Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles) (11 page)

“Maybe your map is old.”

“Or maybe the regime kept the mine a secret. Strong military presence, I guess?” Mantis asked thoughtfully, pale brows knitting.

“Very.”
Surin
was rare and precious, necessary for isolating dakron reactors. “You were about to send us into a death trap.”

“You would have stopped me, and you did.” He was so damn calm.

Hera’s hands fisted.
Deep breaths,
she told herself. He was right.
Shit.

“Okay, how about we cross through the Asphodel lowlands?” he muttered.

Hera’s sight darkened. “You...”

“Hera’s right, you’re nuts.” Sacmis cast her a warning glance over her shoulder. “They’re not nicknamed the Death Fields for nothing.”

“I knew taking you along was a good idea.” Mantis winked, though his mouth was pinched. “Spill.”

“Swamps with toxic gasses bubbling to the surface.”

“Poisonous?”

“Depends on how much you inhale. Stuporific, for sure, and once you stop moving, you sink into the mud and water, so it does not matter much whether you’re poisoned or drowned.”

 “But I brought masks. This part of the fields is supposed to be drier and not so dangerous, with fewer fumes. If we seal the aircar and move fast...” The look in Mantis’ eyes grew distant.

“The ground is not suitable for the aircar,” Hera snapped. “Too unsteady.”

“It’s a small aircar,” Mantis said. “It could make it. Listen.” His gaze hardened. “We’ve moved too far south to make it to the underground entrance by nightfall, and we’ll need all the time we can get to open it and pull that machine out. And then we’ll need to march to Dakru City. Going through those fields is our only option. There’s a trail.” He tapped the map. “I’ve looked into it.”

Hera grabbed the map from him and he let her, lifting his hands. She studied the area, a drumming in her ears she vaguely recognized as her heartbeat. “We could take the road west up to Irmia, then cut north through the Agaric Alsos.”

 “The Agaric Alsos,” Mantis breathed, his eyes widening. He looked for the first time like the young boy he was. “I’ve never seen it.”

Acres and acres of agaric stalks, a glowing fungi forest in the center of which nestled an abandoned temple. On podding days, the radiance from the giant mushrooms lit up the sky for miles.

“We may yet arrive late,” Sacmis said, her tone dubious. “But it’s certainly better than dying in the Asphodel lowlands.”

“You know better,” Mantis said, his eyes still wide. “The road through the Agaric Alsos it is.”

“You only agreed because you’re dying to see it,” Sacmis grumbled, her mouth twitching in a half-smile.

He shrugged, his eyes hardening. “If we’re throwing ourselves into the regime’s maws, I might as well see it before the end.”

Sacmis drove on as silence spread inside the aircar, Mantis’ last words ringing like bells. Hera did not know what to say, and Mantis did not seem inclined to say anything more.

The quiet pressed on her chest like a tombstone.

They were still moving south, heading toward the crossroads to the western roads. Water shimmered to the side of the road, but also far ahead. Blue algae ponds, most likely, although they were not marked on the map and Hera had no idea they existed so far inland.

She turned her attention back to the map, struggling to remember whether the road beyond the Agaric Alsos might give them any trouble. She could not recall anything of importance in that direction. Reaching the Alsos would take them most of the day. They might hide in the forest until nightfall before approaching the area they wanted.

“Mantis,” Sacmis said, her gaze fixed ahead, “you said back at the farm that we are your hope.”

His mouth curved in a faint smile.

“But now,” Sacmis went on, “you sound as if you have no hope. What changed?”

He chewed on his lower lip and pushed pale hair out of his face. His hands shook slightly, Hera noticed, and her breath caught.

“What’s going on?”

He puffed out a sigh. “Do you see the flatlands to our right?”

Hera wiped the condensation from the glass and stared outside. “Swamps?”

“The Asphodel fields.”

“I did not realize we were so close,” Sacmis muttered.

“We passed the entry point to the trail I told you about.”

Hera frowned at the reflections on the road ahead. “And those ponds?”

Sacmis squinted, leaning forward. “I thought they were ponds, too, but now...”

