Author: Chrystalla Thoma
Date: 2013-10-09 07:00:00+00:00
Publisher: eBook (Kindle)

Rex Aftermath

Full Circle

There is war on the Seven Islands. Elei and his friends have unlocked the weapons held underground, but the Gultur regime is not so easily put down. Mantis and his ragtag army of kids need all the help they can get. Elei, Kalaes and Alendra return to Artemisia to create a diversion, while Hera, Sacmis and Mantis attack Dakru City, in a final attempt to bring peace. But with a net of betrayal closing around them and Rex set against Regina in a final confrontation, the price might prove too heavy.

Rex Equilibrium © Copyright 2012 by Chrystalla Thoma

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Go here for the Table of Contents

Cover design by Chrystalla Thoma.

Photo: Michael Whyte, used with permission.

Model: Jack Martinelli
http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

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“The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.

If it had been possible he would have settled the matter otherwise, and without bloodshed. He doesn't boast of his own death or of others’.

But he does not repent.”

Umberto Eco

To peace

Not a dedication: a wish.

Acknowledgments

Huge thanks to Claire Bugler Hewitt and Arlene Webb for their help and enthusiasm. Also a big thank you also goes to my group ‘Writers Cubed’ for their constant support.

Many thanks also to my readers for inquiring after my heroes’ wellbeing and for demanding they have a happy ending.

Chapter One

Cold wind whipped empty cartons through the alley and made tins roll and clink. Elei shivered in his jacket, hands shoved in his pockets, his Rasmus a comforting weight at his hip. The ancient semi-automatic, a present from Pelia, was the only thing left from his past.

Then again... He lifted a hand to his throat, to the necklace of black dots, mark of Rex, his dominant parasite. Yeah. The gun hadn’t been Pelia’s only gift, and the snakeskin on his cheek was yet another reminder of his past. A memento of the constant battle raging inside him between Rex and telmion, the two parasites too busy fighting each other to kill him — on most days, at least.

Across from Elei, Kalaes leaned against a grimy wall covered in peeling posters, his arms folded across his chest, eyes half-closed. The fine white lines of palantin marked the side of his neck, stopping at the black dots of Rex, and his dark hair stood in defiant spikes, barely ruffled by the wind. He would’ve seemed relaxed to anyone who didn’t know him.

“Anything yet?” Alendra hunkered down by Kalaes’ feet, checking her gun, hair catching the afternoon light in a bright halo.

“Nothing this way,” Kalaes muttered.

Elei peered around the corner into the other street and shook his head. They were relying on Mantis’ contacts to meet the most important street gang leaders of Artemisia, or at least those willing.

“Are you sure they’re coming?” Alendra clicked the safety of her gun on and lifted her cat-like eyes.

Kalaes huffed and closed his eyes as if about to take a nap as he stood there. “If not, I’ll spank them. In fact I’ll let you do it, if you beg nicely.”

Alendra snorted.

Elei poked his head out into the street once more, checking, but it was empty. He retreated into the alley.

“And what happens if they don’t want to join us?” Alendra whispered, voicing Elei’s fears. She stood and holstered her gun, her movements jerky.

What if the street kids didn’t help them create a distraction so Mantis and his ragtag army, together with Hera and Sacmis, could take hold of the war machine they’d found underground in the north of Dakru and set up the real attack?

“They will,” Kalaes said, his dark eyes opening, scanning the street on his side, his expression betraying no impatience, fear or anger. “Relax.”

Footsteps sounded and Rex thrummed at the back of Elei’s possessed eye. Low level danger alert. Elei drew his Rasmus and listened. “Three approaching.”

They pulled their hoods forward, hiding their faces. Kalaes pushed off the wall, unslinging his semi-automatic shotgun from his back and propping it on the ground as if it were a walking stick. He leaned on it, lips lifting in a sharp grin, but it didn’t fool Elei.

Kalaes was nervous as all the hells.

Elei cocked his Rasmus and heard Alendra do the same. The fact Mantis said he knew these people, these kids, didn’t mean they meant them no harm.

A boy rounded the corner, flanked by two girls. They held guns, their grip loose, their gazes sharp. Their clothes were ratty and patched in places, gray with dust and dirt.

They halted and exchanged looks between them.

“Which one of you is Kalaes?” asked the boy, gesturing for the girls to stay back. He seemed to be about Elei’s age, his light brown hair hanging in greasy strings around his thin face. Green eyes assessed Elei, then Alendra, coming to rest on Kalaes. “You.”

Kalaes nodded. “Greetings from Mantis.” Sunlight reflecting off a high window caught his young face, the three parallel lines tattooed on his cheek, his mismatched eyes; one dark and true, the other bright blue, possessed by Rex.

“I’m Mitt.” The boy hooked a finger at his companions, then displayed the back of his hand, lifting it for all to see. The tattoo of a bird was traced in bold black lines. “We’re the Hawk Gang. And yours?”

“We’re not a gang,” Kalaes said stonily.

“Of course you are.” Mitt frowned. “You have the tat. Why else would you be meeting with us?”

“He disbanded his gang many years ago,” a male voice said from behind Kalaes.

Elei stiffened and turned, raising his gun; dammit, they’d been distracted and not kept watch over the other side of the alley. “Who’re you?”

The newcomer, a boy with long, blond hair and striking blue eyes, ignored Elei, gaze fixed on Kalaes’s back. He’d come alone and the butts of two guns jutted over his hips.

Kalaes turned slowly, the blood draining from his face. “Dain?”

“Okay, who in the five hells is Dain?” Alendra said, her gun raised.

“Leader of the Triple Gang,” Dain said, smirking, and tapped the tattoo on his cheek.

Which was the same as Kalaes’ — three parallel black lines across his cheek.

“You took over the gang,” Kalaes said, his lips thinning.

Dain shrugged, the smirk never slipping. “You gave up on us. I didn’t.”

“I got you jobs, and a place to stay. You were old enough to be on your own.” Kalaes’ hand tightened on the grip of his propped-up machine gun. “You were doing fine last I checked.”

“Last you checked was years ago, fe.” Dain’s eyes glittered with anger. “You dropped off the face of the earth and assumed everything was as you left it.”

“I wasn’t living in pissing Artemisia anymore. I asked Maera to check on you. Dammit.” Kalaes rubbed a hand over his face. “She said you were doing fine.”

“Haven’t seen Maera in ages,” Dain spat. “You’re just lying to save your hide.”

Kalaes wouldn’t do that. “Is this what you came here for, to blame Kal?” Elei muttered.

“He abandoned us,” Dain said.

Elei itched to ask what had happened back then. When he’d first met Kalaes, Kalaes had said in no uncertain terms that he didn’t take strays in anymore. Why?

“You’re almost as old as he is,” Alendra snapped at Dain. “Do you still need him to hold your hand?”

Dain turned his cool gaze on her. “Stay out of this.”

It made Elei’s finger twitch on the trigger.

“What’s going on?” Mitt asked. His two companions had approached warily, hands on the knives hanging at their belts.

“Everything’s fine,” Kalaes said and picked up his machine gun. He slung it over his shoulder, managing to look both nonchalant and dangerous. “We’re just waiting for one more gang leader.”

“Her, by any chance?” Alendra asked, pointing behind Kalaes.

Oh great, distracted again. Cursing softly, Elei swung his gun around and blinked.

The newcomer was... colorful. Pretty in a spunky sort of way. Her black hair was plaited in tiny braids that bounced when she moved, and tattoos curled around her neck, dark lines swirling up from her neckline into her mass of hair. Her skin was the color of burnt sugar. A thin boy followed her, his expression shy.

“Hiya, pooskers. Ya called?” She grinned, her dark eyes lighting up. “I’m Zoe, and this is Ifran. Where’s the party?”

***

“Pooskers?” Kalaes muttered as Zoe led the way to what she promised was a safe place to talk. Their little group shuffled along uneasily, glances shooting back and forth, hands resting on the grips of holstered guns.

“Bloomers. Fredos.” Zoe shot Kalaes an amused look over her leather-clad shoulder. “Friends.”

“You’re not from around here,” Dain said accusingly. “You’re from another island.”

Zoe shrugged. “Is there a law against it?”

Kalaes held a hand up and they slowed. An avenue opened up ahead, and Elei caught a glimpse of uniforms and glinting visors. A patrol. The city of Artemisia had a strong Gultur police presence, because of its importance as a port and because it was so close to the Gultur capital.

They split, spreading behind dumpsters and under the awnings of shuttered shops, waiting to see if the patrol would turn into the side street. Alendra crouched next to Elei behind a low wall and heat flared where their bodies touched. She smelled fresh, like rainwater. She smiled at him and, for a breathtaking moment, he thought she might kiss him.

But she turned her attention back to the street.

The kiss they’d shared back at the town of Istros burned in his memory. He hoped she hadn’t regretted it; hoped she’d want to kiss him again, although he had to wonder why she’d ever want to, and anyway the war was about to start in earnest.

War. Five hells. It just didn’t seem real.

Mitt and his two girls waved from behind a fire escape farther down the street, signaling the patrol was gone. They crept out of hiding. Dain glared at Kalaes, Zoe shook out her braids and grabbed her younger companion’s hand, and they exited into the busy avenue. She led them across, weaving between streetcars rolling on huge wheels and old, faded aircars into another street and another alley, to the back of an abandoned garage and into a rickety building with broken windows and a black hole where an elevator used to be.

She whistled, and someone whistled back from a side-alley. “All clear,” she said.

“This is Hound Gang turf,” hissed Mitt, his eyes huge.

“Of course it is,” Dain said. “That’s her gang.”

Now he said it, Elei noticed the animal tat on the back of Zoe’s hand. She opened a door inside the trashed lobby and gestured expansively.

“Welcome to our magnificent abode, pooskers.” She grinned from ear to ear. “You’ll be safe from harm and rodents as long as you don’t carry any food in your pockets.”

Kalaes snorted softly, pulled back his hood, gave a mocking bow and strode past Elei to enter first. Shit.

“Kal, wait.” Elei hurried after him, Rex pounding like a drum inside his skull. Danger. Fear. They didn’t know this girl. What if someone lurked inside, waiting to kill them?

Elei took a few steps and stopped. Gripping the handle of his gun, he examined the cramped space he’d just entered: a long hall where kids of all ages huddled on gray rugs and watched with frightened eyes. There had to be at least thirty of them, thin and shaking.

Kalaes was already checking the other rooms, and Elei went after him.

“I said it’s safe here,” Zoe said from behind, startling him. “Stop scaring my kiddos.”

Elei shook his head, grimacing, not knowing what to think of her yet. The others were settling in the main hall, kneeling in a circle on the dirty rugs. The kids had scooted to one side, observing them openly.

Faint light dribbled through broken windows covered in cloth and paper, illuminating Alendra’s golden hair. She sat cross-legged next to one of Mitt’s unnamed girls. Zoe was patting a small girl on the back, whispering something in her ear. Could they trust Zoe?

Could they trust anyone? Could these half-starved, sick kids help them attack Dakru City? This plan was mad.

If only there was any other way.

Elei sat down next to Kalaes and found Dain on his other side. Dammit. He wondered if Dain would throw a fit if Elei just got up and moved to Kalaes’ other side. Wondered if it mattered.

But then Zoe left her kids and came to join them. The circle was completed.

“Welcome, pooskers,” she said, “to the Hound realm.” A little boy came to stand behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder like a lost puppy. He was so tiny he barely managed it. “I’m Zoe, and around you, you see most of my gang. We’re proud of sheltering so many little ones.” She petted the little boy’s head and grinned. “So now you all know me. I don’t know all of you, though. Okay, I know Kalaes, the spiky-haired one.”

Kalaes cocked his head to the side and grinned back.

“I know Dain,” Zoe said, pointing at the sulky blond boy, “and I’ve met Mitt and his girls, Sora and Kala, before.”

The three nodded.

“So who are you?” Zoe turned to Elei, then Alendra.

Elei hesitated, drew back his hood, but Kalaes slung an arm over his shoulders before he could speak.

“This is my brother,” Kalaes announced, “Elei Ster. And that’s Alendra Mur, our friend.”

Alendra Mur, Elei thought. He hadn’t even known her last name.

In the spreading silence, everyone stared at him and Alendra, then at Kalaes.

“Oh, boomers,” Zoe exclaimed, red splotching her cheeks. “You’re that Kalaes? And that Elei? And Ale — I think I’ve heard of her, too. Your faces are posted all over Artemisia. Well, not Ale’s, but... What about Hera, and that other girl, Sami or something?”

Cold sweat trickled down Elei’s back. He knew they were wanted, but hearing about the posters made it all the more real.

“Hera and Sacmis stayed behind,” Kalaes said. “There’s a plan put forward by the leader of the resistance. I’ll tell you about it if you swear to secrecy and if you’re willing to help.”

Silence fell, heavy and stifling, the only sound a child’s wail from another room.

“Holy shit,” one of Mitt’s girls said. “You’re really them? You’ve been on every pamphlet, resistance or regime alike. You brought the regime to its knees.”

“Wishful thinking,” Dain said, his narrow gaze fixed on Kalaes. “The regime’s alive and kicking.”

“But nothing like before,” Mitt interjected, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a nervous gesture. “And there are rumors of war.”

“Not just rumors,” Alendra said but stopped and bit her lip. She glanced at Kalaes, her thin hands curling in her lap. “Tell them, Kal.”

Everyone tensed. Mitt and his girls exchanged uneasy looks. The kids behind them chattered like birds on a wire.

Kalaes lifted his chin and waited while Zoe shushed the kids. “Tefnut says we’re all human,” he said, the words ringing low and heavy.

The code Mantis had been using to rally the street kids to his cause.

“We’re listening,” Zoe whispered.

“I need you to swear an oath first,” Kalaes said, “that you won’t betray us, won’t tell anyone else what I’m about to tell you. I called you here because Mantis said you gang leaders of Artemisia believe in his cause. But I wanna hear it for myself.” His gaze drifted to Dain who glared back. “Are you committed, fe? Will you swear you won’t break faith?”

Elei shifted uncomfortably. It was a damn huge risk. A tiny nudge, a word of this whispered in the Regime’s ears, and the whole plan, mad or not, could fall apart and get them all killed.

“I swear,” Mitt said, and the two girls nodded solemnly. “I’ll listen and won’t speak of it to anyone else.”

“Count me in.” Zoe lifted a hand, her pinkie curled. “I swear.”

They all turned to Dain who shoved his long blond hair off his face, his blue eyes dark.

“I’ll listen,” he said.

“But do you swear to secrecy?” Kalaes demanded, color rising to his cheekbones.

Dain hesitated, glanced around, and for a moment Elei hoped he’d refuse and be sent on his way. “I do.”

Tension released around the room. Shoulders slumped and heads nodded.

“We’re going to bring the regime down,” Kalaes said, his voice low and measured. He leaned forward. “There will be attacks on many fronts. We take Dakru City.”

Tension returned. Hissing whispers spiraled, dipping and rising like moths.

But Elei was relieved. Kalaes wasn’t telling them everything. A knot of fear in his gut came undone and he realized he’d been clutching the hem of his jacket. He released it and let out a long breath.

“You want us to attack Dakru City?” Zoe arched a fine, dark brow. “Are you mad?”

“Suicide mission, is it?” Dain drawled. “Or rather, murder, sending innocent children to their deaths. Are we of so little worth to you?”

Elei’s headache returned, together with his own uncertainty and sickening guilt. He saw Kalaes blanch.

“We all put ourselves on the line,” Kalaes said. “Young and old.” As if he were that old himself.

“Ask the adults to fight,” Dain said through clenched teeth. “Why ask us?”

Alendra harrumphed. “Because we want to avoid outright battle. We’re at a disadvantage. We don’t have weapons, don’t have a trained army. We need to act in secret. Nobody tracks the movements of street kids.”

“That’s right, because nobody cares for street rats,” Dain spat.

“I care,” Kalaes said. “Of all people, you should know. I looked after you, my whole gang, even kids from other bands.”

“Whatever. You brush it all off easily, don’t you, but now it’s my gang and I’m not sending them to their death, do you hear me?”

“Whoa.” Zoe waved a hand. “Cool down. Kalaes and his people have a point. Grown-ups are watched and not organized like we are.”

“What about adult gangs?” Mitt said. “They’re organized.”

“We can’t trust them,” Kalaes said. He glanced around. “Is this some sort of test? Don’t ya all know that the Undercurrent Council is corrupt? Besides, the adult gangs are caught up in black market crime and aren’t interested in throwing off the regime. They’re dangerous people without scruples.”

“And you think you’re any different?” Dain muttered. “Don’t tell me you can’t remember what you did when Fran got sick back when—”

“Oh shut up,” Alendra snapped, shoving Dain back. Elei shifted so he could stop Dain if he turned violent, but the boy didn’t move, his gaze fixed on Kalaes.

Who had paled even more, the black lines of his tattoo stark on his cheek. “That’s not...” He rubbed his temples. “Listen, all of you. I’m not happy with putting kids at risk. We’ll do our damnedest to keep them safe. We’re not gonna storm the Gultur palace or anything like that. We’ll be a distraction so others can deliver the decisive blow. What do you say?”

“We’re game,” Mitt said, his companions nodding. “We already told Mantis. The Hawks will join.”

“Crimey.” Zoe sighed. “Yeah, we’re interested, but I want to hear the whole plan before I say the final yes. If Mantis leads, we follow.” Her dark gaze flicked to Elei, sizing him up. “Mantis and Elei Rex.”

Elei opened his mouth and closed it. “Ster,” he corrected faintly. “Elei Ster.”

Zoe grinned and winked. “Sure. And what about you, crom?” She nodded at Dain. “Will you join the party?”

“You all think this is fun, do you?” Dain let out a long breath and climbed to his feet. He brushed his hands over his dirty blue pants. “No, I don’t think I’ll be joining the ‘party’. I’m not throwing my gang to the dogs for Mantis and his stupid plans.”

Turning, he headed out. A door slammed inside the building.

“Oh dawdle damn,” Zoe muttered and Elei couldn’t agree more.

***

Down in the basement of the field hospital of Istros, a map of Dakru was spread on the long table, a lamp swaying overhead, making the shadows dance.

Giving Hera a headache. She itched to smash the bulb, throw the lamp to the wall, release some frustration.

Instead she made herself take a deep breath and release it.

“Where did you say it was?” Mantis asked.

“Here.” Hera tapped a finger on the area south of Abydos. “I think the entrance to the cache is about here.”

“You think.” Mantis sighed and ran his hand through his shoulder-length, blond hair. “M’lady, I need you to be more specific. We’re about to move out into the open to locate the entrance, cross enemy territory and remove a war machine from the ground. If we start blundering around...”

“You think I do not know all this?” Hera looked down, glared at the map. “I did not have any damn way to take the coordinates as we made our escape. All of us were exhausted, some ill and in need of medical attention.”

And some had been out of control. She’d been out of control, had almost killed her friends. It was one of the reasons she’d insisted on staying here and not following them to Artemisia, although she worried how they’d fare without her. Her friends. Her family.

A family she’d been about to murder, crazed by Regina’s cocktail of hormones and the gods knew what else.

Yes, better stay away from them.

Mantis nodded, chewing on his lower lip. “Yeah, when I first saw you, after your trip to the underworld, I thought I was in the company of ghosts.” His dark eyes were earnest. “If we win this war, it will be because of you and the weapons you found.” He frowned. “We need to locate this war machine.”

Easier said than done. Hera rubbed her brow, her pulse thumping behind her eyes. It had been a hamlet south of Abydos, the great city port of the north of Dakru. A small house, two women and a child, and fields of K-blooms. “I think I can retrace our route,” she said, leaning against the table.

The scents around her faded for a moment, replaced by those in her memory — the stench of the underground tunnels; mold, cold humidity, rusted metal, the urine of rats, and the peppery scent of Rex emanating from Elei and Kalaes, mingling with the sourness of old sweat.

A hand fell on her shoulder, startling a gasp from her throat. “I’ll help,” Sacmis said, her presence exuding a sense of calm and purpose. “You asked me to take note of our location. And I did.” She leaned close and whispered in Hera’s ear, “You’re not alone in this.”

You do not have to take everything on your shoulders. You’re not responsible for everything.

Sacmis had spoken those words over and over during the past two nights as they’d lain in bed talking about the future. Reassuring words, yet Hera knew better. She had always been the one in charge, the one with the responsibility. Leading the missions, taking the decisions.

Most of them. Lately, Elei had stepped in and taken on some major decisions himself.

Like infecting Kalaes with Rex to save his life.

She would not have done it, and therefore would not have saved Kalaes. The knowledge only served to tie the knot of fear in her stomach tighter. She’d failed Kalaes, might yet fail them all. Because she was not infallible, although everyone seemed to think she was. She was an Echo princess. Gultur were supposed to be infallible, but Echoes... Echoes were the hand of the divinity.

Hera clenched and unclenched her hands. Lately she felt all too human. The stress of leadership messed with her head and turned her stomach.

“Did you happen to write down the coordinates, then?” Mantis lifted a pale brow at Sacmis and waved away someone who’d entered their temporary HQ. It was a little girl, Hera saw, carrying a duffel bag. “Leave it there, Mercia,” he said, pointing at a corner. “Go get some food from the kitchens. Shoo.”

“I do not have the coordinates,” Sacmis said, leaning a slender hip into the table, her blond ponytail swinging. “But I saw a sign with distances to other towns and cities. Surely we can triangulate the position?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mantis smirked and grabbed a pen and paper. “Spill.”

Hera bent closer as Sacmis recited the town names and distance in miles, impressed in spite of herself. She knew Sacmis’ memory was sharp, but memorizing that info on the run, after emerging from days lost underground and then underwater, exhausted and stressed beyond belief, well that... That was amazing.

And the fact Sacmis had done so because Hera had asked her to was... sweet. So sweet, it made Hera’s chest ache.

Focus, hatha. Why could she not remember anything useful from that night?

“All right,” Mantis said, his brow furrowed in concentration. He drew a few lines on the map, then tapped the pen where they intersected. “If your memory serves you right, then here’s the area we’ve been looking for.”

The three of them bent over the map.

“Yes, this could be it,” Hera muttered, tracing the road south of Abydos. “We were not far from the city.” She would not admit it but that was all she remembered from their way to Abydos. Driving the decrepit aircar they’d practically taken by force from the small family they’d met when they’d emerged from the ground. She’d promised them money, she thought. Or Elei had. Made no difference. She remembered approaching the city, checking for check-points and patrols.

Then she remembered white-hot fury and the desperate need to eliminate the threat. To erase Rex and its carriers.

Gods. Maybe that was why she could not recall anything else.

“This isn’t good.” Mantis dropped the pen on the table and folded his arms across his chest, pale brows drawing together. “Not good at all.”

“Why?” Hera squinted at the map’s markings. “It is not too far. We can take the same route back.”

“No, in fact, you can’t.” Mantis scowled, his young face scrunching up. Turning, he pushed his fingers into his hair. “That road’s closed. In fact all southern suburbs of Abydos have been roadblocked, because that’s where you were spotted when you arrived. You, Sacmis, Elei, Kalaes and Ale. The patrols are sweeping the city. At least here we’re safe for now, but soon we’ll need to move—”

“Mantis!” A little boy raced into the room, chubby cheeks flushed. “Message from Leny of the Blackhound gang.”

“And what does it say?” Mantis half-turned toward the door, his gaze distant. “Quickly.”

“Okay.” The boy caught his breath and closed his eyes, as if pulling up the message from his memory. “Your position is compromised. Get out. And don’t go south.”

Chapter Two

“Now what?” Alendra paced the room. Elei watched her, his eyes drawn in spite of himself to her soft curves, the silvery sheen of her hair where it hung loose on her shoulders.

Shit.

Mitt and company had left, promising to talk to more gang leaders and meet again later. The little kids had followed Zoe to the kitchen for breakfast, the din loud even behind the closed door. A wail was followed by a crash.

“Now we wait,” Kalaes said. He stood leaning against a wall, eyes closed, looking worn out.

Worry gripped Elei’s insides. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Sure, fe. Just tired.”

Right. Kalaes had barely made it out alive from the underworld, Rex pushing back palantin in the nick of time. What if palantin had flared again? What if the bonding of Rex and palantin had gone wrong?

Stop worrying. He’s fine. Kalaes was probably stressed out over Dain and his accusations. They’d made Elei curious, in spite of himself. What had Dain been referring to? What had happened years back before Kalaes had dismantled his gang?

‘You don’t know the things I’ve done,’ he’d told Elei once. How bad could it be?

Small windows were set high up in the walls, their panes dusty. Ruddy light filtered through, making him think of blood. An image flashed through his mind — Pelia, lying still and bloody in his arms, Kalaes and Alendra, laid out in a deserted street. A girl kneeling by his side with large, gemstone eyes, a wide grin and black, rotten teeth.

Nightmares. They’d been getting worse since they’d arrived in Artemisia, and the place might have something to do with it. The fact of coming back. Full circle of sorts.

“I don’t trust Dain,” Alendra said, still pacing.

“He swore he won’t betray us,” Kalaes muttered.

“And you believe him?”

Kalaes snorted and opened his eyes. “What choice do I have?” He pushed off the wall. “We’ll need more people. Most of Zoe’s kids are too young for this.”

“Mitt will find us more,” Alendra said.

Elei rubbed his tainted eye; it still pulsed painfully. “I thought more gang leaders were supposed to come.”

“The stick up the regime’s ass has grown bigger,” Zoe said, entering the room. “The damn patrols are working hard, breaking up any gathering, whipping any suspects within an inch of their lives, even the very young. The other gang leaders are... hesitant.”

“But you’re not?” Kalaes asked quietly.

She shrugged. “This isn’t a life worth living. We need peace, and peace comes at a frigging cost. Besides.” She considered Kalaes from under long, dark lashes. “You said you’d do your best to keep everyone safe. I choose to believe you, soomi.”

Kalaes nodded and swallowed.

“Without more people,” Alendra whispered, “Mantis’ plan will fall through.”

“And what exactly is Mantis’ plan?” Zoe twined a thin braid around a finger, a crease between her slender brows.

Kalaes was staring at her and Elei wondered if he was thinking of his own twin braids, the ones he’d grown in memory of his dead; the ones he’d sacrificed in honor of the living, in a pledge to fight this war.

“The idea was to capture a place that’s important for the Gultur,” Kalaes said, glancing sideways at Elei as if not sure how much to say. “I had a few possibilities in mind. There’s a water source near Dakru City, and a couple of factories we could seize.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Zoe huffed. “How long d’you think we’d hold out with the regime breathing down our necks, right outside their capital — even if we managed to seize a factory or water source?”

“It wouldn’t be for long,” Alendra said. “We distract them only for as long as is needed to launch the real attack.”

“The real attack?” Zoe’s gaze moved from Alendra to Elei, questioning.

He shrugged helplessly. “Yeah.”

“Right. So we hold this place, and for how long, then, soomi?” Zoe seemed fond of using words nobody understood, although the lilting, warm tone she used for this one made it sound affectionate.

Unless of course she was being sarcastic. Hells, Elei couldn’t tell.

“A day, perhaps?” Alendra shrugged. “We’ll coordinate efforts with the other groups.”

In theory, it should all go according to plan, smooth and fine. In reality, though, it was never that easy, and every one of them knew it. Besides, they’d already told Zoe too much and it made everyone uneasy. Elei could see it in Kalaes’ narrowed gaze and in Alendra’s tight bow of a mouth.

“That’s the plan,” Kalaes said.

Zoe turned toward Elei, a hand held out, her dark eyes betraying nothing. “And what say you, Elei Rex? Do you find the plan realistic?”

Elei stiffened in surprise. “I find it necessary.”

Silence followed his words.

Then Zoe laughed, a light-hearted sound, and her braids shook. Her hand fell by her side. “Well said.”

“Look, just...” Elei clenched his hands into fists. “Just call me Elei. I’m not...” A king. Or Rex’s. “Not what you seem to think I am.”

Zoe tilted her head to the side, her expression thawing, her inky eyes lighting up. The black tattoos twined around her neck like vines. “So tell me, what do I think you are? Or better still: What are you, really?”

Confused, Elei retreated a step and glanced to Kalaes for aid, but his friend was at the window, staring up at the street through the dirty glass. “I don’t...”

“Maybe you don’t even know what you are,” Zoe muttered. “Even after everything you’ve been through. Maybe you need to find out for yourself.”

And what in the hells was that supposed to mean?

Alendra moved to Elei’s side and took his arm, her golden eyes shining like moons. “We need to be on our way,” she said. “We’ll meet in the evening, as agreed. I hope you can help us.”

“I hope so, too, soomi,” Zoe whispered. “I really do.”

***

What had Zoe meant? Elei pushed his hands into his pockets as they waited at the door for Kalaes to join them. He was Elei, a mortal, working with the resistance because he’d been thrown into this war and told to fix everything. Infected with Rex, his friends kidnapped and tortured, his safe places taken from him. Forced into battle.

Though you promised the kids of Teos, a traitorous voice whispered in the back of his head. Promised to help them, to change things. Isn’t that why you descended into the underworld to find weapons? Wasn’t that your choice?

Yeah, true. But he’d done his part. Couldn’t do much more.

Kalaes came out, his hood pulled low over his eyes, and they slipped through the streets, hiding in shadows. None of them spoke as they moved through the filthy alleys and back streets. Rats skittered along exposed nepheline pipes, their beady eyes curious. A whistle rang, and Elei hoped they weren’t about to be jumped and robbed. He huddled in his jacket, shoved his hands deeper inside his pockets. Their building was right around the corner. Almost there.

Kalaes lengthened his stride. Soon their building came into view, a gray stack of apartments.

There was a stillness about the place: a sense of wrongness. Nobody was around. Even the beggar who’d set up shop by the broken infopole was gone.

To buy cigarettes, probably. You’re being paranoid.

Yeah, what else was new?

But Rex screeched inside his head as they came to the entrance. Colors leaped from the surroundings, Rex scanning everything in layers, red, yellow, blue, green.

Elei backed away, glanced up at their window, not sure what he expected to see.

“What is it?” Alendra whispered, her face shadowed, her hood drawn low. Her chest pulsed crimson in Elei’s eye.

Kalaes groaned and stumbled. He tugged his jacket open. “Netherhells. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Shit. If Kalaes’ parasite was reacting as well, chances were something was really wrong. Elei turned his attention back to their window on the fourth floor and red caught his eye.

Five hells. A pulse. Someone was inside.

“Let’s go!” Elei grabbed Kalaes’ arm and Alendra’s hand and hauled them away from the building.

They ducked into a side street, their footfalls sounding way too loud in his ears. Whoever was up there had probably set up sentinels around the building. Had they been spotted?

Gods, he hoped Cat had left the apartment, that he hadn’t been hurt.

He dragged them on, barely aware of Alendra asking what in the hells was going on and Kalaes muttering about demons of the deep, until they reached a busy street market. Mingling with the crowd would conceal them.

Kalaes cursed under his breath, his steps unsteady. Still not used to the pulsing colors and the change in perspective when Rex took over, or was there another problem? He had to ask him. Later.

An eating booth came into sight and Elei zeroed in on it. A tarp kept out the chilly wind he barely felt. A tarp was good; it provided much-needed cover. He dragged the others behind it and shoved them onto a low bunk.

“Stay low,” he whispered and slid next to Alendra, pushing his hands through his short hair, tugging. Oh gods, Cat. Was the furball okay? Had the Gultur killed him? Shit. How did this happen? How did anyone know where to find them?

Kalaes sank down, his face pale. “Hot damn. This parasite’s killing me.”

A chill went through Elei. “You’ll get used to it.” He’d infected Kalaes to keep him alive, and it had worked; that was all that mattered. Side-effects were unavoidable.

Of course, Elei had carried cronion, relative of Rex, since he could remember. He was accustomed to its ways, its strength, its effects, to the alien passenger who took over the wheel whenever danger was afoot.

Kalaes was now getting his first taste.

People moved around the stall, a living wave, and Elei kept his face down, his heart hammering. The owner of the stall came around to tell them they had to order or leave, his mustache muffling his words, and Elei sighed. Adrenaline pounded in his veins and he didn’t think he could stomach anything.

He slipped around the table and approached the counter, doing his best to keep his face hidden.

The owner watched Elei from watery blue eyes as he asked for water and slices of blue algae bread. He brightened when he saw Elei’s coins. “I also have fried fish and K-blooms—”

“No,” Elei snapped. K-blooms. Sugar. His mouth watered and Rex sent pangs through him, demanding he take them. No. “Just water and bread.”

He counted out the dils and pushed them across the counter. Then he carried the water and bread to their bunk, feeling as if he had a target painted in red on his back.

“How did they find us?” Alendra mumbled, taking a cup and downing the water. Her golden eyes flicked sideways, checking the other customers.

“Probably someone recognized us.” Kalaes stopped rubbing his eye and took a piece of blue bread. He waved it in the direction of their building. “You heard what that girl said. Our faces are plastered all over town.”

“Or someone from the meeting betrayed us.” Alendra stared into her empty cup.

“Dain?” Elei shot Kalaes a questioning glance.

“Dain wouldn’t do something that pissing stupid,” Kalaes said, but his voice held a smidge of doubt.

“He thinks you abandoned him,” Alendra said softly.

Kalaes frowned, fingers clenching on the bread, mashing it. “I didn’t, dammit. He knew where to find me. I sent him my address with Maera. He never came to visit.”

They sat in silence, the market sounds rising around them like a wall, drowning the pulse drumming in Elei’s ears. Or maybe Rex was satisfied he wasn’t in any immediate danger and was letting up. A reprieve.

Elei let out a breath. “Now they know we’re in town,” he muttered.

“I wish we could move faster with the plan.” Kalaes observed the people milling about under lowered lashes. “We should get word to Mantis and Hera.”

“Can we trust the others? Zoe and Mitt?” Alendra chewed on her lower lip, the cup shaking in her hand.

The question of the day.

“Mantis said he trusts them all,” Elei said.

Alendra put her cup on the table and glared. “Well, I don’t.” She sighed. “We still have to meet with Hera’s contact, Iliathan. Since we’re destitute and on the run, we might as well get on with that and lie low until we meet with the gangs again tonight.”

It sounded like a plan. Sort of.

Elei stuffed the bread in his mouth and it tasted bitter, like fear.

***

Iliathan was tall and blond, his lanky figure barely visible through the crack in the door. A blue eye stared at them suspiciously. “Hera’s friends, huh? She did say you’d drop by.”

He motioned them inside the basement and draped himself over a chair in front of a grimy round monitor. He looked to be roughly Kalaes’ age, maybe a few years older. Golden stubble covered his chin and jaw, and his nails were bitten bloody.

Kalaes closed and locked the door, then slouched against a wall, brows drawn together. He was uncharacteristically silent and Elei didn’t like how worried that made him.

“So what do you want?” Iliathan drawled.

“Hera said you can help us,” Elei said.

Iliathan shrugged his bony shoulders. He wore a long cardigan, patched on the elbows, and faded green pants. “It depends.” He flicked a glance at Elei and grinned. “You’re the one she came looking for some weeks ago, aren’t you? That Eles kid. I found you for her.”

Elei opened his mouth and closed it. He’d wondered how Hera had located him, though it all seemed like years ago. “Um, thanks.”

“What do you need from me?” Iliathan fished in the cardigan pockets for a packet of ama cigarettes. Elei watched him, wishing for a cig to calm his nerves, but Iliathan didn’t offer and he didn’t want to ask.

“So you’re the tech expert,” Alendra said. “Can you help us break into facilities, give us codes for control panels and so on?”

“If you ask nicely,” Iliathan said, winking.

Heat shot up Elei’s neck. He wanted to shove Iliathan away, wipe the smug expression off his face. Alendra was with Elei and...

He frowned. And what? She’d kissed him. What did that mean? Was she his girlfriend? Were they together?

Dammit, he should be thinking of other things. Like how to survive the day. Contact Mantis and Hera. Change the plan.

“We have a list of places in mind,” Alendra said, leaning forward, eyes shining. “You could tell us which you could get us into.” She swallowed. “Please.”

“Ah, see, that’s what I mean. Being nice.” Iliathan grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Call me Ilia. And give me your list.”

Alendra went to stand beside him. Leaning against his chair, she began running through the locations they had in mind, her voice crisp. Her blond head glowed in the light of the monitor and her sweater hugged the curves of her waist and hips.

Elei shook himself and turned to Kalaes. “We need to talk.”

Kalaes lifted a brow but let Elei draw him to the corner of the room. “What is it?”

“Kal...” Shit, he wasn’t good at this but he couldn’t stand the knot in his chest any longer. “You promised you’d tell me if you were sick again.” Elei’s hands shook and he shoved them into his pant pockets.

“Sick?” A frown darkened Kalaes’ face. “Who says I’m sick?”

Elei opened his mouth and closed it again. “You... aren’t talking much,” he offered lamely.

Hells. He wished Rex would take over, pouring adrenaline into him, but Rex always retreated when Kalaes was near. With Kalaes he felt safe.

Silence stretched.

Then the frown melted from Kalaes’ face. “So I can’t shut my big mouth for five minutes before you think I’m sick and dying?” He grinned, reaching out to ruffle Elei’s hair.

Elei ducked just in time and glared. He knew Kalaes well enough to realize when he was avoiding an issue. “So you’re not sick, but...?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” Elei glanced at Alendra’s silhouette, cut in silver against the monitor’s glow. “Is it Dain? Bad memories?”

“No, I... I’m good, fe. Honest to the gods.” Kalaes rubbed the back of his neck, and Elei wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Then what is it?”

“You won’t let up until you know, will you?” Kalaes rolled his eyes but didn’t seem overly put out. “I really am okay. Just having some troubles with Rex, that’s all.”

If that was really all... Elei nodded, relieved. “Is it the double vision?” Kalaes had complained of nausea back at their building. “Is it making you dizzy?”

Kalaes’ smile faded. “Okay, fine, I give in. The double vision is a bitch, but that’s not it. Hells, I thought I could beat this on my own, but maybe you’ve got some advice for me.” He made a wry face.

Elei frowned, uneasy. Something else? What else was there?

“The flashes.” Kalaes sighed. “On everything.”

Elei blinked. “Flashes?”

Tension returned to Kalaes’ face. “You know, when Rex starts reacting, pounding in my eye like a pissing machine gun, and the colors come.”

Ah, the colors. Elei nodded encouragingly, finally on familiar ground. “And the sweeps? Red, orange, blue...” He trailed off at Kalaes’ wide eyes. Oh crap.

“No clue what in the hells you’re talking about.” Kalaes’ voice shook a little. “I see red on people’s chests. When Gultur are out and about, I get these demon faces leering at me. Told you.”

“Yeah.” Like on Hera’s face when she’d attacked them at Abydos. Elei swallowed hard. But then...?

“I mean the bright flashes.” Kalaes waved a hand about, frowning. “Like a glow on things, like golden fingerprints, trails of them on a person’s skin, on the walls, the doors...”

What? “Fingerprints?”

“They look like it. Each trail is different, different color, texture, intensity... Hard to describe. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

Elei turned away, tried to hide his shock. Okay, the doctor had said the bonding of Rex with a parasite other than telmion might develop differently, and Kalaes had palantin. It made sense his body would respond in another way.

Right?

But what did these flashes mean? Was it a good or a bad thing? Was it a useful power or a nasty side effect?

And Kalaes was waiting for him to say he knew what it was and how to work with it, how to wrestle with it like he did with the colors.

Not sweeps. Flashes.

Hells.

A loud bark of laughter from Iliathan saved Elei from having to answer. Kalaes arched a dark brow.

“You’re frigging kidding me.” Iliathan snorted and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “This,” he tapped a grimy finger on the monitor, “could be a real problem.”

“What?” Alendra’s blond head bent closer and Elei’s fists tightened.

Dammit, relax.

“They’ve upped the security level to nine. Recently, too, from the looks of it. Maybe even last night.” He tapped rapidly on the keyboard. “I think I have an idea...”

Alendra shot Elei and Kalaes a worried look over her shoulder. A coincidence? No way.

“Can you still get us inside?” she asked.

“I can get you as close as possible,” Iliathan said. “I can override protocols and open up some gates.”

Sounded fair enough.

“So what’s the catch?” Kalaes went to stand next to Iliathan’s chair, eyes narrowed. “There’s always a catch.”

“Yeah, well. Can’t see what’s going on inside the facilities.” Iliathan sucked air through his teeth. “Once you’re in, you’re on your own, pals.”

Always. Was that supposed to be something new? “In which facility can you get us?” Elei asked.

“The medicine factory on the east side looks feasible. Or the water treatment plant to the west, toward the mountains.”

Elei exchanged a look with Kalaes who shook his head. Right, stick to the plan, trust no-one, not even Hera’s favorite informant.

“Then be ready to get us into either one,” Elei said.

He felt bad lying to Iliathan, making him work his ass off for something not needed. Neither of the two locations would be their target. Still. Hera had sworn this man was trustworthy, but Elei would rather let Kalaes call the shots on this one and they’d agreed that a false lead was needed in case anyone was keeping tabs on Iliathan.

Consistent, be consistent. Never let your guard down. This was too important, and anyone could be listening in.

“Either one. Oh man, honestly? You have no idea how much work that is.” Iliathan sighed. “Let me see if I’m not talking dogshit first. I need to check a few things. This may take some time.”

Elei frowned.

Well, they weren’t meeting the gang leaders until later. Might as well rest.

He glanced at the room. It was bare apart from the table and the chair Iliathan occupied. As if reading his thoughts, Alendra looked around, too, and her slender brows drew together.

Kalaes solved the problem by leaning against a wall and sliding down, hands hanging between his knees. Despite the grin he sent Elei’s way, he looked tired. “Well then, let’s catch a wink.” He waved a hand. “It’s not like we have a home to go back to, is it?”

“And why are you so cheerful?” Alendra grumbled, settling next to him and stretching her legs.

“We’re free, fe, when we could be in the regime’s hands. They didn’t catch us. That should count for something.”

Joining them, Elei thought about that. Yeah, things could have been worse. Then again, they’d lost their apartment, their base, their safe place. Someone — probably Dain — had betrayed them to the regime and their plan was half-mad anyway.

Things were worse already.

***

“You have been compromised. Do not go south. Took them some time.” Hera’s chest seethed with a swirl of emotions — anger born of frustration, fear, and burning hate. “Damn them.”

“Thank the gods for small mercies,” Mantis muttered.

They were crossing one of the small towns of the northern coast, Megara, a detour but still heading toward the underground entrance, hoping to find another way through.

Hera maneuvered the aircar through the narrow streets of the town center. “We spent four days at Istros, and they only found our trail now?” She tsked. “Regime intel is getting rusty.”

Mantis raised a brow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes like a distant light. “I heard Gultur have a dry sense of humor, but hells, I never thought—”

“On your left,” Sacmis hissed, grabbing the stabilizer lever, swaying in the co-driver’s seat. “Incoming.”

“Hold on.” Hera swerved, ramming the vehicle into an alley and praying they’d fit.

“We still have them at our backs.” Sacmis drew her longgun and stood, sliding the window panel open. “I’ll slow them down.”

Mantis was already crouching at the back, aiming through a crack in the back window. “I’m shooting for their front engine.”

“Mortals.” Sacmis scoffed. “I’m going for the driver.”

Hera bit her lip, torn between laughing and groaning out loud. “Just slow them,” she ground out. “Don’t stop them.”

They were the decoy, the red flag. Four other aircars carrying Mantis’ people were heading in another direction. He should have been with them; he was the leader of the resistance. He had to remain alive to end the war.

