Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (46 page)

“Nothing will happen to it.” Hera wiggled her fingers, her eyebrows knitting. “Give me the medallion.”

“First you said it was just a dream, now you want to drop my pendant into hot vinegar—”

“The medallion, Kalaes,” she said with a long-suffering sigh.

Elei could smell her anger rising, hot and sweet, and his stomach cramped again. As he bent over, he wondered if Hera, if Regina, would kill Kalaes. Kill them both.

“Hey, fe.” Kalaes placed a hand on Elei’s shoulder, startling him. “Go to bed.”

“Not yet.” Elei straightened doggedly even if it felt like needles stabbed through his skull. “I need to know first if something’s written on the medallion.”

Kalaes withdrew his hand. “Aren’t you a stubborn one. Fine.” He quirked a rueful grin, lifted the medallion off his neck and dropped it onto Hera’s waiting palm. “Here.”

She huffed, turning, and let it fall into the cup with a quiet splash. Her pale hand with the black lines on its bones shimmered, ghostly. The sound of the medallion clinking inside the ceramic, as she gently swirled the liquid, echoed in Elei’s skull.

Hera peered into the cup and fished out the medallion. She sat down and placed the wet metal on the table. She rubbed it with a towel, her hand trembling slightly.

“What do you see?” Kalaes leaned closer to her. “Hera?”

“I think there is a word on the back.”

Kalaes snagged the pendant and pulled it over. Elei squinted at its now shiny surface.

“Below,” he read. The shape of a mermaid curled decoratively underneath. “What does it mean?”

“Under,” Kalaes said, nodding sagely.

Elei resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, but what did she mean? Under what?”

Kalaes flipped the medallion over to the relief of the Seven Islands. His thumb flicked over their shapes and names, dark brows heavy over his eyes. “This...” he said, his voice a little hoarse, “this...”

Words. Carved around the rim. “What does it say?” Elei whispered.

Kalaes swallowed hard and pushed the medallion toward Elei. His eyes shone a little too bright. “You read it. She asked you to, fe.”

Elei lifted the medallion in his hand. The letters were tiny like dots. “You, of roads and crossways, Of heaven, of earth, and sea as well.” He looked up at the others. “What the hells is this? A poem?”

“The hymn,” Kalaes breathed, eyes comically wide. “I can’t believe it.”

“What hymn?” Elei frowned at him.

“You, the saffron-clad, among the tombs, Dancing with dead souls,” Kalaes whispered. “You, terrible Queen, Devourer of beasts, ungirded, possessed of form unapproachable.”

“How do you know the hymn?” Hera’s breath stuttered, her hands curling. “She taught it to you, did she not?”

Pelia
.

“But what does it mean?” Elei ran his fingertip over the letters and thought he saw Pelia’s face, heard her voice, her laughter. “A hymn about what?”

Kalaes laughed suddenly, a bark of laughter. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He threw his head back and laughed some more, the beads in his braids clinking.

Hera shook her head, wonder lighting her dark eyes.

“What is it?” Elei looked from one to the other, wondering if they were drunk. “Kal?”

“A hymn.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slammed his fist on the table, making dishes and cups jump and vinegar slosh. “To Hecate.”

“Hecate. The Gultur,” Elei turned to Hera, “that you said disappeared.”

“The very same.” She looked at him under lowered lids.

“So the safety box would belong to Hecate.” Elation chased away the pain in his body, in his head, in his heart. “We can find it, see what she left there.”

“Yeah, and how are we going to enter Dakru City?” Kalaes grimaced. “How are we gonna enter under the noses of the pissing Gultur?” He raked a hand through his spiky hair. “Call me a party-pooper, but I kinda think that could be a snag in the plan.”

It finally sank in that Kalaes was talking as if he was going, too. Elei’s mind froze. “Hold on a second. You’re not going. I’m going.” Elei dropped the medallion on the table top and it spun, flashing both sides. “Alone.”

“The hells.” Kalaes threw him a narrow look. “We’re all going.”

“What? No.” The headache was back, pounding on the back of his eyeballs. “You stay here. Or better still, go find your family. I’ll be fine.” He tried to order his thoughts around the headache. “You said it already, you can’t take care of me. And Hera...” He waved a hand. “She has work to do and a life to live. That woman at the hospital...” Why was everything hazy? He scrubbed a hand over his face, tried again. “Sacmis...”

“Are you hallucinating, fe?” Kalaes leaned over, placed a hand on Elei’s forehead. It felt heavenly cool. “You’re running a fever, dammit.”