“Those aren’t ponds.” Mantis stood and placed a hand on Sacmis’ shoulder. “They’re Silver Bullet aircars. I’ve seen them in Abydos over the past week. They’re military.”

Silver Bullets.
Hera had seen them before. A new technology, the regime had proclaimed. Probably a new cache they’d discovered.

“Sobek’s balls,” Sacmis muttered. “And now?”

“The next entry point to a navigable path through the swamps is in half a mile,” Mantis said quietly. “Be ready to turn right.”

“So that’s why...” Hera groaned.

Mantis nodded. “I had hope, until you told me crossing the fields was suicide.”

Dammit.
Hera shot to her feet and set about closing the windows. “Can this aircar be sealed?”

“I’ve brought
nepheline
tape.” Mantis brandished a brown roll.

“Frigid hells.” Hera caught the roll he threw at her. “We’ll cross the Death Fields protected by a roll of rotten tape?”

“That or hold your breath for a couple of hours.”

Something clinked on the aircar wall, then again.

“They’re firing,” Sacmis ground out.

“Turn now,” Mantis said. “No other choice.”

Because if the bullets did not kill them, they’d puncture the aircar, turning it into a sieve, and no amount of tape would suffice to seal the deadly fumes out.

“Hold on,” Sacmis said grimly. “It will be a bumpy ride.”

As a metaphor for their lives, Hera thought, cutting tape with her teeth and sticking it to every seam and crack she could find, a bumpy ride was surely apt.

Chapter Eight

The wind whistled between the storehouses and dilapidated buildings, carrying the noise of traffic from the avenues and the voices of port workers working late into the night.

Elei walked alongside Alendra but watched at Kalaes who hurried a few steps ahead with Dain and Zoe. The things he’d said... What did Kalaes mean when he said Elei had taken him in? He couldn’t figure it out, but it made him feel warm.

Alendra elbowed him and he realized he was grinning. He shook his head and ducked his chin, trying to sober up.

Important stuff to do, aircars to steal... A world to save and promises to keep. He thought he could do that, felt in his bones that it might be possible.

Knew he ought to be scared shitless but felt nothing but elation.

The glidecraft was hidden in a fenced back-alley full of junk. Zoe flicked off the camo cover and climbed inside, then turned and gave a thumbs-up.

“Good to go,” she said, taking the driver’s seat and inserting the key. The vehicle rumbled to life, the old engine coughing and sputtering. “We’ll head toward Aerica, to find aircars.”

The glidecraft was a small, open vehicle, mostly used for transportation of goods. They all crammed on top, huddling on the transport space that creaked with every movement. Alendra sat next to Zoe in the only other available seat and hid her bright hair under her hood, her cat-like eyes sliding toward him with a hint of a smile.

A smile for him. If only he could stop time...

But they were underway, the narrow glidecraft rising off the ground with a loud hum and moving out of the alley. Dain hopped off to close the gate, then jumped back on and gestured at Zoe to go. They pulled the camo over them, sitting still and barely breathing in the darkness.

They glided through the streets with the honks and whirring of aircars, the voices of people and the bitter stench of burnt dakron. A dog yowled as they took a sudden turn, and Elei held onto Kalaes’ arm not to topple over. How much time did they have? Would they make it to their meeting point in time?

The din of a busy avenue rose around them and they hunched down. Dain was whispering to himself. Maybe it was a prayer. Red sparkled over his chest and head, and the medal hanging from Kalaes’ neck was a cool blue. Kalaes’ harsh panting told Elei his Rex was active, too.

Well, hi, brother.

The glidecraft wobbled, jostling them, and the voices from the street grew louder. A woman was yelling, dogs were barking, and a whiff of sweetness hit Elei’s nose.

Gultur.

“What’s going on?” Kalaes hissed, lifting the tarp to have a look.

“Stay down,” Zoe whispered. “Looks like a blockade.”

“Holy Hells,” Dain muttered.

Elei’s head buzzed like a hive and cold sweat rolled down his back, drenching his t-shirt. “Where are we?”

“City center,” Kalaes said. He peeked from under the tarp again. “There’s some sort of religious procession.”

“Are they checking vehicles?”