But he’d said the most important thing right now was that Hera and Sacmis stay alive to lead the way to the war machine and find out how to operate it.

And she was glad he was with her, so she could keep an eye on him. It gave her an illusion of control.

Sacmis fired and cursed, drawing back.

“Are you okay?” Hera gave her a quick once-over, relaxing when she saw no blood.

“Fine. Missed.”

Another shot rang from the back.

“Mantis?” Hera glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.

“Got them.” He cocked his head to the side, tipped his gun toward the ceiling of the vehicle and grinned. “Get us out of here.”

Hera did not need to be told twice. She drove into a broad street, slowed briefly, and took the lane going south, entering the stream of aircars and streetcars, her hands shaking on the lever.

“And you get down,” Sacmis hissed at Mantis, “or a stray bullet might hit you.”

“You’re just mad ’cause you missed and I didn’t.” He winked, his mouth twitching, but sat down nevertheless, the gun propped between his legs. “A lowly mortal getting the prize.” He clucked his tongue. “Worried?”

“Beginner’s luck.” Sacmis sniffed and it made Hera smile. She knew Sacmis well, and knew it was all an act. She hoped Mantis knew it, too.

At this crawling pace they’d be caught in no time. An opening to her right promised a way out of the street. She saw the military aircars driving toward them as she turned and she gunned the engine, cursing.

“We need to lose them before we find the others,” Mantis muttered and Hera shook her head, her hair slipping from the bun at her nape and tickling her neck.

As if she did not know. What did he think she was trying to do, go to the market for fresh bread?

Clamping down on her temper, she sent the aircar zigzagging through the side-street, then shot onto an avenue and barely avoided a frontal collision with a heavy transport car. Still, the aircar grazed the air cushion and spun, wedging itself into the slow, north-bound lane.

Dammit. Trapped. She scanned the buildings at the side, ready to take the next exit out of the avenue.

Just to prove things could always get worse, another patrol car approached from the other side, and bullets rapped on the metal casing. Soon the rounds would penetrate, killing everyone — or they’d hit the air cushion and deflate it. This was no military car whose aircushions were protected.

The small, private aircars at the front barely advanced. The oncoming lane moved fast, but patrol cars waited for them there. Yet she could see no side streets, no escape.

Hera slammed her hand on the control panel.

“To your right,” Sacmis snapped and leaned Hera’s backrest to aim through the window. A shot rang, deafening, and Hera jerked forward, sending them crashing into a tall streetcar. Pain bloomed on her temple and she fought to clear her darkening vision.

“Hera!” Mantis’ voice was barely audible over the ringing in her ears. He was suddenly at her side, pushing her upright. There was no sound, but she read the words on his lips: “Are you okay?”

“Seen better days,” she grumbled, her headache ratcheting up to a crescendo of drums behind her brow. A fire burned in her left eye.

He shoved her lightly. “I’ll drive,” his lips said.

She nodded.

Sacmis leaned into Hera’s line of vision and dragged her to the co-driver’s seat. Placing both hands on Hera’s cheeks, she checked her eyes.

“I am not concussed,” Hera said, not even hearing her own voice. She was not dizzy or nauseous, and her vision was clear. “Make sure he does not wreck the aircar.”

Sacmis grinned, her gray eyes twinkling, obviously pleased with Hera’s snark. “You do that, senet. I need to cover our asses.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I almost burst your eardrums. They were about to shoot you. I had to act fast.”

Hera nodded and, Nunet’s snakes, her head hurt. She had no doubt Sacmis had done it to save her. “Of course.”

Since when had she lost all doubt?

Sacmis trailed her fingers down Hera’s neck. “We’ll be fine.”

“Maybe.” She missed those cool fingers when Sacmis moved away, to the back of the car, longgun in hand.

Hera leaned back, a hand on her throbbing face, watching as Mantis put the car into reverse, then jiggled it back and forth. She frowned, and it hurt. “What in Sobek’s name are you doing?”

“Escaping.”

Well, at least sound was returning.

Sacmis cursed from the back, her gun cylinder scraping on the window frame. “Will you stop this dance, mortal? I cannot take aim if you keep swinging back and forth.”

Mantis stuck his tongue out at her, still playing with the controls. “I’m stuck with two grumpy Gultur. Gods have mercy.” He reversed again, the aircar lurching and hitting the car behind them.

“What are you doing?” Hera leaned forward, dimly wondering if her head would burst with the pressure, and made a lunge for the steering lever. “You’ll get us killed.”

“Sit tight.” He bared his teeth in a sharp grin. “I’ve got this under control.”

“The hells you do.”

Before she got a grip on the lever, he accelerated, turning the aircar sharply, knocking into yet another vehicle — although, at this point, that was the least of Hera’s worries — and veered into the opposite lane. Then, before she had a chance to shout a warning about the silver aircar rushing onto them, Mantis twisted the lever and turned the aircar a hundred and eighty degrees, pushed the accelerator button, and shot away in the direction from which they’d come.

Passing the patrol cars.

Leaving their pursuers far behind.

Stunned, Hera blinked at the free expanse of the south-bound street ahead. “Sobek,” she whispered.

“Not too shabby, huh?” Mantis winked, a little wild-eyed, his cheeks flushed and his hands trembling oh-so-slightly on the levers.

Hera swallowed hard. “No,” she agreed. “Not too shabby.”

He’d driven clumsily. He was not very experienced as a driver, and he was quite reckless.

Also decisive, able to judge a situation in the spur of a moment, his thinking flexible.

She brooded on this, her fingers wrapped tight around the grip of her gun, as they sped toward the outskirts of the town and their meeting point with the others.

He was so... different from her. A lot as she’d expected. And full of surprises, too.

“We’ll make it,” he said, seeming to take her silence as worry. Which it was. About many things. “You’re concerned about Elei and the others, aren’t you?”

She nodded, a little ashamed she had not thought about them since they’d left Istros. “They cannot reach us anymore.”

“I’ve left an automated message in case they call.”

He’d thought of that even as they’d evacuated the hospital and organized their escape. Impressive.

Hera squirmed, uncomfortable with the feeling. Awe? For Mantis? In her memory’s eye, he was still a skinny kid leading a small gang, fearless and full of ugly truths that he’d throw at her, mindless of her gun and position.

Why was she impressed now? He’d always been something else. Driven. Smart. Ready to give up everything for his cause.

And his people. He’d stood in front of her, ready to take a bullet for his gang even back then.

Had he really thought of everything? Hera eyed him. “What about the electric pillars in the sea?”

“You were right. Their function seems to be protective. They can be turned on around the island of Dakru to stop an invasion from the sea, but also to prevent passing over the bridges.”

Excitement danced like electricity on her nerve endings. “Did you find out how to operate them?”

“Well, this is where it gets tricky.” Mantis turned into a side street in silence and Hera kept her mouth shut, eyes darting right and left, checking the rear-view mirrors for possible signs of pursuit.

“Tricky, how?” she finally prompted when they’d made it to the connecting road between towns.

“Some pillars are out of order. Some have been switching on and off like broken store signs.”

Hera pressed her lips together. She’d never forget how one such electric pillar had almost killed Sacmis three years back. That had been the day Hera’s eyes had been opened to the truth of her world.

“You have not answered my question,” she said. “Have you found a solution? Can we use the pillars?”

“Leave that to me, lady.” His dark eyes were now serious and opaque, hiding secrets. “Concentrate on finding the war machine. I’ll protect Dakru.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am.”

Hera cut him a sharp look. “Why?”

He shook his head. His youthful face was lined with fatigue. A dark bruise marred his arm below the elbow. As well as the thin white line on his chin, he sported more scars, old and new, on his hands and face.

“I know my people.” A flame lit in his eyes, shining from inside. His brows knitted, shading his gaze. “They’ll make it work.”

In spite of her doubts, she swallowed her knee-jerk sarcasm. She believed him. May the gods help her, she trusted him to get it done and save them all.

Chapter Three

Elei sat with his back against the cold wall of Iliathan’s basement and watched him tap on his keyboard for what felt like years.

The room was warm and Kalaes was snoring softly, arms crossed and dark head bent. Alendra had curled up on the floor like a kitten. Elei wished she’d curled up against him, but didn’t know if he was supposed to move to her side. He wished she’d take the lead, like she’d done at the bar in Istros, let him know what she wanted, what he should be doing.

He felt lost, the only thing clear in his mind the need to touch her and hold her. She was only a few feet away but she might as well be beyond the blue horizon.

His chest felt tight. Come to think about it, his eye throbbed. He rubbed it. Throbbing like hell, in fact, but no colors flaring, so why?

Kalaes stirred, raising his head. He grimaced. “Ow, five hells,” he muttered. “My eye. Damn parasite.”

Pressing his mouth thin, Elei got up and checked the high windows for any shadow, listening for any sound. Iliathan was hunched up in front of his monitor, half-dozing. The room was closed, the air stuffy, heavy with their breath. Maybe that was the reason Rex had stirred.

He waited, listening. Something else... Ah, there it was. A slight buzzing reached his ears. With it, the room burst into neon colors.

Helicopters overhead. Hells. Elei drew his Rasmus, his head pounding, his mouth dry.

“What’s going on?” Kalaes climbed to his feet, gaze sharpening. “Are we under attack?”

“Don’t know,” Elei ground out, catching a pulse of red from the corner of his eye. Alendra’s chest. She was sitting up, a hand on the grip of her gun.

Another pulse, another heartbeat: Iliathan, who got up, his eyes round.

“What’s up, guys? What are you doing?” He scratched an armpit, then caught sight of the gun in Elei’s hand and froze. “The hells?”

“Dammit,” Kalaes breathed, but instead of drawing his gun, he clapped a hand over his possessed eye. He jabbed a finger at Iliathan, then took a staggering step back. “You’re flashing these weird fingerprints. Why are you flashing?”

Elei waited for Rex to sweep the room, but the buzzing outside was growing fainter. “I think it’s time to move.” Because if those had been helicopters, they might simply be setting down nearby.

“We can trust you, right?” Alendra stared at Iliathan who was running a shaky hand through his shaggy hair.

“Yeah, girl, you can trust me. I’ve been with the Undercurrent from the start. Didn’t Hera tell you?”

Kalaes shook his head and staggered. Alendra gave a curt nod, and Elei supposed that would have to do. With Rex still humming along his nerves, it was hard to trust in anything.

“Just tell me when you’re planning to attack,” Iliathan said, turning from one to the other. “And I’ll have everything ready.”

“Tomorrow night,” Elei said and the three of them trooped to the door. “But we’ll let you know if there’s a change in the plan.”

“Be careful,” Iliathan said.

Kalaes dragged Elei to the door, and they slipped out into the shifting shadows of the evening. Alendra’s hair shimmered like silvery spiderwebs as she stepped into the street. She pulled her hood up, hiding it.

No helicopters. No danger. Safe. The street was quiet, a beggar at the corner dozing among piles of trash.

“This way.” Kalaes uncovered his eye but squinted and grimaced as if the faint light of a distant lamp post hurt him. “Put away that gun, fe.”

Elei slid the Rasmus back into its holster and told himself to take deep breaths. It was difficult with Rex still pounding inside his skull.

Get it together.

“Let’s go,” Alendra said.

Elei drew his hood over his face and followed their dark forms as they hurried through the dark streets, heading vaguely south. He limped only slightly, the adrenaline taking the edge off the pain in his deeply scarred thigh.

Cold wind whistled. Aircars rumbled by, their engines hissing and spitting. A cat strolled lazily along the shuttered store fronts, reminding him of Cat, twisting his stomach into a knot of worry.

No pursuit. No patrols.

Was that why Rex wasn’t letting up — worry? Rubbing his throbbing eye, he forced himself to slow, not to run. Everything’s fine, Rex, damn you. Just...stop.

They entered a street where a few aircars were stationed. Another cat was approaching, tail held high like a flagpole. Elei twisted to look at it, thinking he saw blue slitted eyes.

Yeah, they were blue.

Elei hissed and drew his Rasmus. Danger. Cats were amassing, purring and vibrating like generators. The cold breeze blew his hair out of his face, bringing with it a sweet smell.

Gultur.

“Run!” he shouted, sprinting toward the others, colors jumping from every surface, the buildings, the aircars, the asphalt. “They found us.”

“This way,” Kalaes yelled, jerking Alendra along toward a side street, his own gun already out. The humming was back and he saw the source of the sound.

Dammit, not helicopters; military aircars, a sleek and glittering model he’d never seen before.

“Down!” Kalaes shouted and Elei dived to the ground before the echo of the word had faded, trusting Kalaes and Alendra to do the same.

Bullets zipped overhead before the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns burst through the quiet, pressing into Elei’s eardrums like a drill.

The bullets had barely stopped flying when he was back on his feet and running. Who had betrayed them? Iliathan? Or Dain? He bent, grabbed Alendra’s arm, glanced at Kalaes who was scrambling up, and took off again.

“What...?” Alendra panted. “How?”

Exactly his thoughts.

“Follow me,” Kalaes said and veered into an alley.

“Sure?” Alleys were sometimes dead-ends.

Alendra stumbled, dragging Elei down. He steadied her with an arm around her waist and she leaned into him, her body shaking.

“I know my city,” Kalaes grunted and turned, grabbed Alendra’s other arm, and nodded at Elei.

Together they lifted her to her feet and set off running. They ran as if the hounds of the fifth hell were snapping at their heels, down the alley and into a covered passage, then out into an avenue and into another alley, back out and into a broad street with shops, then another alley, and Kalaes slowed until they came to a staggering halt.

Alendra slid to her knees, then all fours, panting, a bright outline with a beating heart.

Elei stayed on his feet although his legs trembled, trying to listen above the rushing in his ears. The alley pulsed with colors. Rex swept it over and over, picking up organic residues in the trash that danced in the rising wind. It had to be cold, but Elei couldn’t feel it, his body vibrating with tension.

No, no sound other that their harsh breathing. Had they shaken off their pursuers? Kalaes unslung his gun and turned in a circle, then gestured at the busy street beyond. “We need to cross into the seaside quarters. The festival of Helios has started. There will be crowds to get lost in.”

Festival. Elei blinked, dazed. Somewhere, somehow, people went on with their lives, ignorant of the rising undercurrents until they were ripped away.

In Elei’s experience, sooner or later everyone was.

Another sound penetrated the fog filling his head, and his heart jolted in his chest. Helices whirring. They had sent helicopters, after all. Rex sent another pang through his heart, heightening his senses until every smell, every sound and color was painfully clear.

Yeah, yeah. Sorry I doubted you.

Elei scanned the alley. No time to cross the street, lose themselves in the crowd. Too late. Yeah, some things never changed.

The buzzing rose to a crescendo, subsonic waves making the windows of the buildings vibrate, his teeth ache.

A round shape set in the street caught his eye, flaring a cold blue in his tainted eye: metal. A sewer lid.

He grabbed Alendra’s hand, hauled her up in one movement, lurched sideways and clasped Kalaes’s arm, spun them around.

“What are you doing?” Kalaes resisted. “We should run.”

“No time.” Elei dragged them to the sewer entrance, let them go and dropped to his knees, working to get the lid off.

After a frustratingly long moment, the other two came to help. They pried the lid off with fingers and nails, until it rose off its rusty frame with a creak.

And not a moment too soon. Something smashed into the wall behind Alendra and she gasped, her face going white.

Bullets. Damn.

“Get down there, quickly,” Elei said, rolling the lid off, setting it aside and drawing his Rasmus. “I’ll cover you.”

Alendra didn’t argue, thank all the gods, just turned and grabbed the rail of a moldy ladder, descending into the darkness below.

“You next,” Kalaes barked, reaching for Elei as if to grab and throw him down the vent. Then he jerked as bullet smashed into a wall. A second later, plaster and concrete rained over them. Kalaes hunched over. “Shit.”

“Kal?”

“I’m okay.” But his jacket gaped open, allowing a glimpse of bright red blood spreading on his t-shirt.

Hells. Fear left Elei gasping. “Dammit, Kal.” The pulsing colors were blinding, the fresh blood on Kalaes’ shirt flickering like a beacon. More bullets zipped past his ear, and his mind blanked, leaving one thought running in a loop: get Kalaes to safety. “Go, now! I’m right behind you.”

A hesitation, but the expected comeback didn’t come. Kalaes nodded and lowered himself inside the vent, his wide shoulders barely fitting, his silence throwing Elei even more off-balance until his heart boomed fit to break out of his ribcage. Just how badly was Kalaes hurt?

Wind currents ripped around him, tearing his jacket open. His hair whipped Elei’s face as he laid the lid aside and glanced into the sewer, seeing Kalaes’ head vanish in the dimness.

Bullets sprayed, hitting the asphalt and sending the lid skittering away with a screech. Elei snatched at it and missed. Screw it, he’d have to leave the vent uncovered. He turned to the gaping hole, bent to lower his legs inside—

Something slammed into his back, throwing him face down on the asphalted street. He writhed, unable to breathe. Darkness rose in a glittering wave and pulled him under.

***

“No, I don’t know what the hells is wrong,” Kalaes was whispering above Elei’s head. “Can you see blood?”

“It’s pitch in here, how am I supposed to see anything?” Alendra’s breath caught on the last word as if on a sob. “You’re the one with the super vision. Dammit, Kal.” Her cool hand brushed Elei’s mouth, then his cheek. “I think he’s breathing. Is he? Can you tell?”

Elei wanted to move, reassure her, but even lifting his hand was hard. Scratch that, locating his hand was hard. He couldn’t feel his body. He tensed, jaw tightening, and managed to twitch his fingers.

“Ale?” he breathed and regretted it as pain crushed his chest. Ow. Damn.

“Elei? What happened?” Kalaes appeared in his line of vision — at least a vaguely Kalaes-shaped silhouette, backlit with greenish light.

Phosphorescent fungi on the wall of... Elei strained to see beyond. A tunnel. He struggled to remember how he’d gotten there. He recalled running, and bullets. Helicopters. Then blackness.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled. Even his face hurt. He licked his lips and tasted blood and gritty dirt. “Head hurts.”

“He must’ve hit it,” Alendra said.

“What, he tripped and fell?”

Elei tried to swallow. His mouth was bone dry. He should be asking something important, he was sure of that, something worrisome, but couldn’t think what.

“We need to move,” Kalaes said and straightened so Elei had to look up to see his face and ow, his head rattled as if a compressor were trapped inside his skull. He realized he was seated, propped against a metal wall, arms lax at his sides.

“How?” he rasped, lifting his hands to his lap. How had he descended into the tunnel?

“Kalaes carried you down,” Alendra said, her voice thick.

But why? His thoughts spun in tight circles.

“Can you stand?” Kalaes bent over him, offering a hand.

Elei took it, biting down on a cry as he was pulled to his feet. Holy pissing hells. Light-headed, he leaned against Kalaes, trying to breathe through the red-hot pain that radiated down his back.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Alendra whispered and her light footfalls faded away.

“Come on, fe,” Kalaes said, tugging to get him going. “We shouldn’t linger.”

Elei raised blurry eyes and gripped Kalaes’ shoulder, forcing his feet to move. He felt as if a streetcar had rolled over him, then backed up and ran over him again for good measure.

Feeling returned to his extremities as they lurched down murky tunnels and trudged through shallow sludge. Cockroaches skittered on the concave walls and rats watched from perches on pipes and niches.

At some point, Elei noticed that Kalaes kept stealing glances over his shoulder. He tensed, kickstarting Rex, and that was a mixed blessing. His pulse sped up, delivering bruising kicks to his ribs — but it cleared his head and the pain dissolved in a haze of rising adrenaline. His chest didn’t feel as if it was about to implode anymore and he could hear sounds beyond the beating of his own heart.

Were those shouts coming from behind them?

“Run,” Kalaes whispered and they half-ran, half-stumbled along a low-ceilinged tunnel. Kalaes seemed to know which way to go, but it wasn’t until Alendra stepped out, gesturing at them to hurry, that Elei believed it.

They hurried up a slippery slope to a ladder covered in green slime. Alendra climbed the ladder first, opened the lid and peered outside.

“All clear,” she whispered, “I think.” She ventured out, a dark and slender shadow melting into the night.

Elei followed, a distant pain in his upper arm distracting him when he reached to drag himself out of the vent. He managed, though, scraping hands and knees on the rough asphalt.

Alendra stood at the end of the street, gun drawn, keeping an eye out for pursuit. It was the sensible thing to do, he thought as he staggered to his feet, his back feeling like one big bruise.

Yet a lump he couldn’t explain formed in his throat.

Kalaes pushed out of the vent and scrambled up, grimacing. His shirt was wet with blood; it pulsed a dark crimson in Elei’s possessed eye.

“Let’s move,” Kalaes said, replacing the lid, and they stalked along the graffitied walls until they reached the main street. A few aircars cruised toward the city center, their reflector stripes catching the multicolored lights from strip clubs and bars.

“I know where we are. Follow me.” Kalaes slid onto the sidewalk, the colored lights streaking his face. “First left, then right.”

They fell into step behind him. Elei pulled up his hood and focused on his unsteady feet. Rex hammered in his skull but the flickering colors were faint, and despite his racing pulse, his breathing was shallow. It was as if Rex wasn’t concerned about outside danger. As if it was working inside. Repairing him, perhaps?

Unless the parasite was simply satisfied that a Rex sibling was in charge.

“Hey.” Alendra slowed until he caught up. She tugged on the hem of his jacket and nodded to the side. “This way.”

Even that slight tug on his jacket sent pulses of pain down his spine. Why did his back hurt so damn much? What had happened?

He staggered at the sudden memory of an impact — an impact on his back so forceful it had thrown him facedown in the alley. What in the hells had it been? No blood, Kalaes had said, but he felt a thin, hot rivulet running down his arm, drenching his sleeve.

The wind howled in the narrow passages between buildings. He let his feet guide him, following in Alendra’s footsteps through a narrow alley, catching a glimpse of Kalaes’ taller figure leading the way.

Blood. A splash of red on a white shirt. Hadn’t Kalaes been hit? Or was that a dream?

“Watch out!” Alendra grabbed his arm, sharpening the ache in his bicep until it dung like sharp claws into his muscle, and saved him from his collision course with an infopole.

“Hurry the hells up.” Kalaes stepped out of the shadows and shoved Alendra and Elei into the darkness of an entrance. “We’ll wait here. The pissing regime won’t be sniffing our backsides all night. They’ll give up.”

Alendra’s eyes shimmered as if wet, but she moved away from Elei, folded her arms over her chest and leaned by the door, her hand on her gun. His throat was so tight he couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say. She looked upset, but he couldn’t think what he’d done wrong.

Pain had to be the reason he felt so off-balance, so unsure of everything. Had to be. Ale was stressed and tired. Not everything has to be about you, so get your head out of your ass.

Kalaes slipped out of the entrance and returned a few moments later. He propped his gun on the wall, the set of his broad shoulders tense. “No sign of them so far.”

Elei’s knees shook. “Good,” he whispered and began to slide down. Maybe if he rested for five minutes...

“Hey.” Kalaes wrapped an arm around him, shoring him up. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Tired.”

Kalaes tightened his hold. “Gods dammit, fe.” He pulled Elei into a hug. “I thought you’d died back there. You have to stop scaring me like that, do you hear?”

Elei blinked in the dimness, numb, limp like a rag doll. He made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat and yelped when Kalaes patted his back. He struggled to free himself.

Kalaes let go immediately. “You’re hurt. Let me see.”

Elei shook his head. “I’m okay. No bleeding, you said so yourself.”

“I found you unconscious,” Kalaes said through gritted teeth. “I swear I couldn’t find your pulse for a moment, fe. I thought your heart had stopped. So no, you’re not okay. Did you hit your back?”

Elei shrugged and waves of pain radiated down his ribs, tearing a gasp from his mouth.

“Goddammit, turn around,” Kalaes snapped. “I want to see what hit you.”

Alendra glanced their way, eyes wide, and Elei swallowed hard, trying to ignore the itch of what felt like a gash in his arm and the way his shirt stuck to his skin, wet. He didn’t want Alendra seeing his back, the snakeskin, the scars.

“I’m okay.” Elei searched his fuzzy mind for a logical explanation. “Must’ve wrenched a muscle when I fell.” He needed a diversion. He jabbed a finger at Kalaes. “Weren’t you the one shot?”

“You were shot?” Alendra abandoned her wall, stepped up to Kalaes and yanked his jacket open. She hissed at the bright red stain. “Dammit, Kal, when were you going to tell us?”

“It’s just a scratch.” Kalaes looked down at his bloodied side as Alendra lifted his shirt for a closer look.

“I have to bandage this before you bleed out.” Alendra took hold of the soaked hem of the shirt and ripped off a wide strip.

“That was my favorite shirt,” Kalaes grumbled.

“No it wasn’t. You got it from the hospital in Teos.”

Kalaes cuffed her lightly on the head. “Get on with it, we need to get going.”

“I’m just making sure you don’t pass out on the way back, you ingrate.” Alendra kept her attention on wrapping the makeshift bandage around Kalaes’ ribcage.

Distracted. Letting Elei off the hook.

He swallowed a sigh of relief.

“It might not need stitches after all,” Kalaes was saying. “I think it’s almost stopped bleeding.”

Of course. Rex was fixing Kalaes. Elei bowed his head, relieved Kalaes didn’t seem badly hurt, grateful Rex was looking out for them both. Looks like I owe you one — again.

Chapter Four

Mantis’ safe number wasn’t responding. Instead, a recorded message played. Kalaes passed the receiver to Elei, frowning, a flash of fear going through his eyes, there and gone, like the fin of a shark.

Bad news.

The message was electronic, produced by a distorted human voice. “Confirming time and place as agreed,” it droned. “Will contact you at the Hounds’ lair. Tefnut out.”

Almost made it sound as if Tefnut was the one who’d left the message, but it was their code.

And... crap. That meant they had to return to Zoe’s haunt whether they trusted her or not. They couldn’t change the time and date of the attack, couldn’t ask Mantis and Hera whether they were sure these gang leaders were true to the cause, couldn’t ask them what the flashes Kalaes was seeing might be... Couldn’t do anything but follow the plan and hope it didn’t get them killed.

Fat chance.

“Now what?” Elei hung up, stared at the ancient telespeak for a long moment, then stepped back. The light from the fizzling streetlamp caught Alendra’s fine features and the black tattoo on Kalaes’ cheek.

“Keep to the plan, huh?” Alendra made a wry face and glued her jacket all the way up to her chin. It had to be freezing cold, but Rex showed no signs of relaxing, causing his heart to pump overtime, making him sweat.

He pulled his hood back and wiped his brow. His back throbbed with a deep ache, and the gash in his arm burned like fire. “Do you think someone was eavesdropping, at Iliathan’s place?”

“That or he turned us in,” Kalaes muttered, scowling. “And we can’t even let Hera know.”

“At least no-one knows the real plan,” Alendra said. “They all think we’ll attack for real.”

Yeah, they’d lied to everyone so far, and good thing they had. If it had been a test, they’d all have failed — Iliathan, the gang leaders. Good to know they really couldn’t trust anyone.

But it wasn’t a test, dammit, this was real, and they needed all the help they could get.

***

Darkness was falling across the plain, and agaric groves glowed in the distance, scattered among hamlets. The road wound ahead, phosphorescent fungi at its edges, and curved slightly to the left, toward Teos and Gortyn.

It was a beautiful sight. Festive somehow. Incongruous. Because they were on their way to retrieve a war machine, an instrument of death, and then they’d unleash it on the Gultur capital.

Sourness rose in Hera’s mouth. Gods she was tired of death and pain. She hoped... she really hoped the machine’s presence might avert further bloodshed.

“Let me drive,” Mantis said, leaning over her shoulder and almost giving her a heart attack. Damn boy moved like one of Elei’s possessed cats, noiseless and barely stirring the air he glided through. “We need to turn off the road.” He glanced back at the small convoy of aircars that had rejoined them.

“I am able to follow simple instructions. Speak slowly and enunciate, and I’ll drive.” Hera glared at him, and he grinned.

Totally unaffected. Bastard. Like Kalaes would be, only Kalaes would tease her, and Elei would hide a smile and duck his head, and Alendra would laugh.

Gods, she missed them.

“Turn left at the next K-bloom farm.” He did make an effort to speak slowly. Damn smug kid. “The kids need to rest and we have to regroup and study the map.”

“The kids are not coming with us.” Hera frowned at the road ahead. It was not a question and Mantis pondered the statement, before responding.

“They’re my army,” he said softly. “If I leave them behind, who will fight with us?”

“That is not what I meant,” she said, impatient. She was not happy with kids going to war, but as Mantis had more than once pointed out, these kids were not much younger than her, and the small ones had been sent off to a safe house. So she could not keep protesting.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I mean, they cannot come with us to retrieve the machine. Something might go wrong. We must leave them at a safe place and have them join us when we take over Dakru City.”

Mantis nodded, his lips white. “You’re right. All the more reason to stop at this farm.” He rubbed his face.

“Are you okay?” Hera gave him a hard look.

He nodded again, shrugged.

A structure loomed in the gathering darkness, a storehouse with a small house attached to it.

“Here,” Mantis said.

Hera veered onto a dirt path and into a yard where machinery lay in rusting heaps. Lights came on automatically, highlighting the dirt path and half-blinding her. She hesitated to power down the vehicle, in case they had to make a hasty escape.

“Why here?” Sacmis muttered, her gun at the ready, gray eyes narrowed. “Who is here?”

“My people,” Mantis said.

“I do not think they’re expecting us,” Sacmis said dryly when a group of men burst out of the building, guns in hand.

“I forgot to call in advance.” Mantis winked. “Let me handle this.”

“As if we have a choice.” Sacmis huffed.

“But the others—” Hera began, afraid for the kids in the other aircars.

“Let me.” Mantis opened the aircar door and climbed down the ladder, his pale hair catching the lights like a mirror.

“Wait!” Hera jumped out of the driver’s seat, grabbing her gun, but Sacmis put a hand on her arm.

“Let him clarify things before we make our appearance.”

“We have to protect him.” Hera tried to dislodge Sacmis’ hold, which only tightened. “We cannot let him go out there alone.”

“We can, and we must. Do you really think our presence will help him not get shot on the spot?”

Hera blinked. Two Gultur with longguns appearing behind Mantis — what would it look like? As if they had taken him hostage, perhaps. What was wrong with her? Why was her mind so slow?

“The pills they gave you at the hospital,” Sacmis murmured, and Hera realized to her horror she’d spoken the thought out loud. “The drugs to regulate Regina and keep it under control. The doctor said they might make you drowsy and dizzy. I’ve been looking out for the symptoms, but you seemed to handle it fine.”

The doctor had talked about side effects? Hera dragged a hand over her gritty eyes, trying to clear them. Mantis was walking toward the group of armed mortals, his hands spread wide.

Her fingers clenched around the grip of her gun.

Mantis spoke, gesturing at the gathered aircars, and one by one the guns lowered, the stances relaxed.

All was well.

Which let her thoughts return to the conversation and its nasty truths. “The doctor told you about the pills,” she whispered. “But he did not tell me. He asked you to keep an eye on me, did he not?”

Sacmis nodded.

Right. Because Hera had been half out of her mind. The Echo Princesses’ bane, the curse of Regina’s pure, original strain. A cocktail of hormones spiking to incredible heights and ebbing to dangerous lows, strong enough to hurtle you into madness.

She vaguely recalled laughing and crying, oscillating between fear and mirth — and trying to kill her friends, her family. The doctor probably thought she’d throw away the pills and go on another rampage if he’d told her.

He would have been right.

“Do these pills make me paranoid, too?” She bared her teeth.

“No.” Sacmis shrugged, a smile twitching her lips. “That’s all you.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.” Sacmis tugged her closer and slid an arm around her waist. “And I like you the way you are.”

A sigh rose from deep in Hera’s chest and she allowed herself to be held. She relaxed. Sacmis had not run away screaming from her yet, so maybe there was hope her other friends would forgive her one day.

Meanwhile... “No more pills. I need to be able to think straight if we are to succeed in reaching the war machine and taking over Dakru City.”

Sacmis heaved a sigh of resignation. “I knew you’d say that.”

“You’ll keep watch?” That I do not kill our allies, or anyone innocent of my wrath.

“You do not need to ask,” Sacmis whispered and her eyes shimmered. “You never need to ask. Remember that.”

***

“Hey, pooskers.” Zoe’s smile shone white in the dark opening of the door. “Countersign.”

Elei and Kalaes exchanged a wary look over Alendra’s head.

“Soomi,” Alendra said, “please, stop teasing us, we’ve had a rough day.”

Zoe grinned and threw the door wide. “Come on in. No more teasing.”

Alendra strode inside, Kalaes after her, a brow arched and his shotgun slung ready over one shoulder. Elei followed, heart thumping, expecting just about anything — armed Gultur, a platoon waiting to riddle them with bullets, even a canon.

Soft giggles greeted him. The lights were dim. Rex immediately adjusted Elei’s vision and he saw bright eyes peering at him from behind threadbare couches and under benches.

So much for an attack.

Still, Rex didn’t back down. The outlines blurred as Rex swept the place, locating more people standing at the back of the room. With the colors twinkling it was hard to tell who they were.

One of them spoke a greeting and Elei knew from the voice it was Ifran, Zoe’s second in command, but the others... They stood in a semi-circle, silent, waiting.

Unknown threats.

Elei forced his hand away from his gun. Deep breaths. Calm down.

“Here we are,” Zoe said brightly, her many tiny braids fluttering, dark lines against the pulsing red of her head and chest. “Your army.”

Army. Yeah. Elei’s chest constricted so badly he couldn’t breathe. Dammit, Rex, stop it.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on his feet, the solid ground, the sounds that spoke of normality.

“Dain,” Kalaes said quietly, “you came after all.”

Dain. Oh hells. That was enough to set Rex off again. Damn parasite.

Elei opened his eyes.

Yet another mistake, because he saw Dain moving toward Kalaes, and Rex swept him, picking two metal shapes in blue: two guns holstered at the boy’s belt.

Rex fairly snarled in Elei’s head.

“I didn’t come for you,” Dain said, standing chest-to-chest with Kalaes, hand going to his belt. “I have my reasons. You don’t know...”

His words were drowned by the rising screech inside Elei’s mind. As if in a dream, he drew his Rasmus. Cocked it. Pointed.

“You,” he said, his voice distorted in his own ears. “Drop your gun.”

The pulse went up a notch, the heartbeats of those around him accelerating. He caught small movements out of the corner of his eye — hands reaching for weapons, the children moving restlessly behind the furniture.

His finger closed on the trigger.

“Fe, no.” Kalaes stepped before the target, hand raised. “He hasn’t drawn a gun. Calm down.” The color in his chest was not red but deep purple. Funny how Elei had never noticed that before. Wondered if his own chest pulsed the same color — Rex’s signature?

Rex sort of sagged, releasing its crushing hold. Family, another Rex. Right. Although, come to think of it, the parasite always calmed around Kalaes. Felt safe.

Safe.

The gun slipped from his hand. Kalaes caught it before it hit the ground and clicked the safety back on. The ground rocked like a boat and Elei fought to stay on his feet.

“I don’t think Dain betrayed us,” Kalaes said, calm and quiet, setting a hand on Elei’s shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Elei nodded, drawing a deep breath, willing the colors to fade, his heart to slow. How could Kalaes be sure? How could he trust Dain?

A smaller hand landed on his arm and he flinched, but Alendra’s fresh scent reached him and he relaxed.

“What was that all about?” Zoe asked, her voice a little high.

“Rex,” Kalaes said, not releasing Elei, as if afraid it wasn’t over.

Was it? He’d been sure Dain was about to attack Kalaes, and Rex had reacted, set out to scare Dain — or kill him. Because he’d threatened another Rex.

Threatened Kalaes.

Elei shivered. The colors were finally receding, and he could see Dain’s face — pale, wide-eyed. Shocked. Whether from the death threat or Kalaes’ intervention, Elei couldn’t tell. Dain’s gaze flicked between the two of them.

The leaders watched Elei, tracking his movements, eyes narrow and dark. Angry.

Yeah, Elei thought. I’m not making any friends, am I? He hoped his freak-out wouldn’t send everyone scuttling back into their holes and destroy any chances they had of ending this war.

Kalaes squeezed Elei’s shoulder and turned to Dain. “Did you, fe? Did you betray us?”

“Betray you?” Dain growled. “I did nothing of the sort.” He jabbed a shaky finger at Elei. “And he was going to kill me!”

“We were tracked and almost killed twice this afternoon,” Kalaes snapped, “so he has every right to be jumpy. Do you swear you didn’t turn us in?”

“I swear it,” Dain muttered. “Happy?”

“Are you nuts?” Zoe folded her arms over her chest. “Dain wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, or the resistance. He’s been working with Mantis from the start.”

“Then why did he say he wouldn’t join in?” Alendra asked, echoing the question in Elei’s mind. “And why is he here if he’s not interested?”

“I changed my mind,” Dain muttered. “All right?”

Kalaes shrugged, shoulders tense, and gestured at the threadbare couch. “Let’s all sit down, shall we? We have lots to discuss.”

“You say you were tracked?” Zoe ignored the couch and sat cross-legged on the grimy carpet. “What in the hells, pooskers?”

“How else would the regime know where we’re staying and where we went?” Alendra sat next to Zoe. “Someone knows who we are, the fact that we’re in Artemisia. And we have been followed. There’s no other explanation.”

One by one the others sat down, on the carpet, the couch, the chairs. Kalaes hesitated, then sank next to Zoe, a light flush on his cheeks.

“So what does that mean? Spit it out.”  Zoe elbowed Kalaes lightly in the ribs and frowned when he flinched. “You’re not hurt, are you?” She glanced at Alendra, then at Elei who still stood. “Are you?”

“Kalaes got a bullet graze in his side and Elei...” Alendra glanced at him, then quickly turned away. “We’re fine.”

“Bullet graze?” Zoe gave Kalaes a horrified look. “Let me see that.”

“Later,” Kalaes said, dipping his chin, his face coloring. “It’s stopped bleeding. No big deal.”

Zoe muttered something that sounded like a curse.

“But our apartment was taken over,” Alendra said. “And we were hunted down after we met an informant.”

A hush fell. Even the small movements, the whispers and shuffling stopped. Everyone was paying attention.

Dain lowered himself stiffly sat cross-legged at the other end of the carpet, stealing glances at Elei. He looked pissed, Elei thought as he took his place next to Alendra. Not that he could blame him.

Or believe he hadn’t betrayed them.

Elei clamped down on the worry. Everything’s fine. Hear that, Rex? Besides, Kalaes seemed to think Dain was innocent.

Zoe was staring, and it made Elei damn uncomfortable. His teeth were grinding and he tried to stop while she made the introductions.

Boys and girls of different ages, their faces serious and a little frightened, knives and guns strapped to their belts. Too damn young. Mitt hadn’t made it, Zoe said, but he’d swing by in the morning.

After Zoe was done, everyone’s gaze returned to Elei. He clenched his hands by his sides.

“Glad you all came,” Kalaes said, drawing their attention, to Elei’s relief. “I know it’s not an easy decision, but you have sworn your loyalty to Mantis and you want a world where there is food and a roof over your head, for yourselves and your own. But hey, it’s not magic. It takes work. We’ll create a diversion while the real attack takes place. It might be dangerous, although we’ll do our best to keep you all safe. And we’re in a hurry.”

Kalaes glanced at Ale, then at Elei, as if asking for their permission to speak the words. What difference did it make? “We’ll attack the water treatment plant, west of Dakru City. We’re set for tomorrow night.”

The leaders shifted where they sat, their brows creasing as they mulled this over.

They still didn’t know the truth. Wouldn’t know it until the very last minute. And with Dain in the equation... that suited Elei just fine.

Chapter Five

“So you’re Kalaes’ little brother, huh? I can see the family resemblance.” Zoe grinned at Elei as she dished out a brown mush she’d described as ‘rat stew’.

Not that Elei minded rat; he’d had far worse. Rat was good.

So he took his bowl, lifted a brow and said nothing. His stomach growled as he dug in.

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Elei almost choked. He shook his head as he chewed. Conversation. Make conversation, look unthreatening. A good idea, after raising a gun on Dain. “Why? Interested?”

Zoe shrugged. “Maybe. How come he’s not hooked up with someone?”

Maybe because his previous girlfriend almost gotten us killed? Elei shook his head. “Too busy.”

“I like his smile,” Zoe said and bit her lip.

Seriously? Elei liked Kalaes’ smile, too, but that didn’t mean anything. In fact... He shot a quick glance at Alendra who was talking to Mitt.

“Okay, not only his smile. He’s hot, the whole package.”

Elei frowned at her.

She laughed, a peal of music. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to rip off his clothes and ravish him or anything.”

Good to know, Elei supposed. And thank the gods, too, because if she started ripping off Kalaes’ clothes, Rex might take it as an attack.

He scowled at his bowl and shoved another spoonful into his mouth. Better not think too much or the food may not stay down, and he was hungry, dammit.

Wasn’t there an attack to plan and a world to save?

“It’ll be fine, you know?” Zoe said softly, sitting next to him, toying with her braids.

Really? Then she knew something he didn’t, because it didn’t look fine from where he sat. He nodded anyway, because that was what he was supposed to do.

“We’ll send one of the kids to your informant, someone the regime doesn’t know, to make sure everything’s going according to plan. We’re in this together.”

Yeah. It was reassuring and scary at the same time. He put down his spoon, swallowing a sigh. She seemed nice. But it didn’t matter.

Images from the nightmares rose — Kalaes, Alendra. Dead. The street littered with corpses.

The end of his world.

His hands clenched around the bowl. He placed it carefully on the carpet, not to break it.

Kalaes joined them on the carpet, as if he’d sensed something. He stretched his long legs out. “You all right, fe?”

Elei swallowed and nodded, letting Kalaes’ familiar aura of strength banish the lingering images. “Fine.”

Kalaes arched a brow, clearly not convinced. “Hey, Zoe, are you done interrogating my brother?”

“No, but since you’re here now, I guess it’s your turn.” Zoe winked.

Color rose to Kalaes’ cheeks again. Funny. It seemed to happen a lot when she was around. “I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow,” he said, running a hand though his dark hair. “We’ll need vehicles. And weapons.”

“No problem.” Zoe nodded. “Leave that to me. You get the codes, make sure we can enter that water plant. How long do we have to hold the place?”

“Not long,” Kalaes said, his face blank as the lie rolled off his tongue.

Not long at all. Because they wouldn’t try to take it.

“So we move tomorrow night,” Zoe said, face thoughtful. “Where’s the map?”

A boy Elei couldn’t place rose from a nepheline chair and shook a map out, laid it on the floor. The other leaders closed in, kneeling, young faces drawn in serious lines.

Why did he suddenly feel so old?

“Close to the plant there’s an old refueling station,” Kalaes said. “We can regroup there and organize the attack.” He sounded so serious and honest. “I’ve passed through there many times on my way to the mines and factories.”

“Why would you do that?” a girl muttered.

Kalaes frowned. “I worked as a truck driver.”

“You worked for the regime,” Dain said, his voice accusing.

“It was a job,” Kalaes said. “It put food on the table. Everyone did it.”

“Get off his case, Dain,” Zoe said curtly. “Don’t act as if we’ve been above it all. I’ve worked for the regime, too. The only other option is the docks.”

A shiver went though Kalaes. “Anything’s better than the damn docks.”

Elei was about to ask why, when one of the faces in the group caught his eye and stopped him cold. Something was familiar about the light-haired boy and the dark-haired girl who was leaning on his shoulder, talking in his ear. She grinned, her teeth black, like a smile of death.

Who was she?