Elei blinked. “What has this to do with—”

“It’s telmion,” Hera said. “Rex is probably fighting it as we speak. I’ll need to prepare more tea.”

“That vile stuff?” Kalaes gave Elei another long look.

“You need to find your people,” he insisted, “and Hera needs to find—”

“I’m going with you, fe.” Kalaes thumped both fists on the table, scaring the hell out of Elei. The cups jumped and rattled.

“Why?”

Kalaes’ eyes were serious. “Because, if there’s any chance of taking down the Gultur, I’m in. I’ve got a personal debt to settle.”

Hera grinned. “It’s decided then. We’re going with you, Elei. All three of us.”

Alendra, too?
Elei gaped. “But—”

“Although the getting in part seems doubtful, it looks like this chick here,” Kalaes winked at Hera, “has some nifty trick up her sleeve, eh, Hera?”

“Trick?” Hera glared. “It is no trick. It’s knowledge.”

“Oh? Then fill us in, wise one.” Kalaes leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re all ears.”

“The sewers.” Hera’s lips stretched into a smug smile. “Sure and tried way into any city.”

“Sewers?” Elei frowned. “We fit inside?”

“I should’ve seen this coming.” Kalaes groaned. “Stinky, slimy tunnels, crawling with roaches and rats. Pure joy.”

Even as Elei wondered when Kalaes had been inside the sewers before, he was too shocked to think past the fact that Kalaes, Hera and Alendra were joining him on a mission into Dakru City, the Gultur lair, based on something he’d remembered in a dream.

Madness
.

***

Madness
. Hera relaxed slightly. That was familiar territory — going after an elusive clue when nothing else seemed to work. She did not dare contact the Undercurrent for help, not for this. They’d tell her no, that going after a dream was stupid. But what did they know?

If she’d stopped looking for Elei after the shooting that killed Pelia, the regime would not have been destabilized and any chance at bringing down the government would have been lost.

Then again...
Project Siren
. Hera took a deep breath. She’d found references to it when she started to investigate the origins of the Seven Islands, prompted by her dreams. The name had popped up in several files, but nobody ever explained what the project was supposed to investigate.

She kept seeing the mermaid carved under the word
‘Below’
on the back of the medallion.
A coincidence?
She had never met Pelia in person, only by phone and through others, but she felt Pelia would not leave anything to coincidence when it came to the medallion and the clues she’d left behind.

But what did she mean? What was the connection? Hera had looked in every archive she’d had access to, trying to find out more about the project. Iliathan, her mortal contact, had confirmed it was connected to the origin of the world.

But it was practically impossible to uncover anything, apart from what Iliathan had provided. Yet, in this top secret project led by the Gultur, Hera had found a mention of Pelia’s name.

Another coincidence?

Focus,
hatha. She should not be thinking of the Project Siren, she should be concentrating on entering Dakru City, on recalling the route through the sewers and which exit to take, where to find the chamber for washing up and changing clothes. If only nothing had changed. If nobody had followed them.

If she did not fail in her task.

She would not.
Not this time
.

Chapter
Sixteen

T
he rest of
the day went by in a blur. Kalaes insisted on dragging Elei to bed and his head pounded so hard he’d gone along. Besides, he was still shocked that Pelia’s words from his dream could be true, and just as much that Kalaes and Hera wanted to accompany him.

Alendra’s voice rang from the kitchen, angry and loud at first, protesting, then low and grumbling. She wasn’t happy about going. Elei couldn’t blame her. He’d have to talk to Kalaes about this. Why not leave her here? Or send her to wherever she wanted to go?

One thing was clear in his mind. He couldn’t let anyone accompany him. He had to keep the others safe.

He only hoped Pelia had some important information in that safety box. Information important enough to risk his life for it. Something that could really bring the Gultur down.

His Rasmus lay next to his pillow. He’d put it there, needing it close.
Stupid need
. Somehow it felt like his only link to reality. But reality kept finding its way into his dreams. Pelia. Hecate. A goddess. A box and a medallion, a gun and a number. His birthday. The pier. The sea.

The wave rose and covered him. Forms swam in the blue, half woman, half fish. Mermaids. They grabbed him, dragged him lower, to dark depths where only their eyes were visible, like stars, and the shiny scales on their arms and tails. Then they opened mouths full of razor-sharp teeth and snapped at him, tearing shreds out of him, tearing him to pieces, and he couldn’t move, only writhe under the onslaught as he died again and again.

A hand shook him. A woman’s voice said, “Elei.”

The distorted faces of the mermaids broke and the pieces drifted apart. Elei blinked at Hera’s face.

