Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (10 page)

Chapter
Twelve

A
fter
checking the apartment for the third time, satisfied that no charred bodies were to be found under the burnt metal frame of the bed, inside the kitchen or in the bathroom, Elei prepared to leave. Staying wasn’t a good idea, though he didn’t know where to go.

Find Kalaes and Maera, make sure they were okay. That was the new plan.

Gun held loosely in one hand, yet cocked and ready, he rolled his shoulders and stepped out of the apartment. He headed toward the stairs, when he heard a gasp. He turned and aimed at the shadows of the open doors of the other apartment. He thought he saw a movement, but cronion didn’t flare. That confused him and he hesitated. His finger trembled on the trigger.

The barrel of a gun glinted in a shaft of daylight. He squinted, ready to shoot, and thought he saw soft brown curls. The light breeze from a broken window brought a scent of moist earth.

Elei fought with all he had not to pull the trigger. Heart pounding, he forced his trembling finger back. “Maera.”

She stepped out into the open and lowered her weapon. It looked like Kalaes’ sonic gun. Her lips quivered. “Elei! You’re alive! You’re okay!”

Trust her? Not trust her? He wavered, teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached. Albi had told him once that cronion only acted according to his own feelings about someone.
Gut feeling
. Aptly named. Though telmion who lived in his intestines didn’t care about his feelings or even his survival. The only reason it hadn’t killed Elei yet was cronion’s powerful hold.

When cronion remained silent, he lowered his gun and holstered it. Well then. It looked like he did trust her after all. “I’m okay.”

With a soft squeal, she threw her arms around him, crushing him against her warm body. “Thank the gods.”

“And you’re fine too.” He was stiff in her arms, too tense to relax. “And Kalaes?”

“He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.”

Something in her words made him pull back, feeling cold. “Will be? Something happened to him?” She sniffled and the cold in his stomach grew. “Maera?”

“I just have to get some things. Kalaes broke most of my dishes today.” She ducked inside and returned in a few minutes, holding three of the orange dishes and a pan. “Come!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him down the stairs. 

“What happened to him? Tell me!”

“I told you, he’ll be fine.”

He’d placed both Maera and Kalaes in danger. Elei’s shoulders hunched, battered down with worry and guilt. He knew he should leave, protect them with his absence, and he had a mind to twist out of Maera’s hold and run away.

But he couldn’t. First he needed to make sure Kalaes was okay. What wasn’t she telling him?

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said as they crossed the street, and he kept his hood low over his face, his eyes downcast. “They might’ve been waiting nearby.”

“Same goes for you. But, oh, I’m so glad I returned. I had this feeling you were alive and I just wanted to check one last time. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you standing there! Poor Zea! She was always so curious, she must have gone to check what was going on. Such luck that Kalaes was delayed today, he arrived to find it all burnt and empty. He called me. He was in such a state.”

The prattle soothed Elei’s frayed nerves, and he barely blinked when Maera pulled him into a dark alley and then into an even darker entrance. Engulfed in a smell of mold and sweet fungus, they stepped down a narrow stairwell, like an entrance to the underworld.

Maera rapped a complex code on the door. Elei’s head brimmed with questions, but Maera’s hand was crushing his and he kept his mouth shut. He heard steps and the door was unlocked. It opened with a creak. Maera pushed it and stepped inside. Elei made as if to follow, but she shoved him back, winked, shook her finger at him and disappeared inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.

He wondered what this was about. She’d seemed very pleased to find him alive. But his judgment of people was not to be trusted, as he’d recently found out.

He pushed his hands in his pockets, trying to warm them, when suddenly his middle cramped. Usually it wasn’t so bad. He cursed as telmion twisted his insides, either fighting cronion in their eternal battle, or some other intruder, and tried to think of something else to ignore the pain. Pelia’s face filled his mind, bloody and grimacing, and he groaned.
Gods, not this
. He much preferred the physical pain. Taking deep breaths, he forced the image from his mind.

Muffled voices sounded from inside, rising in intensity, and a crash. The door slammed open against the wall and Kalaes stood there, hair in a dark halo, eyes very red. “Elei?”

Thank the gods, Kalaes didn’t seem hurt, although the expression on his face was hard to place. He looked furious and stunned and about to scream. It made Elei’s skin crawl. His gut twinged hard and he bit back a gasp as his fingers spasmed, itching to pull out his gun.

No, I won’t kill Kalaes
. He shook his hood back. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He watched Kalaes face contort and his lips twist. The three black lines tattooed on his cheek stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of his face. Then Kalaes advanced on him.

