s hand, pointed at Kalaes. She was breathing hard, and the blood had drained from her face, leaving it white as a moon. Her gaze flicked to Elei and back to Kalaes.

  “This is not what it seems,” she managed.

  “It is not?” Sacmis frowned as she pried the gun from Hera’s hand.

  “It certainly is,” Kalaes said and lowered his hands. “My fault, I should’ve knocked, but I thought you’d be—”

  “Yes, you should,” Hera snapped, and Sacmis tightened her arms around her, gun and all.

  “—asleep,” Kalaes finished. He winked at Elei. “Some sleep, huh?”

  “Kalaes!” Hera pulled back from Sacmis, red blossoming on her cheekbones. “Close the damn door already.”

  Kalaes cocked his head to the side, hair hiding his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it then,” he said. “Have fun.”

  And he closed the door. He turned to Elei and Alendra, a grin splitting his face. “Told you they’d jump each other’s bones at the first opportunity.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll have to piss under the stars tonight.”

  Alendra made a noise at the back of her throat, as if she’d swallowed a fly. Elei bent his head to hide the heat in his face. Hells. It looked like Hera had finally kissed Sacmis after all. And Sacmis had more than returned her kiss.

  While the thought made him smile, he looked up and found Alendra had turned her back to him. His chest tightened.

  One kiss.

  ***

  “So this is not what it seems?” Sacmis whispered, her back to Hera. It was a beautiful back, graceful and strong, narrowing to a small waist and slim hips. The fine scales of Regina rippled down her spine.

  “It depends on what this is supposed to be.” Hera felt anger flare again. Damn Kalaes, always poking his nose where it did not belong, always... always what? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the dark mood, not sure why she was so upset with him.

  Sacmis was staring at her over a fine-boned, pale shoulder. She was so pretty. “What do you want it to be, Hera?”

  Dangerous territory. “I think... I want too much, and it’s too soon and not the right place and time.”

  “There’s no time like now. Tomorrow is fraught with danger.” Sacmis licked her lips, and Hera could not look away. “What do you want?”

  Again that question. If only she had a clear answer. “I want to hold you.” Of this she was sure.

  “Come here.” Sacmis pulled Hera down with her and brought their bodies together once more.

  “Sacmis, wait...”

  Sacmis sighed. “Just sleep next to me, Hera. I am not asking anything else. I missed you so much all these years.”

  Hera nodded, a knot in her throat. She settled, inhaling Sacmis’ scent at the juncture of shoulder and neck, pressing closer. Gods, I’ve missed you, too, she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

  ***

  That night Elei dreamed he floated in luminous blue. He was underwater, in the deep ocean, his limbs growing heavy. He sank slowly among shoals of silvery fish and white jellyfish that pulsed like translucent hearts. Wonder filled him as dolphins flashed past, their sing-song calls filling his ears. He reached out to touch them but sank deeper, in darker waters.

  Eyes blinked in the black-blue depths, and different voices sounded, strident and yet musical. He moved his arms and legs, trying to slow his fall. He didn’t know how to swim, and now the descent frightened him. He couldn’t draw air. As he flailed, sinking like a stone, lithe forms shot up and surrounded him, gripped his arms and legs. Their strength was overwhelming, and their fishtails beat the water. Silver hair floated around their silhouettes like clouds, and when they raised their faces toward him, they were beautiful girls, solemn and sad.

  Mermaids.

  Panic gripped him and he fought harder, but couldn’t break free, couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned.

  One of the creatures came to hover before him. The mermaid opened her arms wide. He could see her slender arms and her naked breasts, round and perfect, pale as if carved of cliff rock. Then she looked up and it was Alendra, the honey gold of her eyes glowing in the dark. She put her arms around him, and the other mermaids swam away, leaving them alone.

  Alendra leaned closer, lifted her face and pressed her body to his, all curves and smooth valleys, and he forgot about breathing as his body tightened painfully, aroused and eager.

  “Alendra...” he whispered, his lips hovering near hers, his arms pulling her supple body closer. She let him, and lifted her fingers to his mouth, caressing his lips, making him gasp.

  “Elei?” A male voice smashed the dream into a thousand glittering pieces. Elei jerked. He was twisted in the blanket and covered in sweat.

  “Hey.” Kalaes stood by his bed, a frown on his face. “Wake up. It’s just a bad dream.”

  “Yeah, I’m...” Elei’s voice cracked and he swallowed. He sat up. “I’m okay.” Heat licked at his face. Kalaes had thought he was having a nightmare. Well, he wasn’t going to explain. “Go back to sleep.”

  “It’s evening,” Kalaes said and sank back on his bed. He rubbed both hands over his face. “Probably time to go. I should go and see if Her Highness Hera is awake.”

  “Just knock on the door this time.” Elei fell back on the knotted blanket, yawning. “Or maybe you’d rather not?”

  Kalaes snickered. “I wish,” he said, “but Hera will kill me for sure if I do it again.” He dragged his boots from the floor and pulled them on, got up and ran a hand through his wild hair. “I swear, I’ve never seen a chick in a worse mood than her, and that says a lot. On the boat, I honestly thought she was going to kill me.”

  Maybe she was, Elei thought uneasily as Kalaes walked out the door. He couldn’t recall telling him that Regina was pushing Hera to her limits as it matured, trying to make her hurt mortals.

  Making a mental note to talk to him about it, Elei got to his feet. He thought about his dream and heat coiled heavy in his belly.

  Stop. He shook himself, checked the wound under the bandage, satisfied that it wasn’t bleeding anymore, and pulled on his pants and boots. Now was not the time or place to lust after Alendra — or ever. Get over it.

  He found her sitting in the main room, her hair a tumble of silver on her shoulders. Unable to meet her gaze after his dream — the feeling of her naked, soft curves under his hands flickering in his memory — he grabbed a bottle of
water and leaned against the wall.

  By the time Kalaes came out of the girls’ bedroom, followed by Hera and Sacmis, Elei was pretty sure he had his thoughts and body under some semblance of control.

  “All set and ready to go,” Kalaes said cheerfully, as if talking about a stroll through the country. “Grab your bags and, um,” he waved a hand at Alendra, “put up your hair, or whatever it is you girls do before you head out.”

  Alendra rolled her eyes. She lifted her hair, produced a hairband from her pocket and snapped it on. Her ponytail swung behind her as she rose, a shifting sheet of light.

  “Elei? Are you with us, fe?”

  Elei blinked. He nodded, and automatically turned toward their room to grab his backpack.

  “He’s daydreaming,” Sacmis said, laughter in her voice. “Person-dreaming.”

  Hera snorted. Elei stopped in his tracks, then forced himself to keep going. He could swear he felt Alendra’s gaze on the back of his neck. As he pulled the door open and escaped into the bedroom, he heard Kalaes say, “Well, we all know now who you’re person-dreaming and kiss-sharing with, Sacmis.”

  Elei grabbed his backpack and shouldered it, taking a deep breath as he did. So this was it. Now they’d see if the map was true, if they’d interpreted the symbols correctly, and if all the trouble, all the lives lost and all the running would pay off.

  It had better, he thought, thinking of Pelia — Hecate — and what she’d set in motion to bring them where they stood now.

  There was no turning back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Verne led them behind the building — an abandoned tax-collecting post of the Gultur — and along quiet streets. A few flickering lamp posts marked their passage, lighting a rusty infopole, reflecting in a closed shop window, forming a pool of light in which a beggar woman huddled like a black vulture.

  Elei tugged his hood over his face, then checked his Rasmus. Was it possible that the Gultur had tracked them down and were waiting for them to show up at the underworld entrance?