“What?” he asked, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Sweat had soaked his pillow.

“Your fever has broken, at last.” She was bent over him, so close he could see the green in her dark eyes. “You were out all night and most of the day.”

Crap
. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“You needed to rest.” She placed a bottle of water and a plate with two slices of bread topped with ham next to his pillow. “Now drink and eat something.” She straightened, one hand on the longgun holstered at her hip. “We should go.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying. “Go?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “How do you feel?”

Feeble as a kitten and light-headed, but he’d be damned before he told her that. “Fine. Listen, Hera.” He sat up, bent his head until the world stopped spinning. “Just listen. I’ll go. Stay. It’s a mad chase. Maybe there’s nothing there. Just tell me how to enter Dakru City and the Palace, and I’ll do it.”

He looked up and recoiled at the fire in her eyes.

“No,” she said with finality. “We’re going together.”

”Why?” He snapped his mouth shut before he said anything else, and stared at her instead, daring her to explain.

“Because.” She clucked her tongue. “If Pelia left information behind, it must be important. Hecate was high elite. If Pelia knew her, she must have possessed important insider information to the Gultur system. We need to obtain it. And we’re in this together.”

He threw the covers off, shivering. “Regina wants to kill me, Rex wants to kill you. You don’t want to be around me.”

“I’ll take the risk if you take it. Listen to me.” She leaned over him, her sweet smell of flowers making his mouth water. “We do not know what will happen, but I’m not letting you go alone. Not again.”

He frowned at her. “You didn’t—”

“I failed you twice.” Her eyes shimmered with colors, and he sat paralyzed by the emotion he saw in them — not anger, not impatience or doubt, but sadness. “Regina pushes me to kill, but I protect my own. And, mark my words, you are my own. You’re my friend and I do care for you. I’ve watched you come near death too many times in the little time I have known you.” She looked away, drew a shaky breath. “I will not stay away. I will be there when you need me.”

Before he could absorb this speech, feel the weight of her words, she turned around and walked out of the room.

Elei stared at the opposite wall, stunned. Had Hera said they were friends? His mouth pulled in a silly grin. His chest felt a size too big as he found his feet and limped to the bathroom. He held onto the feeling even as he remembered Regina didn’t care about friendships with mortals.

Besides, that still left Kalaes. Kalaes had to stay behind. Elei’s smile fell and he threw cold water on his face, trying to jump-start his brain.

Clean clothes had been laid out on the other bed — underwear, socks, dark pants and a navy, long-sleeved t-shirt, even boots his size, which he pulled on quickly and with relief. He ate the bread and ham, glad he now could, and drank all the water, feeling marginally better.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found it empty. Voices drifted over from the garage, and he entered, gripping his gun. Alendra was standing at the passenger cabin door, a cloth bag in one hand. Hera reached out to take it, and then they both disappeared inside.

Were they really going to do it? He rubbed his eyes, wondering if this was just another dream, and stepped down into the dimness. Steps echoing in the cavernous space, he approached the aircar. He felt fine, which meant Rex had tamed telmion again, but hopefully the parasite’s hold had weakened.

“Elei!” Hera waved from the deck. “Come on up.”

He hurried over and, stuffing the gun in his belt, climbed up the ladder, reveling in the near absence of pain, at long last. 

Smell of old
nepheline
, dakron fumes, food from the cloth bag Hera now carried, human and Gultur skin. He crossed the cabin where Hera was stowing the bag under a seat and entered the cockpit. Kalaes sat in the driver’s seat, doing a systems check. Alendra sat stiffly in the co-driver seat, and she snapped around when Elei stopped right behind them.

“You...” she started, a muscle quivering in her small jaw. Elei stared at it, fascinated. “We’re going after something that’s only in your head.”

He flinched. “Then why in the hells are you coming along?”

“Because I can’t dissuade them and I won’t let them die. I’m fed up with watching everyone around me die. And this is your fault!”

But he wasn’t angry with her anymore.

“I know now why you hate me so much,” he said, his heart thumping. “It’s okay.”

She gasped, a small fluttering sound, and paled. She turned her face away. “You don’t...”

Elei waited, but she said nothing more. Then she got up, shoved past him and walked out of the cockpit, leaving a trail of sea breeze.

“What’s going on?” Kalaes turned to him, eyebrows raised, green lights from the panel playing on his face. The bruise on his jaw was now a sickly yellow with dark smudges.