“Tau,” she said, her low voice echoing. “You should tell them.”

Tau. The name landed like a punch to Elei’s chest, making him gasp. He was back in an alley, shot and bleeding, dirty fingers digging into the wound in his side, large eyes laughing at him. The image from his nightmares rose like a ghost in front of him –bodies around him, Pelia, Kalaes, Alendra, still, too still — and he couldn’t draw breath.

Zoe made as if to pat his arm and he flinched, too scattered and strung thin. He turned to Alendra, but she fiddling with her gun.

It wasn’t happening. He wasn’t in the alley.

But he couldn’t breathe. The world spangled and glittered, the faces growing long muzzles, the colors jumping.

Not again, not so soon. His heart pounded, his teeth grated together. He needed to get out. Grabbing the side of the couch, he lurched to his feet. The voices rose, loud but indistinct. He had to get out right now. Freaking out on the gang leaders twice in a day wouldn’t be good.

He thought he heard his name but he staggered toward the door and kept going, a ghost pain in his side where Pelia had injected him with the Rex capsule. Pushing doors, more doors, he kept moving until cold air hit him in the face and he drew a shuddering breath.

Holy gods.

Rex roared, demanding he act, shoot, hit, run. His legs shook and sourness rose in his throat.

Just a memory. He forced air into his lungs. Just a memory, Rex, hear that?

He heard steps and glanced up. Thought he saw Alendra at the door of the building, all golden reflections, but when he blinked she wasn’t there.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. The dreams. They filtered into his waking life, mixed with the memories, merged with the suddenness of Tau’s appearance, and completely screwed him over.

His legs buckled and he leaned against the uneven wall to steady himself.

Ow dammit. Fire flared in his back, squeezing the breath from his lungs. He slid down the wall, fighting dizziness.

What a crappy night.

Two sets of steps sounded in the alley and backlit figures hurried toward him. Shit, he’d scared someone again. He struggled to stand when he recognized Kalaes and Zoe. Not Alendra — yeah, that had been a hallucination.

He inched up the wall, a hand braced on the colorful graffiti.

“What’s wrong?” Kalaes hissed, striding toward him. “Are you okay?”

“He’s shaking,” Zoe said, putting a hand to Elei’s cheek. Her palm was burning hot. “Damn, you’re freezing, poosker. Are you sick?”

“I’m okay,” Elei said, but all he wanted was to slide back down and let the dark swallow him.

“I think all the running today caught up with him,” Kalaes said and pulled him off the wall, making him groan as bruised muscles pulled across his back. “Oh,” Kalaes said, “shit.”

“What?” Zoe’s voice was strangely distant. “We’ll find him a bed roll. Come on.”

“It’s the adrenaline spikes. You kinda drop like a rock afterward.” Kalaes hauled Elei back into the building.

Through the static in his mind, Elei realized they were crossing the hall where everyone sat. It should’ve been damn mortifying, but by now he was shaking too hard to care.

His teeth chattered. Had he been that long outside? He’d lost track of time. He straightened and tugged his arm, but Kalaes didn’t let go. Glancing about, he tried to see the two faces again, the boy and the girl with the black teeth, but couldn’t. Had they been real?

He was dragged into a small room that smelled of mold and then pushed down on a stained mattress. Kalaes passed him a blanket and sank next to him. “I’ve got this,” he said to someone — Zoe, probably.

Elei took a shuddering breath.

“All right, fe, what happened back there?” Kalaes demanded. “Why did’ya run out like that?”

The door creaked and Elei thought he saw golden eyes peeking in. Gone again. More hallucinations. He should take the medicine to suppress Rex; the parasite was getting out of control.

Of course, now that he remembered, the medicine had been in the apartment. All gone. He shivered and gathered the blanket around him. He wished Cat was there. He wished...

“Elei?” Kalaes’ concerned face swam back into view. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. Just... memories.”

Kalaes nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he did. “What doesn’t kill you, screws with your head,” he said sagely.

Couldn’t argue with that one.

Kalaes sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me. Take off your jacket. I want to check your back.” When Elei hesitated, he leaned forward, brows drawn together. “You don’t want Ale to see the snakeskin. I get that. But something knocked you out cold and left you all shaky, and I want to see for myself that you’re okay.” When Elei still didn’t move, Kalaes’s hands fisted. “Will you take off that pissing jacket already?”

Carefully Elei shrugged the jacket off, hot jabs of pain stabbing his back, and turned to look at the wall.

“Holy netherhells,” Kalaes hissed. “Holy... What happened?”

Shit, what now?

A hand fell on Elei’s shoulder, then his shirt was ripped open and cool air washed over his back, making him shiver. He barely felt the fingertips pressing on the snakeskin.

“What is it?” he bit out.

Kalaes cursed, then snorted. “Gods dammit, fe. Always full of surprises. Pissing gods in the deep.”

That didn’t sound promising. A tap against the snakeskin sent vibrations and pain down his spine. “Kal?” He swallowed to clear the hoarseness from his voice. “What’s going on?”

Something pressed against his back, and gods it hurt like a bitch. “Let it be said that telmion can even stop pissing bullets. Nature’s own flak jacket. Hold still.”

Another jolt went through Elei and white-hot pain streaked down his ribs to his arm. He hissed and closed his eyes, nauseous.

When he opened them again, Kalaes was waving an irregularly shaped bit of metal in the air. “The bullet, fe. You’re a goddamn lucky bastard. It hit you right in the thickest part of the snakeskin. Looks like it fragmented a little, too. A piece of shrapnel scratched your arm.”

That would explain the gash in his arm. And the blood. Elei groaned. Might also explain why he felt like shit.

“You have a hell of a bruise already,” Kalaes muttered and sank down on the mattress, as if his legs couldn’t hold him. He rolled the flattened bullet in the palm of his hand. “Maybe the bullet stopped your heart for a moment. Pissing hells, I should never have gone in before you. What sort of a big brother does that? It’s my job to protect you, dammit.”

“I’m sorry,” Elei whispered, not even sure what for. For freaking you out. For dragging you into a war. For messing up your life.

“Ah shut up, bro.” He ruffled Elei’s hair, taking advantage dammit, because Elei didn’t have the energy to dodge. “Hells, I used to be grateful for Rex. Never thought I’d feel grateful for telmion, too.”

Elei said nothing. He was grateful. It was just... Alendra. How would she react if she saw his whole back covered in tel-marks? Marks so thick they could stop a bullet?

“One day,” Kalaes muttered, gaze turned inward. “One day you won’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’ll go to school, you’ll have a warm place to call home and...” His jaw clenched. “Some day it’ll happen, kid. I promise.”

A home.

Elei forced down the protest — not a kid, never was, and who says you’re that old?— and nodded. Because he believed Kalaes, believed he’d try, but as for getting there...

“Sleep, fe.” Kalaes turned his face away, his voice thick. “It’ll all look better tomorrow.”

Same old hope.

***

The kids, Mantis’ little soldiers, polished off the meager supper offered by the farmers and curled in the room adjacent to the long dining room to sleep. Hera watched from the doorway as a slight woman moved among them, touching their heads, murmuring something.

Her hand clenched at her side. She turned her back to them and returned to Mantis’ side.

“Got word for you. The pillars are up and running,” a muscular man with hair gray like gunmetal muttered into his cup of liquor.

“All of them?” Hera asked.

He shrugged. “Most of them. Enough to fry anyone approaching over the bridges or from the sea. As a matter of fact, the protection system seems to be all-encompassing. We’ve been told even the airforce stationed on the other islands can’t approach us.”

A slow grin spread over Mantis’ face like sunrise on a clear day.

“Sobek’s balls,” Hera muttered.

“Yeah.” The man looked over his cup rim at Mantis. “I assume war is on us.”

Mantis’ grin faded. He stared back, his eyes bright.

“You’re hiding something.” A slight woman dressed in a K-bloom farmers nepheline overalls, tapped her fingers on the table that was still covered in dirty dishes. “You’re heading west. I know these areas. I could go with you, lead you—”

“No,” Mantis and Hera said at the same time.

“Mantis,” an old man with a beard said, his light blue eyes flicking nervously from Hera to Sacmis. “We have always helped you. Surely you trust us.”

“I do. With my life.” Mantis pushed ash-blond hair out of his eyes, hunched over the table. He lifted a brow, smiling. “Any more questions?”

Someone chuckled, and the mood lightened.

“Yes, I’ve got one.” The boy looked to be Mantis’ age, his hair shorn close to the scalp. “What are you planning to do there, in the middle of nowhere, and why do you think it’s too dangerous for us?” He lifted a slender hand when Mantis started to protest. “I know you, man, and I know that’s the only reason you’d refuse our help.”

Hera took a step back, taking in the people of the farm. Ten of them, strong and gruff, no-nonsense adults. All bowing to Mantis. They trusted him. Liked him. Were prepared to die for him.

Like everyone in the resistance she’d met so far.

The angry boy she’d met years ago had given way to a strong young man. It was as if he’d managed to transform his anger into something else, into energy for good. Kindness. Determination.

Something nagged at the back of her mind, another significant realization, a conclusion of grave importance, but she could not yet grasp it.

Damn pills.

“Danger is following us everywhere,” Mantis was saying, his smile turned grave. “This isn’t anything worse.”

Liar, Hera thought, glad he was not about to spill the secret even to people in his trust.

“Then what is it?” the boy asked.

“We’re going to meet someone who might help us gain the advantage in this fight.”

Someone. As if the war machine was a person. Hera swallowed a snort. Soon they’d be giving it a pet name.

The image of the hive deep under the island of Ert rose in her memory like a phantom ship and she shivered. Had there been a hive where the war machine was kept? She could not recall much from that evening and their mad dash through the tunnels, desperate to secure the knowledge of the weapons and find the way back up.

“And what about them?” someone said, and Hera looked up to find a finger pointed in her direction. “They’re Gultur.”

She tried to smile and look harmless. The way her mouth pulled she probably looked like a rabid dog. Hi mortal, she wanted to say. I’m your worst nightmare. What are you going to do about it?

She shuddered to think what she’d be like without the pills.

But at least she’d be able to think. And remember. And plan ahead. These people — the people of the Seven Islands — did not need a nice little friend. They needed a strong ally.

She had to be strong again.

“Meet Hera and Sacmis,” Mantis said, sweeping his hand toward them. His eyes were warm and damn serious when he said in the growing silence, “They are our hope.”

Chapter Six

Bony fingers dug into Elei’s side, past his ribs, right through him. “Did you dig out the bullet, man?”

Elei frowned. There had been no bullet, had there? “Piss off.”

The girl took a step back and raised her hands. “Relax. They’re all dead anyway.”

Bodies, the whole street strewn with them; Pelia, her white blouse splattered with crimson, Kalaes, his dark hair soaked in blood, Alendra’s slender limbs twisted — and hundreds more.

All dead. All gone.

He sank to his knees, unbearable heat rising from the asphalt. The image wavered, then faded. He struggled to breathe, to move, to see them again — and woke.

The room materialized around him; unfamiliar walls, the feel of a scratchy coverlet drawn up to his chin. He was curled on his side, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, warm and fuzzy from sleep.

Soft voices were speaking somewhere behind him. Two people talking. He blinked at the bare wall.

“I do care.” Ale’s voice was a faint whisper. “It scares me.”

Elei frowned. Was he still dreaming? The words made no sense. He fought to get his limbs to move so he could turn.

“I get it,” Kalaes said. “He frightened you tonight. Hells, he scared the holy crap out of me. But he survived. He survived telmion, and cronion, and Rex, and being riddled with bullets. What I’m saying is... He’s a survivor. Just remember that.”

“Sh. You’ll wake him,” Alendra whispered.

Elei froze.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s out cold.”

They sat in silence for a moment and Elei thought of moving, but then Alendra spoke again.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t say that,” Kalaes muttered. “You’ll break his heart again, dammit.”

Break his heart. Ridiculous. Elei closed his eyes. Then again, it might explain the pain in his chest.

“I’m just keeping some distance. You make it sound as if I’ve left him on a bare mountain top to die.”

“Maybe you have.”

“There are moments I think to the hells with it, live for now, get all you can from this moment,” Alendra said. “And then it’s like I can’t breathe and need time to find my courage again.” She puffed out a breath. “Besides, you’re one to preach. You didn’t take any more strays after Pelia Enu left, did you? I’ve been listening to your conversations over the weeks, piecing things together. You didn’t, because you were afraid they’d die, just like the ones left under your care. You even sent those who survived, like Dain, away. Didn’t want to live through it again. Tell me, how is this different?”

Kalaes drew a hitching breath.

Elei opened his eyes, glanced over his shoulder and found Kalaes staring right at him, pain in his eyes. Kalaes winked, though, mouth curling in a knowing half-smile.

He knew Elei was awake, that he was listening.

“You got me all figured out, Ale,” Kalaes drawled. “I’m a coward.”

Alendra had her back to him, her head bowed, hair catching silver fire from the faint light of the open door. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry.” Her body trembled. “I just... I don’t know how...”

“Dammit, it’s okay,” Kalaes said, turning and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He gave her a small shake and smiled. “Sounds like I should be making some amends, huh?”

Alendra said nothing for long moment. Time stretched into a path, a road. She slumped over. “Yeah, maybe you should.”

Nothing more.

But Elei understood her fear, and if she thought Kalaes had been wrong, then maybe, somewhere deep inside, she thought she was wrong, too.

***

Elei woke to the gray light of dawn. He was staring at the bare concrete of the ceiling, a web of cracks and humidity stains, and a rectangular skylight set high on the wall.

It took him a moment to remember where he was and why. The scars in his thigh and chest itched, the fracture in the thighbone ached. Bruises and scratches from the latest encounter with the Gultur in the street flared in protest as he sat up, the blanket pooling around him.

He scratched at a scab on his chin, waiting for the headache to subside. He was a wreck. Briefly he wondered how he’d move around when he got old. Remembered he may not survive tonight, and forced himself to get up.

A small noise made him turn. Golden hair spilled on the floor, a small body wrapped in a dark blanket. He stilled, but Alendra didn’t wake up, only curled up and sighed, her breathing easing out.

The air in the hall was warm and heavy. He stalked among sleeping bodies, some very small, and made his way to the door.

Outside the cold air kicked him in the face, waking him completely. Further down the alley, trash was being stirred by the warm air rising from a grid. Were they standing on top of an underground passage?

He was about to go back inside when he heard Kalaes’ voice, from behind a fire escape a few feet away. What was it with him walking into people’s conversations these days?

“I thought you had weapons and vehicles.” An exasperated huff from Kalaes. “I thought Mantis warned you we’d need them.”

Elei stopped where he was.

“This is Artemisia,” Zoe said, her tone strained. “Right at the gates of Dakru City. You can’t hide aircars in your basement.”

Elei hesitated. He should go back inside. Besides, although he understood Kalaes’ concern, Zoe seemed confident she’d get everything they needed in time

But there was an itch at the back of his neck that set off Rex’s alarms. Not enough to raise the colors, but his pulse accelerated. He scanned the alley, the street beyond, looked up at small, barred windows and the fire escape.

Nothing moved, apart from the trash swirling at the vent. False alarm. Had to be nerves.

“But the attack’s tonight,” Kalaes was saying, “when are we going to get the supplies?”

“I’ll find the guns and the vehicles, don’t worry. Listen, there’s something else you need to know.” Zoe lowered her voice. “Rumors of course, but still. A new type of Gultur has appeared.”

“And what exactly does that mean? What’s their damn mutation — do they run on all fours? Do they eat people?”

Elei suppressed a shudder.

“I don’t know. Nothing that radical, I hope. But they’re out and about, hunting. Nobody knows for what.” Her voice dropped to the barest of whispers. “They’re the ones who survived Rex.”

Oh gods. He’d known many Gultur had died from Rex, others had been interned in hospitals, and others had mellowed and had started talks with the Resistance. Though the Resistance had proved corrupt, and who knew how these new Gultur were? Both Rex and Regina were aggressive. Put the two together...

“Great,” Kalaes said. “Pissing great. Another thing to worry over.” A pause. “Don’t tell Elei and Ale yet. I’ll tell them myself.”

“I like your brother,” Zoe said. “He’s cute. And you’re not bad yourself.”

Deciding he’d heard enough, Elei hurried back inside and closed the door quietly behind him.

He turned — and froze.

Eyes blinked in the faint light. Children, he realized, sitting on their bedrolls, observing him.

“You’re Elei,” a little girl said, dark hair like a cloud around her face. “Zoe says you’ll make everything better.”

“We’ll have beds!” A boy gave a gap-toothed smile. “And sweets.”

“Please, Elei.” The girl’s small mouth quivered. “Pleeeeeaze.”

Elei swallowed, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t say ‘yes, I’ll save you,’ but he didn’t have the heart to say no. He backed away.

And walked right into Alendra who yelped and stumbled. He grabbed her arm to steady her. Suddenly he was close, so close, feeling her warmth, inhaling her fresh scent. Her wide, golden eyes were inches from his.

“You’re okay,” she said. “When I didn’t find you, I thought...” She shook her head and pulled away. “Never mind.”

“You thought what?” He didn’t want to let go but stepped back nevertheless, fisting his hands at his sides not to touch her.

She shrugged, her eyes glittering, and sidestepped, moving towards the children. “I’ll fix them something to eat.”

He followed her under the insistent stares of the little ones. “I’ll help.”

She smiled, a fleeting burst of light, and the ice in his chest cracked.

He chopped mushrooms and boiled water, catching glimpses of her graceful hands stirring the pot, catching her bright eyes on him, and tingles ran up and down his spine. The children clustered around them, small hands patting his legs, thin arms winding around his knees, but he didn’t feel like bolting from the room anymore.

“Will you tell me what happened last night?” Alendra asked as he poured the water into the pot.

He almost scalded himself. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you stumble out of the building. You looked as if you’d seen a ghost.”

His hand hovered in mid-air, holding the kettle. “I saw two kids,” he found himself saying. He poured the rest of the water and placed the kettle carefully on the counter.

She lifted a brow. “There are lots of kids here.” But she didn’t laugh or wink. She waited.

“Maybe I imagined it,” he said. “A boy... his name is Tau. And a girl with blackened teeth.”

She replaced the lid on the pot, leaned down to pat a red-headed boy who was clutching her leg. “I don’t remember them. Why?”

So he’d imagined them. Gods below. He wiped his shaking hands on his pants and said nothing.

“What’s wrong? They did something to you, didn’t they? Kal said you were beaten up when you arrived in Dakru. Was it them?”

“No, I think... they tried to help me.” He wasn’t sure. His memories of that night he’d arrived on the central island were hazy and mixed-up. The girl had tried to dig out the bullet... and then they’d run away like mice. He’d probably scared them, covered in blood and with his mismatched eyes, signs of his parasite.

“Talk to me, Elei.”

“They worked for a man and his gang.” He shivered, remembering hands closing around his neck, pressing, cutting off his air. He choked.

A hand slipped into his and he looked up, startled. Alendra squeezed his fingers. “They can’t hurt you now,” she said, serious.

The pressure of her hand, her warmth loosened the noose around his neck and he breathed. But before he could think of anything to say, the kids scuttled under the tables and counters, and Zoe came in, Kalaes on her heels.

“The food’s burning, soomi!” she called.

Alendra cursed, letting go and returning to her pot. Elei clenched his hand, his body still humming, and almost missed Kalaes winking at him.

Hells.

“Food is burned,” a little voice said by his leg and he saw a tiny girl with sagging pigtails and mournful eyes. She couldn’t be more than three. His throat clogged as he reached down and she took his hand solemnly, as if sealing a deal.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been so scared of talking to the little ones before. He’d promised Afia he’d take care of the children. He’d sworn.

He took a bracing breath. “We’ll go get weapons, and sweets,” he said, wondering just how crazy he sounded and why exactly he was doing this, “and we’ll fix everything. You’ll see.”

When he straightened, Zoe cupped his cheek, her dark gaze oddly bright and searching. “I asked you what you were,” she said and smiled. “It’s exactly this.”

***

Hera stood next to their aircar in the gray morning light, squinting into the distance. The mountains of Dakru loomed silver at the horizon, wreathed in white flames, and the sight had never moved her this way before. Not nostalgia or awe but curiosity as to whether their slopes were metal, reflecting the early sunrays.

The foray into the underworld had changed her world — or her eyes, so that she saw everything differently.

Knowledge hurt. It also helped, and that made it worth the pain.

“Having second thoughts?” Mantis came to lean against the aircar, arms folded over his chest. He was dressed in dark clothes, as always, black pants and a dakron-gray shirt that made his pale hair glint like silver.

“And if I were,” Hera said, “would it matter?”

He shook his head. “I second-guess myself all the time. I was wondering if you do, too. I’m told it’s a human trait.” He smirked, raised a brow. Goading her.

Teasing, Kalaes’ voice whispered inside her head. Just teasing. We mortals do that. It’s a sign of friendliness.

She made a show of rubbing her nose against the morning chill, hiding her expression. “You dare accuse me of a lowly mortal’s doubts?”

She waited and heard his breath quicken, then a soft snort.

“Are you poking fun at me, Hera?”

She shrugged. “I do my best.”

He laughed, the infectious, clear laughter she remembered from their first meeting at Calydon, before they’d crossed to Ert and explored the tunnels. It made her smile.

“You’ve changed,” he said, jabbing a finger at her, through his grin was wide. “When I met you, you were a serious girl.”

“You want to test my seriousness, mortal?” Hera snarled and was rewarded with more laughter.

Gods, if only they could stay there, forget about the war machine and the upcoming battle. She’d never felt so afraid in her life. Had never had so much to lose.

And then she wondered if she’d still feel that way once the effect of the pills wore off. If she’d stop being so human, and if she would not give a damn if she never heard Kalaes’ teasing again, or Mantis’ laughter again.

Or Sacmis’ voice...

“Even if we enter Dakru City,” she said, “even if luck is on our side and we take the whole government hostage, how long do you think we will last? They’ll still have Bone Tower, the heart of the Gultur faith and military. My race will not capitulate while Bone Tower stands.”

“We’ll wear them down,” Mantis said cautiously. “We’ll capture the Palace of Dakru City. Surely that will break the regime’s confidence?”

Hera patted her hair that was braided and wrapped around her head; battle hairdo. “It might.” Or not. She frowned. “One war machine will not win the war. What else do you have up your sleeve?”

He slid her a sidelong glance, challenging. “I have the best army in the world.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mantis. They’re untrained kids.”

Gods, let him have thought this through.

“I’ve been training them for years.” He rubbed his chin. He had not even grown a beard yet. “They’re ready. We’re ready.”

She waited.

“Chill, Hera.” He actually patted her arm and she fought not to flinch, she was so strung up with nerves and misgivings. “You don’t think I can pull this off?”

Hurt flashed through his gaze when she did not deny it.

“Nothing personal,” Hera said, feeling like a thug. “I trust no-one.”

He smiled at that. “Then let me reassure you: everything’s in place for the attack.” He leaned closer, his pale hair, so much like Sacmis’, brushing her cheek. He smelled of male musk and bitter dakron fumes. Utterly mortal. Human. “My people are inside the capital, inside the Palace, waiting. My people are hiding in the outskirts of Dakru City, with stolen aircars and all the weapons we could gather, grenades and guns and rockets, waiting. They’ve been waiting for my signal ever since you emerged from the underworld. It’s all set up. We only need to open the gates and set the cannons of the war machine on the Palace. The regime won’t know what hit them.”

Hera swallowed hard. “Good,” she said.

“We were prepared to launch the attack without the benefit of the war machine. We’re been working on it for years.”

Yeah, he’d thought it through. She relaxed more as they watched daylight splinter the gray of the horizon, filling the cracks with gold.

“What worries me,” Mantis said quietly, “is Bone Tower and its fleet.”

Hera nodded. “The Attalids.”

“I heard they can blow up a war machine, or a whole city.”

“If the distraction does not work, if they see us coming and send for the Attalids, we might as well shoot ourselves and be done with it.”

Mantis was quiet for a while. “We’re a ragtag army,” he finally said, his eyes dark in the gray light. “I wish we could strike Bone Tower; I wish we had a fleet of our own to destroy their aircraft and bring down the temple.” He shrugged. “We’ll do all we can and it’ll have to be enough.”

“I do not doubt we have to do this,” Hera whispered, turning her gaze back to the distant mountains. “But I do not like it.”

“Neither do I, m’lady.” Mantis’ voice turned heavy with sadness. He ambled to stand next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s hope it will soon be over.”

One way or another, Hera thought and sighed.

Chapter Seven

“We’ll find you guns,” Dain said, watching the others from under lowered lashes. He tucked a strand of dirty blond hair behind an ear. “I can get you automatics and a couple machine guns.”

“Sounds good,” Zoe said, nodding. “What else is on offer?”

Elei rubbed his temples. It was early afternoon. It had to be cold in the room, because Alendra was shivering, but he couldn’t feel it. He wasn’t convinced about Dain’s innocence and Rex was still doing a war dance inside his skull.

“I have one condition. No young ones will participate in this.” Dain glanced at Elei, then back at Zoe, avoiding Kalaes’ gaze. “I’ll be the only one joining you from my gang.”

“No young ones,” Alendra repeated, her tone quieter and friendlier than it had ever been with Dain before. “We said so.”

Dain narrowed his eyes, hand toying with an unlit ama cig. “Then we’re on.” He tapped the cig on the floor. “I keep my promises, too. To you, and to my kids.”

The pounding in Elei’s head went down a notch and he lowered his hands. He kinda liked Dain’s dedication to his gang kids, he had to grudgingly admit, and with that Rex backed down, leaving him blinking.

He’d been getting used to the constant headache, and now it was practically gone. Gods, he wasn’t putting his faith in this Dain, was he? The guy had all but threatened Kalaes, and just because he cared for his gang didn’t mean he was off the hook. Did it?

Rex stayed relatively quiet, tucked in the back of his mind, a soft hammering behind his eye the only indication it wasn’t entirely happy.

Then again, without the medicine, maybe it was just an indication that Rex was getting stronger.

Kalaes was rubbing his blue eye as if it hurt.

“We heard from your contact, Iliathan,” Zoe said. “I sent two kids to check with him. He says he’s ready for us, cracked the codes and can get us inside.” She slanted a look at Elei. “He also asked if you guys were okay.”

Yeah. Was Iliathan concerned and blameless, or pretending?

“I can find you grenades,” Mitt said, pale green eyes observing them all. “Explosive and smoke bombs. Also pyros.”

“What’s that?” Elei muttered.

“Bottles with dakron powder and a wick. You light them and...” Mitt fluttered his hands, “... boom.”

Elei flinched — and why in the hells did Rex take his reflex reaction as an excuse to rise again? He swallowed a groan.

Kalaes nodded. “Sounds good.”

“I s’pose I can find us some guns, too,” a tall girl with a long ponytail said. Elei couldn’t remember her name. “The Alleycats are with you.”

“And the aircars we need?” one of Mitt’s girls asked.

“I know a poosker near Aerica. He promised me three cars.” Zoe gently shoved a tiny boy toward the other kids who huddled around a short-haired girl, playing with pieces of paper and nepheline. The girl gathered the child close and whispered something in his ear.

Had Albi held him like that? Elei remembered how strong her arms had felt around him, all the way to the end. He wrenched his gaze away.

Three aircars. They should do. It wasn’t like they would be moving from Artemisia.

“I can find us some more grenades,” another girl said, short and chubby with dark pigtails. “And handguns.”

“The Gutter Gang will look for fuel,” a girl with a shaved head offered, and a boy with a long braid standing at her shoulder nodded enthusiastically.

Their voices rose in excitement, arguing who would get what and when they would be ready, where they’d meet and which route they’d take.

Elei’s pulse rose like thunder, drowning out the sounds. He was vaguely aware he was getting up, drawing his Rasmus.

“Oh hells,” he heard Kalaes say, and turned to see him standing. “Trouble.”

“What are you talking about?” Zoe scrambled to her feet, her chest pulsing a deep crimson. “I have watchdogs posted all around. This is a safe place, nobody knows it.”

“If they say there’s trouble, we’d better get our asses moving,” Alendra said. “Let’s take the kids out.”

Someone had betrayed them again, and Elei glanced at Dain’s direction, finger itching to pull the trigger, but they were moving, herding the children, breaking into small groups, and he couldn’t tell them apart — moving targets made of pulsing colors. To Rex, they were all the same.

“Dera!” Zoe gestured at the tall girl who’d been with the kids. “Take them to Mr. Konny’s. He’s promised to help. Go now!”

Dera nodded, young face pale with fear, and grabbed one of the smallest in her arms. “Will you come, too?”

“Soon. Take the back door. Go!”

Two of the older kids grabbed small ones in their arms and by the hands and herded them down a corridor Elei hadn’t explored.

“Split up,” Kalaes said, his voice coming in echoes. “All of you go, keep in groups, and pretend not to hurry, get it?”

The blobs of color moved, dividing into twos and threes.

“Use the garbage chute. The screws are loose,” Zoe said, “Mitt, you know what I’m talking about, lead them.”

“Dain, stay,” Kalaes said, damn him. Just what Rex needed to resume shrieking in Elei’s ears.

Although... A tiny rational voice in the back of Elei’s mind was pleased. Have Dain close, keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t betray them.

Yeah, that was good.

“Why in the hells do you want Dain with us?” Alendra hissed. “You’re mad.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Kalaes drawled.

“What’s this about?” Dain’s voice sounded high-pitched, on the verge of panic. “You’re not going to execute me or anything, are you?”

“Not if you shut your mouth,” Kalaes said.

As the other gang leaders left, the feeling of wrongness intensified, raising the hairs on Elei’s nape, tensing his muscles. His fingers clenched on the grip of his Rasmus.

A familiar buzzing reached his ears. Engines. “We need to leave, now.”

“Wait,” Kalaes said, placing a hand on Elei’s shoulder. How could he remain so calm?

“What for?”

“For them to get out of earshot,” Kalaes muttered, leaning close.

Elei ground his teeth and forced his shaking legs not to move. “They’re here, Kal. The police.”

“I know. Zoe, can you get us out?”

“Hot air ducts,” Zoe said and started toward one of the sleeping rooms. “Hurry.”

Finally, they were moving. Elei’s heart beat so fast he thought he might be sick. Sweat slicked his palms and he tightened his hold on the Rasmus, afraid it might slip and fall.

Time lurched and started, breaking into uneven chunks. They ran through corridors, crossed a room and came to a stop inside a bathroom. Zoe climbed on a stool and unscrewed a grid from the wall.

“You have central heating? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kalaes muttered.

“Bah, it’s never worked, soomi.” The screws tinkled to the floor, loud as explosions to Elei’s ears, and he made himself move. He holstered his gun and reached up to take the lid.

“Go,” he said.

Zoe pulled herself up and shimmied into the vent. Kalaes gave Alendra a leg up, then Dain, and turned to Elei.

“Your turn, fe. You’re not staying last again, are we clear?”

Elei opened his mouth to refuse, remembered the guilt in Kalaes’ eyes the previous night, and closed it. He reached up and pulled himself into the opening. It was cold and smelled of rat droppings and mold. Familiar scents, and with Rex to the fore he saw the vent stretching ahead, the heartbeats of the others flaring like torches.

He heard Kalaes replace the lid and shuffle behind him, cursing softly as his wide shoulders scraped the vent, sending shivers through the metal.

“You okay?” Elei whispered.

“I’d answer you,” Kalaes said, “but I need to hold my breath to fit in here.” He inhaled. “Oh, crap.”

***

The vent ended in an alley no wider than a corridor. Elei wiggled out and took stock. It looked like a dead-end.

Zoe, who had been waiting for them outside, turned around and started walking. Hoping she knew what she was doing, Elei waited for Kalaes to emerge puffing and cursing, and followed.

Rex reluctantly subsided a notch as they entered another rundown building, with deep cracks in its walls and the stench of urine slithering in its corners. A whistle sounded from outside, and a girl materialized in the gloom of the entrance hall, dark hair hanging in her eyes, black pants riding low on her hips.

“Zoe?” She gaped at them.

“We need to cross to the docks and that means going through Seagull territory. Can you arrange passage?”

The girl chewed on her lip and nodded. “They’re after you, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. Look, I know you chose to remain neutral. It’s just this once. I’ll owe you.”

“As if I have a choice.” The girl sighed theatrically. “Who denies the queen of the east side?”

“Well, then.” Zoe grinned. “Good, because there’s one more thing. I need your rats to send a message to certain gang leaders. Tell them the plan remains as was and we meet tonight, at the agreed time, at the western water tower.” She rattled off the names of the leaders who’d agreed to help.

All was going according to plan. They’d only have to make sure they were at the meeting point early to explain it to the gang leaders.

Kalaes cleared his throat and Elei wondered if he’d tell her the truth.

“What is it?” Zoe gave him a wary look.

“Don’t tell Mitt,” Kalaes said. His blue eye seemed to glow in the twilight.

“Why not?” Alendra shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Wasn’t Dain the one we suspected?”

“Yeah, wasn’t I the bad guy?” Dain drawled.

“Trust me,” Kalaes said.

“Kal?” Elei studied the older boy’s face but it was set in grim and tired lines.

“Mitt was flashing,” Kalaes said. “His girls, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dain muttered.

“Yeah, better not tell Mitt,” Elei agreed. He had no clue what the flashing meant, but Iliathan had been flashing too, apparently, and it didn’t appear to be a good thing.

“You’re both nuts,” Dain huffed, and Zoe made a small harrumphing noise in the back of her throat.

“So...” The dark-haired girl glanced from one to the other, then turned to Zoe. “I won’t tell Mitt. I’ll let the others know. I’ll notify the rats about your passage.”

And that was that. The girl turned and vanished into the darkness.

“Queen of the east side?” Kalaes winked at Zoe. “I think your palace has been overrun, Highness.”

Zoe shook her many braids and winked right back, leading the way deeper into the building. “Where the Queen goes, the palace follows, poosker. If you wish to serve me, I’ll graciously create a position for you. Like undressing me at bedtime, what say you?”

That won a laugh from Kalaes, the first real laugh Elei had heard from him in a while. “I’m speechless.”

“That’d be a first,” Alendra grumbled as they exited into a passage lit with bare bulbs in the walls.

They fell quiet as they trudged through a maze of winding passages that made Elei wonder what the place had been. A storehouse? A room rental?

A whiff of fried fish hit him, along with the tang of salt from the sea. They hurried through a doorway into a dead end crowded with piles of trash and a small food stand. The old woman tending the pan under a sputtering lamp post gave them a blank stare and said nothing as they pulled on their hoods and stalked out toward the brighter lights of the avenue.

“Why the docks?” Elei asked as they crossed between stalling aircars, through the din of honks and hoots and calls from stall-tenders with offers of sageron tea, fried fungi and K-blooms.

His stomach grumbled. Sugar.

Shut up, Rex. No way was he feeding the parasite. Without the medicine, laying off sugar was the only way to control it.

But Kalaes stopped, turned as if in a trance and headed toward one of the K-bloom stalls. What was he doing?

Elei blinked.

Then he knew. Oh shit.

“Kal, no!” He ran and, grabbed Kalaes around the waist before he snatched the K-blooms from the top of the stall. He dragged him away. “No sweet. Can’t feed Rex. Come on.”

“Let me go, fe.” Sweat ran down Kalaes face as he tried to tear himself free. “I just want some K-blooms.”

“No,” he said. “You can’t. No way.”

Alendra caught Kalaes’ arm and helped Elei pull him away.

Zoe hurried after them, Dain in tow. “What’s going on?” she hissed. “What in the five hells are you doing, Kalaes?”

Elei hauled Kalaes across the avenue, dodging aircars and vendors pushing carts. “Which way, Zoe?”

“It’s that parasite, isn’t it?” Dain’s voice was strangely devoid of emotion. “Rex. The dots around his neck, the blue eye... It all matches. You infected him.”

“Here, follow me,” Zoe panted, rushing ahead of them. “What in the hells was that?”

“What Dain said,” Elei pushed the words through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the craving, to ignore everything but getting Kalaes off the avenue. “It’s Rex. And it’s rising.”

***

“So Rex wants you to eat sugar?” Zoe led them through quiet streets while the fishy stench of the port grew stronger. “Why not have some, then?”

“You don’t want to see Rex at full strength,” Alendra said, shivering a little, and Elei forced his gaze ahead.

It would be okay. They’d organize the attack and they’d get more medicine.

Or they’d be dead, so who cared?

“They don’t know you’re infected, too, do they? The Gultur.” Zoe glanced at Kalaes over her shoulder, brows knitting. “They want Elei, you know.”

Elei missed a step, recovering before he dumped Kalaes and Alendra to the ground. “Our faces are plastered all over. Of course they want us.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She led them into an alley and then into another narrow street, Dain by her side. “Rumors say they want you to get the original strain of Rex, find a way to kill it. You should be careful.”

Careful. Elei snorted.

Then a whistle sounded, sending his heart thumping harder, but nobody appeared to intercept them and they hurried on. The sea had to be right around the corner, the air humid and seagulls squawking from their perches on rooftops and fences. Squat storehouses cut dark shapes against the overcast sky.

Zoe raised a hand and they slowed. A whistle sounded right behind them, and Kalaes tugged his arm free, whirling, drawing his gun from its back holster.

Elei’s pulse ricocheted inside his skull. Zoe was shouting. The way she was waving her hands probably meant they shouldn’t shoot anyone, so he laid a hand on Kalaes’ shoulder — and was promptly shoved so hard he lost his footing and fell on his back.

Dammit.

“Don’t shoot!” Zoe was yelling, and suddenly they were surrounded by armed kids and Elei found a machine gun muzzle in his face. Rex snarled inside his head, jerking his body, and his hand curled around the grip of his Rasmus.

“Elei, don’t!” Alendra shouted. He recognized her scent, her small hand on his shoulder shaking him. “Snap out of it. We’re safe, it’s okay.”

He drew a shaky breath, told Rex to piss off, and forced his fingers to unclench, releasing the gun. As the colors dimmed and the skin of things emerged once more, he found out things weren’t looking so good.

The gang had their guns pointed at them — Zoe who held her empty hands up, her mouth pinched, Dain with his hands at his sides, clenched into fists, Alendra and himself on the ground.

Pissing great.

But worst of all, Kalaes held his gun in both hands, sighting down the barrel at a young woman with spiky ginger hair and an eye-patch. She held a machine gun, and it was pointed at Kalaes — as were three more guns held by younger boys.

“Drop the gun,” the young woman said, “or I’ll shoot.”

But Kalaes made no move to comply. He drew a long breath and his finger pressed on the trigger.

Shit, no. Elei climbed to his feet and rushed to Kalaes’ side, making a grab for the gun — too late, too pissing late — while someone else shoved Kalaes aside and turned the gun muzzle away.

Dain.

“Give me that,” Dain said when Kalaes didn’t relinquish control, glaring at Dain as if he didn’t recognize him. Maybe he didn’t. “Kal?”

It gave Elei the window he needed to reach Kalaes and put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “It’s just Rex, Kal. Give Dain the gun.”

Kalaes blinked, a confused frown on his face that made Elei wonder just how hard Rex was hitting him. Kalaes looked at the gun Dain was trying to wrestle away from him and let go of it so suddenly Dain lurched back.

Dammit, Kalaes still seemed dazed.

“You threatened us,” the young woman accused, lifting a hand to adjust her eye-patch. Elei wondered what was hiding underneath — a missing eye or a parasite-infected one.

“A mistake.” Alendra stood in front of Kalaes. “We’re sorry.”

“We’ve been on the run and we’re somewhat trigger-happy, pooskers,” Zoe added with a shrug. “You surprised us, that’s all.”

“This is Seagull territory. You shouldn’t be surprised we patrol it,” the woman bit out.

“We were told we’d have safe crossing.”

“You will as long as you don’t pull guns on us.” The woman gave Kalaes who was breathing hard, hands fisted at his sides, a pointed glare.

“We’re looking for Top Gull. Need some hot stuff.”

The woman eyed Zoe suspiciously. “You know Top Gull?”

A younger girl elbowed her in the hip. “She’s the Queen of the Hounds.”

“I know who she is,” the woman scoffed. “Well, come on, then. Put the guns away and keep quiet.”

Zoe licked her lips and nodded. Dain stuffed his hands in his pockets, a dark scowl on his face, but he followed Zoe. Alendra grabbed Kalaes’ hand and pulled him along, while Elei fell in step behind them, sparing a wary glance at the street kids who brought up the rear, guns aimed right at him.

Pulse still hammering madly behind his eyes, adrenaline pumping, he did his best to stumble along and ignore the colors and the whispers swirling in his head.

Stuff it, Rex. No danger, okay?

After twists and turns, they were ushered into a building with broken windows and led down a narrow staircase. Rex was determined to drive Elei mad, humming and muttering in his mind, sending shivers down his spine and making his hands twitch. Trying to take over.

He clamped down on the thought and the fear it brought. Because it wasn’t just him, or Kalaes who depended on his relative sanity, but much more. The war, for instance, and the fate of the Seven Islands.

“Everything’s okay; everything’s fine.” He chanted the old mantra under his breath, getting odd looks from the kids and Dain, until he made it a silent thought, a looping prayer, blanking out the world.

They descended to a dank cellar with a long nepheline table. A young man sat at its head, a dark cap on his head, pulled low over his eyes. Alone. A king, of sorts. A king and a queen meeting in the stinking places under the earth, surrounded by grimy children with guns.

Elei snorted and barely caught himself before laughing out loud. Oh gods, now was not the time for a headlong plunge into madness. He clenched his hands, focusing on the bright flicker of pain as his nails bit into his palms, and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

He was vaguely aware of voices. They talked about guns and aircars, the discussion peppered with words he didn’t know and names of people he’d probably never meet. Zoe sounded self-assured. She was calling on a favor Top Gull owed her. It had to do with a certain unwritten gang law that couldn’t be ignored, and Top Gull reluctantly agreed that was so. He’d give them handguns and one small glidecraft, and that was all he could afford to spare. Take it or leave it.

Didn’t they have other contacts?

Of course they did, Zoe said, but he owed her a favor.

As the haggling began, Elei stepped back, where Dain and Kalaes stood arguing over something. He sank to the floor and leaned his pounding head on the wall.

“Seriously?” Dain was muttering. “You tell people he’s your brother?”

“Look, Dain, I understand why you’re angry.” Kalaes sounded tired. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Angry? I’m way past angry, dammit. That’s not your brother. How do I know? Your brother’s dead. I know you, your history, your dreams and nightmares. You sent me away, never came to visit, said you’d never take in any more strays. And yet you took him in.”

Elei blinked, saw the finger pointing in his direction. Thought about saying something but got a glimpse of Alendra shaking her head.

Right. He’d only make things worse.

“It’s complicated,” Kalaes said.

“Complicated? It’s simple to me. I thought we were brothers once, too.”

“Dammit, Dain.” Kalaes sighed and slid down the wall. “I said it’s complicated. I’m sorry, for all it’s worth.”

“And that makes it all right, I suppose.”

“Look. Maera met you. She told me you were okay. I thought it was true.”

“You’re lying. I told Maera about our problems and she swore she’d report to you.”

“She never did. Dain, listen, Maera...” Kalaes tugged on his spiky hair. “She wasn’t who she seemed and it all went to the hells.”

Dain frowned and leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, pale hair hanging in his face. “That’s convenient.”

“No, it’s...” Kalaes shook his head. “I said I’m sorry and I mean it. I should’ve checked on you myself. I was too much of a coward, so I sent Maera. I needed...” He drew a shaky breath. “Needed time, after all that happened, and I convinced myself you were better off without me.”