Elei froze, hand diving for his Rasmus, but it was too late, too close. He expected cronion to react, Kalaes’ chest to flash in red and orange, but nothing happened. Elei’s mind screamed that he’d hesitated too long, and Kalaes was on him.

Grabbing him in a tight hug.

Elei struggled, tried to push Kalaes off, expecting pain. When none came, he began to relax. He inhaled the familiar scent of
ama
cigarette wafting from Kalaes’ old sweater.
No danger
.

Kalaes released him and turned his face away, but not before Elei caught a glimpse of wet lashes.

Maera appeared at the door, smiling, hands on her hips. “See? Told you he’s alive.”

She pulled them both inside and pushed Kalaes onto a battered couch. His cheeks were too pale, his eyes too large. She dragged Elei away, into a tiny kitchen and thrust a chipped red mug into his hands. “Make him drink it,” she whispered. “It’ll do him good.”

“This your place?”

“Yeah.”

He sniffed the mug. From what looked like innocent tea rose a cloud of alcohol, so strong his eyes watered. “What’s wrong with him?”

Her smile faltered, then returned. “Now, nothing. You’re fine. He thought you died. He took it very badly. Almost destroyed my kitchen.”

Shards littered a corner. A broken chair had been shoved to the wall. Elei opened his mouth and then closed it again, confused.

 “You see, there’s a good reason Kalaes stopped taking in strays.” She turned to push some dishes farther back on a shelf and stayed still, giving him her back.

“What reason?” Elei swallowed hard. “Were they too much trouble?” 

“Trouble? No. It’s not that.” She raised her hand and straightened one of the dishes. “It’s just that the ones Pelia left with him... he lost them.”

“Lost them?” Elei’s stomach cramped, distracting him, and he grimaced, waiting for the pain to pass.

“They were sick. He couldn’t save them. Two died of a parasite plague. The third went out despite Kalaes’ warnings and got shot down in a street fight. Kalaes had been at work. The guilt almost killed him. And now you were under his care and he thought he’d lost you, too.”

Elei ducked his head, then looked up as she turned slowly, her eyes boring into his.

“He swore never to take in another stray,” she said. “But this morning, when I called him, he told me he was going to buy a mattress.”

“Kalaes wanted a mattress?” He couldn’t follow. The headache was back with a vengeance and his gut ached fiercely.

“Elei, I swear, do I have to spell it out for you?” Maera tsked and shook her head. Then she glanced at her watch, gave a horrified little squeak and brushed past him. He turned to see her pick up a brown cloth bag from a shelf and reach up to pat her curls, frowning hard. She darted into the bedroom, stood by the couch for a second and placed a hand on Kalaes’ shoulder. “I’m going to work. See you guys in the morning.”

She came back, winked at Elei and hurried to the door, boots thumping on the floor.

Elei rushed after her just as she opened the door. “Maera, what did Kalaes want the mattress for?”

“For you, silly! Until you found a job and got a place of your own.” She snorted. “You’re in Kalaes’ gang now.”

Elei blinked. “I thought he wasn’t happy having me there.”

She laughed softly as she stepped out. “You can’t read people very well, can you, Elei?”

Elei shrugged. He looked down at the mug in his hands. Obviously not.

Then why did he want to smile?

Chapter
Thirteen

E
lei
entered Maera’s narrow living room with its bare concrete walls, cradling the steaming mug in his hands. The liquid sloshed over the brim and scalded his fingertips, but he didn’t care. Biting his lower lip, he shuffled to the yellow, threadbare couch where Kalaes sat, hands hanging limp between his knees. His dark hair stuck out more than usual, as if Kalaes had tried to tear it all out.

Elei sat next to the older boy and put the mug in his hands. He wanted to ask about the mattress, about all Maera had said, but didn’t know if he was supposed to tell.

Face blank, Kalaes tilted the mug up and gulped down its contents, only to splutter and start coughing a moment later, his eyes watering. “Are you trying to kill me, fe?” he snapped between fits.

Elei shrank back and took a breath to apologize, but Kalaes’ eyes crinkled and one corner of his mouth twitched.

He’s only joking
. Elei breathed a sigh of relief.

Kalaes bent and placed the mug on the floor, still hacking. When he straightened, his eyes grew dark. “I’ve got no apartment anymore, and I’m not even sure I’ve got a job.” He rubbed his face and sighed. “We’re both Maera’s guests now.”

Elei’s heart jolted in his chest. “Your job? Why?” He’d caused Kalaes to lose everything. Not even two days after he’d first arrived to his home, Elei had destroyed Kalaes’ life. The guilt rushed back in, burning a hole in his stomach.