Kalaes let the tarp fall. “Yeah.”

Dammit.
Elei realized he was gripping the handle of his gun and released it. Shooting wouldn’t do any good.

Hear that, Rex?

The vehicle slowed to a stop and Alendra hopped off. Her scent wafted under the tarp a moment before she lifted it and gestured for them to come out.

“What’s happening?” Dain whispered.

Alendra squinted. “Go with Zoe to get the aircars. We’ll meet at the agreed place and time. We’ll find another way to join you.”

Elei slid down the side of the vehicle, landing in a crouch, boots thumping on asphalt. Kalaes and Dain followed, peering around the glidecraft, hands on the grips of their guns.

“Yeah, no way can we pass undetected,” Kalaes grumbled. 

A gray Gultur temple rose in the square, a faceless blank box of a building, reminiscent of a hospital or a storehouse. The streets around it were blocked and patrols were checking the vehicles, the visors of the patrolwomen reflecting the light from the lampposts.

Kalaes was staring at the temple. A shudder went through him, and after taking a better look, Elei knew why.

Echoes, Gultur princesses, their tall bodies pulsing a golden orange. As he watched, their faces lengthened into animal muzzles, leering at him.

Kill them. Kill them all.

They lined before their temple, holding trays that Rex saw as a dull blue. Their chanting rose and fell on the air like a glittering wave. A ceremony of some kind, and he remembered with a thrill of horror the first he’d observed when he’d arrived in Dakru weeks back. The offerings, the singing — the shots, the blood, the bodies.

A group of mortals lined up by the side of the temple, pulsing the normal color range — red and crimson with yellow marking their limbs. Children and adults.

“They’ll kill them,” he breathed and started forward, only to be brought short by a hand grabbing his jacket.

Kalaes yanked him back down. “Are you mad, fe? What are you rambling about?”

“Let me go, they’ll kill them.” Elei twisted, trying to break free. He’d be damned before he sat there and watched the Gultur slaughter these people. “I’ve seen them kill men, I won’t stand by and watch.”

“These aren’t victims,” Dain hissed. “They’re initiates.”

Elei blinked, sitting back down. “They’re what?”

“Initiates.”

“Hey Dain.” Zoe chewed on a braid, eyes intent on the blockade ahead. “Hurry, will you?”

“What do you mean?” Elei demanded.

“They’re mortals who want to join the Gultur,” Dain said, skirting the glidecraft and climbing in next to Zoe. “To worship Regina.”

“Son of a bitch,” Kalaes muttered, and Elei couldn’t agree more.

“See you in a couple hours,” Zoe said and waved. She could go through the checkpoint; her face wasn’t on every poster in town, lucky girl. “Stay alive, you hear?”

“We’ll do our best. Don’t leave without us, yeah?” Kalaes waved back. “We’ll find you.”

The glidecraft engine rumbled, then the thrusters kicked in and it rolled down the street, joining the line of aircars to be checked by the patrol.

Alendra sidled behind a parked aircar, gesturing for them to follow. They hid and waited as the ceremony began.

***

“What in the five hells are they doing?” Kalaes whispered as they crouched behind a dumpster, watching as the ceremony reached its climax and a Gultur princess fed the gathered mortals small white nuggets.

“Infecting them?” Alendra hazarded.

“No way would they survive that. Must be something else they’re giving them.”

The princess placed her hands on their cheeks and kissed their foreheads.

Elei shuddered. What was she giving them? Maggots? Moldy food? Another disease?

“Why would they want to be part of that church?” Alendra puffed in frustration and pulled her hood lower. “Why would they need Regina’s blessings? I don’t get it.”

“Pissing idiots.” Kalaes leaned forward, sticking his head out so far Elei reached out to pull him back. “Wait.” Kalaes resisted the tug on his arm, and a pissing patrol was crossing the avenue, dammit.

“Kal, get back here,” Elei hissed.

“It’s the flashes.” Kalaes’ voice was thin and strained. “I can see them.”

“Have you lost it completely?” Alendra grabbed Kalaes’ other arm and hauled him behind the dumpster as the rhythmic steps of the patrol thumped by. Thank the gods they had no
molosse
dogs with them.