“Dammit, Kal,” Dain whispered. “You were my whole family. How could I be better off without you?”

Kalaes clenched his jaw and bowed his head. “I made a promise, the same one Elei did, back at Teos. I’ll make sure street children have a better life. Once this is over. I’m not running away again.”

Dain scowled at his boots, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll accept your apology. But only if you explain why you took this kid in and made him your brother. I mean, he even infected you with this parasite that makes you act crazy. Well, crazier.”

“I’m surprised you notice a difference,” Kalaes said drily.

“Not funny.” Dain glanced sideways at Elei, and his gaze was as warm as the frigid depths of the ocean. “And you haven’t answered.”

“I didn’t take Elei in,” Kalaes muttered. “He did. He reminded me that fearing for those you love is okay. Reminded me of who I used to be. As for the parasite...” He traced a finger over the white scars of palantin on his neck, shot Elei a quick look and his mouth curved in a crooked grin. “He infected me to save my life. And I’m grateful.”

***

Hera leaned her head against the aircar window, staring out at the fungi fields and hamlets. Sleep had been an elusive thing and her head felt heavy.

Sacmis was driving, her lean hands assured and confident on the levers of the control panel. They skirted the small town of Fyra with its blockades and strong police presence — it nestled on the heavenway to Dakru City, the only reason for the sudden vigilance.

The regime feared an attack on their capital.

If the distraction in Artemisia did not succeed... It did not bear thinking about. Mantis’ plan would fail and with it the hope everyone in the resistance had harbored for so long.

Death. Hera had never had the stomach for it. She’d dealt death without regrets when her friends were in danger, but a world where life had more value would be welcome.

“So what’s your plan?” Hera turned to Mantis who had the map spread on his knees and was frowning at it.

“We could try the Kissian Road, bypassing Thassia and Lyssos.”

“And get caught, sacrificing everyone, or detour into the mountains and thereby sacrifice those in Artemisia working to give us a chance to succeed. Are you out of your damn mind?” Red misted Hera’s eyes. Stupid mortal, jeopardizing everyone’s lives. How had she ever thought he could pull this off?

“Hera.” Sacmis was giving her a narrow-eyed look. “Breathe.”

Hera blinked and drew a long breath. Looked like the drugs were leaving her system. “Shit.”

“Why should it take so long?” Mantis straightened the map as if he had not noticed anything, a pretense for which Hera was grateful.

“There’s no direct road from Lyssos,” Hera muttered, her hands clenching in her lap. Relax. “A vein of surin was discovered there a year ago, and the area was declared red zone. The mine is well protected and the road closed.”

“It’s not on the map.”

“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?”

Yeah, as a matter of fact.

Elei elbowed the man in the chest, the impact rattling his bones, and the hold on him relaxed. Twisting, he dropped into a crouch as a fist swung over his head.

A whoosh; a ripple of calm.

The next moment he was up and running again, his breath coming in painful gasps. He streaked down an unknown avenue of throbbing colors and shifting shadows. The sounds were sucked into an eddy, his pulse ticking time, howling in his ears.

Rex kept flashing targets at him — anyone crossing his path, anyone who seemed armed — and he fisted his hands not to pull his gun. They swung at his sides as he sprinted down the avenue and turned into the quiet of a narrow street, the stitch in his side moving up, reaching for his heart.

Have to stop. Have to breathe. He stumbled and slowed, struggling to draw air. Where were Kalaes and Alendra? In his mad stampede he’d lost sight of them. He straightened, wiped sweat off his face. By retracing his steps, he’d get back to the street where he’d lost them.

Shouldn’t be too hard.

The wind whistled as he turned around and headed back, checking that the avenue was clear and no patrol was about.

There. The street he’d emerged from. He was pretty sure, and he took a bracing breath before stepping onto the avenue, pulling his hood up.

Shouts and laughter erupted from a diner, or maybe a bar. Kalaes had said the regime had closed all bars down. Was it a sign of the new order that they had reopened? Less control, more freedom.

Aircars drove by and he perched on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for them to pass, hoping Kalaes and Ale had noticed his absence and hadn’t gone too far. The world still pulsed with colors, and his heart still pounded.

Pedestrians weaved between the vehicles. Seeing a lull in the traffic, he stepped down and hurried across, trying his best not to run, not to shove others aside.

He’d find them. He hadn’t run far, it would be okay. Hear that, Rex? Everything’s okay.

Rex responded by upping the tension and brightening the pulsing colors; laughing at him.

Son of a bitch.

Sidestepping a passerby whose head was bent against the wind, Elei jogged between aircars and hopped onto the opposite sidewalk.

Someone was waving at him from a street corner, a smaller form by his side. Kalaes.

A smile tugged at Elei’s mouth, and the colors of the world finally paled as he started toward his friends, the wind blowing his hood off. He reached up to pull it back.

Alendra set off toward Elei but Kalaes grabbed her arm, jerking her back.

What the...? Elei narrowed his eyes and started to turn around, realization dawning too damn late.

He didn’t have time to draw his gun; Gultur poured from the unmarked aircar and swarmed around him.

But they wouldn’t get Kalaes or Ale. He wouldn’t let them.

The thought filled his mind from end to end, and he kicked and twisted and landed punches. Orange and gold pulsed around him, and Rex gave him targets to attack. Keep them busy, let them not look around. Hands fell on him and he punched a forearm, hearing the bone crack, then bent and jabbed his extended fingers into a stomach.

Let the others escape and set the plan in motion.

Hands grabbed him again and he wondered why he hadn’t been shot yet, when his hood was yanked all the way off.

“It’s him,” a woman’s voice said, “bring him.”

The hells they want? was his last thought before pain exploded in his jaw and crashed in the side of his head. The world sparkled black and then shattered, falling away to nothing.

***

‘Bumpy ride’ was a huge understatement, Hera thought as she fought to stay standing inside the aircar, to finish taping every crack in the windows and door. She hoped the control panel was airtight, but why should it be? The aircar Mantis had provided, surely stolen, was an old model, for private use, small and rusty in places. Not an air-and-water car, like those Silver Bullet models had to be.

“Anyone in pursuit?” Sacmis called as they rocked their way over the sodden, uneven ground. “The reflections on the water are blinding me.”

Not only you, Hera wanted to say, shading her eyes, tape roll still in hand, and squinted through the back window. “It seems not.”

“They think we’ll die here anyway,” Mantis said, his cheekbones flushed. “If we make it across, we won’t have them breathing down our necks.”

Hera said nothing. What was there to say? If and if.

“We may yet make it.” Sacmis smirked. “We never gave up before, so why start now?”

The aircar dipped and shook. “Here, let me drive,” Hera snapped. “All the brilliant ideas and courageous words will be for nothing if we drown in the swamp.”

Sacmis nodded, sheepish, and relinquished the driver’s seat to Hera who slid into it and grabbed the controls, fighting with the equalizers.

At least by doing something useful she’d feel more in control, more at ease. Because this plan may have been suicidal, but it might have worked if they’d gone with Mantis’ idea of the tried path across the swamps.

Instead, they fled through uncharted territory, more likely to die than ever — and that was not what bothered Hera. It was the fact she was failing everyone.

Mantis had not been mindlessly reckless; he’d been carefully reckless, having studied the map and found a way to make it to the machine on time and without pursuit. So what had her caution contributed?

And how will obsessing over this help? Hera snarled at herself, righting the aircar when it dipped into a hollow and then splashed into a pond of stagnant water, startling clouds of mosquitoes. Neither of you had the perfect solution. There was no perfect solution — to anything.

Depression clung to her like a film of oil. Somewhere deep down she knew it also had to do with Regina’s reawakening as the drugs left her system, the horrible mood swings she knew so well. But knowing did not alleviate the weight on her shoulders.

“I’m glad we left the kids behind,” Sacmis murmured, taking up the co-driver’s seat.

Hera nodded, her jaw clamped too tightly to speak. The swamps stretched in every direction now, white mist curling over them like ghostly fingers. The ground evened out, shimmering water spreading below.

It was beautiful. And treacherous, as beauty often was. Like the symmetry Regina wrought, the deadly perfection of the Gultur.

“Lighten up,” Sacmis said, her gray eyes glinting. “We’re not dead yet.”

“Yet,” Hera repeated, shaking her head. “The tape sealing the aircar will not hold forever. It’s a long drive across the swamps.”

“I know.” Sacmis glanced over her shoulder at Mantis who sat in one of the back seats, his gun in his lap. A transparent mask covered his nose and mouth. Hera noted he looked pale.

“Is it the gas?” Hera sniffed. “I assume it’s odorless.”

“Maybe. Here’s your mask.”

Hera put it on. “Do you think it will do any good?”

Sacmis pulled hers on and adjusted the straps. “They’re cheap masks he probably grabbed from the hospital as we ran. They filter the air but I do not know if they can keep the gas out.” Her voice came muffled. “Nothing to do but try.”

“You seem to know more about these swamps than the rest of us.” The light reflected on the mask and teased Hera’s vision. It was damn uncomfortable. “And you look very relaxed for someone going to her death. What else do you know?”

Sacmis shrugged. “It’s all rumors. I do not know what’s true and what’s fantasy.”

“Sacmis...” Hera swallowed an exasperated sigh. “You promised not to keep things from me.”

“And you promised to trust me.” Sacmis scowled, which looked odd with the mask distorting her features.

“I do trust you. But I want to hear your thoughts.”

Sacmis stilled, then moved to check the thrusters, the fuel indicator. Stalling. Hera waited. Not much else she could do except grab Sacmis by the throat and demand the information, but of course she could not do that, no matter how loudly Regina groused inside her about unknown factors and distrust.

She trusted Sacmis. With all her heart.

“There has been no official investigation on the gas,” Sacmis said, her voice low. “The only information we have comes from tales told by mortals in the area.”

Hera nodded, wondering why Sacmis was practically whispering. “And?”

“And as Mantis said, the noxious gases seem to knock people and animals out, so they drown in the shallow water.”

Hera glanced at the water surrounding them, imagining corpses below the shiny surface. Beautiful and treacherous indeed. She shivered. “But there’s something on your mind, right? I know that smug smile.”

Sacmis pitched her voice even lower, so Hera barely heard her. “There’s no account of a Gultur succumbing to the gas. It might be that you and I at least can make it through.”

Ice gripped Hera’s spine and she glanced back at Mantis who seemed to be dozing, his blond head propped back against the seat. Dozing or passed out?

Oh gods. A sting in her eyes, in her heart, like a thorn. She could not get the image of him as the young boy out of her mind — as she’d met him years back in Artemisia, fearless and yet courteous, determined and proud.

“Hera?” Sacmis laid a hand on her leg. “I know it is not good news, but...”

“The important thing is to remove the machine and march on Dakru City,” Hera heard herself say, even though her ears rang and drawing breath was near impossible. “That’s what we came for.”

Even though the thought of losing Mantis was like a blade in her chest. This was not about her, or Sacmis. Not about her feelings or weaknesses.

This was about the world, and she’d already accepted she might have to give her life for it, as had they all.

We are Dakru’s last frigging hope.

***

It was cold. The trashlands of Ost stretched far. The tall buildings of Sestos, the capital, rose high, grazing the sky and lining the horizon. Clouds floated overhead. The air was crisp and clean, smelling of burnt sugar, not the sourness of rotting garbage.

Odd, that.

Elei was walking among the mounts of trash, hands in his pockets, stuck there. He couldn’t take them out, and he felt a little trapped, but not enough to care. He knew this place. It was home.

Albi walked by his side, white hair hanging lank in her eyes, her mouth drawn in a tight line. That worried him, but she walked with a purpose and he could only follow, as always. She was his mother. She knew everything there was to know in the world, and would keep him safe.

Dogs barked in the distance, the sound jolting him. He missed a step but recovered. They were distant. No danger. No need to keep them away from the body.

He frowned. What body?

The air swirled, darkness battering him like a gale, and he was kneeling on a sea cliff, a rusty knife in his hand, the dogs snapping at him, bloody froth dripping from their jowls, and he jerked, his heart banging.

“It’s Poena,” Albi’s voice said in his ear, and when he turned she saw her face was a grinning skull. “She’s dead.”

His chest ached and he bowed his head, finally seeing the body of the girl laid out before him, covered in a blanket. The wind tugged at the cloth, revealing her face. Ash-blond hair framed the fine features instead of dark, and when her eyes flew open, they were golden and cat-like.

Alendra. She was dead.

With a gasp, he jerked awake, Rex hammering inside his head. Sweet scent told him Gultur were close by. He lay panting, blinking through blurry eyes at the dim interior of what had to be an aircar. A jolt confirmed it. They were moving. Because...

Because what? He remembered meeting the gang leaders, Iliathan studying his screen, Alendra running in the streets, Kalaes waving... And then?

What in the hells had happened?

He lay on his side, face mashed into the hard floor, and he couldn’t feel his limbs. He tried to move them but restraints bit into his wrists and ankles.

Tied. This was bad. There had been a fight, he recalled, and his jaw throbbed as if triggered by the memory. He’d been hit on the head.

Taken by the Gultur.

Rex rose with a vengeance inside him, making everything pulse and glimmer. Dammit, not now. He blinked and blinked, struggling to control his breathing. At this rate he’d hyperventilate and pass out before he did anything. And wouldn’t that be just pissing great.

“He’s awake,” a woman’s voice said from behind him and he tried to roll over. Found he couldn’t.

Shit.

“We have the blood sample, senet,” another female voice said. “I do not think we need him any longer. Should we terminate him?”

Rex screeched in Elei’s head and sweat ran down his face, scalding hot. Zoe’s voice from a memory said, ‘They want Elei.’

They want Rex.

But they hadn’t mentioned Kalaes or Alendra. Chances were, his friends hadn’t been caught. The plan would be set in motion. And they wouldn’t be able to figure Rex out in one night, and by tomorrow everything might change.

He only needed to escape.

Piece of cake. He almost laughed.

The Gultur scent wound around his senses, cloying sweet, Regina’s smell, and Rex jolted him, sending pain down his spine to get him to move.

He ground his teeth, fighting it. Blood flowed faster in his veins with every bruising beat of his heart, and the numbness receded, leaving in its wake blinding pain.

Move, Rex screamed inside his skull, using his voice, kill them all.

Not yet. He was bound, dammit. Could he break those bonds? A metallic jingle when he moved his hands told him these were steel manacles. The Gultur weren’t taking any chances.

Kill them. Rex sent another jolt through his heart, raising his pulse until it rang in his ears. Kill them now and flee.

How? Tied up, no weapons, no cats to provide distraction, no friends. Alone. And oh shit, fear was all Rex needed to kick it up a notch, howling in his head, making his body shake.

“Is he having a seizure?” the cool, disdainful female voice said, closer than before, barely audible through the gale in his ears.

“It might save us the trouble of terminating him.”

“Gwen Kheret wants him alive. She says we drive past headquarters and pick her up, she wants to meet him.”

“We should kill him now.”

“Are you afraid?” The woman’s voice turned soft and mocking. “Because he’s Rex? Look at him. Just a kheret, a puny child.”

“Tell that to all those he’s killed,” the other said and she had a point.

Never been a child. Too late for that.

Elei focused on their voices, trying to breathe through his mouth, not to smell them. Be afraid of me. I’ve killed many of your kind, and Rex even more, so you’d be stupid to let your guard down. One mistake and I’ll take you out and be gone.

He pressed his cheek to the floor, bit his lip. Wasn’t sure if those were his thoughts or Rex’s, wasn’t sure what he felt — terror, panic, anger, glee. The clashing emotions tore him up, hurled him into the storm and he didn’t know what he thought, what he felt, who he was.

He was Rex, they’d said so. Alendra would never forgive him if he died now, and Kalaes would feel guilty. He wasn’t sure that made any sense, but who cared? Better alive than sane. Or something like that.

They’d make a mistake. Stopping to pick this Gwen Kheret up could be his chance. He’d be ready.

***

Elei’s muscles tensed as the aircar halted for the third time, but it was yet another blockade or ceremony. He was getting lightheaded. His heart wouldn’t slow, his breathing wouldn’t settle and deepen.

Pissing hells. He only hoped Rex wouldn’t kill him before he had a chance to break free.

The aircar set off again, the movement jostling him, sending fire down his back. Spikes drove into the muscles in his arms and legs even as the thrum of Rex rolled in his body.

Images from his dream danced before his eyes — Albi, Poena, Alendra — and he shook his head to dislodge them. Alendra wasn’t Poena, she’d never been on Ost, and the last he knew she was still alive.

Damn his mind for playing such tricks.

The aircar slowed, engines whirring, and ground to a halt. The door hissed open and he tensed. Voices sounded outside and the vehicle rocked as someone came up the ladder.

“Welcome aboard,” the Gultur behind him said and hands grabbed him, lifting him and slamming him against the metal wall.

A gasp tore from his throat. His back screamed in pain and his head swam as he slid down, his bound hands pressed into the wall. Darkness teased the edges of his vision and he blinked furiously to clear it. His hair fell in his eyes and he wished he could push it back.

Then someone came to stand before him — slim legs encased in a gray Gultur uniform, a narrow waist. The woman lowered herself on her haunches and peered at him with large, dark eyes. Soft curls framed her pretty face and a tattoo of two black dots marked her chin.

Okay, they must’ve hit his head harder than he’d thought. He couldn’t be seeing... “M... Maera?”

“Hi, Elei.” She smiled and her smell confused him — a whiff of moist earth, the scent he remembered, but also sugary sweetness.

Hadn’t he killed her? He shook his head, and that was a bad idea because nausea roiled in his stomach and threatened to send his breakfast — or dinner? — back up.

No, she wasn’t dead. His mind was fuzzy, but he remembered seeing her on Mantis’ datarod back in Calydon. She was a member of the corrupt council of the resistance.

Shit. And here he’d been thinking this day couldn’t get any worse.

“I was sure you’d be dead by now,” Maera said, her voice conversational and pleasant. “But you always surprise me, don’t you?

He eyed her, in too much shock to speak. He took her by surprise? Was she kidding him? Even Rex was so stunned the pulsing colors had faded, allowing him to see her in every pissing detail.

Like the small, jewel-like scales glinting on her cheeks.

Hells. “You... How did...?” He couldn’t decide what he wanted to say or ask, finally settling for, “Are you mad?”

Because it would explain a couple of things.

She lifted her fingers to her cheek. “This? They converted me. I’m a Gultur now.”

Not an answer to his question, although maybe it was, and it accounted for her mixed scent. Mortals didn’t survive Regina. Hera had said it, so how in the hells did this happen?

Maybe he’d made a questioning sound, because Maera cocked her head to the side, regarding him.

“Regina in its pure form can kill us, but this is a weaker manifestation.” She winked. “And it likes women.”

Sweat stung Elei’s eyes. He wanted to wipe it, wanted to get out of there, wanted to shut her up. His hands jerked in the shackles and his breath hissed out.

“If you’re alive, I’m guessing Kalaes is alive, too?” she asked and he should have seen it coming.

“Is this why you wanted to see me?”

She looked away, cheeks reddening.

Pissing gods, did she want him to believe she still cared for Kalaes? “You almost killed him.”

“Almost. But I didn’t.” She swallowed. “Just tell me where he is. I need to speak to him. I need to explain.”

He laughed, and his ribs hurt. Gods, she was so convincing. A great act. If he hadn’t been there when she’d pressed the metal into Kalaes’ throat...  “I thought I was crazy, but you beat me hands down.”

The two Gultur flanking him took a step closer, longguns pointing at him.

“You don’t believe me.” Again the soft, hurt tone. “We have all the information we need, and we have you. I just want to talk to him.”

And it didn’t matter if he did or didn’t. “I don’t know where Kalaes is.” It was the damn truth. He had to be somewhere on the way to the meeting point and Elei would be damned before he’d say anything else. Curiosity nagged at him, though. “The information. You got it from Iliathan and Mitt?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Who’s Iliathan?”

Confusing. But she hadn’t denied knowing Mitt.

“Kalaes cares for me,” she said. “I know he still does.”

And that brought the fury back, because she’d been that close to severing Kalaes’ jugular right outside Bone Tower, so close to killing him, and why was he talking to her anyway? “Damn you.”

“You think I’m afraid of you?” She chuckled. “If you move, they’ll shoot you like a dog, and there are many more outside. You got caught, Elei.”

The colors were blinding, her chest a darker orange, the sweetness of her scent subtle but still enough to drive Rex into a frenzy. Did she think he cared if they shot him? He only wanted to get her out of his face.

Ready for me?

He uncoiled like a spring, bound feet kicking up, catching her in the side, sending her sprawling. A shot rang, deafening, leaving his ears ringing, and he threw himself in the other direction, knocking into one of the Gultur. A bullet zinged past his ear, ricocheting off the wall.

His heart pounded fit to burst through his chest. He gritted his teeth and drew his hands apart, muscles burning in his neck and back, pain flaring along his shoulder blades, harder and harder, until the chain binding the manacles snapped and he slammed into the floor.

The breath went out of him.

A snick sounded — a bullet entering a chamber — and he rolled, as round after round hit the floor and walls. A jerk of his legs and the chain of his ankle shackles broke.

How in the hells had he done that?

Oh right. Rex.

Surging to his feet, he bowled over the Gultur who was coming through the door, throwing her off the aircar. He slid over the deck, glimpsing a mass of Gultur down in the street, gathered around the one who’d fallen.

He jumped.

Crappy idea, he thought as he dropped, but climbing wasn’t an option. He fell on a Gultur, sent her crashing into another, and rolled, hitting the asphalt hard with his shoulder.

Stars danced around his head. Pretty. Feeling returned, and his shoulder and arm hurt like blazes.

Up. Get up.

It took two tries to get his legs under him, and then he reeled like a drunk, catching a glimpse of guns lifting toward him, cool blue of metal held in hands of sparkling gold.

Too close to go off the radar, to mimic their smell or lose his heat signature. Did Rex have anything up its sleeve or should he run and be shot in the back? Telmion had stopped one bullet — could it stop a hundred?

No time to think. He dropped as the first shot rang out, rolled and grabbed a Gultur’s legs, bringing her down. Her gun went off, a bullet grazing his shoulder, a glittering line of pain. He snatched the longgun out of her hand, hit her on the head, and opened fire.

They fired back. Deep inside he knew he was done for, but he let the gun drop and twisted sideways, covering his head.

That’s it then.

A bullet hit the snakeskin on his upper arm, another left a stinging line on his side, and then...

Nothing. No more bullets.

He lowered his arms. He was kneeling on the street, three Gultur bodies strewn around him, and everyone’s attention had turned the other way.

Another vehicle had stopped in front of the dark building that had to be a police headquarters, and more Gultur spilled out, machine guns in their hands. Tall and graceful, dressed in the same gray uniforms, visors in place. Another patrol?

Then the bullets started flying again and he dived under the hovering aircar. He laid his throbbing head on his arms, crouched as small as possible. Gultur against Gultur?
The hells?

He had to admit, though, it was nice not to be the one shot at, for a change.

Chapter Nine

The gunshots had stopped. Elei knew because he could hear the sound of his thudding heart and Rex screeching inside his head. He never thought he’d be glad of it.

In the quiet, he was all too aware of the huge vehicle hovering just an inch over his head. If someone set it down, it’d crush him like a bug.

Rex screeched harder, like nails dragging inside his skull, and Elei clapped his hands over his ears as if that could blot it out.

Now was a good time to make his escape. He peered from under the aircar just as two hands reached in and dragged him out into the open.

Gultur, he thought, jaw clenched tight not to make a sound because, dammit, his whole body ached.

Caught again, and this time he wasn’t sure he could run; his knees were like rubber. He hung in the Gultur’s arms and waited to be shot, or at best punched into oblivion. Hells, at least it would stop the pain.

“Are you all right?” one of them said, her voice muffled behind the visor.

A dream? Had to be.

“He’s hurt,” she said, and Elei’s eyes stung because he was. He was hurt and he’d failed to escape. Failed Kalaes, failed Alendra.

What a pissing disaster.

“Let’s get him off the street. You two, get rid of the bodies. We take both aircars.”

“Maera?” he whispered.

“Gwen Kheret has fled.” The Gultur pulled Elei’s arm over her shoulders, supporting him, and he wondered why, wondered how his leg held, then found another Gultur on his other side, steadying him.

“Rex,” she whispered, low and respectful, and guided him to the parked aircar.

Elei decided he had to be dreaming for sure, but with both arms slung over the Gulturs’ shoulders he couldn’t pinch himself. Which was annoying, since this was his dream, after all, but what in the hells. Might as well go along.

As long as he didn’t dream of the dead again. Surely he could manage that, at least.

He was hauled onto a small aircar with a ramp instead of a ladder, for which he was grateful, and then lowered to a nepheline seat. This assured him it was a dream, since he’d expected to be dumped on the floor and kicked to the hells.

The aircar revved up, rising off the ground, and lurched forward.

A hand on his chest kept him from falling over. Yeah, nice dream, though all the bruises and wounds flared with bright fire. Next he’d have to work on not feeling pain. Maybe there was an on/off switch somewhere.

He barely stifled his chuckle. Hoped he didn’t look completely mad. Then decided it didn’t matter. His dream, and all...

He could test this, nudge the dream in the right direction. “Do you have any water?”

When a glass was brought to him, he nodded. Yeah. Maybe he’d wake up in Artemisia, planning the attack, or even better, in Teos, or... Or on Ost, with Pelia. Maybe she’d never died.

He clutched the glass and sipped the water. When pills were pressed into his hands, he took them. Look at that, he’d even dreamed up painkillers.

Okay, final test. “Kalaes and Alendra?”

“Let me have a look at your arm,” the Gultur said. “You’re bleeding.”

He snorted. If he couldn’t conjure Kalaes and Ale, then what good was it? He swallowed the rest of his water and gave back the glass, his arm protesting every movement. Dammit, still no on/off switch.

The Gultur sat by his side, her scent sweet but with an undercurrent he couldn’t place. He expected Rex to flip out, start screaming for him to kill her, pour adrenaline into his body.

Nothing happened. This couldn’t be real. Therefore, a dream. “Kalaes,” he said again, “Alendra,” and suddenly he needed to see them. This dream was creeping him out; had he ever met his friends or had he made them up?

Oh gods, he hoped they were real.

“They’re in another aircar,” the Gultur said, and Elei was so relieved he let her open his jacket and prod his side.

He winced when she peeled off his shirt. She made a disapproving sound at what had to be a bullet furrow, but he felt strangely numb. Kalaes and Alendra were in another aircar? What did that mean?

The world spun and he leaned back, staring at the white ceiling. “Dizzy,” he murmured.

“Rex,” the Gultur said, then grabbed his arms and shook him. “Stay awake.”

“How...?” His brain felt a size too big. “I’m dreaming.”

“You’re certainly not dreaming.” The Gultur lifted her visor, revealing blue eyes set in a pretty face, and gestured. Another Gultur approached them, removing her visor, too. “Strip the shirt, I’ll bring the medic-kit.”

With their help, he shrugged off the jacket and the shirt, gritting his teeth against new waves of pain. This dream sucked. The antiseptic stung like fire, and then the Gultur threaded a curved needle and set to stitching the wounds, which brought the dream closer to a nightmare.

Damn.

“You barely made it out alive.” Her dark head was bowed as she sewed his side. “We almost lost you.”

“I don’t know you,” he felt obliged to point out, “and you’re a Gultur, so why...?” Damn, he really wanted the dream, the pain, the confusion to end.

“I’m Iset,” she said. “The painkillers will kick in soon.”

“Good,” he said, his voice slurring. Right. Maybe there was a sound quality button somewhere, too. He’d get to it after he found the pain switch.

That made him want to laugh again. Gods, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough,” he whispered.

“Listen to me,” the Gultur said, cutting the thread, winding gauze around his torso and securing it with adhesive tape. “You’re our brother, our king.” She looked up, her blue eyes bright. “We want peace. We’ll fight on your side.”

Shit, he was going mad. Batshit. And he couldn’t wake up. He clutched her arm. “You’re Gultur. What are you talking about?”

“We’re all human,” she said and pulled down her neckline. Around her slender throat was a line of black dots, and his hand went automatically to his own throat to touch the mark of Rex.

That was the scent — pepper spice, Rex’s smell, mixed with Regina’s sugar. This Gultur had been infected with Rex.

“I did this,” he said, his throat painfully tight.

She bowed her head and smiled. “Yes, you did.”

The new type of Gultur. He sat up carefully, bright pain flaring in the deep bruising in his back and arm. “And Kalaes—”

“We were following the patrol, saw when they took you. Saw you wave at someone so we decided to talk to them. We split up to find you. We contacted them and they’re on their way here.” She smiled at him. “We were looking for you, because we heard of your plan to attack tonight. We have vehicles and weapons at your disposal.”

He stared at his hand on her sleeve, letting this all sink in. He wasn’t dreaming? “How did you know?” he whispered. “How did you hear?”

“That,” the Gultur said, pretty caramel eyes flicking in the direction of the other Gultur who was talking to the driver through a window, “is Bestret. She’s Iliathan’s lover.”

***

He wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t a dream. Elei kept repeating the new mantra as they sped through the western suburbs, his hand pressed against the cold window. The painkillers had kicked in, and he’d eaten a nutrition bar stuffed with sweet bush berries. Rex was happy — with the food, and with the two Gultur sitting by his side, checking their guns and talking in low voices about the best place to stop.

Sisters. Elei scowled. Yeah Rex, you can stop laughing now. Bastard.

“How many of you are there?” He was pretty sure he’d seen four or five come out of the vehicle when they’d arrived, but he’d been shot at and his head knocked about a lot. Maybe he’d been seeing double.

“We do not have the exact numbers,” Blue-eyes by the name of Iset said. “Here in Artemisia we are a force of thirty but more join us every day.”

That hadn’t been his question, but he nodded, glancing around the aircar. The compartment contained one row of seats, so he guessed that the partition behind them hid more.

“And you’ll help us tonight?” he asked. “With the attack?”

Iset rummaged through a box and pulled out a bottle of water. “We did not have much time to converse with your friends. We had not been planning an attack of any kind tonight, but it appears a battle is starting and our help could be instrumental.”

No arguing with that. “And you said Iliathan...” He glanced at the other Gultur, Bestret, who was busy cleaning her gun. “He didn’t betray us?”

“He said he was going to tell you about us but did not have the time,” Bestret said, not looking up from her task.

Elei frowned. They’d had to leave him in a hurry, hadn’t they? His memories of those moments were a bit jumbled. He stared at Bestret and felt as if he was a thousand miles away. Maybe it was the painkillers. Without the pain, his body felt light, his head floating over it like a balloon, barely attached to him at all.

“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me.”

Iset smiled. “We’re only sorry we did not find you earlier, King.”

King. Elei shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Accept Rex, Hera had said. Well, screw her words of wisdom.

“I’m not your King,” he said. “You don’t need a King.”

What are you then? What are you really?

“What we need and what you are, these are different things,” Iset said.

Ah right. Probably some deep philosophical shit or other. The aircar lurched to a stop before Elei had figured it out and he turned to look out of the window. A dark structure rose at the end of the street. “Where are we?”

“It’s an abandoned Regina temple on the road to Aerica.” Iset rose to open the aircar door.

Aerica. Elei gave himself a tiny shake and got up, satisfied when his legs held.

The next moment he was thrown back down, his arms full of slender limbs, a scent of sea breeze enveloping him.

“Oh gods, I thought you were gone for good,” Alendra whispered, burying her face in his neck and holding on as if her life depended on it. Pain flickered up his side despite the pills, but he gathered her close, resting his cheek on her soft hair.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I don’t care if it’s only for today,” she whispered against his neck, making him shiver. “I don’t give a damn if this is all the time we have. I’m not wasting any more of it.”

He didn’t know what to say or think, so he breathed in her scent and waited for the burning of tears behind his brow to fade.

Then Kalaes stepped in, hair wild and eyes red-rimmed. He stood still for a long moment, mouth pressed shut.

Elei nudged Alendra off. “Kal?”

“You.” Kalaes jabbed a finger at him, jaw tight. “My hair’s turning gray. Soon I’ll look like I’m a hundred years old. See the wrinkles?”

Elei blinked. Kalaes was pissed, he could see that much. He looked ready to start punching people.

And Elei had seen that look before, knew what it meant. Wincing, he got to his feet. “Kal, this isn’t your fault.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, so stop beating yourself over the head for it. I got distracted and lost you. I’m not a kid.”

Kalaes swallowed. “So you always say.”

“I’m indestructible. You said so.”

“I’ve been known to make the occasional mistake. You don’t need to pissing test it.” Kalaes’ hands clenched and unclenched. “You’re okay, then? They said you were, but I couldn’t... Dammit, kid, why do you keep trying to get yourself killed?” He slung an arm over Elei’s shoulders and pulled him close, in a half-hug. “Do I have to put a leash on you?”

The hug was doing bad things to Elei’s bruised back and wounded side, but Elei didn’t care. “I don’t know. Collars chafe,” he muttered and that earned him a light cuff on the head. He grinned as he pulled back.

“So these chicks got to you in time?” Kalaes’s dark brows drew together. “You actually didn’t get shot at, for a change?”

Elei shook his head. Hey, he was okay, all stitched up and bandaged with the super painkillers numbing all aches. Why worry Kalaes for no reason? He was fine, he was alive and on his own two feet.

He hoped Iset and Bestret, who were watching them with mildly amused expressions on their pretty faces, wouldn’t tell on him.

“Time to get going,” Elei said. What time was it anyway? It felt like years since they’d said goodbye to Zoe. “The world won’t save itself, you know.”

The aircar set off again, and he staggered.

Kalaes caught his arm, steadying him. “We’ll get there on time, fe. I told Zoe to wait for us before doing anything, so get some rest.” He tsked. “And stop stealing my lines.”

***

“They’re gone? Zoe and Dain are gone? What do you mean?” Kalaes tugged on his spiky hair and glanced at Elei, giving him a “what the hells” look. “Where?”

A group of ten New Gultur watched them impassively, eyes glinting in the flickering light of a lamp post. Around them were old buildings, their windows dark, and the western water tower soared over them like a sentinel.

“They went ahead to prepare the attack,” the kid, Ifran, explained, hands twisting in the folds of his sweater. He worried his lower lip with his teeth. “You’re two hours late.”

Frigid hells. Two hours? Elei pushed off the aircar where he’d been leaning. He’d delayed them and thrown the whole operation out of whack. “I thought she’d wait for us.”

The boy shrugged, shot the Gultur lounging around the aircar a nervous look. “Zoe put out a roach, asking all street kids if they’d seen you. But it was time to go.”

Kalaes slammed his fist into the side of the vehicle. “Hells. When did they leave?”

“About an hour ago.”

“We need to contact them.”

“Can’t. There’s no network between here and the outskirts of Dakru City. Not since Rex spread and the first infighting began. The wave tower is gone.”

“Gods’ hells and Nereus’ hairy balls, can anything go right today?” Kalaes ranted.

“What’s the matter?” one of the Gultur, Bestret, asked. “We shall simply follow them, we are not far behind. Stick with the plan.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Alendra said quietly. “The real plan was to stay here in Artemisia.”

Bestret frowned. “I do not understand.”

“What are you saying?” Irfan paled. “You told us to go to this plant—”

“I know,” Kalaes said. “I know, all right? It was to throw off anyone listening in. Dammit.”

“You were going to organize a distraction right here instead,” Bestret said. “With all the street kids. Makes sense. Maybe we can still do that.”

“No,” Kalaes said. “Nothing for it now. We have to go after them. Zoe’s counting on us. We can’t let them die.”

“It’s for a greater cause,” Iset said.

“No,” Kalaes said again, shook his head. “No way.”

Zoe and Dain. Of course Kalaes would go after them, even if they’d been the only ones at stake. Besides... maybe this wasn’t such a bad turn of events. Taking over the plant would be a major distraction — and would mean the street kids of Artemisia wouldn’t be involved, and Elei had promised to protect them.

“We’re going after them,” he said, a hand on the grip of his Rasmus, grateful to have it back. Its familiar weight was comforting.

“But that was not your plan,” Iset said.

“Plans change.”

“Are you with us?” Alendra regarded the gathered Gultur, fists on hips. She looked funny like that, blond hair a tangled mess around the small oval of her face, her grin dangerous. But above all she looked beautiful, and he had to tear his gaze away, because the Gultur still hadn’t answered, and Rex or not, they might not agree.

“Taking the water plant will be a small distraction,” Iset said. “But it might prove a better idea than staying here. We are with you, and with the King.”

“Oh that’s great, then.” Kalaes waved his hand at Elei. “Shall we, then, Your Majesty?”

Elei shoved Kalaes in the chest, his lips twitching. “Shut up.”

“I hear and obey,” Kalaes said, the smug bastard, and was still grinning as he boarded the aircar.

***

“Does this damn vehicle not have a compass?” Sacmis flicked random switches, sending lights flickering on the sides of the aircar and thrusting the engine into overdrive.

Hera caught her hand. “Enough. We’re going in the right direction.”

The sun had hidden behind a veil of gray clouds, but according to her last calculations, they were still heading west.

Sacmis stilled, breathing hard, her exhalations fogging up her mask. “I feel tired,” she whispered.

Dammit. “Stay awake, Sacmis.” Hera glanced back. Mantis sprawled on the chair bonelessly, his mouth slack, his pale hair spilling around his head. Nunet’s tits. “Take our speed and the time. Calculate how much distance we have covered and how much is left.”

Her sharp commands jerked Sacmis into action. She fumbled with the map, spreading it on the panel and measuring. She frowned, glancing at the clock on the panel and their speed. “We’ve crossed more than half the distance,” she said, her voice rasping through the mask. “Another couple hours.”

“Fuel tank,” Hera barked.

“It might be enough,” Sacmis whispered, but did not sound convinced.

Damn.

“Go to the back, there’s water and ration bars. Eat, drink, and try to wake Mantis.” She caught Sacmis’ shadowed eyes on her and scowled. “You said it, the tales say the gas causes drowsiness, not death. See if you can rouse him enough to drink and eat something.”

Sacmis got up without a word and made her way to the back, between the seats, listing as the aircar rocked from side to side. Hera heard the clatter as Sacmis opened the box and lifted out the water bottle and ration bars, then went to shake Mantis.

Hera snapped her eyes back to the controls as the vehicle rocked violently. Damn swamps and their uneven, unsteady earth. Mantis had been right, though. The aircar was light enough to navigate the tricky ground. Aircars were made for difficult terrain such as this, but the larger models were created for roads and rocky paths rather than sucking mud and water.

The sound of Mantis’ voice caught her attention and she glanced at the rear-view mirror. Sacmis held his shoulder and pressed the water bottle to his mouth.

Not dead. A weight lifted off Hera’s chest. They were closing on their target and the gas was not lethal.

At least, not yet.

She frowned at the downward spiral of her thoughts, when Sacmis spoke directly behind her, startling her.

“He’s asking for you.”

Her heart plummeting to her stomach, Hera left the driver’s seat to Sacmis and sidled back to where Mantis lay on the seat, his breathing shallow.

“Hey,” she said, her throat closing, the words fleeing her mind.

He looked bad. His face had a grayish tint, and his lips were white. His eyes were closed and his lids looked bruised. Sweat trickled down his throat in glimmering trails even though inside the aircar it was cold.

“Hera,” he rasped behind the mask.

“I’m here.”

“You’ll lead them,” he said. “Yes?”

She had no need to ask who he meant. The street kids. His army. The resistance. The future government, if it came to that, and Dakru.

She stared at him, and all the pieces finally fell into place in her mind; the thing that had been escaping her in the fuzz of the drugs, the realization niggling at the back of her mind.

He’d said he wanted her to lead the new government if this war ended in peace. After all, he was still a boy, younger than herself.

A boy who’d set up a resistance army who might topple the regime, who kept tabs on everyone he thought was important, who had organized the final battle and who had extracted them from the tight spots they’d been in with his quick thinking and calm in the face of danger.

She had not been too keen on leading the new state, if and when it happened, but now, with sudden clarity, she knew she would not. Was not cut out for it. Her strength lay in strategizing and acting in times of battle, not peace.

Above all, she thought, Mantis, young or not, was far better suited than her to a position of power and responsibility. He’d already been doing it for years.

He’d do a much better job and he’d set the world to rights.

“No.” She shook her head, even though she wanted to comfort him, but she could not let him off the hook. Could not let him give up. “I cannot. You will have to do it.”

His eyes opened to slits. “Please, Hera. From the start, I knew you could do this, should do this. Lead them to freedom.”

“You will lead them,” Hera said. “All the way. It’s you they want, you they obey and trust. You they love. And with good reason.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and bowed her head, her eyes stinging as if with acid. “I need you to lead us, Mantis. You can survive this, I know it. We’re almost there.”

He said nothing and she hoped it meant he would try, although she feared he was beyond caring.

***

“Iliathan has a Gultur girlfriend?” Kalaes munched on a ration bar, gun propped by his feet. “You’re pulling my leg. Gultur like chicks, Hera said so, and Iliathan definitely doesn’t look like one.” He swallowed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Does he? I mean, maybe with boobs and a nice blouse he might—”

“Kal!” Alendra slapped his arm. “Be serious for once.”

“Can’t.” Kalaes took another large bite from his bar. “You try it.”

Alendra mock-punched his shoulder. “I’m always serious.”

“Ow.” Kalaes fended her off, protecting his food. “So, what’s the truth?”

“Sexuality is a cline,” Bestret said, her tone neutral, as if talking about the weather. ‘Nice day today. Sexuality is a cline’. “A few of us like men. Under the regime, we hid this inclination as it was not viewed well. As for myself, I find Iliathan quite attractive.”

Kalaes whistled. “Iliathan, you lucky bastard.”

Elei rested his head on the window pane, lips pulling in a smile.

His lids grew heavy. Rex was quiet, his body numb, and the discussion appeared to be over, as Kalaes seemed satisfied with the replies, for now.

The two New Gultur sitting on the other seat were talking in low, calm tones and the aircar engine whirred gently, lulling him.

He sank into a sea of blood. Dead bodies floated around him, faces he knew. He clawed at the water, but he couldn’t swim. He was sinking, terror driving into his chest like a blade.

Next thing he knew he was being shaken, his breath constricted, a cold pit of fear in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Alendra asked, her hands on his arms, and Elei caught Kalaes’ concerned gaze over her shoulder.

Dammit, when would the nightmares stop? Pissed and damn mortified, he nodded and turned away, because he could still see Poena’s face over Alendra’s, and Poena was dead. The gunshot wounds burned and throbbed. The painkillers were starting to wear off. Just how long had he been asleep?

Alendra moved away and he dared look up again. Kalaes was sorting through their ammo, checking which magazines fit his gun, fiddling with the settings. Alendra sat by the window, huddled in her black jacket, gaze locked on the darkness outside.

“We’ll be there soon,” Iset said. “In about an hour.”

It felt as if centuries had passed since that morning, when he’d helped Alendra make breakfast for Zoe’s charges. Since he’d been caught by the regime and talked with Maera. Shit. A shudder wracked him and he glanced at Kalaes, who was sorting through their ammo, checking which magazines fit his gun. Should he say he’d met Maera? Should he tell Kalaes what she’d said?

“How are we going to get inside the plant?” Alendra muttered. “Iliathan will get us as far as the building, but to enter?”

“I have an idea.” Kalaes fiddled with his gun’s settings, his expression troubled.

Elei drew his Rasmus and pulled out the magazine. He field-stripped the gun and cleaned it. He’d need more bullets. He snagged some from Kalaes who swatted at him and muttered about thieving little brothers.