“I took the day off work. But the boss somehow found out about the attack, got scared the Gultur might connect him to me and come knocking on his door. He called me, told me to take a few days off. I have a feeling he won’t take me back.” Kalaes sat straighter, his face earnest. His hands clenched on his thighs. “How did you escape? When I saw what happened, I was sure… I was sure you were dead.” He jumped to his feet and started to pace, gesticulating wildly. “I expected to find your body in the kitchen, thrown in the hallway, burnt black. And when I didn’t find you, I was sure they’d taken you.” He dropped his hands, cocked his head to the side. “How in the hells did you escape?”

“Cronion. It sensed danger.” Elei shrugged. “I left soon after you’d gone to work. Never even saw it happen.”

“That’s just…” Kalaes took a shaky breath. “How did cronion know? Did you see or hear anything odd?”

Elei thought about it. “I heard helicopters and planes gather. I smelled burnt
dakron
.” He frowned, debated telling Kalaes that he’d seen nothing in the sky when he’d looked up.

Kalaes shook his head. “Looks like you barely made it out, fe.”

Elei was looking for an answer to that, when a knock reverberated on the metallic door.

Both of them had their guns out and pointing before the second knock came.

Kalaes edged closer to the door and clicked on his sonic gun. “Who is it? What do you want?”

“Are you Kalaes Ster?” A woman’s sonorous voice, a voice used to commanding. “I am looking for a young man called Eles. Let me in, it is important.”

Elei’s knees went weak. A wave of cold washed up his back, until the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Was this the woman who had sought him out before?

Kalaes gazed at Elei, his lips white, but his aim steady on the door. The hum of the sonic gun filled Elei’s ears. “I don’t know who you are. Go away.”

“Listen, there are people out there searching for him. The ones who burned your apartment. They’ll kill you if they find you. Open this door; I can help.”

Kalaes’ gun wavered. Elei shifted his weight. Cronion made his heart jump in his chest, but didn’t send him running. Who could she be? How could he trust her words?

He called out, “Who are you? How can you help?”

“I’m Hera. I sought you before, at Kalaes’ apartment, but did not find you. Come on, let me in, I do not have all day, and neither do you.” She spoke like a foreigner, her words clear and correct but the phrasing oddly stilted and her accent lilting. “I know who is after you. They might have followed me. Or you.”

Elei stared into Kalaes’ eyes. There was indecision there, and curiosity, and fear.

“Fine,” Kalaes said. “We got two guns pointing at you, so don’t try anything, all right? I’m opening the door now.”

He unlocked it, one-handed, and pulled it open.

“About time,” the woman growled and pushed Kalaes aside, heedless of the gun aimed at her chest. The door closed behind her. She was younger than he’d imagined from the commanding tone of her voice, maybe younger than Kalaes. She turned to Elei who backed away, his finger twitching on the trigger. “I have been looking all over for you. You almost got yourself killed today. They’ll search until they find you and then they’ll surely kill you. You must flee.”

Flee? What did she think he’d been doing? He pulled back his lips, baring his teeth at her. A scent of ripe fruit filled his senses. He sniffed. A fainter smell of flowers laced it. She smelled so damn good.

“What’s it to you?” he asked, proud his voice didn’t break.

Her body flashed in colors in his tainted eye, but they were unlike anything he’d ever seen before, blues and greens and a muted orange — cooler in temperature than any body he’d ever set eyes on. He fought to see the surface, to stop thinking of her as a moving target for his Rasmus. He blinked and willed cronion to pull back.

She was beautiful, her features fine, her eyes large, her dark hair coiled in a braid around her head. She wore a suit of
polyesthene
, smooth and gray, and there was the bulge of a long-gun at her side.

He licked dry lips. “Why do you offer help?”

“I want to see Pelia win this one. And I want to see the Gultur fall.”

Elei’s cronion-controlled eye twitched, but the colors didn’t return. Instead, Hera wavered in his eyes and a spasm of pain shot down his gut, so sharp he ground his teeth not to whimper. This wasn’t the usual twinge of telmion, dammit. Whatever it was, it would only get worse.

“You’re with the Undercurrent,” Kalaes breathed and moved closer to Hera, his gun aiming now higher, at her head. “Leave us out of this.”

Undercurrent. The rebels.

“Sorry.” She sneered. “You’re too far in already. Did you know, Eles, that the Gultur have been keeping tabs on Pelia for years now? Did you know that Falx and his men work for them? Pelia knew and kept her secrets well.”

Shocked, Elei lowered his gun and she brushed it aside with a negligent sweep of her hand. “You’re saying the Gultur are the ones after me? The ones who killed Pelia?”

Hera nodded.

