Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) (65 page)

She laughed, a tinkle of glass. “Better if you don’t kiss me, better this way. What you don’t try won’t hurt you, don’t you see?”

He shook his head, still reaching for her. Her lips looked so soft, softer than sleep. “I want to try. With you. Just one kiss.”

Her eyes glittered like gems. “One kiss and then what?”

“Then...” Was there anything else after a kiss? Wasn’t that the end of the road, the end of the world? “What then?”

“You get hurt,” she said and squinted, taking aim, “and then you’ll wish you were dead. So I’ll save you the pain and make it quick.”

Fear filled his stomach like acid, because kissing her was a need that burned in the marrow of his bones. “No, Alendra, wait!”

Unheeding, she smiled and pulled the trigger. “You’ll thank me later,” she whispered as the bullet flew true and slammed into his chest.

“No!” He jerked and shuddered, tried to shift away from the pain he knew would come but couldn’t move, his limbs like stones, meant to drag him down, down deep. “Alendra!” Please don’t.

“I’m here,” she said, very close to his ear. “Calm down.”

His blood pounding in his head, he opened his eyes and saw her small face framed in darkness. “Alendra?” he whispered.

A slight weight on his shoulder turned out to be her hand, holding him securely. He sat up, a crick in his neck where he had propped himself against the tent pole. His arm throbbed beneath the bandage. He drew a shaky breath, but found he didn’t know what to say.

The boat bumped against the waves, its engine whirring softly, and a cold breeze sliced through his hoodie. Her hand was the only spot of warmth in the world.

She withdrew it, and her lips curled in a rueful smile. “I thought...” She laughed softly. “I thought you were having a nightmare. Sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” He stumbled over the words, missing her hand on his shoulder, but not knowing how to get it back. “I was. Having a nightmare, that is.”

“Were you?” She looked down at her lap. “You were calling out my name. Was I some kind of monster in your dream?”

Still tangled in the sticky webs of sleep, he struggled to separate dream from waking. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

He glanced around, trying to ground himself in what was real. Kalaes slept, lying on his side on the bench across from them. Sacmis slept sitting, her sandy head propped on Hera’s shoulder. Fast asleep, Hera had an arm around Sacmis, head tipped back against the other pole. The boatman stood behind the wheel, a dark shape cut from the night.

What had the dream been trying to tell him?

“Were you keeping watch?” he asked Alendra, unable to answer his own thoughts.

“I was.” She gave that tiny smile again and he ached with the desire to cup her face and touch her uptilted lips. She was like daylight, bright and warm.

Just listen to yourself
. Kalaes had said it: he hardly knew her.

Then again, she’d walked with him in the face of danger, held his hand and stayed with him when she could’ve fled. How much more did one need to claim they knew someone? Was it time that mattered or what one did with every passing moment? Did she need him like he needed her? Could he ever ask her that?

“Sleep,” he said with a sigh. “My turn to keep watch.”

“No, it’s okay,” she muttered. “I can’t sleep. Strung too high, I guess.”

Again he longed to reach out and stroke her face. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me back at the safe house, when I was sick?” No sooner had the words left his mouth than he stopped, horrified. “Oh, shit. Forget I asked. Just forget it.”

She glanced up, a sad look on her face. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He swallowed hard. What had come over him, dammit?

“Elei...” She drew a knee up to her chest and laced her arms around it. She rested her chin on top and half-closed her eyes. The night was dark, the moon had set, but he could see her as if it was day — every detail from her smooth cheeks to her arched brows. “I never apologized for the way I treated you before.”

He realized he was gaping and forced his mouth shut.

“I know Hera told you about the telmion plague that took away my family. You said you understood, but it still doesn’t excuse...” She puffed out a soft breath and rubbed her chin on her knee like a cat. “I had no right to treat you badly, especially when you were down and hurt.”

He realized he’d forgotten how to breathe, and he gulped in a lungful of air.

“It’s just that I hadn’t seen snakeskin on anyone since the plague,” Alendra continued. “Or on anyone not dying horribly. I was afraid I’d watch you die. Watch all of us die.”

Elei nodded. He wanted to take her hand and squeeze it, to tell her nobody would die — but it’d be a lie, with the five of them on this crazy mission. And besides... Her voice from his dream came back, saying, ‘One kiss and then what?’ and he knew that, deep inside, it wasn’t just the kiss he was worried about. It was every little gesture she allowed him — sitting close to her, her hand on his shoulder, her gaze on him — all he now took for granted, all she could so easily take away again. That would hurt him a hundred times more, now that he had hope.

‘
You’ll thank me later,’
she’d said in the dream, right before she’d killed him. With a sigh, he leaned back, drifting off among shards of dreams and whispered words.

A hand shook him, shattering the images and sounds. “Elei,” Alendra said, her voice rising in excitement. “Look.”

He sat up. Spires loomed across the sea, silvery buildings swathed in haze. The gray pre-dawn dressed them in ghostly splendor. He gripped the edge of the bench, excitement and apprehension twisting his stomach.

Across from him, Kalaes stirred, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. “The island of Ert,” he breathed, brows lifting. “Producer of small industry, seat of the Helike Monastery, nearly as poor as Ost, though damn better looking. Never thought I’d see it with my own eyes.”

Elei sucked a deep breath.
Neither did I
.

Chapter Eleven

T
he coast of
Ert rose in a jagged line of scraggy cliffs where seagulls squawked and falcons whistled. The sea boomed between the rocks, and a beacon flashed in the north.

The boatman circumvented a cape and drove into an open bay. He dropped them off at a deserted pier just as yellow dawn burst in ribbons over the mountaintops of Ker Island across the strait.

Shouldering their backpacks, they hurried down the pier toward the few warehouses lining the shore road, while the boat swerved and shot out toward Ker. The whine of its engine rang too loud, shattering the silence of the island.

Hera led the way, looking confident, Sacmis by her side. Kalaes followed, Alendra matching his pace. Elei hurried after them, last of their group. Guilt nibbled at his consciousness. He’d punched Kalaes. What had gotten into him?

The other boy looked relaxed, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his eyes clear and focused. Something in Elei’s chest unclenched and he drew a deep breath. Kalaes seemed just fine. Whatever medicine he’d stolen had obviously done him good.

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.