Kalaes sounded out of breath, Elei thought, and had sweat rolling down his face. He’d taken off his jacket, although it was damn cold inside the aircar, but he wasn’t bleeding; his t-shirt was stained but the blood was dry and brown.

Stop worrying.

Elei turned back to his task. He put the gun back together and shoved the magazine inside, clicking the safety on.

Ready. For whatever was to come.

What came first was a lurch that almost threw him out of the seat.

“Roadblock,” Iset hissed and pulled the seat forward, revealing a space behind. “Hide.”

“That’s convenient,” Kalaes shimmied behind the seat. “You often carry illegal passengers?”

Alendra wedged herself between him and Elei, and Iset put the seat back. Alendra’s elbow dug into his injured side and his bandaged arm was pressed against the side of the aircar. His back throbbed, and Rex was stirring inside his head, whispering about death and bullets.

A knock rocked the door of the aircar and Elei leaned forward. Through the opening between the seat and the wall, he could see a visored Gultur. She held her longgun loosely in one hand, a data-rod in the other, and her chest pulsed bright.

“What is your business?” she snapped. “Your vehicle is not registered in my roster. Are you authorized to travel toward the capital?”

“I have the codes,” Iset said and motioned for the data-rod, which the visored Gultur gave up with reluctance. Iset’s slender fingers tapped on the keys. “We are reporting for security work at the water purification plant.”

“Expecting trouble, are you, senet?” The visored Gultur retrieved the data-rod and pressed a button.

“Routine guard change.”

“Move along then.” The Gultur nodded and left. Iset closed the door and the aircar engines rumbled back to life.

“Oh gods,” Alendra breathed out, leaning her head back as they rolled down the street.

He pushed the seat forward and climbed out, the inside of the aircar still blazing with colors. “How far are we from the plant?”

Bestret tapped on the divider and a window opened. A Gultur nodded at them, her hair golden like Alendra’s, caught in the customary Gultur ponytail. “How far to the plant?”

“Ten miles.”

The window closed and Bestret came to sit with them. She was a pretty woman with lustrous black hair and large, dark eyes, one of them faintly glowing with shards of blue — Rex’s mark.

“We have another aircar that will join us shortly,” she said. “We kept some distance from them, not to raise suspicions.”

“More of you to change the guard?” Kalaes drawled. “Won’t that make the patrol suspicious?”

“The others will say they are heading elsewhere.”

“Heading where? I don’t like secrets, fe. Maybe it’s time you told us more about yourselves, and why we should trust you. For all we know, you may be leading us straight into a trap. An elaborate one, but still. Your kind wants Elei, and now you’ve got him, and me, and maybe—”

Alendra jabbed a finger in his chest, making him wince. “Shut it, Kal. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. They’re keeping things from us, I can tell, and they have codes for the damn blockades. Did Iliathan give them to you, or aren’t you who you say you are?”

“We pretend to be part of the system,” Iset said. “It is our cover.” She looked at Bestret.

“And did you pretend for Iliathan, too?” Kalaes waved a hand in the air, a dark flush in his cheeks. “Does he get to have fun with the both of you? Or does he get to watch when you screw each other?”

Elei’s heart began to pound. What was Kalaes on about?

“Kal!” Alendra dragged him toward the other seat. “You sound crazy. Maybe we can find some sedative for you, you’re manic again.”

“It was an honest-to-the-gods question, fe. I was just curious and wouldn’t you think a guy would like to know... Dammit.” Kalaes threw himself in the seat and rubbed his face. He sucked a deep, shaky breath. “Sorry.”

Alendra threw Elei a questioning look, but he didn’t know what to think. Why did Kalaes think Bestret and Iset slept together? Iset had explained again, for Kalaes’ benefit, that some Gultur liked men, and even if Bestret liked both sexes, it didn’t mean...

Elei sighed. Maybe Kalaes was right to be suspicious, and curious, and confused. Hells, he was too, only he tried to convince himself nothing was wrong.

“Let’s just go,” he said and took his seat. “Not much time left.”

Chapter Ten

They drove through the suburbs. Elei caught glimpses of abandoned buildings, their windows shuttered with nepheline patches, and lined faces around small fires in narrow alley mouths, smoke swirling in the wind. Winter had closed in, its bite sharp.

Then they were rolling out of the city, the buildings thinning out, replaced by open expanses of brushland and swamp, a few scattered algae ponds glinting in a brief showing of the moon. Elei looked up. It looked like a silver disk, like the medal hanging around Kalaes’ neck.

The clouds unfurled, covering it again, erasing the world until his possessed eye adjusted to the dimness.

“It’s pitch,” Alendra muttered by his ear, startling him. “What are you seeing?”

“There’s a hamlet up those hills.” He pointed. “They must tend those algae ponds.” Alendra gave a soft snort, because of course she couldn’t see them. “No sign of the process plant yet, but Dakru City is that way, I can see the tall buildings, and there,” he shifted his finger toward the north, “up on the mountains is Bone Tower, the sacred citadel.”

“What does it look like?”

Elei lowered his hand and sat back — images of the gods carved in white marble, water gurgling and streaming down the slopes among trees and flowers, children playing, blood and more blood and pain.

“Beautiful,” he managed to say. “Colorful. I only saw part of it.” The great temple of Regina and the fountain, water rippling and shimmering, then tinted red and turned frothy, pock-marked by bullets.

“I wish I could see it,” Alendra whispered and her small hand covered his on the seat. He inhaled her scent and tried to calm his heart.

An agaric grove loomed on the side of the road, the stalks young and no taller than a person, their wide caps delicate and glowing bright. A dark mass further down the road caught his eye and he leaned forward.

Faint lights marked the perimeter of the chainlink fence surrounding the purification plant, a round, domed building. It was framed by long, rectangular storehouses that crouched by its sides like faithful dogs. The entrance was brightly illuminated with spotlights.

His breath fogged the glass and he cleaned it with his sleeve. Where were Zoe and the others? No sign of any parked aircars. A hulking shadow in front of the warehouses turned out to be a heavy truck, its lights turned off.

The aircar powered down, settling behind the agaric grove.

Silence. Scintillating spores fluttered in the air. Nothing else moved.

“Something’s wrong,” Kalaes said.

“Maybe they hid the aircars in a warehouse,” Iset said. “They may be waiting for help.”

“They don’t have the codes to enter the plant, only to pass the blockades and the outer fence.” Kalaes ran a hand through his wild hair. “They’d have waited for us.” He frowned. “Now that I think about it... How did Mantis send Zoe the message?”

“Iliathan,” Bestret said.

“And how do you know that?” Elei muttered, squinting at her.

“We received the same message,” Iset said. “I assume they received it from the same source.”

Kalaes shot to his feet and began to pace. “If Iliathan betrayed us all... Were screwed.”

“Iliathan would not do that,” Bestret said.

“But what if he did? Think about it. He’d know everything we’re doing. He’d have set the Gultur on Elei and captured Zoe and the kids.” He shook his head. “Mantis, Hera, they’d not change the plan at the last minute. There would be no guarantee we’d get the message in time.”

“Or else your mortal friends merely failed to capture the plant.” Iset glared. “Or they’re inside, having given up on waiting for you, and you’re kicking up a fuss for no reason.”

“No reason? You’d better watch it, Gultur.” Kalaes opened his mouth to say more, and Iset’s hand inched toward her gun.

Elei gripped Kalaes’ arm. “If Zoe and the others have been caught, is there a way to know?”

Iset glanced at the other Gultur and nodded. “A classified message with a glitcher to notify HQ would be expected. Unless they consider the occurrence not important and choose to ignore it.”

A bunch of kids with some weapons, breaking into a water purification plant. Caught, if not killed. Elei suppressed a shudder. Would it be reported?

“Check it,” he heard himself say and squeezed Kalaes’ trembling arm. “We need to know.”

Iset threw him a long look, then knocked on the driver’s window. A narrow door opened and both she and Bestret slid through and vanished into the driver’s cabin.

Elei tipped his head, listening in. Did they know he could hear them? They were explaining the situation to the driver.

“I don’t pissing trust them,” Kalaes said.

Elei frowned. “Why not?” Iset was asking for the glitcher. Nothing suspicious.

“They lie, fe.” Kalaes went to a box in a corner of the cabin and rummaged inside, pulling out a ration bar.

“About?”

“They said Bestret likes men. But these two...” Kalaes unwrapped the bar and took a big bite out of it. “I can see where a Gultur has touched, and the places Bestret and Iset were touched... That’s not common practice between friends, fe. The touches were recent. I can tell. The marks are bright. Each Gultur’s is a slightly different color. I think they’ve been going at it like pigeons.” He waved the bar, chewing thoughtfully. “If they lie about this, they may lie about more.”

“You’re saying Iset and Bestret sleep together?” Alendra glanced at the driver’s cabin. “Or maybe you’re upset because they don’t think you’re hot after all?”

“What? No. Besides, how do you know they don’t think I’m hot?” He winked and bit more off the sweet bar.

“Why would they lie?” Elei whispered.

“Maybe Bestret likes both men and women,” Alendra said, color rising to her cheeks. “It happens.”

“And who cares if they do?” Kalaes frowned. “I’m talking about lies.”

“She said she finds Iliathan attractive,” Alendra said, making a face. “She never said she doesn’t like women, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kalaes dug out another ration bar, the smell of sugar hitting Elei’s senses like a sledgehammer.

“Man, you shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?” Kalaes lapped at the crumbs on his fingers.

“Shouldn’t eat that.” Elei made a grab for the food, Rex screeching inside his head, demanding sweet, only to miss it and stumble forward. “Give it to me.”

“Find your own.” Kalaes stuck his tongue out.

“You’re acting like dogs over a bone,” Alendra said. “What the hells?”

“Can’t let him have more sugar,” Elei muttered, Rex sending lightning pain down his nerves for denying it what it craved when it was so close, within reach. He remembered all too well the hell of Rex’s power, the control it had over him, playing him like a puppet.

No, thanks anyway.

And still his hand strayed toward the ration bar and he wanted to tell Alendra, beg her, to take the sweet away.

“Elei?”

He forced his gaze from the promise of deliverance, sweat running down his back. He opened his mouth to explain, but Rex struck again, fire burning his insides, making him groan. “No.”

“What is it?” Alendra reached out for him, her eyes concerned, and he tried again.

“Put the rations away.” Please.

She nodded and wrestled Kalaes for them, but Kalaes was stronger; he shoved her away and she fell with a yelp.

It broke the paralysis. Rex sent jolts through him, but Elei gritted his teeth and reached a hand to help her up. Screw you, Rex. He pulled her to her feet, turned to Kalaes and knocked the food from his hand.

Kalaes drew back a fist, his lips curling in a snarl, and dammit, this was going to the hells.

“Kal, let it go, it’s Rex, it wants you to eat—”

Kalaes’ fist connected with his jaw. Stars exploded in Elei’s eyes, then the pain hit, and he staggered back, tripping and crashing into a seat.

Well, at least the pain gave Rex something else to worry at. He dropped his thudding head on his arms and waited for the world to stop spinning. Could have been worse, he supposed. At least Kalaes hadn’t shot him.

Talking of whom...

“Flaming hells,” Kalaes grunted. “Let go of me, fe, I just want to see if he’s okay.”

Elei struggled to sit up, his jaw blaring pain along his skull. He’d have matching bruises on either side of his head. Joy.

“You punched him, Kal.” Alendra sounded grim. “Stay away from him.”

“I wasn’t... Dammit, I didn’t mean to. Shit.”

Kalaes had no clue how to deal with Rex, Elei reminded himself, and the parasite was going through the cycles it had gone through with him. Which meant... Pissing hells. He’d been there not too long ago and now it was Kalaes’ turn.

My fault for infecting him. Though, what other choice had there been?

Alendra held Kalaes by the arm, and he simply stared at Elei, face pale. He could have broken her hold easily, Elei thought, but he’d stopped trying. His breathing came in hissing gasps.

“Ale, it’s okay,” Elei said. “Kal...”

“Elei.” Alendra looked from one to the other, her eyes narrow. “Is he getting worse or is it my imagination?”

“Yeah,” Elei muttered, dismayed, and leaned back. “It may get worse yet.”

Kalaes mumbled a curse.

“What in the five hells is happening?” said Alendra. Her hold on Kalaes had turned into a semi-hug  and he leaned against her, an arm folded across his stomach.

Elei rubbed his throbbing jaw. “Kalaes’ Rex is cresting.”

***

“Any change?” Hera asked. She’d taken the driver’s seat, since Sacmis seemed woozy and unfocused.

“He’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sacmis muttered, straightening from Mantis’ side and returning to the co-driver’s seat. She sank into it with a sigh.

Hera refused to show her relief. She adjusted the itchy mask over her face, when what she really wanted to do was throw it down and stomp on it. She felt woozy and wondered if their oxygen was depleted. “Good. We’re almost out of these damn swamps.”

Sacmis nodded, her rapid breathing echoing in the narrow confines of the vehicle. She slid a curious glance at Hera. “You’re not affected, are you?”

“What?” Did Sacmis mean emotionally affected? Because Hera was struggling so hard not to scream and pound on the panel her every muscle hurt.

“I mean from the gas. Here I am, dizzy and slow, and you keep driving as if nothing happened.”

Hera blinked at the glittering water around them, on which the horizontal sunrays danced in pretty patterns. “I suppose I’m not affected.” Regina’s pure strain. It seemed it had some perks, after all, if she managed not to fall prey to madness. Which was still debatable.

“You suppose.” Sacmis giggled, her head falling against the backrest. “Oh, Hera.”

Hera arched a brow. Sacmis never giggled. Which meant... “Our oxygen is out. We need to unseal the aircar.”

“But we’re still in the swamps!”

“The gas is not lethal. If I’m not affected, I’ll keep driving and you can doze with Mantis until we reach our goal. If we both pass out from lack of oxygen, we’ll never make it.”

Sacmis nodded, sighed, closed her eyes. “Right.”

“Get to it, Sacmis. Now!”

Sacmis jerked, blinking furiously. “Yes, senet.” She struggled up and started pulling tape from the window seams.

Hera chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And hold on tight.” In one motion, she yanked off her mask and pressed on the acceleration button.

May Nunet help us now.

***

“There’s a transmission. We’re waiting for the decoder to process it,” Iset said, fiddling with the glitcher’s dials, a strand of hair curling against her cheek like a golden tail. “Glitchers send messages in a loop for a specified period of time, usually a few hours. If they’ve caught your friends, and decided to let HQ know, we should be able to hear it.”

Her scent of sweet flowers and ripe fili fruit was growing stronger — or Rex was taking more notice. Traveling with them was a bad idea. If only they had another option.

Kalaes stood across from him, leaning against the cabin wall, his arms folded. His normally spiky hair hung in his eyes and his jaw was clenched.

The new bruise on Elei’s face had to be spectacular.

Damn, he ought to talk to Kalaes, tell him about the things Rex would put him through and ways to cope. Cope as much as possible, anyway, which was better than being washed down, defenseless in the rushing tide that was Rex.

Iset raised the glitcher, a thing shaped like a telespeak receiver, and pressed a button. A female voice spoke in even tones, the words incomprehensible.

Not speaking the common tongue. Figured.

“Translation?” Kalaes grated.

Iset pressed her lips together and sat with the glitcher in her lap. She switched it off.

“Well?” Alendra tilted her head, hands fisting at her sides. “What’s it say?”

“Nunet’s snakes.” Iset sighed. “You were right. Your friends were caught.”

Elei sank on the seat, breathless, the words a punch in his gut. He’d somehow hoped it wasn’t true.

“Dammit.” Kalaes slammed a fist into the aircar wall, making the metal groan. “I knew. I pissing knew this would happen. Nothing can ever go right. Must be a curse.”

“Are they all right?” Elei asked.

“They do not say.” Iset adjusted a dial. “But they do say your friends were captured alive.”

Relief swamped Elei.

“We’ll go after them,” Alendra said.

“Let’s think this over. What we should do,” Bestret said, “is go to Bone Tower.”

Alendra gaped. Kalaes turned slowly, his face a thundercloud.

Elei narrowed his eyes. “What for?”

“That’s the place we need to seize.” Iset tightened her fingers on the glitcher. “Wrench it from the regime’s hands, take control of Regina’s vaults, the fleet and the temple. Think about it. If the fleet is set on your friends, they’ll die.” She shook her head. “But it’s more than that. Bone Tower is not just a city; it’s a symbol, the emblem of Gultur supremacy, the crown of their power. Take it and they’ll flounder and fall. They’ll believe their goddess has deserted them, fallen into the hands of unbelievers. Coupled with the upcoming celebrations for Regina’s birth... We’ve been waiting for this, the perfect opportunity. Bone Tower is not far from here. We should go.”

“The hells we should,” Kalaes said, wrenching the aircar door open. “You’re out of your pissing mind. I’m getting Zoe and Dain out. I’ll go alone if I have to.”

“Wait.” Bestret moved to block Kalaes’ way. “Think first. This is not about us. It is about the world of the Seven Islands. Losses will be incurred. Collateral damage is expected.”

“Collateral.” Kalaes snorted and it was an ugly sound. “Can you hear yourself? Friends aren’t junk to be thrown away when you’re sinking.”

“Friends.” Bestret snorted, too, a bad imitation. “You don’t know them any better than you do us. And they’re just mortals.”

“Kal’s right, you’re out of your mind,” Elei said, heat rising in his neck. “We’re all mortals.”

“No, you’re not,” Iset said. “Do not fool yourselves. You’re Rex’s own, and your laws are different. We know the stories; we know you came back from the dead time and again. Mortals are a weaker race.”

“I see,” Alendra said and rolled her eyes. “Sorry for existing, then. So, what, you abandoned Regina for Rex thinking that way you’ll live forever?”

“We did not abandon Regina,” Bestret said, annoyed. “Rex chose us, spared our lives.”

“The hells you say,” Kalaes said and shoved Bestret aside, or tried. “Pissing lunatics. The plan was to create some noise and distract the regime, not to take control of anything, and certainly not leave the kids to the mercy of the Gultur police, so get the hell out of my way.”

“We could force you to come with us,” Bestret said, looking at Kalaes’ hand on the collar of her suit. She lifted a dark brow. “Two aircars are right behind us, just arrived to join us.”

“Why?” Elei wanted to know. “What do you need us for?”

“Symbols,” Iset said, gaze lowered. “They’re important.”

“They want to replace Regina through you,” Alendra said, and Elei bit his lip, trying not to laugh because, really, it wasn’t funny.

“We’re staying,” he said. “Can’t leave the others behind.”

Iset rubbed her brow with the heel of her palm. “If we help you get them back.” She looked up. “Then will you come with us to Bone Tower?”

Put that way... Elei’s headache redoubled.

Kalaes glanced at him over his shoulder, brows drawn together, a question in his eyes. Alendra was giving him a thoughtful look; he could see the wheels turning behind the gold of her gaze. She nodded, a slight dip of the head.

“It’s a deal,” Elei said, tired and wishing it was all over already, wishing he could wake up in a warm bed, in a quiet house with everyone around him, alive and happy. He’d give anything to be there.

But, like always, nothing came for free.

Chapter Eleven

“We cannot risk many of us, in case we’re captured. We’ll take the back exit,” Iset said, drawing a map of the plant with a red marker. “Four of us. You take the front entrance, as a decoy. The others will wait in the aircars to take us away if things go awry.”

“How gracious of you,” Kalaes hissed. “Sure, by all means let us go in first while you wait in the back to save your precious asses.”

“I do not see why you’re upset,” Iset said calmly. “You carry Rex. It will protect you.”

“Yeah right.” Kalaes shook his head. “Everyone has a damn agenda.”

“How are we going to go through the fence?” Elei asked. It was well over ten feet high.

“Can you not jump over it?” Bestret’s tone was slightly condescending, and a little surprised.

“My leg jets are not working quite as they used to,” Kalaes drawled. “Maybe in your infinite wisdom you can think up another way?”

Iset sighed. “We have cutters. They’re rusty, though, and may not work well.”

“We’ll take them,” Kalaes said.

Elei nodded and bent over the map. He had no idea what Rex was capable of, but Alendra was coming along. Leaving her with these mysterious Gultur wasn’t an option. Deep inside, he feared Kalaes was right, and that they couldn’t be trusted, holding to their own agenda.

Meanwhile, the minutes ticked by and the attack on Dakru City was growing closer.

Elei rubbed a hand over his face. This distraction had failed. Maybe Iset was right. Maybe going for Bone Tower wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

If they managed to get Zoe and the others out. If they weren’t captured themselves, or killed.

“The aircars will be waiting for us at the back,” Iset said, “ready to depart. We’re leaving in exactly half an hour. Whoever is not back by then shall remain here. Understood?”

“Your magnanimity amazes me,” Kalaes muttered.

“And your manners could use some improvement,” Bestret snapped. “We’re playing along to your childish tantrum in order to free some kids when we should be on our way to Bone Tower.”

Elei took a hold of Kalaes and dragged him back. “Easy now.”

“Childish tantrum?” Kalaes growled. “Are you pissing kidding me?”

“Time flies,” Bestret said, unperturbed. “Best get on with it.”

Muttering curses that involved the gods and an unfortunate dog, Kalaes thrust the door of the aircar open and stormed out.

“Is he always like that?” Iset said, a brow raised.

“Only when pushed,” Elei said, following him out, into the scintillating light of the grove.

***

They chose to enter from the side, between lamps marking the perimeter, hoping to hide in the dark. The cutters were rusty as promised, and their bite so ineffective Elei wondered if Iset had meant for them to be captured then and there.

Decoy, right. Just how fanatic were these New Gultur? It all sounded like a test of faith to them — see if Rex would indeed save its chosen ones.

Damn.

Kalaes grunted, arms trembling as he plied them again, and this time a swath of chainlink was severed. Another cut, and another, and Elei was able to pull a piece aside like a door. The wound in his side throbbed; he’d thought of secretly asking Iset for more painkillers, but they made him drowsy and he couldn’t afford that now.

Besides, with Rex to the fore, the wounds would knit quickly if he didn’t tear them open again.

“I go first,” he whispered and shimmied through before the others got a chance to stop him. Kalaes could feel all the guilt he wanted; Elei wasn’t letting him get shot, period.

The spotlight swept the yard and he dropped to a crouch with a hiss, watched the beam pass over his head.

Alendra squirmed through the fence and dropped next to him, golden eyes watchful. “Guards?” she mouthed and he nodded, pointing to the immense doors of the compound.

Two silhouettes with longguns were standing on either side of the entrance, their visors reflecting the lights along the fence.

They’d have to take them down. He’d have to. He’d been in such situations before, and although he wasn’t alone this time, he kinda wished he was. He could take pain, but losing the others...

“Lovely,” Kalaes muttered, extricating himself from the chainlink, a scratch bleeding black on his cheek. “I see the welcome party is waiting. Where are the drinks, then?”

The spotlights were fixed on top of the entrance, on a rotating disk. Elei squinted at it. A long shot. He hoped Alendra and Kalaes could take it successfully, because he had another job.

He made sure the safety was on and pushed his Rasmus securely into its holster at his hip. “Shoot the spotlights,” he whispered. “I’ll take the guards out.”

He was already rising from his crouch when Kalaes’ heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“The hells you are, fe. You’ve got better aim than me. You shoot the lights.” And he was off, slinking toward the building before Elei had a chance to explain.

That he knew how Rex could protect him, what it might do. Dammit.

With a sigh, he drew his Rasmus and squinted at the rotating lights. “You shoot the other lights, on top of the fence gate,” he told Alendra and she bit her lip and took aim.

Kalaes was approaching the building when the spotlight turned toward him.

Elei pressed the trigger. The shots went off one right after the other, deafening, and the lamps exploded into sparks and glass. Before Elei’s ears had stopped ringing, Alendra had pulled him to his feet and they were running toward the entrance.

Kalaes was down on his knees, a hand to his head. Worry gripped Elei’s chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, but the two Gultur guards seemed confused, not aiming at him. One of Rex’s tricks, probably, lowering Kalaes’ body temperature to make him invisible to their infrared vision.

Elei gasped a breath of relief.

Then, of course, the Gultur turned their guns on him and Alendra who had to be flaring bright and clear in the night.

Hells.

Throwing Alendra behind him, he took aim and fired on one of the guards. He’d aimed for the chest, but she twisted and her gun went off. Her shot went wide, a whistle past his ear, then he saw movement and dropped on top of Alendra as another gunshot rang.

Kalaes had tackled the other guard, but you never knew.

Alendra blinked dazedly at him. Her hood had fallen back, sending golden hair spilling on the ground, and her lips parted as if she was about to speak.

He leaned in, kissed them lightly, watched her eyes widen, and pulled back, breathing hard. Taste of ripe berries, and he wanted more, but even with Rex pounding in his head and causing sparkles in his vision, he was unsure if he’d gone too far.

“Sorry,” he whispered, suddenly too aware of her soft curves against him, and pushed off her. “Sorry, I’ll—”

A hand hauled him up and he stared into Kalaes’ grinning face. Well, more of a snarl, really, manic and scary, but at least he seemed okay.

“Had to make sure you were all right,” Kalaes said, dragging Alendra upright, too. “Holy shit, this Rex is something. Everything went black and I thought for sure I was going to pass out. My head still pounds.”

Looked like Rex still used some of its old methods. Reassured Kalaes was fine, Elei turned toward the entrance that was now opening, the glint of visors and guns looming through the widening crack.

“Well, then.” He took a deep breath, hoping Iset and Bestret had found a way in from the back. “The real fun begins.”

***

Sacmis slumped in the co-driver’s seat, her head lolling forward, and Hera was not sure Mantis still breathed. Not that she could go back and check when she was the one driving the aircar, and the only one still awake.

As evening descended, the ground began to look more solid. The swamps fell behind. Hera snagged the map from Sacmis’ lap and spread it one-handed on the control panel next to the steering lever, trying to study it while driving and almost going cross-eyed.

Crashing the aircar into a hillock because she was not paying attention to where she was going would be a real pity after all the effort they’d put into this.

At least her head was clearing. The damn gases were receding, along with the swamps. Reaching to the side, Hera cracked the window open.

Oh gods, her first breath of fresh air was like algae cake dripping with syrup. Hera sucked it in deep gulps, feeling her thoughts clear. The air was cold and scented with the subtle musky scent of agaric spores. She could see a glow in the distance, a white glimmer in the gathering dark.

They were close now; so close.

“Wake up!” She shook Sacmis’ slender shoulder, then again. “Sacmis?” She tugged at the mask on that still face and feared for a moment Sacmis was not breathing. This time she did almost crash the aircar as she tried to find a pulse.

“’M okay.” Sacmis batted at Hera’s hand and missed. “Stop it.”

Hera grinned widely. “Gods,” she whispered, “I love you.”

“What do the gods care if you love them?” Sacmis muttered irritably, still half asleep.

“Not the gods, you stupid kheret. You.” I love you.

It did not matter if Sacmis did not get it. Hera would prove it to her. As long as they remained alive.

Everything was good. They were both fine, and...

Crap. “Mantis.” Hera jerked around in her seat. Before she could move, Sacmis shot to her feet and rushed to the boy’s side.

“He’s breathing,” Hera heard her say through the buzz in her ears. “Cannot wake him, though.”

“Fresh air will help.” Hera’s hands shook with relief. “Open the windows and try again.”

The night rolled over them like a black wave — or maybe the gas had affected her after all. Hera’s grin turned into a sneer.

They’d make it. They had to.

According to the map, they were now skirting the area they were seeking. With their long detour, they’d avoided the blocked southward road and were a few miles away from the underworld entrance, moving through humid K-bloom fields.

She heard a cough and turned to find Mantis sitting up, his face drawn and pallid.

“About time you woke up,” she said gruffly, hoping her voice did not sound as choked as it felt. It would be embarrassing and she was a Gultur Echo, dammit, daughter of a goddess, not some sniffling mortal woman. “Better take point at the back and sides. We do not want the regime watching us as we unearth the war machine.”

Mantis turned to her, his dark eyes slowly focusing. “Hera?” he croaked. “Are you haunting me in the afterlife?”

“Why, does it look like a netherhell to you?” Hera barked. “No, you’re still with us and have some work to do before you rest.”

Mantis’ lips pulled into a slow grin. “We made it?”

“Through the swamps,” Sacmis said, handing him his gun. “Still need to dig out the machine.”

“I think we’re almost there,” Hera said, squinting through the darkness. “Sacmis, does this place look familiar?”

A hut in the middle of the fields, the glowing spires of Abydos in the distance.

“This is it,” Sacmis breathed. “We’re back.”

Back where they’d emerged only six days ago, but seemed like ages.

“How will you find it?” Mantis rasped, checking the ammo of his gun.

“A hundred paces from the house,” Sacmis whispered, as Hera had instructed her that evening when they’d dragged themselves out of the vent, steeped in dirt and so exhausted they could barely think.

“But which direction?” Hera muttered.

“Damn.” Sacmis sighed. “We’d better get to work.”

Chapter Twelve

Things weren’t going so well. Kalaes had taken a hit to the leg in the first moments after the doors opened and he’d dropped to the floor.

Elei inched toward him. “Kal,” he called, “Kalaes!”

Bullets flew. He plastered himself back to the wall, checking Alendra was still with him.

“I’m fine.” Kalaes shook his head but didn’t get up. “Just pissing fine.”

Good. Elei took shot after shot, trying to force the Gultur to fall back behind the doors. Alendra followed suit and damn but her aim was good. She took out two Gultur who’d been about to come out, making him absurdly proud.

Where in the hells were Iset and Bestret?

Something rolled out the doors and clinked down the two concrete steps to Elei’s feet.

“Grenade.” Alendra’s horrified whisper made no sense for a long moment.

“Shit.” Elei kicked it away, sent it tumbling out into the yard, then grabbed Alendra and propelled her toward Kalaes. He pushed her down and crouched over them, creating a protective cover, hoping snakeskin wouldn’t mind taking another beating.

The air exploded into heat and noise. The brunt of it hit his back and shoulder, throwing him sideways and face down.

In the white buzz filling his head, a tiny voice was trying to be heard. Exposed, we’re exposed, it whispered urgently, we have to get under cover.

Hot stings of pain jabbed into his arms and legs as he raised himself on all fours, squinting toward Kalaes and Alendra. He found them staring at the doors. Okay, what in the hells had happened now?

A hand reached down for him and he stared at it stupidly. A woman’s hand with dark lines on the knuckles. A Gultur?

“I told you Rex would protect you,” Iset said, smiling at him.

He took her hand because he hurt all over, dammit, and could use some help getting to his feet. “Kal,” he rasped.

Every stretch of skin and flesh ached and burned, but he wasn’t missing any limbs at least — was he? He took a step and was glad to find he still had everything attached.

“Are you okay?” Alendra was helping Kalaes stand. He looked dazed, and blood darkened his pant leg.

A sob of relief caught in Elei’s throat to see them both alive.

“Let’s move,” Iset said. “We have not found your friends yet and there is barely any time left.”

Time, right, ticking. Elei glanced around for his gun, found it lying by the wall. Iset let him go and he stooped to pick it up, only slightly dizzy. Rex was rebooting with starts and jumps, probably fixing some of the damage caused by the grenade. He hoped it’d be quick so it could dampen the pain. Some adrenaline wouldn’t hurt, either, to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

“Elei?” Alendra was tying a strip of cloth around Kalaes’ shin and casting him worried looks.

“I’m okay.” He clenched his teeth. “Let’s go.”

They strode into the building — well, okay, they strode, he staggered — guns at the ready. Bestret was waiting for them, motioning with her longgun at a door, two more Gultur covering the other door.

“They’ve gone through here, but it’s code protected.”

Elei blinked at the pad, then at the others. Guns, knives. No explosives to blow the door up, and even if they did, they risked harming the kids. His head throbbed in time to his heart, fast and nauseating.

And no solution he could see. Iset was glancing at her watch, and he knew without asking that minutes were trickling through their fingers.

“We can’t go before freeing them,” he said, but Iset only shook her head.

Dammit.

“I can open that door,” Kalaes said.

Okay, what? Elei turned to the older boy who had an arm slung over Alendra’s shoulders.

“The code,” Kalaes said. “I told you I had an idea of how to break in.”

He had, hadn’t he? Although how he hoped to do that...

“They just went through, right?” With Alendra’s help, Kalaes limped to the door and examined the pad. “They used this.”

“Probably a strongroom,” Bestret said. “They must be contacting HQ as we speak.”

“It’s the flashes,” Kalaes muttered. “I can see which keys they touched and in which order. The last one touched glows brightest. I just need to do it backward.”

Of course.

Iset and Bestret exchanged bemused and slightly annoyed glances. “But we need to be out in a few minutes.”

“Cover the damn door,” Kalaes said through clenched teeth. “They’ll be waiting for us as soon as it opens.”

Hesitantly, the Gultur raised their guns, clearly disbelieving.

Elei had no trouble believing Rex’s abilities, and cocked his Rasmus ready. If only his eyes would clear. He hoped he wouldn’t shoot anyone he wasn’t supposed to shoot.

Kalaes scowled at the pad, hand hovering over it, then punched in a code.

A beat of expectant silence, followed by another. Inside the wall, hydraulic connections hissed and the door slid open. Gunshots, bullets zipping by.

Again.

There had to be an end to this, right?

Iset stepped in front of him, firing round after round, and he heard a woman scream. Shards of something — the wall? — hit his arm but he kept going, shooting into the melee. Someone jostled him and his already precarious balance went out the window. A hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him from kissing the floor.

“They’re behind that door, I can hear Zoe,” Kalaes said. “I’ll go free them. Cover me.”

How the hells had he heard them? Elei’s ears rang. “Kal, no!”

Kalaes shoved a Gultur aside and sprinted for the door at the other end of the hall. Elei took aim and shot down a Gultur raising her gun, then another. The ringing in his ears was getting worse instead of better.

“No, Kal, watch out!” Alendra screamed and threw herself on a visored Gultur. A shot went off and plaster fell from the ceiling.

Elei elbowed someone coming from his left and shot another Gultur aiming at Kalaes who was wrenching the door open.

“We need to leave, now!” Iset shouted. Couldn’t the damn woman wait for two minutes?

Kalaes began herding the kids out into the hall, and Elei caught sight of Zoe’s braids.

“Move!” Bestret yelled from behind him, shoving him. “Take cover.”

He staggered and stumbled, dropping to his knees, just as the air exploded into fire and smoke.

Another damn grenade?

Then he was thrown against a pipe and everything went white.

An insistent tugging on his jacket made him blink. He regretted it as the light sliced like razors into his brain. Maybe hitting your head so often wasn’t healthy. He’d have to remember that.

Bestret pulled him to his feet and he groaned, shading his eyes. Part of the roof had collapsed. Bodies lay strewn among the debris. “Kal?” Fear tightened its hold, crushing his chest. “Kal!”

Then he saw a body lying a few feet away and stopped mid-shout. His breath stuttered in his lungs and for a moment he feared his legs might give out.

No. No that couldn’t be.

“Ale.” Hells, no. He fell on all fours and prodded her gently. She rolled onto her back, dirty blond hair trailing over her face, her closed eyes. “No.”

Frantic, he searched for a pulse. She couldn’t die, not now, but she wasn’t Rex’s, only mortal, and oh gods, he couldn’t find a heartbeat.

Deep breaths. Not helping much with his head pounding like a drum and Rex sweeping the room, disorienting him, but he had to check... had to know.

It was like déjà vu. How many times had he been forced to check if the people he loved had died?

With shaky fingers he pressed into her carotid and thought he felt a flutter. His vision and hearing were shot to the hells, with Rex shrieking and colors pulsing. Only his fingertips could tell him if she lived.

“Elei, move, come on.” Iset grabbed his arm and half lifted him to his feet. He fought her, snarling like a rabid dog, able to smell only Gultur sweetness and dust and blood.

She left him, and he lifted Alendra — easily, too easily, Rex booming inside his head, his chest. With her head cradled to his shoulder, he rose and looked around. The kids were still spilling from the back room, Kalaes’ broad-shouldered form guiding them, his hood pulled up.

“This way,” Iset shoved a Gultur trying to get up and pistol-whipped another, opening a path to the crumpled door.

Elei followed her, clutching Alendra close, teeth grinding so hard he thought they might shatter. Helpless, useless, Rex pumping him full of needless adrenaline. What was worth this pain?

Nothing. Not even his promise to the kids, not even the world. He’d never been a hero. He only wanted to be safe, to be with Kalaes and Alendra, to have a home.

But it never worked out, did it?

Boots crunching on broken concrete and glass, he followed Iset out into the cold. Rex was flashing colors, but he didn’t care. Told the parasite to stuff it. He needed to take Alendra out of the cold, make sure... Let her be all right.

The aircar door was open and a Gultur he didn’t know reached down to take Alendra from him. He let her, following up the ladder, his arms trembling. He slipped twice on the rungs before reaching the deck and stumbled into the cabin where Alendra was laid out on a double seat, Iset by her side.

“She’s alive,” Iset said.

Elei leaned on the wall, the tremors reaching his torso. Alive. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Knocked out. I’m checking if she has any other wounds.”

“And Kalaes?” He glanced out of the aircar window as it started moving. “Wait!” He slammed his fist on the glass, then the door. “Stop the vehicle.”

“They’re boarding the other two aircars,” Iset said. “They’re bigger. We do not all fit in this one.”

There was sense in that, Elei sluggishly admitted, and looked at Iset over his shoulder. She was peeling back Alendra’s jacket, stiff with layers of plaster and what looked like blood. Alendra looked small and frail, sprawled on the nepheline. So vulnerable.

Elei turned his gaze back to the window, his eyes burning. “Where are we meeting them?”

“At Bone Tower.”

***

The temperature dropped with the fading daylight. A sharp breeze knifed through Hera’s polyesthene suit. On her far right stood the old hut she recalled from six days back, its windows dark. She remembered its occupants, their somber faces, the table they’d set with food and drink.

She’d promised them compensation for the aircar they’d taken. Well, Elei had promised. Soft-hearted mortal. A war was in the works, and he worried a family would not have food on their table if they missed their vehicle for a week.

Hera frowned. He might well have been right. The hut looked abandoned. So fragile, these mortals.

And you let them in, Regina sneered. Into your life, your heart. Where’s the princess in whose body I’ve dwelt since time immemorial?

Hera stiffened. The princess is gone. I am who I am, and you do not get to tell me how to think. She pushed the hair out of her face and pulled it down from its untidy bun.

Time to get ready for war.

Their war; not yours, Regina muttered.

Hera braided her hair and twisted it viciously around her head, tight to the point of pain. She secured it with a pin. It’s my war, too. Stay out of this, bitch.

Regina fell into shocked silence.

Served her right.

Hera checked the hut just in case, thinking her steps echoed way too loud in the quiet evening. The front door was only closed, not locked. She pushed it and glanced inside.

Dust covered the long table where they’d eaten and the empty shelves on the wall. The family had left.

It was best for them, Hera thought. If they managed to get out the war machine — and that was a big if — she was not sure she’d know how to maneuver it, at least not from the get-go, and the hut was very close to the entrance. She might crush the house or blow it up by mistake.

Her hands twitched at her sides. Not infallible. Hear that, Regina? Elei and Kalaes considered her human, and it was a good thing.

Yes, a good thing, despite its drawbacks.

Drawbacks? That’s an understatement, Regina hissed.

Hera stomped toward the others, loud enough to drown out the voice in her head. Her hands moved to her belt, checking her gun and the torch she’d brought along for the tunnels.

“Have you found it?” she called.

Sacmis waved from a spot in the midst of the fields, the red K-blooms at her feet looking black in the darkness. Mantis stood next to her, his form slighter, thinner. Hera thought he’d be taller than either of them in a year or two.

If they survived tonight.

Hera walked briskly toward them, seeing the round shape of the lid as she approached. Her heart began to pound.

It was here, right here. Sacmis crouched down, where they’d stuck rocks between the lid and the ground to keep the entrance open, her fair head bowed, glinting silver in Hera’s enhanced vision.

“Help me to push it up,” Sacmis grunted. Mantis tried to help but he was not too steady on his feet and did not benefit from Regina’s boost. Hera hurried over and helped Sacmis lift the lid higher, then shoved her shoulder underneath and pushed.

It was like trying to lift a truck, and Hera thanked all the gods she’d stopped the pills, returning Regina to her full force, otherwise the lid might have crushed the three of them. Last time they’d had Rex’s help and Kalaes’ mortal strength as well.

Do your worst, Regina, she thought, and gritted her teeth, her legs straining, muscles burning in her back and shoulders. Show me what you’re capable of, my goddess.

She heaved upward, with Sacmis and Mantis, and metal groaned as the lid lifted and wavered, then stayed vertical.

Hera stepped back, panting, every limb trembling. The void opened below, dark and full of echoes; full of secrets.

“Goddamn,” Mantis breathed, hunkering down and peering into the gloom. “Knowing about it and seeing it are two different things.”

Sacmis stood, glancing around.

“Safe?” Hera asked, her hand going to the gun holstered at her hip.

“Safe.” Sacmis nodded at Hera. “Will you do the honors?”

Hera eyed Mantis whose breathing was still shallow and fast and his pallor visible even in the dark. “Maybe he should stay here.”

“The hells I will.” His cheeks flushed. “I need to see what’s down there.”

Ah. Anger chased away the gray from his skin. Good. “Well, I’m not carrying you back up, mortal. Beware.”

And she slid into the vent, her booted foot finding the rungs of the metal ladder embedded into the wall.

Here we go again.

***

Alendra had a gash on her temple. Iset bound it, said she seemed all right otherwise, unless of course there were internal injuries.

Couldn’t tell him why Alendra wasn’t waking up. Gods, he wished Hera was here. She’d know what to do.

Or Kalaes.

Elei pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes. Pissing headache. Pissing... everything.

Casting one last look at Alendra’s still face, he stood to check through the window. No other aircar was in sight.

“Where are the others?” He turned to Iset who was dozing in the other seat, leaning against Bestret.

“Taking another route. If we look like a convoy, we’ll attract more attention.”

It all made too much damn sense, but he didn’t like it. Wasn’t even sure he’d seen Kalaes with the kids. Hadn’t seen his face, hadn’t made sure he was okay. Unease lingered like the taste of something rotten in his mouth.

He eyed Iset. Could he trust her? Kalaes hadn’t, and now he wasn’t here, and Alendra was out cold.

“What?” Iset returned the stare and arched a brow.

“Nothing.”

The aircar’s lights were off. They moved like a shadow in the night, passing glowing agaric groves and sleepy hamlets, marked by tiny flickering lights. And in the distance, like a white tree, loomed Bone Tower. Its pale spires rose phosphorescent into the dark sky.

So close.

Iset hummed, and checked her watch. “We should be at Bone tower in the next ten minutes.”

“And then what? How do you plan to go in?”

She tsked. “You have no faith. Trust me, there is a way in.”

What could he do but trust her? Besides, she’d saved his life, had agreed to help free the kids even if it wasn’t part of her plan. He was just being paranoid. Rex’s fault. Mostly.

“This fleet stationed at Bone Tower,” he whispered. “Seleukids?”

“Attalids,” Iset said.

“What in the hells are they?”

“Special planes packed with explosives, piloted by temple priestesses on suicidal missions.”

“Suicidal?” Elei rubbed the furrow between his brows. “What, they just drop with their plane?”

“Yes.”

Oh gods. “How many?”

“Not many are needed to win the war.” She looked thoughtful. “I understand there are around fifty in readiness.”

“Can they destroy a war machine?”

“They can destroy anything. They have not been used since the Great War.”

Elei swallowed hard. “And what makes you think they’ll be used now?”