Dammit
. Another spasm squeezed his stomach and the pain shot through his body in a rippling wave. He ignored it, set his jaw and took aim again, scowling. “And what about you?” His finger caressed the trigger, eager to press.

“Kalaes said it. I’m with the Resistance.” She flashed a sharp, dangerous smile, her eyes going narrow and flat. “You must leave Aerica, today, now.”

“How?” Kalaes grinned and it was just as frightening.

“I can provide you with transport.”

“And Maera? What will they do if they find her here?”

She turned her dark gaze to him and Kalaes flinched. “The girl? All they want is Eles. But if they think she knows something…”

She let that flap in the air like a red flag.

“They may have seen us together.” Elei gritted his teeth. “How did you find us?”

“You think you’re hiding here?” She laughed drily. “Come on. She’s the girlfriend of Kalaes Ster, your contact. Not difficult. Look. They may think you died in the apartment. But sooner or later they’ll check the building again and they’ll find your footprints in the soot, like I did.”

Elei shuddered.

“Why should we trust you?” Kalaes snapped.

“I’m the only one who can help you.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes slitting. “Be grateful I came.”

Kalaes huffed. “You think it’s so easy to leave? And go where?”

“Far from here.” She turned back to Elei and gave him a long, appraising look. “Where do you have it hidden?”

He blinked. “What?”

Kalaes pushed his gun against her side, a flush of anger on his cheekbones. The two thin braids hanging over his ear swung forward and their metal rings clinked. “So this is why you’re here. You want this thing, whatever it is, for yourself.”

“Whatever it is?” She let out a bark of laughter. “You do not know?”

Kalaes looked from her to Elei and back, shoulders stiffening. “Elei, you said you didn’t—”

 “I don’t know what it is.” Cramps tore through Elei’s stomach like knives and he curled an arm around his middle. “I swear.”

“But you must know,” Hera’s voice grew shrill, “you must have it.”

Kalaes growled. “Have what? Explain what you mean and quit playing around.”

“Do not tell me what to do!” she snapped back. “This is some joke. The Gultur religious police are hunting for you, all the spies outside the walled city are combing the island. And here you are, claiming not to know what they want you for.”

Things made no sense. Elei’s stomach cramped again, forcing a gasp from his lips. “I don’t know. Honest.”

“She must have at least told you where to find the shipment.” Hera thrust her chin forward, but her lips trembled. “She must have told you something.”

“I said I don’t know.” His insides knotted in a vicious twist, driving the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees, barely feeling the impact through his bones, and the gun slid from his hand to the floor. Sourness burned the back of his throat and filled his mouth. He gagged.

“Elei?” Kalaes took a step toward him, eyes wide, his gun still trained on the woman. “Are you okay?”

“Hey, what is this?” She prodded Elei’s leg lightly with the toe of her shoe. “Get up, Eles — Elei — whatever your name is. Do not tell me you’re sick!”

She sounded really annoyed, and Elei would have laughed if he could. He wondered which of all his parasites, major and minor, were fighting in his body now. Then all thought fled as bile rose in his throat and he bent over, vomiting in great heaves.

“Dammit, Elei.” Kalaes’ voice cracked as he took a step toward Hera. “What the hells are they after? Hera, you’d better start talking. You’ve got five seconds.”

She barely moved, but the long-gun was in her hand and pointing at Kalaes’ head. “I said stop ordering me around, boy. I proposed to help you, never said you would be my boss. I have waited all my life for this moment, only to find out that the stupid boy knows nothing.”

“You seem a little upset,” Kalaes observed in a flat voice. “Who invited you here anyway?”

Elei’s chest burned and his throat was full of acid, but he reached out to grab Kalaes’ leg. What was he doing? She’d kill them both.

She huffed. “Should I really believe that the boy remembers nothing? I cannot believe I said I’ll help you. You’re a waste of my time.”

“Hey, who asked you?” Kalaes snapped.

“I need to know where the shipment is. I cannot let it fall in the hands of others.” She shook her head and holstered her weapon. “I just have to hope Pelia knew what she was doing. I’ll give you a vehicle for your escape.”

She threw Kalaes a flat key. He reacted too late, failed to catch it, and it clattered to the floor. “You’ll find the aircar behind the food processing factory, hidden underneath a camo sheet. The number is on the key. I entered a permit for it in the system, to allow you passage through the Aerica checkpoint. Keep out of sight, remain calm and you should pass without a problem. As for what they want…” She bared her white teeth in a hard smile. “Something the Gultur will kill to possess. Something that frightens them. And you know where it is.”

She turned on her heel, moving without a sound, and left the apartment.