“Nothing.” Elei took a deep breath. “Kal, listen. About this,” he gestured at the inside of the cockpit, “this mission, you don’t have to go. Zag—”

“Leave Zag alone,” Kalaes snapped. “He’s in Akert now.”

Elei flinched. “In Akert.” As if that meant anything to Elei. Maybe it was a suburb of Artemisia. “You call out for him in your sleep.”

Kalaes blanched, then lifted his chin, a jerky movement. “I just haven’t had a drink with him in a while. Just... forget it,” he said thickly and turned his back to Elei. “Get ready, we’re leaving.”

Elei told himself to do as Kalaes said, to forget, not to think. With a shrug, an indifference he didn’t feel, he returned to the passenger cabin and took a seat. Cat jumped on him and settled on his shoulder, a small, warm presence. Hera sat in the other seat, longgun lying across her knees, mouth a straight line.

“When we get through the sewers and come out in Dakru City,” he licked his lips, trying to imagine it, “you know, reeking and covered in filth. How in all the hells are we going to get into the Palace? Is there a tunnel leading right underneath it or something?”

“No, I’m afraid not. But there’s a room to wash and change. Do not worry.”

As if he could avoid worrying. After all, he’d decided to go in alone. He needed to know as much as possible about it. “A room, huh? Where’s that?”

“I’ll show you when we get there.” She rubbed the furrow between her brows and Elei wondered if she was fighting a headache. “The tunnels exit inside the Management House.”

“And where’s the Palace?”

“Both buildings are in the old town center. They were built right after the Great War, about five hundred years ago, and renovated with new materials about a hundred years later.” She fell silent for a moment. “The Palace is made of a rock I have not seen anywhere else. Moonstone, it’s called. White and smooth, it reflects the light. Beautiful.”

Elei breathed out, struggling to control his impatience. “But is that building far from the Palace?”

“No. It is not next to it either. We must enter the Palace from the back. We shall take the avenue that leads south, then bypass the Great Square and go around the Palace through the smaller streets.”

“But you have a plan.” When she didn’t answer, he gritted his teeth. “Hera?”

“I thought to pretend I was taking you to work in the Palace kitchens as your
Saew
. Your...” She waved a hand, closing her eyes. “Your custodian.”

“But your face must be plastered on every screen and newsfeed.”

“Yes, there’s that. I need to steal a visor.”

“Right. And then throw grenades, huh? And shoot whoever gets in the way.” He swallowed hard, stroking Cat’s back to distract himself from the gory images that rose and fell on the surface of his mind.

She shrugged.

“Where’s this entrance to the tunnels? It has to be,” he brought up the map of Dakru in his memory, “the town closest to Dakru City.”

She nodded, dark eyes flicking to him, a stray beam of light picking out yellow and green flecks in their cores. “Gortyn.”

He’d seen it on the map, marked with the symbol for the beacon. “That’s the closest entrance?” It’d seemed quite a distance.

“It’s the best for us. It has not been used it for years.” She wet her lips. “It will not be guarded, at least I hope not. With the fighting going on, control should be minimal.”

Should be
. “I didn’t want you all to risk your lives again.”

“But risking yours is fine?” She scowled. “Just shut up, Elei.”

Strangely, that made him smile. He stroked Cat’s head, the purr resonating in his bones. Then Alendra entered from the deck and slammed the door shut behind her. Her cheeks were red, and her gold glass eyes seemed to shed sparks. She stopped a few steps in front of Elei, a small hand pressed to her chest.

Elei cocked his head, expecting some snide remark about Cat or himself, but the silence stretched, a treacherous path. He had to tread it. “What?”

“Nothing.” If anything, the color on her cheeks deepened to crimson and he wondered if she’d break the vessels there.

As if it mattered.

Still she stood there, looking at him, the amber shades in her eyes shifting from dark to bright, condensing into emotions he couldn’t place. But when he took a breath to ask what she wanted, she turned on her heel and headed to the cockpit. The door closed behind her.

Elei released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “What was that about?”

Hera snorted but said nothing, and Elei didn’t get a chance to ask again. The aircar powered up, the window panes rattling, and the garage doors swung open behind them. They backed out into a quiet street of early evening, the yellow and red of the western sky reflected on low houses and agaric groves.

They were in a hamlet. Having slept on their way in, he bent toward the window, curious, and took in the low houses. Dogs barked, and Cat hissed, arching its back. Elei patted Cat’s head absently as they drove through a small agaric grove and rolled between algae ponds that shimmered in the last rays of light.

Cat tried to bite his hand. He pushed back the small snout, stroked the flattened ears. “Sh. Relax, Cat.”

At least one of us should
.