Iset threw him a sharp look. “I have received intel that your friends have activated the electric pillars around Dakru. These do not only prevent the ships from approaching. The bridges become unusable, electrocuting anyone stepping on them, and the electromagnetic interference will prevent the regular fleet from approaching the islands.”

Holy shit. Elei gaped at her. Hera’s delirious ramblings had turned out to be the truth. “So you mean...”

“If your friends manage to beat the regular fleet, the temple will send in the Attalids, and that will be the end of this battle.”

Elei bowed his head, digesting that.

“We need to move you to the back,” Bestret said after a moment’s silence. “Roadblock coming up.”

He nodded, picked Alendra up. She felt heavier than before. The adrenaline rush was fading, letting him feel all the aches, old and new, and the despair. Why wasn’t she waking? This couldn’t be good, and he didn’t want to think about it but couldn’t stop. He hefted her as the aircar halted and the door hissed open. Carried her to the back. Bestret opened the cargo door and ushered him inside.

And he let her. Sparkling spores from a nearby grove washed over him, rained down like fireflies as he climbed up. He was so damn tired, and everything was spiraling out of control.

He sat next to Alendra’s still body, listening to her breathe, and closed his eyes. Nothing more he could do.

Chapter Thirteen

As Hera descended into the depths of the earth, the air turned still and damp, smelling of mold. The metal was so cold it burned her hands. Her boots bumped on the ladder and sent booming echoes down below, while Mantis’ labored breaths from above were a counter-beat.

She did not remember the ladder being long — she remembered it being endless, a path upward to the sky. Now it plunged into the darkness. The Netherhells, Kalaes had said. They were descending for a hellish machine made in the distant past, on a quest to set things right in their world.

Greenish phosphorescence from below drew her attention. Glowing fungi growing on the walls of the vent.

They should hurry, she thought. The vent lid overhead stood wide open, and their aircar was exposed — she hoped the camo sheet Mantis had brought along would hide it for a while, though any patrol happening by would not be fooled.

Her body hummed with adrenaline and it was a struggle to keep from going faster. Slipping and falling to her death would not help anyone.

Slow, painfully slow; one foot after the other, she led the way down the deep well, listening to her own breaths and letting her mind go blank.

An air current whipped her legs, and she looked down. A platform she remembered well.

“We found the elevator.” She stepped off the ladder and caught Mantis as he came after her.

“Elevator?” he wheezed, wiping sweat from his eyes.

“At last.” Sacmis thumped on the platform and pulled out her torch. She switched it on and a long beam of light pierced the gloom, moving around until it lit up the heavy elevator doors.

They were covered in symbols, Hera saw for the first time. She walked over and ran her fingertips over them. Carved in the metal, they were curling and flowing, like the ones on the map that had led them through the tunnels.

She pulled the lever and the doors creaked ponderously as they opened. “Time to go down all the way,” she said and stepped inside.

Mantis and Sacmis followed, jerking when the elevator box rocked slightly.

“Damn,” Mantis whispered.

“Hold on to something,” Hera said, flashing her torch at the control panel and switching on the descent.

“On to what?” Mantis had time to say before they plummeted into the earth. “Holy shit!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sacmis said wryly and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “Every single time.”

Hera leaned against the wall of the box and turned off her torch to preserve the dakron battery. Mantis cursed softly as darkness settled over them once more. She could still see him, of course, not perfectly, but a gray outline showed her where he slumped at Sacmis’ side.

“This thing is going... fast.” Mantis’ teeth rattled so loudly Hera could hear them. “How are we going to lift the machine so far up?”

“A special elevator,” Hera said.

“At least it looked like it.” Sacmis’ voice dropped.

“Has to be. They would not have stored something without a way of lifting it to the surface.”

“But the mechanism—”

“We’ll make it work.” She did not need Sacmis’ doubts added to her own. Her nerves tingled.

“And did you say you know how to operate one?” Mantis asked.

Hera glared at Sacmis, daring her to deny it. “It’s a machine,” she said. “We’ll operate it.”

“You mean you haven’t done it before?”

The elevator groaned and jolted, metal screeching against metal. Hera barely managed to catch herself before she fell, but Sacmis and Mantis fell in a heap on the floor.

The doors whirred open, the sound reverberating through the emptiness beyond.

“Follow me,” Hera said as the memories rose like ghosts from the ground. “I know the way.”

She ran through the dim tunnels, occasionally flashing her torch to symbols over tunnel entrances to check they were on the right path. Sacmis’ and Mantis’ torches threw white beams to the sides and sent long shadows dancing on the walls.

Hera led them through a high-ceilinged passage — here was where Alendra had almost collapsed and Elei had helped her up — and raced down a narrow tunnel, ears pricked for any sound that did not belong.

“Here.” She turned into another tunnel, and felt the movement in the air — a huge hall opened at its other end, and she ran toward it.

Reaching the end, she stopped and switched her torch on.

The war machine.

It towered, black and shiny, tall like a building, its cannons polished as if it had just been assembled, as if the technicians had just popped over to the diner around the corner for a celebratory cup.

“Holy pissing hells.” Mantis came to stand next to her and pushed his sweaty hair behind his ears. “This is incredible.”

It sure was. Beautiful and terrible like a demon of the deep.

Sacmis hurried down the steps and walked around the machine, her blond ponytail swishing across her back. “It’s sitting on a raised block of metal,” she called. “It has to be the elevator platform. See if you can find the control panel. I think we saw it in a niche in the wall somewhere.”

“What does it look like?” Mantis set off along the wall, and Hera had to admire the rapidity with which he took everything in, got over his awe and made himself useful.

Maybe she should stop being shocked every time he did something like that. He had a strong character — for a mortal, Regina added spitefully — and she should ask Kalaes about Mantis’ past when they got together again.

For drinks, Kalaes had said. They’d meet for drinks. To celebrate victory.

Focus, hatha. The war has not been won yet.

“It’s a foot-long remote,” she said and started to walk the other way, running her hand along the frigid wall.

“Black?”

“Probably.” Everything in the hall was black, like a bad premonition.

“With silver markings and handle?”

Hera stopped and turned. “You found it.”

“You doubted me?” Mantis bowed with a dramatic flourish. “You’re breaking my heart.”

Hera’s mouth twitched. “Time to rise to the surface.”

They climbed onto the smaller platform of the machine, its huge bulk dwarfing them.

“Hold on to something,” Sacmis warned, taking the control from Mantis. “The ride will be rough.”

“How will you open the dome above?” Mantis’ upturned face was set in tense lines.

“I’ll press this,” Sacmis slid her fingertip over the silver markings of the control, sending a jolt through the platform, “and hope for the best.”

The war machine shook as the platform began to rise, and they clung to it while the ground fell away. Like insects, Hera thought, taking a ride on a giant.

“Hope for the best?” Mantis grated, pressing his face to the smooth metal side of the machine. “Really?”

“Or I could press a symbol in a circle here,” Sacmis said smugly, “and see if a rocket from the cannon can clear the ceiling for us.”

“If you do that, the ceiling will fall on our heads,” Mantis said, also moving closer to the machine. “You’re pulling my leg.”

Sacmis snorted, holding onto the war machine one-handed, her other hand with the remote lifted in front of her face. “Maybe I am.”

Mantis cursed.

Then the point became moot because a panel slid aside overhead, revealing darkness, and they shot into it like a bullet sliding into the chamber of a well-oiled gun.

It was a tunnel. Hera grinned, exhilaration making her blood sing. “Hold your guns!” she called to Sacmis.

“They thought of everything, did they not?” Sacmis’ voice rang with an answering grin. “I bet food and drink is also on the way.”

“Frigging hells,” Mantis muttered, his voice barely audible in the rushing air, “I honestly can’t see what’s so funny right now.”

Then the tunnel narrowed.

“Sacmis...” Hera pressed her body flush against the machine as the platform rose perilously close to a wall. “Both of you, be careful. Not much space here.”

Higher they rose, so fast the air buffeted them and threatened to break their hold. Would the tunnel open at the top? Or would the machine shatter it and kill them?

Breathe, hatha. They must have thought it through. If the mechanism still works. If it has not rusted and stuck.

Shut up.

Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes, then opened them to a hydraulic hiss that seemed to come from inside the war machine.

Okay, what in Sobek’s name was happening?

Sacmis was shouting something. Hera could not make out the words.

“Inside.” Mantis tugged on Hera’s sleeve. “She says we should get inside.”

Inside the war machine. Of course. It was probably designed to burst through the ground like a seed, and if they were inside, they might survive.

“Climb,” she told Mantis and gestured at the protrusions on the side that had to be a ladder to the cockpit of the machine. “I’m right behind you.”

“Damn Gultur,” Mantis muttered as he obeyed. “Afraid of nothing.”

Not true, Hera wanted to say, but climbed after him. The machine was like a metal mountain, a watch-tower of old. Sacmis was climbing on the other side. She did something with the remote and panels hissed open overhead. The cockpit of the machine lit up.

“Hurry!” Sacmis shouted and pointed up.

Where the ceiling was fast approaching.

Shit.

Mantis scurried up faster and wriggled inside the cockpit. Praying they would fit, wondering for the first time how many people it took to operate the machine, Hera grabbed the rim of the opening and pulled herself inside, seeing Sacmis slither into the cockpit from the other side—

—and with a terrible crash the panels dropped shut, hitting the backs of her boots. Sacmis yelled something but Hera could not hear her, her ears ringing too loud—

A deafening explosion rocked them, throwing Hera to the floor.

After a moment of darkness, she blinked. Mantis was sprawled across a seat and Sacmis was struggling to rise to all fours. Metal screeched and impacts rocked them, throwing Sacmis back down.

The machine shook, vibrated harder, and broke through a resistant layer of something — the ground?

Then it smashed back down, dashing Hera across the cockpit into the panel, and the lights went out.

***

Voices roused Elei, and he automatically checked the gun at his belt, then Alendra. Her face was peaceful, and he swallowed hard. He stroked a thumb over her smooth, cool cheek. Why was she still unconscious?

Please, wake up.

A click and the door slid open. He blinked at Bestret, a dark silhouette against the light of Bone Tower that glimmered not a mile away.

“Cuff him,” she said and the words made no sense, until Iset moved into view, holding up steel manacles.

“What are you doing?” His brain struggled to make sense of it.

“I’m sorry,” Iset said. “This is the only way to enter Bone Tower. Our codes do not work here, they’ve placed too many restrictions since you infected the temple fountain and since the recent upheavals.”

“The only way — what way?” He inched back until his back hit the wall of the aircar. “What are you—”

“We deliver you to them,” Iset said as if it he should have guessed. Maybe he should have. “The only way to get us into the temple.”

“The temple.” He wished he could think clearly but his head hurt too much. “Why would they...?”

“They’ll want to sacrifice you,” Bestret said.

Sacrifice. Elei licked dry lips. “Why are you doing this? You said I’m your king.”

“You are,” Iset said patiently. “And now you see why we need you. Not in the way you thought. Your willing surrender will honor Rex and save us all.”

“Willing? You’ll hand me over to be killed.” The words sounded off in his ears, distant, as if someone else had spoken them.

“Rex will not let you die, you must know this by now. They want you, have been looking for you desperately. When we deliver you, they’ll let us in. You’ll give us a chance to blow up the citadel and bring down the regime.”

“What if you don’t make it? What if they kill me on the spot?”

“They will not. The sacrifice will be a grand affair. You’re much too important for anything less, and this will give us time to act.”

They’re mad, he thought, not for the first time. Rex bathed the two Gultur in blinding colors, red, orange, yellow, and the muscles in his legs and arms bunched up.  “And if I don’t agree?”

“You’ll agree for the sake of this world.”

He shot forward and grabbed Iset by the throat, his jaw so tight it hurt. “No. I’m not immortal. This won’t work.” And I don’t want to die, not when it’s for nothing.

“Be reasonable,” Bestret said, hand fisted around something. A gun? “This is bigger than you and me. Let her go.”

Let her... Elei blinked, realized Iset’s feet were dangling off the ground, and damn his arm pissing hurt. He let her go and she fell to her knees, coughing.

“If you help us, you’ll be protecting your girlfriend, and your brother. Is that not what you want?”

“Damn you.” Red misted his vision. When Iset tried to clamp the shackles around his wrists, he pushed her off, then shoved her again and turned to grab Alendra. “How can you...?” Ask me, keep asking me to choose — between them and myself, between myself and the world.

“I told you he would not come the easy way,” Bestret muttered and something stung his neck.

He spun around but heaviness spread in his limbs, making him clumsy. He reached for his gun but Iset slapped his hand away from his belt and then he was falling.

Dammit, he had the time to think before it all went black. Not... again.

***

“Hera.” Sacmis’ voice came in faint echoes. A dream? The Gods knew Hera had had them over the years, secretly hoping Sacmis would come back to her.

Had Sacmis come back to her?

“Hera!” Hands grabbed her and lifted her. Sobek, her head pounded.

Not a dream?

“I’m...” ‘Okay’ was probably not the right word. She blinked and tried to focus on the face hovering over her. “I’m alive.”

Yes, that was about right.

Sacmis heaved out a sigh and trailed a finger down Hera’s temple. “You’re bleeding.”

“See? Not dead. The dead do not bleed.” Hera smiled for Sacmis, although her face hurt as if someone had tried to smash it in — had someone tried? — and sat up. She squinted as memory returned. “Are we out?”

“We’re above ground.” Sacmis straightened, a hand pressed to her ribs. “You should thank the stars for that thick skull of yours.”

Hera frowned — and that hurt, too — trying to gauge how badly off Sacmis was. She seemed to be moving fine, at least.

Mantis sat in one of the two command chairs of the cockpit, rubbing his face. “It looks like we made it.”

Made it out alive. And now...

Sacmis dropped into the seat next to Mantis. “Right. Let’s get her on the road.”

Mantis leaned forward, eyeing the various instruments and gauges, and groaned. “Her?”

“The machine’s obviously a female,” Sacmis said, flicking a switch on. The cockpit shook and somewhere below them a powerful engine started. “Beautiful, sleek and with her guns ready.”

Hera swallowed a snort at Mantis’ wide-eyed expression as she heaved herself to her feet. She wondered if he’d ever had a girlfriend and decided probably not — caught up in war strategy since he was little.

So young.

“Move over,” she told him and he slid out of the padded chair without a word. He stood watching as she took her seat and looked the panel over.

“What do you think?” Sacmis’ gray eyes narrowed as she brushed her fingers over the buttons and levers.

“I think once you’ve driven one vehicle you’ve driven them all.”

“Then I should be able to do it, too.” Mantis leaned forward, a pale brow arching. He had a dark bruise on his jaw.

“Sit tight, mortal.” Hera licked her dry lips. The panel glowed in front of her like a constellation. She tapped her fingers on the dials, trailed them down to a button. Yes, there were similarities with the panel of the seleukids, the military airplanes, thank all the gods for that. “All right. Let’s see how fast she can move.” She flicked on a switch which would hopefully turn on the thrusters.

A scraping noise came from under their feet, the hum of an engine being activated. Sacmis’ mouth opened, to issue a warning perhaps, but the war machine lurched forward and the sudden whine drowned out whatever she’d been about to say.

Hera brushed the dust off a rectangular button and pressed it. A lever unfolded from a depression in the panel. “Steering lever,” she muttered and put both hands around it, clasping it tightly. “Brace yourselves.”

She pushed it and they shot forward through the fields.

“Hells,” Mantis whispered, lowering himself to a crouch between the chairs. “This thing’s goddamn fast.”

Hera remembered huge wheels in the war machines she’d seen in the past, and imagined them rolling over the K-bloom plants, crushing them as they advanced toward the road. “Let’s just hope the ground is solid enough.”

As if there was an option of turning back, or getting out to test the ground before moving on. Grinding her teeth, Hera turned the machine toward their abandoned aircar.

“We’ll need to take the heavenway,” Sacmis ground out. “Maybe it’s time we checked how the weapons work.”

“That’s your job,” Hera snapped, all her focus on driving the huge tower. “You have little time, so get on with it, senet.”

“Yes, hatha.” Sacmis sounded mildly amused. “At your command.”

“Am I missing something?” Mantis drawled. “I thought snapping at each other was considered love talk among your race.”

Hera glared at the darkness ahead, searching blindly for the headlights. Instead she hit the accelerator and heard Mantis grunt as he was jostled where he crouched on the floor. She grinned.

“It is,” she said. “Love talk. Now shut your mouth and check the map.”

Chapter Fourteen

The cannons of the war machine boomed, and the metal tower shook its tiny inhabitants. Hera gritted her teeth, her grip on the steering lever white-knuckled.

Mantis had fisted his hands in the map and Hera wanted to tell him to stop or he’d destroy it — but could not find the energy.

Sacmis wiped her brow on the back of her hand and grinned savagely. “The road’s free now.”

“I can see that,” Hera said dryly. The blockade had been blown to pieces. Her stomach roiled and she tried to ignore the little voice in her head crowing about victory and defeating the weak.

Death, death and more death, dammit.

As she drove on, the war machine rolling smoothly on the broad heavenway, she tried to understand what was happening inside her. Regina had not pushed her to do what she’d been expecting — kill Mantis, for instance. In fact, Regina had been pretty much quiet, apart from the occasional cacophony inside her head, and she wondered if the drugs were not yet completely out of her system.

Or if Regina was letting her off the hook. Maybe having survived the initial madness, the onset of maturation meant she would not go crazy after all.

Was it possible? Was it probable? Was the critical phase over?

Aircars followed them. They had since the first roadblock they’d blown up, and after all, a metal tower rolling on the main road was hard to miss. Nothing they threw at the war machine would stop it, though. Hera had not even felt the impact of the heavy artillery that had appeared in intervals, trying to block their way.

Had not felt it when the war machine trampled over the aircars and cannons.

Hells.

Take the next exit south,” Mantis said, his gaze still on the map.

“A lesser road might not take the weight of the machine,” Hera said automatically.

“Last intel we had before leaving Istros says two war machines are guarding the entrance to Dakru City,” Mantis said. “A lesser road might be just the thing we need.”

Hera frowned, having to admit that chancing the war machine sinking slightly into the road was not as bad as getting gunned down before even reaching the city.

“If the machines are still there...” Sacmis muttered as they took the exit and rolled down the southern road toward the mountains. “You know what it might mean.”

Yeah, Hera knew. It meant the distraction Elei, Kalaes and Alendra had prepared had not worked. She clenched her jaw.

Gultur would not have failed such a task, easy in comparison to taking out the machine from the ground and attacking the capital of the regime. But mere mortals had been set to the task and had predictably failed.

Hera raised a hand to her head, then waved the voice away as if it were an annoying insect.

Damn you, Regina. We did not set them an easy task. Anyone can fail when luck is not helping.

Dakru City glittered on their left like a lake of light, streetlights and reflectors, the moonstone used for the official buildings giving a soft white glow.

Beautiful. It was her city, by right, along with Bone Tower, the heart of Gultur power and culture. Mine.

Hera tightened her hold on the steering lever until she thought she might leave skin embedded in the grip. Interesting. Regina’s prodding was becoming more subtle, harder to detect.

But she had detected it and was not going to pay attention.

She wrenched her gaze off Dakru City and concentrated on the road with its faint demarcation lines and the dark hamlets they passed, followed by expanses of bushland and the occasional algae pond.

“I think I know how the rockets are launched,” Sacmis muttered, bent over a set of switches on the control panel. “Wicked.”

Mantis snorted.

“Can you hit the two war machines at the gates before they blow us up?” Hera eyed Sacmis, who hesitated. Soon they’d have to turn toward the capital. It was time to breach the city.

“If I hit the cockpits, perhaps. They seem to be vulnerable spots.”

“Then why has no-one shot our cockpit?” Mantis asked.

Hera, who was wondering the same thing, cocked a brow at Sacmis.

“I do not think their artillery can break this glass.” She shrugged. “But a shot from a war machine cannon might. These rockets are something else.”

“Have the cannons ready, then.” Hera decelerated and brought the war machine around. She set it toward the burning lights, building up speed. The glow of the city intensified as they approached, the defensive walls rising higher. “Let’s bring them down and take over.”

“Better hurry, then.” Mantis pointed, his face white. “I think they’ve spotted us.”

***

Elei walked a dark street, his feet so light he floated at times, hovering over the asphalt. Wisps of brilliance wound around his legs like creepers, blossoming on his thighs, kissing his skin like blades, cold and stinging.

Why was he there?

Gravity pulled him, and it tasted of sadness. He landed hard on the street, bones jarring, and he knew something was wrong.

He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know, so instead he stared at his fisted hands. If he didn’t look up, he wouldn’t be forced to find out, and he wanted the reprieve, for once.

But he couldn’t be other than what he was; couldn’t stop himself from choosing to know, so he looked.

Corpses laid out at his feet, dead eyes staring up at the sky. Alendra, Kalaes, Pelia, Jek, Afia, Dain, Zoe... Everyone he’d ever known.

Do something, a voice whispered in his ear. Do something or lose everything.

He gasped and struggled to wake as he was loaded like a sack on an aircar deck, rolling until he slammed into a wall. Pain flared, his eyes fluttered open — another jab of pain in his neck — and reality fragmented once more, disintegrating into blackness.

When he came around again, he lay on his side in a dark, dank space smelling of mold and water. He was alone — at least he was pretty sure he was, his pulse thundering so loud in his ears he wouldn’t have heard even a fleet of seleukids approach.

One thing he was certain of: the headache had quadrupled, at the very least. His pulse thudded as if someone was trying to kick out his skull with steel-toed boots.

And he had to be inside Bone Tower.

He tried to move and found he was handcuffed. His ankles shackled together, too. Pissing perfect.

He tested the manacles, but only half-heartedly. Maybe it was a good thing his hands were tied. He wouldn’t be able to tear off his head to end the maddening pain.

The clicking and humming filling his ears wasn’t helping. And a voice talking in a monotonous monologue.

Wait... He wasn’t alone? He stilled, drew a quiet breath.

Sweet scent.

Gultur.

He tried to roll over and his efforts ended in a strangled groan and a moment of white-hot pain. No, better not move. Gods, he felt as if a streetcar had rolled over him. Repeatedly.

Okay, think, dammit.

Or maybe listen.

“We have Rex. Yes, senet, the boy as well as the girl,” the woman was saying. An unfamiliar, bass voice. “We do not know where his other friends are.”

Was this one of Iset’s people? Had their mad plan worked? Had they taken over the temple of Bone Tower?

The humming of machinery, then the zip and crackle of static. A communicator. “Yes, we can display him, then broadcast the sacrifice. I’m certain that will shake the morale of those daring to attack the capital.” A pause. “Yes, he’s tied up and sedated. Everything’s under control. If we play this well, they’ll surrender, be forced to negotiate at the very least.”

The attack. Hera and Mantis were attacking Dakru City, and he was to be shown as a trophy, then killed. Iset and Bestret had failed. Bone Tower still stood and he was to be used against the resistance.

Though he was pretty sure Hera wouldn’t stop on his behalf. She’d do what was right. He could count on her.

Right?

He had to escape, before his capture ruined everything. Where was Alendra? How to get out of there?

His whole body vibrated. The headache spiked and he shut his eyes. Who had the key to his shackles? How to leave the room?

Rex sent pulses of pain in his possessed eye.

Get me out of here, buddy. Come on. Please.

When the world burst with burning colors, he welcomed it, embraced it. That’s it. He pulled on the shackles, and the chain binding them clinked. Pain flared down his shoulders, his bruised back. Help me out here.

But the bindings wouldn’t give, and he had to stop and grit his teeth. Think, dammit. The woman in the room wouldn’t have the keys. But maybe those who came to take him to Regina’s temple would. He had no idea how sacrifices were performed –he’d seen men getting shot in the back when he’d first arrived in Dakru, and he hoped it wouldn’t unfold that way.

“Holy Nunet,” another female voice said from behind, “is that a war machine?”

“It’s heading to Dakru City,” the other said in hushed tones. “Where did they get it? I thought HQ said the resistance consisted of unarmed street kids.”

Surprise, Elei thought and grinned.

***

There they were, as the intel had said, the two metal towers at the entrance of the city. No distraction, no decoy to keep the eyes off them.

Hera swallowed. Gods, had her friends been captured? Were they dead?

The war machines were moving to intercept them, giant metal cones. Lights played along their surface, and their cannons were emerging like a cat’s claws.

“This isn’t looking good,” Mantis whispered.

“Did you not say we’re the hope of the Seven Islands?” Sacmis was moving switches and fiddling with dials. “Was your faith in us so short-lived?”

“Not funny,” Mantis said. “Really, Sacmis.”

“No faith at all,” Sacmis said, sounding disgusted.

“Sacmis,” Hera hissed. “Stop talking and do it. You’re the best shot in the Seven Islands. Show them.”

“With pleasure.” Sacmis pulled two shiny black levers up and clasped them in her hands. “On your command.”

***

Breathing quietly where he lay tied up on the floor, each breath disturbing the dust by his cheek, Elei waited. Soon he caught a different scent: sharper, sweeter. Elite. An Echo princess, like Hera. He knew the elite Gultur was there before she walked through the door.

Three of them now. Time to strike.

Rex growled, raising his heartbeat, making his limbs tingle. Wait, he told himself. Wait. Find out more.

“War machine.” The Echo, Diona, grunted and tapped something on a keyboard. “How is that possible? Are you sure this is a live feed?”

“Yes, Commander. This one is being recorded by the cameras on the northern gate and retransmitted by the central in Dakru City.”

Elei wanted to see what was happening, but didn’t dare move; the last thing he wanted was another dose of sedative.

“The corrupted ones we apprehended claimed the leaders of the attack are friends with this prisoner here. The threat of executing him should stop them.”

Iset and Bestret. Caught. No nope of help from them, then. He was on his own.

“They say he’s Rex,” another said, her voice rising.

“Even better, though he looks like a scrawny child to me. Right now, immediate measures are necessary,” the Echo Commander said. “Commander Demeter, change to live transmission to the Regina temple and put it on the giga screens. We’ll initiate the sacrifice immediately.”

Immediate measures. That was all Elei heard. He let out a long, quiet breath and grinned savagely, Rex screeching inside his head. The Echo’s scent saturated everything, erasing every other smell, making his heart boom and his hands curl in their bonds.

Come to me.

Two sets of steps approached him — soft thumps of military boots on hard flooring — and the faint clinking of a thin chain reached his ears. The keys?

Rough hands grabbed and sat him upright. He let them, allowed them to pull him to his feet next, and a good thing as the sudden height sent black splotches to his vision and numbed his legs. A Gultur steadied him. His eyes had barely cleared when the Echo princess stepped in front of him.

Rex thumped the back of his eyeball, distorting the image, turning her oval face into a long muzzle. He’d expected it but still he recoiled, then strained toward her as Rex reacted.

Blood. He wanted to taste her blood, slash her throat and spill it on the floor, see her die.

She must have seen something in his face because she took a step back, mouth opening — all lost in a blaze of pulsing colors.

He jerked free and launched himself at the Echo, the chains of his manacles clanking. Shouldering into her, he threw her down and fell on top, driving the air from her lungs. He squirmed and twisted, thrusting his knees on either side of her head.

The sound of a bullet sliding into a chamber rang loud, and he threw himself sideways. The shot wasn’t as deafening as expected — a silencer? — but the bullet hit the Echo’s shoulder and she screamed.

The scream made his skin crawl. Gathering his limbs, he leaned over her, drew her longgun and cocked it; clicked on the silencer. “The keys, and your guns,” he snarled at their gaping faces — or as much as he could see of them through shadows and flaming colors. The Echo’s blood spilled on the floor, and red misted his vision.

He clenched his hands on the gun, hard enough to dent the metal, fighting the urge to hurt her more, to spill more blood.

Enough, Rex.

Though why he thought the parasite could be put back into a box now...

The two Gultur scowled but put down their longguns, then one of them unhooked the keys from her belt and threw them over. If she’d hoped for a moment of inattention, she was sorely mistaken; he grabbed the keys one-handed, Rex calculating the trajectory in silver in his tainted eye, and kept the gun trained on them.

They hadn’t tried the bargaining chip they had. It occurred to him these three didn’t know how important Alendra was to him. They couldn’t blackmail him.

The Echo clamped a hand to her shoulder wound. It didn’t look like she would bleed out, although Rex kept pushing him to hurt her more.

No. Leave her be.

He had some trouble inserting the key in his shackles, the key a pale blue object with no defined contours, but he managed to unlock his bonds, free his hands and feet, and lurch to his feet. He kicked the weapons away and motioned with the longgun toward a narrow metal door. “Carry her inside.”

They obeyed, and he imagined they scowled but couldn’t see anything but bright lights. He followed them. Through the door he saw a small bathroom. It would do.

“Where’s Alendra?” His hands shook and he gripped the gun until his knuckles hurt. “The blond girl who was with me.”

They didn’t answer and he advanced on them until he aimed down at the head of the Echo. His jaw wouldn’t unclench, so the words came out in a growl. “I’m not in a good mood. Tell me before I lose my patience.”

“The storeroom down the corridor,” the Gultur who’d been manning the monitors ground out. “After the turn. Three doors to the left.”

He hadn’t been lying about losing it — maybe not his patience, but his control over Rex. He pistol-whipped the Gultur, knocking her out cold. It was with an effort he pulled the gun back, clicked the safety on and turned away, Rex screeching in his ears to kill them then and there.

No.

He holstered the gun where his Rasmus used to be and collected handguns and longguns, knives and communicators. He tied the three women, gagged them, and closed the door behind him, a detached part of his mind observing how steady his hands were, despite feeling cramped from having been tied so long.

He stepped away from the door and found the monitors, which covered a wall from floor to ceiling. He tried to refocus on the surface of things.

Dakru City. He rubbed his tainted eye, blinked. A huge machine stood outside the wall, turning on huge wheels, tens of cannons rotating like the spines of a sea urchin. Taking aim.

To face two other war machines whose cannons were locked in place, aiming at the first.

Stalemate.

Oh gods.

Chapter Fifteen

“Incoming,” Mantis blurted, and Hera fought the instinctive urge to dive under the console.

The rockets hit a moment later. The impact rocked the tower and Hera fought the controls to keep it steady. Extra thrusters on the right side: check. Equalizers at maximum capacity: check.

“Lowering visor,” Sacmis said. “Ready in two.”

Hera jerked as a silver helmet descended from the ceiling, attached to wires and tubes. “Sobek.”

The helmet settled over Sacmis’ head, a visor falling in front of her face. Lights blinked on its dark crystal surface. Numbers and letters flickered.

“We’re moving too fast,” Mantis said, “she won’t hit the target.”

“Moving fast is the only reason we have not been killed yet,” Hera said through gritted teeth.

“But she can’t possibly aim and—”

“Do not worry. I’m not like you.” Sacmis’ body tensed; her fingers tightened on the levers. “I’m Regina’s child, and my mutation is that of a warrior.”

Hera grinned, wondering if Sacmis was making it up. It occurred to her she’d never asked Sacmis what her exact abilities were.

“Ready,” Sacmis said, as more numbers flittered on her visor, and pressed the buttons on top of the control sticks with her thumbs. “Here we go.”

The machine vibrated, then bucked as if it was coughing, and spat two rockets. The sound of the detonation came a split second later, as the rockets flew in individual arcs toward the approaching war machines.

Twin flashes blinded Hera for a moment. “Did they hit home?”

Mantis, who had pressed his face to the window panel, stepped back. “Yeah. The towers have stopped moving.”

“One of them has been heavily damaged,” Sacmis said, flicking switches and sending lights shimmering across the gauges. “The other less so. I missed its cockpit, dammit.”

“No matter,” Hera whispered, her heart hammering. “You got them both.”

The immobilized war machines glinted, lights blinking randomly on one of them in a garland of colors. A strange game of pawns, Hera thought as she drove toward the city, plowing between them; a surreal moment when their cockpits aligned and she saw figures moving inside the other machines.

“I’m going to crash through the gates,” she said. “Hold on tight.”

The immense outer gates gleamed, cast in solid steel carved with symbols, inlaid with faintly glowing moonstone, looming ever larger as they approached.

Hail, sisters. I hope you’re watching.

***

Elei stood before the wall of monitor screens. What to do now? Hera, Sacmis, Mantis. Kalaes. The kids of Teos. How could he save them? His eyes blurred.

One step at a time. Find Alendra. Go on from there.

He drew a deep breath, about to turn away, when he caught a glimpse of the temple of Bone Tower — white marble, pillars and statues, an altar with blazing torches. A direct feed, he realized, focused on the temple of Regina and other buildings Elei didn’t recognize.

Broadcasting directly to Dakru City, where the regime and the corrupt resistance council were probably biding their time, watching. Waiting for victory.

His hands clenched.

The temple, Iset had said. If you took out the temple, their symbol of power, they might fall.

Might.

Right.

What he should do was get Alendra out of there and run for their lives. The plan had been madness from the get-go and now it was falling apart. Had Mantis known the Gultur had war machines patrolling their capital? Did he have a back-up plan?

In the bunch of keys, he found the ones to the monitor room. Making sure the corridor outside was empty, he stepped out and locked the door, then drew the gun he’d taken and stumbled down the corridor. Rex kept sending jabs down his spine, insisting he go back, finish off the Gultur locked up in the bathroom.

No.

Besides. Not his war, not his battle. Rex, the New Gultur, everyone asking him to choose, to decide between... home and the world, friends and enemies, right from wrong...

Shit, he didn’t know what in the hells they expected him to do. Be what you are. Do what you think is right.

Yeah.

How far do you think you can run? Rex whispered. Do you really think you can outrun the regime?

His fingers tightened around the grip of the gun. Shut up.

The room where Alendra was kept would surely be guarded. He slowed to a stop where the corridor curved and took a deep breath. Sugar was in the air. Gultur waited around the corner.

Thudthudthud went his heartbeat, trying to bore like a drill through his ribcage. Colors, sparkles, and a familiar itching at his wrists and temples.

Scent change. To fool the guards, make them think he was one of them.

His lips pulled back in a snarl. Surprise, he thought, and brought the gun forward, holding it in both hands, as he stepped out into the open.

The guards posted on either side of the door wore no helmets or visors. He saw their eyes widen as they took in his appearance and the gun trained on them. They never stood a chance.

He fired, bringing them down, the silencer muffling the gunshots. Rex sent a thrill through his nerves, blew sighs and whispers in his mind.

Dammit. Stop. It’s not a pleasure.

He holstered the gun and strode to the door, lifted the bunch of keys and squinted at them. Rex was still humming through his senses, painting the world in colorful shifting panels. He groaned in frustration and tried closing his possessed eye, but Rex wasn’t having it and sent a jolt through him, almost knocking him down. He barely kept his feet.

Not funny.

He tried key after key in the lock, hoping the right one was somewhere in there. His hands shook.

When the lock snipped open, at first he thought he’d imagined it. Was he even opening the correct room?

“Elei?” Alendra’s soft voice. Her fresh scent washed over him.

“Ale?” His voice almost broke. He could hardly believe it when her arms wound around him, when he’d thought... when he’d feared...

He hid his face in her hair and struggled to control himself.

“Iset and Bestret,” Alendra said, muffled against his jacket. “We must find them.”

Find them? He blinked. “Why should I care about Iset and Bestret?” He closed his eyes. Oh right. She didn’t know how crazed they were; she’d been out cold. “We need to get out of here, fast.”

“We can’t leave them. They saved your life!”

Yeah. Right before they practically exchanged it for entry into the citadel.

They had saved his life, though. But they’d thought him immortal and themselves infallible. Such a human mistake.

Traitors, Rex hissed in his mind.

Believers in you, Elei thought. Damn complicated life.

But what if their crazy plans involved something useful? He should talk to them at least. They might know where to get an aircar and hightail it out of there.

“Do you know where they are?” he asked.

“Taken for interrogation to the Police station.”

Police station. He remembered glimpses of rooms and pillars and a red-headed woman. Blood. A hell of a lot of blood. The gun in his hand warm, his ears ringing from the shot.

“Elei.” Alendra shook him. “Come on.”

Alendra’s presence had relaxed Rex enough that he could see her wide eyes. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They crept out and the cloying scent assaulted him, stronger than ever. Gultur. Many of them, coming their way.

The respite was over.

He grabbed Alendra’s hand and ran, their boots thumping on the polished floor. If they got out of the building he could get his bearings. Though that was a long shot; he didn’t remembered much.

Better than staying for his own execution.

They raced through the building. He hesitated at a junction, randomly decided on a left turn and set off again. He wished he could see where they were going.

No such luck. Colors, colors everywhere. Blue metal doors, red flickering here and there as they pounded by, and the snick of pistols loading and voices rising in alarm.

Move.

Rex made it easy. Don’t think. Push Alendra into the wall, open a door as a shield as bullets snapped around them, shove off and ran down the corridor curve, slip into an open office as more bullets flew, clap a hand over a Gultur’s mouth as Rex screeched, then crouch low as she tried to bite off his fingers—

Alendra drew his gun and pistol-whipped the Gultur to unconsciousness. Elei blinked, letting the woman fall, letting Alendra pull him to his feet.

Ally, Rex whispered in his head.

No shit.

Then they were running along more winding corridors; a claustrophobic spiral, sucking them in. Sweat drenched him, his heart hammering faster and faster. Was there no damn way out?

Finally a door opened and they fell into the cold night. He stumbled to a stop, gasping in lungfuls of fresh air. Alendra turned to him, and her colors pulsed faintly, beautifully. She glowed like a sunset.

Rex hummed in approval. Accepting her. Accepting she was part of him.

He dredged his memories of that day, weeks ago, when he’d broken into Bone Tower and infected the water. He tugged Alendra to the left. Uniform white buildings with oval windows like dark mouths, trees.

A park — a memory of a girl combing her long hair — and up the slope, toward the temple. He stumbled, the images hitting him like blades — the carved facade of the temple urns, the reliefs of gods and demons and creatures of the deep, Kalaes shouting his name, the agony of bullets ripping through muscle and bone, the frigid kiss of the water—

“Come on, they’re right after us!” Alendra dragged him behind a wall, her terrified breaths washing against his neck as she huddled close.

He turned his head and saw the glowing shapes of Gultur rushing by, their shields and guns painted a faint blue by Rex. A patrol.

The police station loomed in the distance, a multistory building, narrower at the top. Somewhere behind it were the gates to the city, had to be, if his memories were anything to go by.

His hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping in his eyes. He pushed it back, shivering.

Maybe they should leave Iset and Bestret to their fates. Serve them right for delivering him like a rabid animal to be butchered.

Rex hummed, angry.

But they might be the only two people in the citadel who could help. A battle was raging in Dakru City. Hera, Sacmis and Mantis were out there, outnumbered and laying down their lives for peace.

Iset and Bestret had devised a plan. They’d brought explosives. They’d been damn wrong to deliver him to his executioners against his will, but their motivation had been sound.

Maybe fate had brought him back to the citadel. Maybe he could stop the fleet of Bone Tower and give Hera a chance at victory.

But how?

The patrol faded into the shadows of the park, the tall trees whispering in the chilly breeze, and Elei straightened, wincing, leg and back muscles protesting. He dragged Alendra to her feet and set off to follow, the houses on the right flickering with life forms, the tree branches with tiny lights — birds or insects. Running steps alerted him to another patrol just as the sweet scent hit, and they dived behind a fence laden with flowers, pinpricks of yellow luminescence.

The scent of fresh water drifted downhill from the temple urns, mingling with a thousand odors, above all the malevolent scent of Gultur elite.

His heart thudded faster. If Rex got crazy with one Echo around, now it was delirious — and angry. Kill them, it whispered. Kill them.

Alendra pulled on his arm and he followed her, his thoughts jumbled and shot through with Rex’s whispers. Rex swept the area again and again — living, organic, metal, nepheline — making him dizzy.

Throwing up now would suck, but with Rex messing with his head, blood loss, topped with lack of food and exhaustion, falling on his face in the street could become an embarrassing habit.

Right on cue, Rex screeched in his ears — killkillkill — and the scent grew stifling; too close, too many.

He grabbed Alendra around the waist and walked her backward behind the huge trunk of a tree. He put his hands on either side of her uptilted face, a glowing oval, and the bark was rough against his palms. He wished he could see her expression. Her mouth opened, to ask a question perhaps, and he placed a finger on her soft lips.

Another patrol thumped by, three Echoes leading them, marked by their distinctive gold-orange glow. They headed toward the temple.

A sacrifice. Regina’s festival.

Kill them all.

With a shake of his head he stepped back and Alendra pushed away from the tree trunk.

“Are they gone?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” Follow them, Rex purred. Find them and cut them down. “Dammit.”

“What is it?” Alendra took his hand, as if she knew he felt lost.

“Nothing.” He pointed at the tall building. “See the police station?”

She nodded and started walking. He let her lead him, focusing on her small hand in his, her scent, the pale mist of her hair, and with Rex jabbing at his nerves, pulling him toward the temple and death, he could only pray she wouldn’t let go.

***

Hera breathed in and out, trying for calm, but battle lust made her heart boom.

Aircars were approaching, trying in vain to stop them — tiny like children’s toys, easily shoved aside by the machine’s enormous wheels or crunched into pulp.

The steer kicked in Hera’s hands; she tightened her hold, steadied their course. “Strike the gates down, Sacmis,” she rasped, her throat dry.

“Ready to launch missiles,” Sacmis said.

This is it. Nunet help us.

The cockpit vibrated as the launchers rotated and locked onto their target.

Sacmis leaned forward, her face hidden behind her visor, information scrolling over the glass-like surface. “On the count of ten.”

Nine, eight, Hera counted under her breath as they rolled toward the shiny gates. Seven, six.

An impact rocked them.

Five, four.

Sacmis muttered something, muffled by the visor.

Two, one.

“Five hells,” Mantis whispered in the hush.

The launchers kicked and boomed. The missiles exploded against the gates, the blast deafening through the smashed windows.

But the gates held, the metal melting into distorted shapes. Holy Sobek. The enormous doors did not fall — but they swung inward. Just a crack, like a timid invitation.

“Going in.” Ears ringing, Hera drew a deep breath and pressed on the accelerator. Speed, max. Thrusters, max. Dakron combustion optimal.

The steer quivered in her hands. She let her breath out and sent the war machine rolling faster, on collision course. Mantis crouched between the seats, his dark eyes round. Sacmis held the armrests.

The metal panels of the gates rushed at them, smoking from the hits, looming larger and larger. A violent impact, a feeling of pressure, then release—

The machine lurched forward, jerking Hera in her seat, and the gates shuddered and swung wide, letting them through into the outer city.

Oh gods in the deep. They rolled among the white buildings, through the wide avenues, heading toward the wall of the inner city.

Hera’s pulse thudded. Was this really happening?

“Hera?” Mantis whispered, grabbing her shoulder. “We made it.”

She nodded, her throat tight, closing up. “We’re inside.”

Chapter Sixteen

Marble pillars.

Elei didn’t remember the grove of them at the entrance of the police station. When he’d stumbled out, he hadn’t paid much attention. Between the confused memories and Rex, it was surprising he didn’t crash into their polished surface now. But Alendra still held his hand, thank all the gods, steering him toward the tall doors.

No. He resisted her pull. Not that way. Memories replayed: he’d exited through a narrow metal door. Maybe that was why he remembered no pillars. A side door. Emergency exit, probably.

“What?” she muttered when he yanked her down the side of the building, between a smooth, tall wall and hedges where moths danced. “Where are we going?”

He wasn’t sure where he was going. Rex fuelled him, powered him, like a core to a machine. He knew when he saw it: a metal door.