Elei watched them go, tapping their batons on their thighs, their faces hidden behind the shiny masks, their long hair swinging against their backs. “What in the hells were you doing, Kal?”

“The flashes!” Kalaes waved his hands in the air, dark eyes shining.

Okay, now was not the time to go completely round the bend. “What about them?”

“I know what they are.” Kalaes leaned back, propping his head on the dirty wall, his hood slipping off. “What they mean.”

“Did you have a religious experience? An epiphany?” Alendra sighed. “Come on, man, spit it out. What did you see?”

“Where the Gultur touch.” Kalaes rubbed his face with both hands. His dark hair stuck out in all directions. “Their fingertips leave these glowing marks. And they all have different colors and textures.  It’s pissing amazing.” 

Elei gaped. “How?”

“How would I know?” Kalaes splayed his hands wide. “A residue? Glow-in-the-dark-proof-a-Gultur-has-pissing-touched-you sort of thing?”

“Wait a minute,” Alendra muttered. “You said Iliathan, Mitt and his girls had these flashes on their skin?”

“They did, but it was... a different pattern. Holy demons in the deep.” Kalaes huffed. “Iliathan’s skin was flashing all over, his face, his neck, his arms...”

Elei frowned. “And Mitt and his girls?”

“Their face only. Their cheeks and forehead.”

“But that’s where the Echoes are touching and kissing...” Elei swallowed hard. “Mitt and his girls are initiates?”

“Damn them,” Alendra muttered, her eyes wide. “What were they thinking?”

Yeah.
And it still didn’t explain Iliathan’s different pattern. Because it sounded too much like... No, couldn’t be. Gultur didn’t like men that way.

 “You were right,” Elei whispered. “Mitt and his girls are the ones who betrayed us.”

Rex, you divine son of a bitch. No wonder it was said to be a King. With every new bonding it seemed to become a different but just as efficient asset.

Sugarsugarsugar
, his mind chanted.
Need sugar.

He stared at his shaking hands, not really seeing them — seeing his pulse jump in bursts of gold.
Rex.
Efficient. Useful. If it didn’t kill you, of course.

“If Iliathan betrayed us, he knows exactly what we’re about to do,” Alendra said.

“Not exactly.” Elei had to grin a little at that. “They’ll be waiting for us, but we won’t show up.” A good thing they hadn’t trusted Iliathan with the truth.

“Why in the hells was he glowing all over?” Kalaes sighed. “It’s as if a Gultur had her paws all over him.”

Elei raised his hand, tilted his head to the side. Distant shouts, running footsteps, a thunk like a body dropping, an aircar engine revving up.

“Something’s happening.” Kalaes peered around the dumpster. “A fight?”

“Are they killing people?” Alendra puffed in annoyance. “I can’t see or hear a thing. I’m a mere mortal, after all.”

Elei looked at her, trying to gauge from her expression whether she was upset or teasing, but Kalaes shoved him back and he fell against the wall.

“Gods dammit, they’re heading this way!” Kalaes pulled Alendra to her feet and started to run.

Elei blinked, then his brain caught up and he surged to his feet, taking off after them.

Kalaes hauled Alendra around the corner, then stopped. “Elei!”

“I’m right behind you,” Elei called out. “Go!”

Kalaes raced on across one street into another, his hood flapping on his back. Alendra’s pale hair streaked behind her like a banner, and Elei followed.

In an alley, street kids were gathered around a fire in a barrel, warming their hands; he caught a glimpse of small, curious faces as he pounded by. Shouts rang behind him and he cursed, turning into another alley. Kalaes and Alendra were racing ahead, silhouettes blending with the night.

A stitch in his side, his back a swath of pain, he ran after them, his boots ringing on the asphalt. The hood constricted his vision so he threw it back, his heartbeat hammering in every limb, drumming against his ribs. He raced down the next street, bypassing a telespeak booth with a line of people waiting, almost crashing into a guy coming out of a diner, ducking to avoid a clumsy grab for his arm.

Arms wrapped around him in a crushing vise, lifting him off his feet, and a male voice growled in his ear, “Going somewhere, kid?”