Drawing Alendra back, he pressed his ear to it. Female voices, their cloying Gultur scent bleeding through the cracks, and a familiar tingling in his wrists and temples, telling him his scent was again shifting, sweetening. Making the Gultur think he was one of them.

Alendra moved toward him but he put a hand up to stop her. She was downwind, they wouldn’t smell her, but he was positioned so they’d smell him. He resisted the urge to scratch and rub at his itchy skin, waited.

Then he knocked.

Alendra gasped and took a step back as the door cracked open.

“At last. Come in, senet,” an irritated voice said. “Did you find the file we requested?”

Elei shoved his shoulder through, bursting inside, drawing the longgun from its holster. He fired, shooting for the legs — not the chest, not the head — no small feat with Rex screaming at him to kill them. Their shouts had to be stopped, so he knocked them out.

Only two of them.

“Elei?” Alendra stood at the opening, hesitant.

Ally, Rex whispered, helping us. Kill the others, erase this temple.

He thought he saw Poena, dark eyes peering around Alendra’s leg, and he choked on a breath.

“Hey.” Alendra shook him. When had she entered? It was as if he was skipping time. “We must find Iset and Bestret.”

Traitors, sick dogs that ought to be put down. His head pounded. He pressed a hand over his eyes, hissing quietly.

Shut up, Rex. Sisters, remember?

“How are we going to find them?” Alendra muttered.

Yeah, good point. He’d knocked the two Gultur out, so no way to ask. But there should be more where those two stinkers came from, and they’d get what they deserved. He’d cleanse the citadel, erase the contaminated temple and purify the world.

Why...? Those weren’t his thoughts. Damn you, Rex, I said shut up. Elei grimaced, trying to sort through what he knew and decide what to do.

Simple. Find another Gultur, threaten her until she told him where the two new Gultur were being kept.

And kill her.

No, Rex, no.

Killkillkill.

Pissing hells, he was going nuts. Wasn’t even sure which voice was his and which Rex’s. Or if he was talking to himself.

“Elei.” Alendra’s low voice came near his ear, making him jump. She held a longgun, nicked from one of the unconscious police. “Which way now?”

He opened a door into a huge hall with statues and square pillars. This was the place he remembered. Doors lined it and a portal opened somewhere on Elei’s left — presumably the way to Bone Tower.

They could head that way, hope it was right, steal an aircar and somehow make their way out of the citadel. Return to Artemisia, or go to another town altogether.

And Kalaes? Afia and Jek? Hera and Sacmis? Pelia’s sacrifice? Your promise?

His ears rang. Erase this temple. Finish what you started. You are what you are. Time to reign.

Dammit. Not so simple. He’d promised, yes. Had he sworn to die for it? The plan emerging in his mind was scaring the shit out of him.

There had to be another way.

Footsteps. The sound made him look up — and when had he become so absorbed in his thoughts that he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening?

Alendra raised her gun. “Stop,” she said and proceeded to press the gun to the Gultur’s cheek. “Where are Iset and Bestret? The prisoners you took?”

Closing his gaping mouth, Elei drew his gun too, and took aim. Would the Gultur know what they were talking about? He opened his mouth to tell her they were the ones who’d brought Rex to them.

But there was no need. The Gultur directed them in a shaky voice to a room behind a statue of Oceanus, dolphins jumping around him — at least that much Elei guessed from the vague blue shapes Rex showed him.

“Keys,” Alendra said and took something glowing blue — metal — from the Gultur’s hand.

His hearing was going, with Rex droning inside his head. Desecrate their temple, it hissed. Bring it down, burn it, erase it. Kill them all.

Alendra dragged the Gultur with them and he tried to help but jerked back: Poena giggled, peeking from behind the statue, and although all he could see were colors, he knew her small face, her uneven teeth, her large eyes.

“Go get them, Elei,” Poena whispered and the sound echoed inside his skull. “Finish what you started.”

What he’d started?

Shaking his head to stop the whispers, he backed away, and Poena walked toward him, small hands on her hips, her stained yellow dress sparkling.

“Elei?” Alendra came back to him. “What is it?”

Poena put her hand on his arm. “You know you have to do it. You’re here. You came back after all.”

“Leave,” he said and swatted at her, “leave me alone.”

“Hells, Elei.” Alendra released his arm. “I was only trying to help.”

“Not you.” Please, not you.

But she drew away. “Then who?”

When he didn’t reply, Alendra turned around, pressed her gun to the Gultur’s side and marched her toward the indicated door.

He lurched after her. Kill them, Rex keened. Erase this temple of pestilence and madness. Tear it to the ground.

He hissed and stumbled. Madness? Yeah, he was going mad.

“Just raze it to the ground,” Poena said, smiling sweetly. She’d caught up with him again. “You need explosives.”

“I don’t have any.” He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, Alendra’s body heat a bright beacon.

“But they do.” She pointed at the door Alendra was unlocking, the Gultur still held by her side. “They brought bombs, to take down the temple. They have explosives in their aircar. The two of them failed in their mission. You won’t.”

“And how do you know this?” Oh right, because he’d known it, and Poena had access to his deepest pit of memories. “I can’t.” Can’t die for your purpose, for Rex’s purpose.

“You made a promise to the children of Teos. The children of the Seven Worlds. You can’t just back out now.”

“I never signed up for this.” Had he? “Leave me alone.”

Poena only grinned and shook her blond head, which barely reached his waist. For one damn scary moment her face was that of Alendra and he barely contained a gasp.

Dammit, Rex.

Keeping his eyes ahead, trying to ignore her diminutive presence, he hurried across the hall. He’d let Alendra do all the work. He was a burden, jeopardizing her life for whispers inside his head.

Stupid. Dangerous.

“You can’t wish me away,” Poena chirped and he almost stumbled into a pillar. “Finish what you started, Elei.”

Shit. He jogged past Oceanus’ statue, his heart booming, and entered the room. Two orange-yellow shapes sat on the floor at the far wall. Alendra was unshackling them. The Gultur she’d brought along was fumbling at her waist where a longgun hung, its handle glowing blue.

“Don’t even think about it,” he ground out, drawing his own gun and walking closer. “Move back.”

Kill her, Rex hissed, making his muscles tense, his hands tremble. Pull the trigger.

He groaned, his trigger finger shaking. No. Pissing gods, Rex, leave me in peace.

Kill her. Kill them. Erase this temple—

—of pestilence, yeah, I know. Raze it to the ground. He blinked sweat out of his eyes, the gun wavering. Can’t. Won’t. I’m leaving. Got to find Kalaes, make sure he’s okay.

Elei, Rex whispered, voice silky like a caress, and it was the first time Rex had spoken his name.

He shuddered, his stomach churning. Get out of my head.

You can’t escape your fate, Elei. You started this. You can’t outrun the regime. You have to—

“—Finish this,” Poena said, standing in front of his gun, the muzzle pressed to her smooth brow. “I’ve told you this before. You’re the King. What will you do now?”

But he’d done what she’d asked, spilled his blood, infected the Gultur.

“Finish what you started,” she pressed forward, the gun cutting into her flesh, “or fail the world.”

***

Hera was driving through the rubble of the outer city ring, keeping an eye on the war machine lumbering after them. Since the first war tower had been put out of commission with their rockets, the other seemed determined to stop them entering the inner ring of Dakru City.

Meanwhile, the inner city was bringing out its own cannons, and although they were not of war machine caliber, Hera was certain they’d cause damage.

No distraction to keep the eyes of the capital away from them. Damn. The plan had gone to the hells. She could see the realization in Mantis’ eyes, although he covered it with a scowl. Sacmis’ gaze was hidden behind the visor.

Hera had no doubt Sacmis was ready to die for this cause. Had been for years now.

And what about the others? Had they already sacrificed their lives?

Helicopters circled, gleaming in the searchlights of the city wall’s watchtowers.

Like a show, Hera thought. Like a goddamn show.

She jerked the steering lever, sending the war machine into a slow turn to avoid a missile, giving Sacmis the chance to retaliate.

Military aircars — Silver Bullets — were lining up at the inner city gate with their guns ready.

Sacmis positioned the cannons, took aim. The rockets blasted out and hit with unerring precision. The vehicles exploded, a ball of flame and smoke rising in the night.

Not enough.

“Seleukids. And drones. Incoming.” Mantis’ breathless voice penetrated the battle fog like a light through murky water.

“Shit.”

“I got them,” Sacmis said.

But the seleukids were damn fast, the drones even faster, and how many could you blast away before new ones came? A whole freaking fleet.

Again.

Please, Hera prayed, please Elei. You have to be okay, you have to get them off our backs.

“Communication alert,” Sacmis muttered, and Mantis leaned next to her to fling the switch on.

“Surrender,” a harsh female voice said. “You are surrounded and alone. Stop the war machine and come out now.”

“Damn them,” Hera muttered. “We’re not stopping.”

“Of course not,” Mantis said.

“Your friends have been captured,” the voice went on. “Elei Rex has been taken to Bone Tower. Kalaes Ster has been killed.”

Hera stilled. A hush fell inside her head. The words made no sense. This could not be real.

Sacmis was saying something. Hera could not hear her. This was not happening. No.

“They’re lying,” Mantis whispered. “They’re pissing liars.”

“The only way this plan would have worked, the only chance we had was if the others managed to draw the regime’s attention,” Sacmis said. “We were supposed to sneak onto Dakru City and take it by surprise. We cannot fight the whole fleet.”

“Unless I see a picture of Elei taken and Kalaes dead, I won’t believe it,” Mantis said through gritted teeth. “And what about Alendra?”

“Look at the giga screens,” Sacmis breathed.

Hera managed to wrench her gaze off the controls to do as Sacmis said. Enormous screens mounted on the inner wall were coming to life, showing Elei — unconscious, curled on the floor, bound. Another image, this time of Alendra, in a similar state. Then the temple of Bone Tower, the fleet stationed on its vast roof.

Hera’s stomach cramped. Sourness rose in her throat. Gods.

“Bone Tower’s fleet is ready to launch,” the grating voice from the speakers continued. “Be warned that no mercy will be shown unless you stop now.”

Mantis cocked his gun, as if about to shoot the giant screens, his face twisted with fury. “Damn them.”

“Turn it off,” Sacmis snapped.

“Sacmis...”

Sacmis leaned forward and flicked the switch off.

The silence was deafening.

“Two fleets, Sacmis,” Mantis said, his voice tight. “The Attalid fleet is coming. No way can we make it.”

“Keep your eye on the gates,” Sacmis bit out, then grabbed Hera’s shoulder and shook her. “Hey.”

Hera blinked. Shit. With trembling hands, she gripped the lever and checked the thrusters. “Maybe if we just roll into the city...”

Would it matter? With Kalaes dead, and Elei and Ale soon to die?

“Snap out of it, senet,” Sacmis said. “You cannot let this break you. It’s a war. We may yet all die.”

Hera was not sure she cared.

“We can take them down,” Sacmis whispered.

“Sacmis?” Mantis’ voice was strained.

“Two fleets,” Sacmis said. “It makes you wonder why they think they need another fleet to bring us down...”

Hera sent Sacmis a sidelong glance. “What’s on your mind?”

“They must think we can defeat this fleet. Which is why they are waiting for reinforcements from Bone Tower.”

“How in the hells can we defeat a fleet?” Hera’s voice rose in panic and she pressed her lips together, swallowed. “How?”

“Working on it.” Sacmis’ fingers flew about the controls. “There must be a weapon here we do not know about. But they do.”

“If such a weapon is available, why would they not use it on us?”

“I do not know,” Sacmis muttered, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. “Perhaps they’ve never used it. Perhaps the need has never arisen before.”

“Better find this weapon quickly. If it exists.” Hera drove toward the gates once more, but the other war machine moved in their way, blocking them, making them easy fodder for the seleukids.

The ground exploded, making her jerk. The drones were dropping missiles. “Sacmis...”

“Give me a minute.” Sacmis was examining the controls.

“We do not have a minute!”

A missile hit them as she spun the machine around, jerking them. Another hit them from behind, so they lurched forward. How long until real damage was done and they were immobilized?

“Got it,” Sacmis crowed and touched something on the silver helmet she wore. Green lights flickered on her visor, and a new console rose from the panel, with handles that were replicas of guns.

At least Hera thought they were replicas. “What are you going to—?”

“Swing the machine around, Hera.” Sacmis closed her hands around the handles and poised her forefingers over the triggers.

Gods. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Hera swung the machine around, toward the swarming fleet.

“Trust me,” Sacmis said.

And began to fire.

Her hands worked the replicas, but the cannons mimicked her actions outside, throwing what looked like grenades at the seleukids.

And the drones exploded, one by one.

A rain of fire and black smoke.

A rain of death.

Hera gaped at the destruction, letting the machine roll to a stop. What in the hells was this weapon?

“We’ll get them all!” Mantis splayed his hand on the window pane, his pale hair hiding his eyes. “Holy pissing hells.”

Seleukids joined the drones, falling, crashing, more and more of them, shot like birds out of the sky. Fragments fell around their moving tower, flaming and twisting with heat.

Death...

Then Sacmis cursed, and the flaming rain stopped.

“What?” Hera glanced from the clearing sky to her and back, where more seleukids were appearing. “What happened?”

“Weapon jammed.” Sacmis slammed her fist on the armrest. “I got most of them, though. Maybe we can shoot these ones down the traditional way.”

Hera nodded, her heart hammering. “Right. Cannons?”

Sacmis sighed and grabbed another set of controls. “Yes, senet.”

***

“Lean on me,” Elei said to Iset, trying not to think too hard about what they’d done to him. “Can you stand?”

Iset nodded and used his hand as leverage to stand. “It was for nothing,” she said. “All this... coming here, giving you up, it was for nothing.” Her mouth tightened as he pulled her to her feet. “Forgive us. I thought we’d prevail and take you back.”

He gripped her arm so hard she tried to pull it back. With Rex wailing inside his mind to kill her, his control was waning.

“Do you know your way around Bone Tower?” he snapped. “We need to find your aircar.”

“I know the way.” Iset pushed off him and tore the visor off the other Gultur, placing it over her face. “Follow me.”

Bestret found a roll of sticky tape on a desk and gagged the police officer who was glaring daggers. “Ready to go.”

Killkillkill, Rex boomed inside Elei’s head, moving his hand toward his gun. Kill them now.

Shut up. Elei balled his hands into fists and pressed them at his sides. I don’t have to listen to you.

“Take out the temple,” Poena said cheerfully, hopping to keep up with him. “It’s their symbol, and they’re waiting to sacrifice you, waiting for you. You can get right inside.”

“And what good will that do?” he spat the words and that earned him a curious look from Bestret.

“Give us your guns,” Iset said. “We need to cross the hall and the yards. I suggest we pretend you’re our prisoners.”

“No way,” he said at the same time Alendra said, “Okay.”

She cast him a look. “Why not?”

He shook his head. “Fine.” He drew his gun and gave it butt-first to Iset. “But no games, or things will get ugly.” As if they’d ever been pretty.

“Games?” Alendra echoed, clearly lost, and he wanted to explain but now was not the time.

“After you,” Bestret said, and it took all Elei had not to punch her.

Deep breaths.

He turned around and Iset prodded him lightly in the back with the longgun. He reminded himself that no, it was not all right to kill her, no matter what Rex yelled in his ear, and let her guide him toward the tall gates, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Bestret and Alendra were following.

Other Gultur crossed their path, turning their heads but not stopping. One was an Echo and he had to close his eyes for a moment to control his body before he leaped at her and cut her down.

“What will you do, my King?” Poena tugged on his pant leg and he wanted to scream at her to let go. “As before, I’ll guide you to your task.”

“Don’t,” he mumbled, his eyes stinging. “No.” Because the last time she’d done it, right there in Bone Tower, he’d almost died.

He wanted to live. He wanted to kiss Alendra again, go with Kalaes for drinks, have a job and live... a life. A quiet and peaceful one.

The metal gates opened outward into a yard lit by strong spotlights. Aircars were parked at regular intervals and Iset pushed him toward the other end. The last vehicle in the line.

“Senet.” A Gultur nodded in their direction, pushing up her visor as she headed toward the police station, and raised a hand in a fist. “Em hotep.”

“Em hotep.” Iset returned the greeting, not breaking stride, so that the gun poked firmly in his bruised ribs and sent a mist of red before his eyes.

Killkillkill. His elbow was already moving back, aiming at Iset’s plexus, when she stepped around him and tugged on the ladder attached to the aircar.

“Let’s get inside,” she said and Elei blinked, Rex stuttering, caught by surprise by the fact that Iset wasn’t trying to kill him.

Grabbing the ladder, he climbed up to the deck, twisting around as soon as his feet hit the floor, but Iset only stood by his side and bent to check the door lock. It hissed open.

Elei watched her enter, waited until Alendra and Bestret came up and entered too.

“Elei?” Alendra gestured for him to join them.

“What will you do, King?” Poena whispered, crouched by his booted feet. “You are who you are. You can only be who you are meant to be.”

More riddles. He stepped inside, conscious someone might be watching, but stayed by the door.

Erase the temple, Rex whispered and Poena spoke the same words, an echo. His head throbbed. Blow it up, let the world see. If anyone can do this, you can. You promised. You began this. Fail us now and fail the whole world. Can you live with that?

“Oh Nunet.” Bestret opened the driver’s door and sat, searching for the ignition key. “They told us the attack on Dakru City is doomed. They said help will come from Bone Tower — helicopters with cannons and Attalids. They announced on every open channel that they have you and will sacrifice you.” She bowed her dark head. “We have failed.”

“You haven’t,” he heard himself say. “Not yet,” and Poena nodded thoughtfully, pressed to his leg, a thumb stuck in her mouth.

“What do you mean?” Iset sounded annoyed. “The attack is doomed to fail. We have not been able to create the distraction we’d planned.”

I don’t want to do it, dammit, I don’t want to.

“Do you have the explosives?” His mouth seemed to be working without his will, and yet... My promise. My responsibility. Could have been anyone’s — but it’s mine.

“Yes,” Iset said. “Why?”

“I need them.”

“Elei?” Alendra said, her voice hoarse, and she came to stand right before him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Ally, Rex whispered and he wanted to hug her close.

Not now.

“Come,” Iset said and started toward the back of the aircar. She opened a compartment built behind the seats and dragged a backpack out. Shoved it toward him. “What are you thinking?”

He opened the bag, glanced at the power packed inside, closed it again. Hefted it over one shoulder. “Drive away. Get Alendra out of here, find Kalaes and the kids, and go as far as possible. I’ll do this.”

“Do what?” Alendra muttered behind him, sounding horrified.

“Just be safe,” he said. “Find Kalaes. Go home.”

It hurt, but Rex hummed happily, lessening the pain.

“You can’t,” Alendra said, her voice rising. “I won’t let you, you can’t do this!”

Bestret dragged her into the cabin and dumped her in a seat. “He can. He’s Rex. If anyone can, it’s him.”

“He’s Elei, he’s just a boy, you can’t expect—”

“I have to go,” he said, regretting he hadn’t had the chance to kiss Alendra again.

“Don’t do it, Elei.” Alendra struggled in Bestret’s grip. Bestret held her down, but Alendra twisted until her hand was free and she reached out to him. “Ignore what they’ve told you. Dammit, Elei, don’t do it. Come with me.”

“I have to take down the temple,” he said, Poena grinning up at him. “It’s the only way to turn the odds.” His eyes stung, because, dammit, he didn’t want to do this, but he bit his lip and turned slowly toward the aircar door.

“I swear by the gods,” Alendra said, still struggling, “if you die, I’ll find you and haunt you for all eternity.”

“You’ll have to stand in line.” So many ghosts. He sighed as he stepped outside and grabbed the ladder, lowering himself onto the first rung. Many dead and undead haunted him already. “But I hope you’ll stay alive,” he whispered, so low it might have been in his mind.

Chapter Seventeen

“They’re waiting for you at the temple,” Poena said, chewing on a strand of blond hair. “Waiting for the ceremonial guards to deliver you to their altar.”

Elei nodded. The sacrifice. To be transmitted directly to the giant screens in Dakru City.

They’d get a sacrifice worth their wait.

Hidden in the shadow of the aircar, he crouched low while a group of five Gultur passed by and vanished inside the building. Crossing the police station would be impossible without killing everyone inside. He’d have to make his way around.

Kill them all, Rex hissed.

Yeah, yeah.

Damn, he’d never make it to the temple in one piece in this mayhem. He had to move silently, like a ghost.

“I’m the ghost,” Poena whispered in his ear. “Not you.”

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Rex swept the yard — red, yellow, green, blue. Ah there. The fence had an opening. A gate, most likely, and right now it stood wide open.

How long before the Gultur guards realized their prisoners were gone and the monitoring room empty? They probably knew it already.

“Hurry,” Poena said and he rose, lifting the backpack.

He’d have to go prepared.

Opening the bag, he pulled out a few tubes of explosive. Eyed them, then set to strapping them around his middle, stuffing some in his pockets. It’d have to do. He let his t-shirt and jacket drape over them.

Good to go.

He wiped his sweat-slicked palms on his pants and glanced around the vehicle he hid behind.

Clear.

Crouching low, he ran between aircars, using them as cover, the explosives weighing him down. He pulled the straps of the backpack over his shoulders and peered at the open gate.

A Gultur was waving someone out of the yard — a long, sleek military aircar. It hovered next to the police station, an amalgam of cool greens and bright, pulsing red and orange. The engines, hot and humming.

He crept around another aircar and sprinted until he was behind the waiting vehicle. The nepheline air-cushion was at shoulder height. He pulled himself onto it, arms straining, the explosives digging in, and he hoped they wouldn’t go off with the pressure.

Dragging himself up, he crouched next to the engine, between the huge twin fans, and waited. Poena stood by his side, the currents blowing through her, her golden locks still and perfect on her small shoulders. She winked.

It occurred to him he was now officially mad, and snorted. Inevitable. Bound to happen sooner or later.

Full circle.

Let Alendra and Kalaes be okay, let Hera and Sacmis escape. Let them survive the regime.

The aircar lurched forward and he grabbed the edge of the fan not to fall off. They passed through the gate, two Gultur waving them on, and hovered for a moment as it clanked shut behind them, then moved along an avenue lined with trees and tall buildings, their moonstone facades glowing.

Midnight had passed. He wondered what was happening in Dakru City.

The park loomed on one side, and taking a deep breath, he jumped off. He rolled on the asphalt, his side and shoulder hot blazes of pain.

Get up.

Checking the explosives were still strapped on, weighing his belt, he shouldered the backpack and staggered to the cover of the trees.

The temple glimmered on the top of the hill. Three enormous rectangular objects had been placed in front of the giant urns, supported on metallic arms.

“Screens,” Poena said. “Feedback loop. They’re transmitting to Dakru City, and Dakru City is broadcasting the battle.”

“And how would you know?” Elei muttered irritably, tugging on the straps of the pack that bit into his chest. The avenue was empty, the sky endless. He could drown in its darkness.

She shrugged, skipping ahead. “It’s your guess.”

The steep road to the temple should have been familiar but that stretch was the blackest hole in his memories. He vaguely recalled Kalaes calling his name, the scent of flowers on the air. And the carved pool with the temple rising overhead, like a full moon.

It had been weeks ago. It felt like yesterday.

Poena turned and waited, hands on hips, blond head tilted. She looked like a miniature Alendra and his chest constricted. Alendra would hate him for this, he knew, but at least she’d live, and if all went well — that made him chuckle, because, yeah, ‘well’ for who? — then she’d live in a world with less violence and more beauty.

Clenching his jaw, he patted the explosives strapped to his waist and stood still at the foot of the hill.

“Let’s do this,” he said. “Ready?”

“When you are,” Poena whispered and started up the road, her yellow dress fluttering.

***

A Seleukid swooped down like a hawk, releasing a missile, and an explosion rocked the war machine.

“Damn them,” Hera muttered, fighting to stabilize the metal tower they currently inhabited. Between the rockets from the other war machine, the fleet and the artillery parked at the gates, they would not last much longer, even if the Bone Tower fleet did not arrive.

Give up. Let go.

No.

Elei and Alendra were not dead yet. The kids of Teos. The kids of the whole world. They depended on her. Kalaes was gone, and the thought twisted her heart, but she would not let his death be for nothing.

The giant screens flickered at the edge of her vision. A commentator appeared, calmly describing what was happening, talking with someone.

As the battle raged.

They had no fear of this one little war machine, Hera thought, trampling an aircar and turning the tower around so Sacmis could take a shot at the remaining Seleukids. They did not care how many of their own died; they had no doubt about the outcome.

But she would not stop. For Elei. For Alendra. She had to get them back. She had no idea how, but she’d find a way.

Gods help her, she’d get them back.

***

A booming noise came from speakers alongside the giant screens, the sound traveling down to the steep trail Elei followed — voices, shouts, and what sounded like cannons firing, rockets hitting and crashing into buildings.

War.

Blood.

Killing.

Poena walked with him, muttering.

His boots thumped dully on the paved road, sending shocks up his aching side and back. The stitches pulled. Circling back to where he’d started, with the ghost of a dead girl guiding him. Which meant this might be a dream, but then he wouldn’t hurt so much, would he?

Poena hummed a tune under her breath, small fingers tap-tapping on the air. She glanced sideways at him and lifted her chin. “Almost there.”

Almost to the other side of sanity. “Right.”

He checked the ignition hooks on the tubes around his waist. Just one hard pull and he’d go up like a flare. Wincing at the thought, he pulled the hem of his t-shirt back down and kept climbing the hill.

Water trickled by the side of the road, over cool stone and into the roots of trees. A fresh mist rose in the night air, the scent reminding him of Alendra.

The pang of regret in his chest rivaled the pain in his side.

A patrol was coming down the street from the temple. He’d barely caught the flash of gold on their chests when he scooted behind a hedge and waited, heart in mouth, until they thumped by, descended the hill and vanishing among the buildings of the citadel.

Elei rose unsteadily, the explosives heavier by the minute.

Poena peeked from behind a tree and winked. “This way. We’ll go in from the back.” She rolled her eyes when he didn’t move immediately.

“Good idea,” he whispered, feeling a thousand years old as he dragged his feet once more up the slope. “On my way.”

The trail wound alongside the road, among bushes and slender trees. Night birds trilled, insects buzzed, a distant chant sounded, and all the while a wind of knives poured like a river downhill, stinging his cheeks and hands, blurring his eyes.

Through the trees he could see the temple on the summit of the hill. Spotlights lit its outer walls, reflecting off the white marble of the sculpted urns and the statues, the pillars that seemed to blossom at the top, where they sustained the sloped roof. Deep gold shone — tall silhouettes moving toward the steps that ran between the marble pools.

How would he get past the temple guards? He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He stumbled over a stone in the shadows, jostling his backpack and its unstable cargo. His knees buckled, dragging him down.

Shhh, Rex breathed. Not far now.

Funny that the parasite didn’t seem to mind he was set on getting himself killed. Wasn’t it going to try and stop him?

Had he secretly hoped it would?

Elei shook his head. Was he not only mad, but a coward, as well? Dammit.

He straightened, gritting his teeth. Almost there. He dragged his feet up the trail, higher and higher. Poena skipped from tree to tree, giggling. The leaves rustled overhead, and when he looked up, their silvery shapes danced against the night sky like clouds of insects.

Keep moving.

The guards came into view, posted at the temple steps. They were wore long flowing mantles and their helmets were mounted with feathers or wings, hard to tell when Rex only showed him pulsing outlines.

Poena hooked her finger, glancing over her bony little shoulder, hurrying away from the grand staircase, moving with a purpose. What could he do but hurry after her slender form, her fluttering yellow dress and dark hair, the scrunching of dead leaves underfoot and his harsh panting the only sounds.

When he broke out from the cover of the trees, he realized he was almost at the back of the temple. Above him rose the great urns, and a staircase led up, winding between the enormous vats, much narrower and steeper than the main entrance to the temple.

Perfect.

He started up, aware the patrol might pass any second on their rounds. He used the smooth marble rim of the urns for support, leaving smears of blood. Damn, he’d busted the stitches on his arm.

The scent of the water wafted over him as he climbed. He glanced over the side. Yellow blobs of warmth floated on the calm surface. The scent told him it was flowers. In the water lived Regina, the parasite that made the Gultur race.

We meet again.

The steps ended and a platform opened before him. He stopped to catch his breath. Among the blossoming pillars and statues, female forms moved. Gultur, some of them Echoes. Their scent wound around him, inside him, raising his pulse until it roared in his ears.

“To the altar,” Poena whispered. Odd how he could still hear her when all other sound had faded.

The altar. At the center of the platform stood a stone table with a fire burning, flanked by two Gultur holding lit torches.

The sound of shouts and gunshots came from the speakers, and he twisted to look at the three screens bordering the temple. Mounted on fifteen feet high metal pedestals, the monstrous monitors showed a view of Dakru City. Rubble, fires, thick smoke rising. A war machine rolling on a street, a metal tower studded with cannons, firing.

“The rebel forces have managed to breach the city wall,” the voice of a presenter said, neutral and pleasantly deep for a woman. “However, Bone Tower is sending the sacred fleet of the temple to assist us. A war machine cannot prevail against the famed Attalids, the anointed air force of the citadel, which you can see above the temple, ready for take off.”

Attalids. Belonging to the temple of Regina, which was right there, under his feet. Unique airplanes — deadly, sacred and anointed.

Wait a minute... Above the temple?

He looked up and hissed a curse. What he’d taken for statues and gargoyles on the roof were planes. Their front was carved into the shape of sharp-fanged beasts with crests and their wings seemed to be made of bone and cartilage with membranes stretched between them. They even had tails — long and barbed.

They looked alive. Did that tail move?

No, dammit. Breathe. He bent his pounding head and sucked a hitching breath. Damn you, Rex, are you the one doing this?

When he looked up again, the beast-like planes were still, lights flickering along their sides.

Okay, that was... good. The temple and the planes. Two with one stroke. Three, rather, including him.

Better not think about that.

“We await the Attalids,” the presenter said, her voice lilting, making it sound like a question.

On the platform a woman stepped forward and raised her hands. Her long pale hair whipped in the wind. “First we shall perform the sacrifice. Kill Rex for all rebels to see how they’ll be brought down.”

“When?” The presenter didn’t sound pleased. “You can see the battle is raging.”

“The boy should be on his way to the temple as we speak.”

That sounded like his cue. Licking his dry lips, he straightened and stepped out of the shadow of the staircase, onto the stone platform.

Heads turned toward him and the Gultur scent rose, suffocating, wrapping around his neck, cutting off his air.

Poena tugged on his hand. “Come, Elei. It’s time.”

“Here he comes,” a tall Gultur, one hand raised toward him. “Where are his guards?”

“Just take him to the altar.” The priestess sniffed. “This will not take long.”

You bet it won’t. He stalked toward her, the bag thumping against his back, the pain in his side gone in a wash of adrenaline that made his heart thump in his chest. Gazes streaked over him, glancing off like blades on snakeskin armor.

“It’s just a boy,” the presenter said, her tone dismissive.

You’ve never seen anything like me, he thought as he reached the altar and put down his bag. Not a child and not a man, an orphan but with the best family ever, not a King and not a slave, not sick or healthy, not alone and yet...

And yet. Here to blow your mind.

He snorted. Struggled not to laugh out loud.

Mad.

“Prepare him.”

“Oh no need,” Elei said, shrugging off his jacket. “I’ve come prepared.” He pulled the t-shirt over his head and let it fall.

“What is...?” The presenter’s voice rose to a shriek. “Are those explosives? Oh goddess!”

“You move, I blow us up,” he said and hooked his thumbs in the safety hooks. He turned in a circle until they backed away. “Good. Now.” He knelt by the bag and pulled out the bunches of explosive tubes, piling them on the floor.

“You will not escape with—”

“Shut up,” he said conversationally. “Or my finger might slip on the safety.”

“You can push it back in, you have a few seconds before—”

“Silence.”

And quiet spread as if by magic, the only sounds the fire crackling on the table and the hems of long dresses whisking the floor.

He looked up at the screen. He should be seeing the presenter, or Dakru City, but the screen was a flat red surface. His pulse boomed in his ears like waves in deep caves, and his hands shook.

He’d die only seeing what Rex chose to show him. Maybe it was for the best.

“Are you Rex?” the presenter asked, her voice shaky.

“I said my name isn’t Rex.” He placed his hands over the explosives. “It’s Elei. Elei Ster.”

Pulling the explosives from his pockets and waistband, he laid them on the floor and untied the others from around his waist. Using the twine, he strung them together through the hooks in two groups.

The priestess shouted, “Don’t—”

He pulled. Grabbed one bunch of strung-together explosives and threw them onto the roof, at the Attalids.

A few seconds, the presenter had said.

I want to live.

Lurching to his feet, he sprinted across the stone platform to the edge and plunged down toward the marble urn.

So far down. He fell and fell along the gleaming smooth marble wall, the air rushing in his ears.

Except I can’t swim, he thought as the tumbled and twisted in the air. I can’t—

He struck the frigid water — pain, pain — and sank deep.

The world overhead detonated, booming into the water. A shock wave hit his back like a fist, sending bursts of light behind his eyelids. His head slammed into a wall.

Blessed blackness came.

Chapter Eighteen

“We’ll retreat,” Hera said. “Leave and rescue Elei and Ale.”

“They won’t let us retreat,” Mantis said. “They’re surrounding us.”

“Then we’ll crush them.” With a savage snarl, she turned the tower around once more, prepared to roll over the encroaching aircars. A drum beat inside her head.

A familiar face appeared on the giant screens. Hera’s hand automatically tugged the accelerator down, slowing.

Elei. He was kneeling on the floor of Regina’s temple, but did not look like someone about to be executed. His face was full of determination. “What is he...?”

Fire and rubble exploded onscreen. Bodies flew. Blood sprayed the cameras.

Hera gasped.

“Holy shit,” Mantis muttered, clambering to his feet. “Did you see that?”

“He blew up the temple,” Sacmis said, her voice wavering.

Fire. The screens were full of fire. A buzz filled Hera’s ears, a dull roar, as if a gale buffeted her but she could not feel it.

Elei. He was dead.

“Oh gods, he destroyed the Bone Tower fleet,” Mantis whispered. “The Attalids are gone.”

Gone. Elei was gone, too. Hera felt strangely detached and empty. Had Alendra also been caught in the blast?

Smoke billowed on the screens, and rubble kept falling. The images blurred and Hera had to close her stinging eyes. Was her entire family dead?

Devastation. Darkness. Her chest ached.

Stupid mortals, you do not need them, the voice in her head whispered, you do not—

Hera scrunched her eyes closed. Shut up. It’s time for the gods to listen. I cannot do this anymore. Give me a miracle.

“Hera.” Sacmis grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Hera!”

“I cannot,” Hera murmured, struggling to draw air. She opened her eyes. “I cannot continue.”

“Yes, you can. You can and you will. We depend on you.” Sacmis still wore the damn visor, the damn helmet, and they sat inside the damn machine that had not brought them victory, even though they’d sacrificed their friends for it.

Useless. A waste. A damn waste.

“Move over,” Mantis said. “Hera, let me drive.”

She let him pull her to her feet and slumped behind the chairs, her head in her hands, not sure how to climb out of this new version of the netherhells.

Not sure she could.

***

“The temple is gone,” Poena said, standing on the smoking ruins. “Erased.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Elei frowned. Smoke billowed around him, thick and black, and somehow he knew he ought to be coughing and wiping tears from his eyes.

She lifted a delicate brow. “You served well.”

He kicked at the rubble. “Happy now?”

A grin spread over her small face, making her eyes shine. “Yes, I am. I feared you might bow out for a moment. Craving normalcy, always. Your greatest fear held you back.”

“My greatest fear?”

She poked a finger at his leg. “You know what I’m talking about. That you won’t find your way home. That Kalaes will decide you’re not worth it and choose Dain over you. That Alendra might decide you’re not worth the fright you put her through and walk away. That it was all for nothing.”

Oh, that. He ducked his head, feeling exposed and prickly all over. “Yeah, well. You didn’t leave me much choice, did you?”

“Don’t fool yourself. You made that choice. You chose the sacrifice because you love them. And they’d choose you no matter what you do.”

He shook his head, because he couldn’t know that and she was right. He was afraid. Why shouldn’t he be? Everyone left sooner or later. Albi. Pelia.

“Stop it.” She nudged him again. “It’s done.”

All done. He looked down at his boots, shiny, not a speck of dust on them, his black pants. “If this is real,” he whispered, “then I’m dead, right? Have to be. I blew up the temple.”

And why did he feel they’d been there before?

“Silly.” Poena shook her blond ringlets and laughed. “This is only a dream.”

Yeah, right. “And how do I wake up?”

“Pf.” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Just follow the path.”

He turned and saw it. A glowing path leading down the hill. People stood there, a small crowd, and now he could make out the faces. Kalaes, Alendra, Hera, Sacmis, Jek, Afia, a crowd of street kids. They waved.

Hesitantly he lifted his hand to return the greeting. “Are you coming with me?”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m part of the dream. We’ll meet again one day. Goodbye, Elei.”

Alarmed, he looked down, where her hand held his, light and soft like a flower. It was shimmering, fading like smoke. “Wait,” he said. “Poena, wait.”

“No more waiting,” she said and pulled away. “Go now or it may be too late.” She smiled, a brightness in her face that hurt his eyes, and nudged him toward the path. “I release you.”

But he didn’t want to go. Wasn’t sure he wanted to walk down that path. He felt good right now — no pain, no fear. Everything so luminous and peaceful.

A gnarled hand patted his shoulder and he glanced up into Albi’s lined face. “You can’t stay.” She pushed him toward the path and he stumbled down, staring at her over his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice thick, his eyes burning. “Can’t I stay with you?”

“Another time,” she promised, her eyes crinkled and kind.

“Elei.” Another hand caught his and pulled him onto the shining path. “Son.” Pelia looked younger than he remembered, her dark hair glossy and her cheeks flushed. “I’ll guide you.”

He let her guide him along, too stunned to talk. “You...” he stammered.

“I’m sorry for all this. You’ve done enough. More than enough, more than I ever expected.” She stopped, turned to face him. “I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you in that factory. You’re my bright light. I hope you’ll find what you have sought.” She glanced at the path. “Give my love to Kalaes. And now wake up.”

***

“Wake up,” a gruff voice said. “Come on, fe, breathe!”

Kalaes? Elei trusted Kalaes with his life, so he tried to breathe as instructed.

Next thing he knew he was coughing up his lungs and stomach, spewing water through his mouth and nose.

“That’s it,” he heard a female voice say, as he was pushed on his side, puking and gasping, his throat burning like fire. “Spit it all out.”

“Dammit, I should’ve known you’d pull this sort of stunt again. Here of all places. Pissing citadel.” Kalaes patted Elei’s back. “I was sure I wouldn’t make it in time, with the damn screens showing the explosion and...”

Elei’s ears rang so loud he missed the rest of the rant, and he was too busy puking to pay attention. His vision kept going dark and he fought to keep the shrinking patch of light from fading.

He was dripping wet. The chill wind stung his skin. The voices kept a debate over him as he choked and hacked.

“... To go... carry him... fast...”

“I got him,” Kalaes said and suddenly Elei was airborne, slung over a padded shoulder.

Oh shit.

He kept coughing, Kalaes’ shoulder bones pressing into his middle, cutting off what little air he’d managed to squeeze in. He shuddered.

“Ale,” he mumbled, his body flaring with pain pissing everywhere, bones, muscles and joints all screaming at him.

Gunshots sounded and bullets zipped. He was back, alright. Right in the middle of the war. Smoking ruins, check. Billowing smoke, check.

Yeah, he was awake, dammit, and reality hurt like a bitch. He could use Iset’s painkillers now.

“Put me down,” he wheezed and he was dropped to his feet. He fell to his knees, gasping.

“Come on,” Kalaes snapped, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright. “Run.”

They did, both limping and staggering, holding onto each other. The smoke was clearing as they went down the hill of the temple, and an aircar loomed, its door open.

Déjà vu.

Only it wasn’t Hera waiting for them at the ladder. It was Iset, gesturing for them to hurry.

Iset. That meant...

Alendra poked her head out of the door and he stumbled, Kalaes’ hold keeping him from kissing the ground.

She was okay. Iset hadn’t taken her to safety as she’d promised, but he couldn’t be angry. Damn, his eyes burned. Pissing smoke.

Going up the ladder almost defeated him. He didn’t think he had any broken bones but his knees felt like rubber, refusing to hold him. Alendra reached over the deck and dragged him up, Bestret’s dark head joining the blond one, strong hands gripping his wrist and pulling.

He landed on the aircar deck and rolled over, groaning.

Oh yeah, reality hurt, but it was worth it, seeing Alendra’s worried face over him. He opened his mouth to say her name but a coughing fit wracked him and he turned on his side as his lungs tried to turn themselves inside out.

Gods, how much water had he swallowed?

“Let’s go,” Kalaes barked and lifted Elei to his feet with Bestret’s help. “Pissing hells, fe, you’re bleeding like a stuck dog. What did you hit?”

“Stitches,” he wheezed, hanging between them, trying to get his legs to cooperate. “Must’ve blown some.”

“Stitches?” Alarm colored Kalaes’ voice, and then they were inside the aircar and the door hissed shut. “When did that happen?”

“Brace yourselves!” an unfamiliar woman’s voice shouted and they were thrown back to the floor.

Ow, dammit.

The windows exploded in a shower of shards. The aircar zigzagged.

“Incoming!” Iset yelled, cocking her longgun. “Hold on.”

Yeah, on to what? The world spun.

She fired round after round. An impact rocked them, then another. Elei’s ears rang and he could only lie there and ride the pain.

“So what’s your damn plan?” Kalaes shouted.

No reply for a while as the aircar took a sharp left turn and red hazed Elei’s eyes. Bullets slammed into the back, smashing the windows. Something exploded right next to Kalaes’ head and he dropped forward, covering his head with his hands.

“If we make it to the main square,” Iset hollered, “we could blend in the chaos and find a way out. They’ll be sending patrols to assess the situation around the defensive wall and to secure the roads.”

Another impact from the side sent them rolling. Elei hit the wall and his brain blanked out for a moment. He heard Alendra call his name. Kalaes was cursing.

Gods, Elei couldn’t catch his breath. He coughed, his ribs screaming at him, and curled on his side, biting his lip not to whimper.

“How much farther?” Kalaes asked. “Elei’s bleeding and I need to bandage—”

Another impact rocked them. Maybe they wouldn’t make it. Elei concentrated on not throwing up. If he started he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

“That’s the square,” Bestret said, shuffling toward the back and propping the barrel of her gun through the broken window. “Lie low.”

Kalaes muttered something under his breath and crawled toward Elei. His face was pale and streaked with red.

The noise of aircar engines and helicopters flying overhead crashed into the vehicle like a physical force. Visored Gultur ran among the idling aircars, shouting instructions and commands, the light glinting off their helmets, making Elei dizzier.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

They stalled for a while, strobing lights sending blinding slivers through Elei’s lids. Iset whispered something and their driver replied. Long moments rolled by.

“Follow that patrol,” Bestret said and then they were moving again, lurching forward. “Stay close, but go slowly and keep to the back of the formation.”

“Yeah, why hurry?” Kalaes drawled. “Let our pursuers catch up and make mince-meat out of us.”

“If we hurry, they’ll know which aircar to shoot down,” Bestret explained, exasperation creeping into her voice. “We need to blend in.”

“Well, sorry if I don’t trust you with my life right now,” Kalaes growled. “Not after you left me at the water plant with Zoe and the kids.”

Damn Iset and Bestret. Elei forced his eyes open. “Kal, what happened back there?” He tried to sit up but Alendra was there, kneeling by his side, pushing him back down, taking his hand in hers.

“I had to take the only aircar available, abandoning them to find you, because I just knew something bad would happen.” Kalaes smashed his fist into the floor. “And look how right I was.”

“How the hells did you break into Bone Tower?” Alendra asked.

“It was a bitch, believe me.” Kalaes sat back on his heels, passing his sleeve over his face, wiping blood and grime. “Got stopped at the checkpoint. Rex did its nifty tricks, changing my smell and all that shit, giving me an advantage. I took the guards out, stole their aircar and codes and slipped into the citadel.”

Kalaes made it sound so simple, but he was bloodied. Now Elei recalled, hadn’t he been shot at, back at the water plant? Hells.

“The gates,” Iset said, excitement rippling in her voice. “Almost there.”

The aircar shook. Elei squeezed Alendra’s hand. Her dark gold gaze nailed him to the ground. A trickle of blood ran down her temple. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but the aircar accelerated, and the whir of the engines rose through the broken windows, deafening.

She leaned close, so close her warm breath tickled his neck, and whispered in his ear, “We’re out of Bone Tower. And I don’t want to visit ever again.”

***

“Are we clear?” Kalaes scrambled up to the window and glanced outside. “Where are we?”

“On the road to Artemisia,” Bestret said. “We managed to drop behind the patrol without anyone noticing.”

“Elei...” Gentle hands shook him until he turned his head. “You blew up the temple,” Alendra breathed. “You could have been killed. How did you survive? How did you do that?”

With Poena’s help, he thought, but if he said that he’d have to tell them about the dream and all the other crazy stuff, and he didn’t feel up to it. Didn’t know what their reaction would be.

“You...” Kalaes leaned down and grabbed the front of Elei’s shirt. “By all rights you should be dead. What were you thinking?”

Elei looked away from the anger on Kalaes’ face. “Hera. Dakru City. I had to do something.”

“Son of a bitch.” Kalaes released him. “Always full of surprises.” His eyes softened, then hardened, and he cursed. “Dammit, you’re still bleeding.”

The sound of cloth tearing, hands tugging off his jacket. Elei blinked and gripped the seat to sit up.

Whoa, dizzy. The floor tilted. Maybe the aircar was rocking? Alendra tugged on his shirt and he let her pull it over his head, wincing.

“Indestructible,” Kalaes was muttering, tearing strips from his soggy t-shirt. His chest was covered in bruises and scars and a gash bled sluggishly down his arm. “You thought I was serious? A handful, that’s what you are, always getting hurt, always bleeding... Been through this not so long ago, and you barely made it, and now...”

Elei let him wrap the makeshift bandage around his bicep but resisted when Kalaes tried to pull off the shirt. No way was he letting Alendra see the snakeskin on his back. “I’m okay,” he mumbled.

The side of his head throbbed worse than usual. He brought a hand up and found a lump.

You’re afraid Kalaes will decide you’re not worth it. Not worth the effort.

Yeah, Kalaes didn’t seem very happy to see him. Elei stole a glance at the older boy and found him clenching the ruined t-shirt in his fists, his mouth twisted in a snarl. Was he really angry?

All Elei had done, all of it, had been because he wanted to go home. Home was Kalaes — and Alendra, and Hera, but Kalaes was different. He’d taken him in like Albi and Pelia had, as a brother.

He just wanted to go home. He didn’t care if it sounded childish. Wasn’t sure he could take any more of this. He couldn’t even hope it was a nightmare.

“Kal?” Alendra whispered, her voice strained.

Kalaes stood up, muttering, and began to pace.

“Sit down,” Iset called from the other side of the cabin. “We’re still not out of danger. Patrols are everywhere.”

Kalaes didn’t seem to hear. His cheekbones were flushed and sweat dripped down his face. “We’ll pass by the plant, see if they’re still there, pick them up, do you hear?”

“If the blockades let us, we will,” Iset said. “Just sit tight.”

“Damn right we will, damn you.” Kalaes drew his longgun. The sound of the safety clicking off was deafening. “You damn bitch, you left us there! I’m gonna blow your head off.”

“We left you behind thinking you’d be safe there,” Iset whispered, her face pale. “I am so sorry.”

Elei wanted to punch Iset himself, but now was not the time. Nausea churning in his stomach, he climbed to his feet. He found a wall handle, clutched it. “Kal? Put down the gun.”

“Can’t do this,” Kalaes muttered. “Can’t. Dammit.”

What in the hells was going on?

“Kalaes, sit down.” Iset got up and reached for him.

“I’m...” Kalaes staggered sideways, pressing a hand to his chest. “Shit.” He fell in a seat and slumped back, thumped his head against the backrest.

Alarms went off in Elei’s head. He pushed off the wall. “Are you okay?”

Kalaes screwed his eyes shut, his face drawn in strained lines. “Pissing parasite. It won’t relax for one second, and I’m...” His breath hitched, his hand on his chest tensed. “Ow, dammit.”

Oh shit.

“What’s the problem?” Bestret rose from her seat, a pulsing silhouette to Elei’s left side. “Is he injured?”

Ignoring her, Elei stumbled over to Kalaes, propped an arm on the seat and grabbed his chin. “Look at me, Kal. Breathe deep, okay? Ale, come here.”

She was already there, taking Kalaes’ hand, sliding the other in his hair and pulling his head to rest on her shoulder. “The heart?” she mouthed at Elei.

He nodded, letting go of Kalaes, worry like a stone pressing against his chest. “Everything’s okay, man. Just keep breathing. We’re safe here.”

Images from a trip back from Gortyn burst through his memory, with Alendra and Kalaes holding him. Apparently, too much adrenaline could constrict the flow of blood to the heart, courtesy of Rex. He hadn’t experienced it since then, but he recalled the crushing pain and breathlessness as if it’d happened yesterday.

“What’s wrong with him?” Iset spoke over Elei’s shoulder, scaring the crap out of him. “Should we stop?”

“No, we don’t stop. Just get in the back. Better yet, go sit with the driver. It’s the smell.” Looked like the faint overlay of peppery Rex scent wasn’t enough. Kalaes gasped again, arching against the seat.

“You’ll be fine,” Alendra was whispering in Kalaes’ ear. “Slow breaths.”

Damn Iset still hovered. “But what—?”

“Rex,” Elei snapped. “He’s still getting used to Rex and needs some space. Now back off.”

Alendra tugged at his sleeve and he swallowed hard. Crap, he was stressing Kalaes more. He stared at Iset until she finally stepped away.

“I said Elei is here, he’s okay, He’s right here. We’re both okay.” Alendra stroked Kalaes’ sweat-drenched hair back.

“Can’t, dammit,” Kalaes wheezed. “Can’t protect you.”

“Shut up.” Alendra wrapped her arms around him. “Do you think we can protect you? Can we stop bullets from hitting you or memories from hurting you? Stop thinking you can save everyone.” Pale-faced, she looked up at Elei, as if asking what to do.

He wished he knew.

“Like Dain,” he found himself saying, hoping this was the right topic, that it might convince Kalaes everything was okay — because Dain had survived, hadn’t he?

“Dain. That was my mistake,” Kalaes said, each word squeezed out between gasps. “I can wallow in it if I like.”

“You shouldn’t wallow in mistakes you can fix,” Alendra said softly.

“I tried, didn’t I?” Kalaes grunted. “Damn. He didn’t seem forgiving.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Give him time to process everything, yeah?”

“And Elei... shot in the back...”

Shit, he was about to tell Alendra about the snakeskin. Elei grabbed Kalaes’ wrist, checked the racing pulse. Still too fast. “We all have our fears,” he muttered. “I promise I won’t die on you.”

Kalaes snorted. “Just like that?”

“As long as...” Elei looked away, warmth rising in his neck.

“As long what, fe?” Kalaes sat up a little, his pulse settling in a slower rhythm.

Elei released Kalaes’ wrist. “As long as you keep me.” He shrugged. “Despite the trouble I cause.”

There it was, his own fear, spelled out and laid in the open like never before. He was aware of Alendra watching him, and his neck grew warm.

“Keep you?” Kalaes groaned and gripped Elei’s arm. What was it with everyone taking hold of him today? “Dammit, was there ever a doubt, fe?”

Elei’s head was full of doubts, but he said nothing.

“Keep us both?” Alendra whispered and her gaze moved from Kalaes to Elei, so bright.

Kalaes gave a breathless laugh and dragged Elei down to sit by him, then slung his arms around both of them. “Silly kids,” he wheezed. “You’re my family and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.” He closed his eyes and leaned back, grimacing. “Let’s just hope my heart can take it.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sacmis had turned on the communicator. Jumbled transmissions came through, snatches of voices, shouts and questions.

Hera raised her head. She had no idea how much time she’d lost, curled behind the navigation chairs in the cockpit of the war machine. She was so cold her teeth chattered, but she could see again. She could think.

“Status,” she barked and Sacmis jerked and glanced back.

“We’ve entered Dakru City, hatha,” she reported, her voice breathless.

“Nearing the Palace,” Mantis added.

No elation or relief in their voices. The price had been too heavy.

Hera heaved herself to her feet, leaning against the metal wall. “What about the Seleukids?”

“They’ll send more soon. We should hurry.”

It was damn weird, watching the buildings of the Gultur capital roll by as they advanced on the central avenue toward the Palace they’d broken into not so long ago to steal the maps of the underworld.

Hera swallowed past the hard knot in her throat.

The speakers kept spewing bits of information, confirming that the Bone Tower fleet was decimated and Rex was dead.

Elei was dead.

She stared ahead, at the looming Palace with its gleaming whale-skeleton structure, her eyes strangely dry when she felt the tears gathered behind her brow, burning like fire.

She’d do this for him, for Kalaes, for Ale and for everyone. She’d bring the regime to its knees, and then she’d crush it so that nothing remained but burning ashes.

***

Even from afar, the smoke spiraling over Dakru City was visible against the dawning sky. Seleukids flew over the buildings and helicopters poured water. The city was burning.

Hera, Sacmis, Mantis. Had they won? Had they survived?

“We need to find a transmitter. Contact Hera.” The words came out slurred and Elei touched his jaw. One side of his face was swollen and tender to the touch. The shock wave must have sent him into the side of the urn, and it had packed a wallop. No wonder he was dizzy. Iset had spoken of concussion and the need for a hospital.

Again.

Pissing circles.

But Kalaes had to see a doctor, Rex or not, to make sure his heart was fine, and they were all the worse for wear. Slumped on the seat next to Kalaes, Elei had to clench his teeth not to groan with every bump and bounce of the aircar on the uneven road, which wound among algae ponds and hamlets. He was sore to the bone and way too dizzy to move.

Got to stop falling on my face all the time.

Alendra was wiping the blood dripping down her temple with a piece of Kalaes’ ruined shirt, and her golden gaze caught his. She didn’t seem mad at him for leaving her with the two Gultur without a promise to return.

But he couldn’t read people well. Maybe her lifted brow meant she was in fact flaming pissed.

He ducked his head. The headache was killing him. Maybe Iset had some of those painkillers left. He looked up and saw Bestret fiddling with a glitcher. “Any news?” he asked instead.

“Only static.” Bestret scowled. “From the whole Gultur system connected to the glitchers. Nothing.”

Sounded like good news. Maybe. “Hera? Mantis?”

Iset shook her head.

Kalaes gripped Elei’s shoulder and sat up, his other hand still held to his chest. “No news?”

Alendra pulled him back. “Stay still. Is it getting any better?”

“Don’t know,” Kalaes said tightly and Elei had to swallow his worry. “What’s going on?”

“Shush,” Bestret said. “We have a transmission from Dakru City.”

Jumbled whispers came over the glitcher with a howling in the back that had to be the wind.

“Do you make out anything?” Alendra asked.

“Dakru City has been breached,” Bestret said, her voice low and kinda sad. She was a Gultur, after all. She raised wide eyes at them. “The gates have fallen.”

Elei opened his mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say. So was that it? Was the war over?

“What does that mean?” Kalaes whispered, grimacing, leaning back. “Damn.”

“It means the seat of the regime is gone, and Bone Tower cannot help them.” Iset suddenly grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “It’s more than we ever expected.”

“Oh yeah, because you were going to sacrifice us all for your cause.” Kalaes gritted his teeth, his face pale. “How far are we from the plant?”

“Just relax, man.” Elei patted Kalaes’ arm. “You need to relax.”

“Can’t,” he wheezed, closing his eyes. “Not until Zoe and Dain and the others are here. I had to leave them. Couldn’t take them to Bone Tower, they’d get killed.”

“You did the right thing,” Elei muttered.

“We’ll retrieve them.” Bestret put down the glitcher. “I owe you that.”

Yes, Elei thought, you do. He understood why Bone Tower had been so important. He only wished Bestret and Iset hadn’t used people like pawns.

The glitcher came back to life, a voice speaking loud and clear. A man’s voice. Elei leaned forward. It sounded familiar.

“Citizens of Dakru and the Seven Islands,” it said. “Bone Tower has fallen and Dakru City is now under the control of the resistance.”

“Mantis!” Alendra’s wide eyes glinted in the faint light of the aircar.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Mantis went on, calm and collected. “This is good news. Centuries of injustice and poverty will give way to equality and a better life.” He paused. “To information. To joint decisions. To a better management of our resources. To free water for everyone.”

Cheering went on in the background.

“Holy gods.” Kalaes opened one eye. “That boy went and did it.”

“They did it! Mantis, and Hera and Sacmis.” Alendra hopped to her feet, then sank back down. “That was because you blew up the temple.” She tilted her head, eyeing Elei. “You gave Mantis a chance to win the war.”

He squirmed, feeling like a sample under a microscope. Did that mean she wasn’t angry with him?

“We’re approaching the plant.” Iset got up, her longgun held at her hip. “Better be ready for anything.”

Right on cue, an impact hit the aircar, jarring them. They lurched sideways.

“Down!” Iset yelled as the window across from Elei exploded into a rain of shards. “They’re shooting at us.”

No shit.

He dragged Kalaes to the floor with him. Alendra swore as she crawled on all fours to pull a gun from a duffel bag. She cocked it.

“A blockade?” Elei found and drew Kalaes’ longgun. Gods, he missed his Rasmus.

“Cannot see them,” Bestret huffed. “They must be hiding.”

Hiding? Elei frowned. This made no sense and damn, everything hurt. His head... He wanted to wrench it from his shoulders, get rid of the pain.

Rex swept the aircar, as if that was any help. It only worsened the headache and made him want to puke his guts out.

What a sucky day. Night. And morning.

It was quiet.

“They’ve stopped shooting,” Iset said.

“Stop the aircar,” Elei said.

“We cannot,” Iset hissed. “That’s what they’re waiting for.”

“Stop.” He rose unsteadily, his bad leg barely holding him. “We can’t leave without Zoe and the others.”

Only problem was his balance wasn’t good. He’d fall on his face if he stormed the cockpit and that went against his new not-falling-on-my-face mantra.

That left few options. He leveled the gun on Iset. “Tell the driver to stop. Now.”

“You would not...” Her eyes widened. “You would.”

“And my patience is all up,” he ground out, finger caressing the trigger.

“Fine.” Iset kept her gaze on him as she stepped back and knocked on the driver’s door. “Stop the aircar.”

Elei braced himself against the wall, grabbing a handle. His head spun. He glanced at Kalaes who was curled on the floor, panting, and Alendra who held her gun like a pro, scowling at Bestret as if daring her to object.

The aircar slowed. The illuminated fence of the purification plant loomed not forty feet away. Behind the building, the eastern sky was breaking into red and pink swirls.

Elei released his death hold on the wall handle and staggered to the door. A nudge on the opening lever and the door slid open.

Alendra squeezed next to him, leaning on the door frame, and lifted her chin. “Ready.” She stepped outside, gun gripped in both hands.

Wisps of mist curled on the ground. The building rose from the gray haze like a battleship. Elei imagined cannons pointing at him from every side.

Rex told him two targets were hidden behind a fence post to his left. He turned, taking aim.

“Wait!” The woman’s voice came from his right, and Rex jolted him so badly he almost dropped the gun.

Yeah, looks like you missed one, buddy.

A silhouette emerged from the shadow of a burned aircar.

Ally, Rex whispered in his mind.

You don’t say. Elei squinted at the silhouette and Rex deigned to pull back a little, allowing him to see a girl with a head full of braids and a cocky attitude.

He blinked. “Zoe?”

“I’ll be damned. Elei? Oh gods, soomi, it is you.” She waved her hands, at the other two, Elei supposed. “Hey. Put away your guns!”

“Is that Zoe?” Alendra frowned. “Zoe, did you just shoot at us?”

“We thought you were a patrol.” Zoe grinned. “Can’t tell you how glad I am to see you, pooskers. The explosion destroyed the vehicles, except for the one Kalaes took.” She gestured at the aircar. “Is he with you? Is he okay?”

“I think,” Elei holstered his gun as Dain and another kid approached the aircar, “he’ll be okay when he sees you.”

“He’ll be? What the hells happened to him?” She stormed past him and grabbed the ladder to board the airship. Alendra hastened after her.

Elei turned to look at the two boys who halted a few feet away.

“It really is you,” Dain said, pushing blond hair out of his eyes. Elei couldn’t decipher the look in them. “I thought you must be dead. Is it safe? Can I tell the others to come?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the aircar, then back at Dain, the plant, and the skyline of Dakru City, spewing flames and smoke into the morning sky. “Better hurry.”

***

Elei climbed back onto the aircar, the world swimming in his eyes. Concussion sucked.

He found Zoe helping Kalaes up to the seat. Alendra was explaining about Rex. Kalaes shushed her, sprawling and propping his head on the backrest.

“Hey, girl.” He smiled at Zoe, then frowned. “Where’s Dain?”

“Here.” Dain stood at the aircar door, his blue eyes looking everywhere but at Kalaes. “So you’re back, huh?”

Elei told himself that punching the guy wasn’t a good idea. It certainly wouldn’t help Kalaes relax.

Dammit.

Kalaes straightened and nodded at Dain. “Come here, fe.”

Dain sighed, looked down at his feet, then shuffled over to Kalaes. Alarmed, Elei saw Kalaes push to his feet, but Zoe gave him a hand up.

He wanted Kalaes resting until they found a hospital. Before he could take one step, though, Kalaes had mock-punched Dain and they were doing a complicated handshake that involved slapping their hands and pumping their fists together.

Gang stuff, probably.

And then Kalaes put an arm around Dain’s shoulders and pulled him in a Kalaes-hug — bone-grinding and all-encompassing, leaving you no leeway, no way to escape.

Elei saw Dain’s eyes over Kalaes’ shoulder and he could swear they had tears in them.

Shaking his head, he went to take a seat across from them. Rex was relaxing, his leg hurt and besides, he didn’t think Dain would stress Kalaes now. In fact, Dain helped Kalaes back to the seat, where Zoe pulled his head in her lap and stroked his wild hair.

Alendra filled Dain in on what had happened and why Kalaes was ill.

Elei rubbed his eyes, starting a little when the other gang leaders appeared at the aircar door and filed inside to sit cross-legged on the floor of the cabin. He nodded at them, and when Iset made sure everyone was there to they could leave, he nodded again, too tired to talk.

He had the whole seat for himself. He placed his hands by his sides, splayed his fingers on the old, creaking nepheline, and bowed his head, feeling as if he was a thousand miles away. Alone. Drifting in the cold.

Coming down from the Rex-induced high, the adrenaline leaving his system. His hands shook. His head pounded.

Everyone’s okay. His fingers curled against his thighs. Everyone’s fine.

But he couldn’t shake off the fear that it was all a dream. Damn Rex, messing with his head.

“Is the seat taken?”

He looked up. Alendra smiled and waited, probably for an answer. He just stared, not knowing what to say.

Thankfully she seemed to understand because she sat by his side, looked right into his eyes and said, “I’m here.”

He nodded, hoping the sob caught in his throat wouldn’t escape. How had she known he had trouble believing it?

Perhaps she had the same trouble herself. Or else she read him like an open book. He didn’t mind.

“Elei,” she said, then louder, “I’m right here,” and her arms looped around his neck, her soft curves pressed to his side. “Gods, you scared me so much.”

“I’m so sorry, Ale,” he whispered.

“You’re here,” she said, head on his shoulder. “We’re both here. That’s what counts.”

All his breath left him and he clutched her against him, slipped his hands under her jacket and sweater, under her blouse to touch the warm skin of her waist. Not a dream, he told himself over and over again, not a dream. She wasn’t leaving, Kalaes wasn’t leaving. He hadn’t lost everything, hadn’t lost them.

Oh gods... He tried to remember the words of the prayer the monks had taught him at the factory before Pelia had found him. But they slipped through the cracks in his memories like fire sparks.

Gods, if you exist, he thought, I just want to say... Thank you.

***

Dakru city burned. Hera watched black smoke billow over the spires and roofs, engulfing the city in a dark mist. Flames jumped from windows and among crumbing walls.

Seleukids had fallen, hit by the war machine cannons, crashed into buildings and streets. Bruised metal wings jutted over the ruins. People — Gultur — ran in the avenues, their long hair loose and streaming behind them like colorful pennants.

Hera observed it all with a detachment that should have scared her. Not even Regina whispered inside her head. It was deadly quiet. It was as if she herself was absent from her thoughts — as if her mind was not her own.

As if the destruction around them was not real.

But the fires burned and the war machine ground over debris and rubble, heading toward the gleaming Palace which still stood, white and pristine, glowing proudly against the fumes and explosions.

“Tear it down,” Hera whispered, her own raspy voice startling her with its vehemence. “Gun the damn Palace down.”

Mantis glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “They’ll surrender. The loss of Bone Tower has broken the regime, as you said it would.”

Hera felt broken, too — the pieces so small they might never be put together again.

Drones swooped over the city, spitting bullets. Sacmis growled as she turned the cannons on them and methodically shot them down, one after the other.

What did it matter?

Snatches of talk came over the speakers. Someone had turned the transmitter on again. Mantis fiddled with the switches, going through the frequencies, his head bowed in concentration.

Then he pulled out a microphone from the console and spoke into it. “This is Mantis. The gates are down. Dakru city has fallen. I repeat, Dakru City has fallen. Get your asses here, soldiers.”

Sacmis gave soft snort.

Hera wished she could feel something, anything at all.

The war machine trundled through the main avenue with its slender trees, their silver foliage trembling. Mantis drove again and steered them between the tall facades of stately buildings, mostly untouched by the battle.

Aircars rushed into their path. Mantis never hesitated, driving on, the huge wheels of the war tower shoving the vehicles aside, onto the sidewalks.

The flower beds would need months to recover, Hera thought randomly. She tugged on her hair. The braids she’d wrapped around her head had slipped, hanging over her brow. She pulled out the hairpins, undid the knots with her fingers.

Drew a deep breath.

Snap out of it, hatha. You can get into shock after the battle is over. Then you can grieve. Not now.

Mantis’ machine gun was propped by the driver’s chair. She grabbed it, checked the ammo and grabbed a full magazine from his duffel bag. The emptiness inside her chest was filling with heat.

Anger. Blinding fury.

They’d killed her friends. They’d pay for this. Damn them to the five hells.

Bullets zipped past her head as she leaned out of a smashed window. So high up, towering over the trees, over some of the buildings. Cold air slapped her cheeks, sharpening her focus. A bullet stung her cheek and struck the window frame, ricocheting off into the night.

A miracle they were still alive, Hera thought as she aimed and fired on drones and tanks down below with cannons mounted on their tops. Why some lived and some died, and why you chose peace and therefore brought on war — all these questions... Unanswerable. Burning.

She fired, letting the anger pour through her hands, rain on anyone who tried to stop them. That was her only answer.

That’s for Elei, for Kalaes, for Alendra. For the peace you stole from me so many times over. In exchange I give you death.

Drones spiraled out of the sky, crashing into the avenue in heaps of twisted metal. A conflagration. A sacrifice.

Yes, that’s right. You wanted a sacrifice. I’m giving it to you.

Cannon fire and explosions from the city gates got her attention. She narrowed her eyes. Had Mantis’ army arrived?

No time to find out. They were rolling through the main square, crushing statues of Gultur scholars and magistrates. Ahead, the Capitol caught the powerful headlights of the war machine, a square nondescript cube of a building, and next to it, the Palace.

Its white, curved columns were familiar to her, embracing the glittering core of the Palace, its vertical, delicate towers. She’d lived there, knew the trainers, the cooks, the guards, the cleaners.

She’d thought it an honor.

Anger flared again. Anger and disappointment, disgust and mind-crushing sorrow.

“Ready,” Sacmis said and the motors whined as she flipped up switches and turned every cannon of the war machine that Hera could see on the Palace. “Locked on target.”

Hera held her breath. She pulled back from the window, dragging the machine gun inside. What would happen now?

The silence inside the cockpit grew, made heavier by the continuing booming of explosions and shouts outside. Mantis was hunched forward, staring at the Palace, his hands so tight on the steer the bones of his knuckles gleamed white. Sacmis sat still, a slight tremor in her arms.

Destroy it, Hera thought, but she found her hands trembling, too. She bowed her head. How would destroying more help? How would it bring her friends back?

“Look!” Sacmis whispered and the awe in her voice brought Hera’s head back up.

The Palace gates were opening. Rather, the Palace itself was opening, the shiny curved pillars lowering, falling outward like a fist unfurling, until the Palace stood naked and glorious in their center; a gem held on a giant’s palm.

Hera’s mouth fell open. “What in the hells?”

Mantis tsked. “My people. I told you.”

His words barely registered when the heavy doors of the Palace began to part, slowly, ponderously.

Visored Gultur guards appeared in the opening. They walked out in stately procession, forming two lines. A small commotion took place in the darkness of the interior, and then more guards exited, dragging between them a group of individuals.

Hera squinted. “Is that...?”

“The High Council,” Sacmis breathed.

Hera could not believe her eyes. “You had... They took...” The words would not come. “You have Gultur allies in the Palace?”

Mantis winked. “Of course I do. How did you think I kept tabs on everyone?”

Oh yes, he certainly had lots of aces up his sleeve. “That’s General Misya.”

“And High Elector Kora.” Sacmis pushed up her visor. Her eyes were wide. “They have capitulated.”

“But why?” Hera tried to wrap her mind around this development. “We only have one war machine. I expected...” Another battle. More bloodshed. More death.

“You and Sacmis aren’t the only Gultur believing it’s time for a change,” Mantis whispered. “You aren’t the only ones sick of injustice.”

Hera slid down the wall of the cockpit, the machine gun resting between her legs. Gods. If only Elei was here to see this... And Kalaes... Alendra...

Was it worth it?

She had to believe it.

***

Dakru City had been caught by surprise. It was eerily quiet, like a ghost town, when Hera and Mantis drove back to the gates, a line of vehicles behind them, to secure them. The war machines outside had already been taken over by members of the resistance who’d been hiding in the city. They now stood dark and lifeless, brooding monument along the walls of the outer city.

They were in time to watch Mantis’ army roll into the city, an endless line of old, battered aircars, their engines groaning and grinding as they filled the long central avenue.

Out of the aircars jumped kids with ridiculously big guns and attitude to match. They blocked the city gates, set up guard on the walls, then rounded up the inhabitants and locked them in the theater hall until the situation was stable.

Would it ever be stable? How long until real peace was achieved?

It was a miracle none of Mantis’ small soldiers went berserk and started shooting indiscriminately. One reason might be exhaustion, Hera thought. The children had been on stand-by for days now, posted in various spots outside the city, waiting for word from Mantis.

The sky was bright, light spilling among the clouds, as Hera returned to the Palace. Under Sacmis’ guidance, most members of the government and the double-crossing resistance council had been rounded up, including Nine. Hera had the pleasure of holding a gun to the woman’s head while Mantis read the true resistance’s demands and terms.

The boy had really been planning this for a long time.

Do not dare be impressed again, Hera. This is Mantis. The one who leads you. She would not make the mistake of underestimating him again.

The regime accepted their terms, though Hera was certain more battles would be fought outside the capital. It was decided the electric pillars would remain active until every single Gultur station outside Dakru had reported in and had capitulated as well.

That would take time. Mantis directed his tech people to set up camp in the communications room and ‘get cracking’.

Hera left the council room and went to sit in the hall outside. She rested her head on her folded arms. It was over for now.

And it still did not matter.

She had not felt this lost in years. She should be leading the patrols in the city, should be supervising the security measures and meeting with her fellow Gultur who were members of the resistance.

Quicksand. That was what it felt like. Like sinking with no hope of surfacing. She had no idea how long she sat there, her head heavy, her mind dark.

Movement roused her, a stirring in the air. She looked up.

“M’lady.” Mantis stood before her, his face grave. “May I speak with you?”

“You need no permission for that.” She shook her head. “Have they gone back on their damn word already?”

He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“The woman who betrayed you. Maera.”

“What of her?”

“Well...” He inhaled. “I took the liberty to ask whether they’d found the bodies. You know, of Kalaes and Elei and Alendra.”

“Yes?” Her heart lurched. She thought she might be sick.

“They said no report of Kalaes dying has been filed. In fact, Gwen Kheret has been looking for him.”

“Who?”

“They said it’s their name for Maera. The ‘Girl Child’. She’s looking for him.”

Hera unfolded, her back creaking, and wiped her hands on her pants. “So he’s alive?”

One corner of Mantis’ mouth lifted in an uncertain smile. “It’s not certain. But he might be.”

“Then we’ll find him. Can you trace where Maera is now?”

He put a hand to his chest, his smile growing wide. “Leave it to me, m’lady. I’ll sniff her out.”

Chapter Twenty

“We must enter Dakru City,” Iset said.

Elei blinked groggily at her over Alendra’s tousled head. “What?”

“Dakru City.” Iset scowled. “It’s our only chance.”

Kalaes stirred where he half-lay, Zoe’s fingers threaded in his dark hair, and frowned. “Come again? What in the hells are you talking about?”

“It’s the only safe place in the area. I’ve been listening to the glitcher. The police forces around the capital are regrouping to try and re-conquer it. We need to move fast.”

Not over, then — the war, the running. Too easy, he supposed. Dammit.

“If we make it into the city, we should be safe,” Iset said, as if reading his thoughts.

The police forces were regrouping. Blockades. Ambushes. “How?” he ground out.

“I have an idea.”

“Really.” He held her gaze for a moment, before she looked away. “Are you going to try trading me again?”

“No, the idea—”

“Again?” Kalaes sat up, his face white, lines of pain around his mouth. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”

Iset swallowed hard. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I said so already.”

As if that made it all right.

“Damn you, what did you do?” Kalaes growled, struggling to sit up. Zoe held him down. “You traded my brother — for what?”

“To enter Bone Tower,” Iset said calmly. “A mistake.”

“You bet it was.” Kalaes’ lips pulled back in a snarl. “I’ll make you wish you never set eyes on him and...” He grimaced and lay back. “Shit.”

Hells. “Kal, I’m fine,” Elei said. “In the end it was for the best.” He turned to Iset. “What’s your idea?”

“A message circulated some days ago that Gwen Kheret was searching for a boy named Kalaes.”

“Maera,” Elei breathed; vague memories of kicking her and falling out of the Gultur aircar assaulted him.

“Maera?” Kalaes groaned. “How do you know?”

“She apprehended him,” Bestret said. “She caught Elei Rex. Before we arrived.”

“You talked to Maera?” Kalaes blinked. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“She was looking for you,” Elei said. “She thinks...” He eyed Kalaes, wondering if Maera was right. “She thinks you’ll forgive her and start anew.”

“Gods dammit.” Kalaes scrunched his eyes shut.

Elei clenched his jaw. “She’s an initiate, infected with Regina.” He licked his dry lips. “I don’t think she’s entirely sane.”

“Ex girlfriend?” Zoe hazarded, her eyes twinkling.

A lot more complicated than that.

“Very ex,” Kalaes said firmly.

“She has some power in the regime,” Bestret said.

Elei waited.

“We can send out a circular on the glitchers, saying Gwen Kheret’s demand will be met.” Before Elei opened his mouth to curse, she went on. “Kalaes can give us a key word or phrase, something to let her know it’s from him.”

“And then?” Elei snapped.

“She has to be near Dakru City where the forces are amassing. Meeting Kalaes is her own private mission. We meet, we capture her and use her vehicle which has all the codes necessary to pass the blockades. We may not be able to get into the city otherwise.”

Sounded easy. Suspiciously so. “What makes you think she won’t show up with three aircars full of police, their guns trained on us?”

Iset shrugged. “It’s a risk.”

“No.” Elei’s heart hammered. “Kalaes can’t see her.” He wasn’t well, and he should relax, not get more stressed, and Maera... “She can’t be trusted.”

“He does not have to meet her.” Iset raised her hands — to appease them or to deflect their angry gazes, Elei wasn’t sure. “We’ll be ready to immobilize her and tie her up, then take over her aircar.”

Still, no. “There must be another way,” Elei said, desperate to save Kalaes the heartache.

“Tell her...” Kalaes waved a hand, the black spiral tattoo marking his pale skin like a scar. “Tell her ‘wicked scum’. She’ll understand.”

“Kal,” Alendra said, still pressed close to Elei, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to see her,” Kalaes said, closing his eyes again. “I need to say goodbye.”

***

They were racing toward Dakru City, its spires and skyscrapers rising in the distance like a massive wall. A shiver of apprehension went through Elei’s bones. His memories of the capital weren’t any better than those of Bone Tower. Every scrap of recollection was tinged red, covered in a film of blood.

Blood, trickling hot down his arm where it was wrapped around Alendra’s shoulders, blood in the ruins of the temple in Bone Tower, spreading like the tentacles of a nightmare, seeking, searching.

“You stink,” Alendra said, scrunching up her nose, and he snorted, his nasty train of thoughts broken.

But she didn’t pull away like Elei expected. She snuggled closer, looking perfectly at ease in the crook of his arm. Like a big, golden cat.

Not for the first time he wondered where Cat was, if he’d ever see the black furball again, but even that regret couldn’t shake off the contentment he felt.

He dozed on and off, watching the landscape roll by, the blue algae ponds giving way to shrubs and arid stretches, then fungi cultivations, and finally factories. They were entering the outskirts of Dakru City.

Then the glitcher buzzed to life. Iset listened, pale brows knotted, as a woman’s voice confirmed a meeting with Gwen Kheret outside the southern gates of Dakru City, near the cloth factory.

Iset put the glitcher down and turned it off. She looked up at them, her blue eyes serious. “We’re set. It’s not far from here, we should be there within the hour.”

Elei shook his head, still unsure whether this was a good idea or a disaster waiting to happen. With his luck, probably the latter. It wasn’t just himself now. It was Kalaes and Ale and Zoe and the kids. What if it all went wrong?

“Breathe,” Alendra murmured, placing a hand on his chest, over the blood-stained t-shirt. “Oxygen’s good for you.”

He huffed and gazed at her upturned face. Her lips looked softer than sleep. “Breathing is overrated,” he said quietly.

She pulled him down for a kiss — soft and deep, hot and shiny, made of sparks and lightning that sizzled down his body. A gasp escaped him and he cupped the back of her head, pressing their mouths, their bodies together, and it wasn’t enough.

Whistling and clapping registered through the haze and Alendra drew back, breaking the kiss.

Elei blinked, disoriented. He’d forgotten they weren’t alone in the aircar. His cheeks warmed and he ducked his head. Alendra buried her nose in his shoulder and giggled. A quick peek showed him Kalaes grinning, so yeah, the heat rising in his neck was worth it.

And then the aircar slowed and Iset stood, a hand on her longgun. “We’ve arrived.” Her voice was sharp, and everyone fell quiet.

Success or disaster, take your pick. Elei’s expectations were definitely on the low side right now.

He drew his longgun and turned toward the door.

***

Time stuttered to a stop. Maera entered the cabin, her caramel curls and slim shoulders backlit by the dawning sky so she seemed to glow. She held a pistol pointing down, and Elei had no doubt it was cocked and ready to fire.

Hidden behind a seat, he shaded his eyes, Rex humming along his nerves. He kept the longgun aimed at her head. If she tried anything at all...

She paused, squinting at the dim interior. Kalaes stood in the center of the cabin, hands in his pockets, peering at her under lowered lashes.

Elei bit on his lip, clenched his hand around the grip of the gun. Kalaes shouldn’t be up, shouldn’t be going through this messy encounter, not today, not now.

Pissing hells.

“Kal.” Maera glanced at the back of the cabin where some of the kids hid behind the seats. The rest had been packed in the storage cabin in the back.

“Mae.” His voice was rough, with cracks around the edges.

Her mixed scent, moist earth and sugar, burned Elei’s nostrils.

She glanced sideways at Iset who stood by the door. “Thank you for notifying me.”

“Senet.” Iset inclined her head. “We endeavored to extract information relevant to our cause from him but he resisted our efforts. I’m sure you will find success where we have failed.”

Maera nodded, her gaze straying back to Kalaes. “How have you been?” she asked.

“I’ve been better.”

What was taking so long? Bestret was supposed to storm the other aircar with the driver’s help while Iset captured Maera. Dain hid outside, acting as a messenger to let them know if things went according to plan — but what was Iset waiting for?

“I’ve missed you,” Maera said, taking a step forward. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Kalaes shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice strangled.

“Do you forgive me?” She took another step. “Did you miss me?”

Elei’s finger trembled on the trigger. Iset, dammit, get on with it.

“Forgive what?” Kalaes didn’t move, but a corner of his mouth lifted.

“So you do,” Maera purred, smiling. “You won’t regret this.”

Iset whipped out her gun and slunk behind Maera, who froze. Maera’s curls bounced as she raised her gun — but not toward Iset, as Elei expected. She aimed it straight at Kalaes’ head.

Hells. He’d been afraid this would happen — among other disastrous things. He pushed to his feet, saw Alendra do the same at the periphery of his vision, and had a moment to wonder if he could get a shot in before Maera blew Kalaes’ head off — her love seemed erratic at best—

Kalaes shifted forward. A gun materialized in his hand as if out of thin air — Maera’s gun, Elei had the time to realize, as Kalaes pressed it to Maera’s forehead.

“I don’t regret it,” Kalaes told Maera. “Any of it. I only regret putting others in danger because of it. I don’t miss you and I don’t forgive you for hurting them.”

A breath shuddered out of Elei’s chest. He stepped around the seat and sat on it, his legs shaking but his aim steady.

“You...” Maera glared at Elei, even with the muzzle of Kalaes’ gun kissing her brow. “You organized all this, didn’t you?”

Elei shook his head, Rex wavering between pulsing colors and solid surfaces, unsure whether to let its guard down or not. “You wanted to talk to him. You talked.”

Her eyes flashed, furious, but Kalaes only pressed the gun harder into her skull. “Don’t move.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Maera whispered. “You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe he would not, but I will,” Iset said, her voice low and deadly. She pressed her gun to the side of Maera’s neck, under the curls.

Elei’s hand began to tremble. He lowered his gun just as Dain appeared at the door, grinning widely.

“We’re ready to roll,” he said, gaze darting between Iset and Kalaes, who both held guns against Maera. “Shall I tie her up?”

Kalaes nodded. “Tie her and gag her. I don’t want to hear another word from her mouth.”

Tremors went through his body, and Elei made as if to stand, alarmed. Too late.

Kalaes’ gun fell from his hand, and he folded quietly to the ground.

***

The drive into Dakru City was a blur. Zoe was pressing on Kalaes’ chest, thirty compressions, then breathing into his mouth, making sure that his chest rose. She kept it up until Iset pushed her aside and took her place.

Elei was vaguely aware they passed checkpoints, their two aircars waved through when the codes given to them by Maera’s driver were entered. He was conscious of Iset checking on them from time to time, and of Alendra kneeling by his side.

He had no idea what to do. He felt frozen. He’d already thanked the gods for saving everyone. Had that angered them? Had his words reminded them he’d abandoned them long ago?

Or had he simply dropped his guard too soon? He should’ve known it wouldn’t be over.

Alendra shook him and he felt coolness on his cheeks. “Bestret sent a transmission giving some details and asking for the nearest hospital. Maera’s driver is showing her the way.”

Elei shook his head, not knowing how to push out the words lodged in his throat. Not sure they’d make sense.

He feared... He dreaded. The images of the nightmare were returning to haunt him. Maybe that dream would come true after all.

He reached down, clasped Kalaes’ wrist, bowed his head. Peppery smell, mixed with sweat and the copper of blood.

One of our own, Rex whispered.

Yeah.

His heart started to thump faster. With a gasp, he hunched over, lifting a hand to his chest. Faintly he heard Alendra asking him something, Dain’s voice rising.

Was he having a heart attack, too? Would he die together with Kalaes?

Fitting. It was fitting.

But there was no pain. His breath came short, faster and faster, and the muscles in his arms contracted. His hands curled into fists.

Rex would fix his own.

“Back,” he heard himself say, then louder, “get back!”

“Elei,” Alendra said, her voice high with panic, “what are you doing?”

He shot to his feet, circled Kalaes’ body and shoved Iset away. She protested, he could hear her indignant shouts, background noise. He knelt by Kalaes, raised his fist and brought it down on Kalaes’ chest.

He felt the rib snap. He froze, his fist raised, watching Kalaes’ face. Sweat dripped down his face. Still he waited.

Kalaes’ eyes opened and he arched off the floor with a gasp. His hands clawed at nothing, his gaze unfocused and wild.

Elei lowered his fist, although he couldn’t unclench his fingers. He couldn’t catch his breath and his sides hurt as if he’d been running for hours. Rex still pulsed inside his head, the colors blinding in their intensity.

Alendra knelt by his side and wrapped an arm around his back, then leaned over Kalaes. “Hospital’s less than five minutes away,” she said. “Hang on.”

Kalaes said nothing, and Elei forced own his hand to unfold so he could place it on Kalaes’ chest, to feel it fall and rise. The colors were beginning to fade, but his vision wasn’t clearing. The outlines remained blurry, the world undefined.

“Elei,” Alendra whispered and he blinked, trying in vain to clear his eyes. “Hang on. We’re almost there.”

Hang on? He was okay. Kalaes was the one who needed attention. Shapes shifted and danced around him, turning his stomach. The world was out of focus.

“Elei, talk to me. Can you see me?” Alendra tugged on him and his body was heavy, as in a dream, not responding. He wanted to answer, but couldn’t remember the question.

“I told you it was a concussion,” Iset said from somewhere near but he couldn’t tell where. “Keep talking to him.”

“Prepare to move out,” another voice said. “Hospital in view.”

When had they gotten there? Time stretched, then seemed to jump. He was missing time. Why was he missing time?

Cold air hit his face. The aircar door was opening.

“Hold on to me,” Alendra said, and another arm came around his back from the other side and he was lifted to his feet.

Crap, why couldn’t he focus on anything?

“Kal,” he slurred, the floor of the aircar rocking like the deck of a ship at sea.

He should be scared, shouldn’t he? He should be doing something, like checking Kalaes was still breathing. Why wasn’t Rex reacting? Had it given up on him?

“Hey.” Alendra was pressed against him, her arm tight around his waist. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?”

When you are, he wanted to say but that would be too much like Poena’s words, too much like death, so he didn’t.

Chapter Twenty-One

“She’s found him,” Mantis said with no preamble, entering the room where Hera and Sacmis were fiddling with the communicator.

Hera sat back, her heart in her throat. “Maera found Kalaes?”

“Apparently she had patrols looking for him. She got a message less than an hour ago telling her he’d been found alive.”

Hera shot to her feet, her mouth opening and closing. She had no idea what to say.

“Excellent,” Sacmis said and rising caught her arm. “Do you have coordinates?”

“Well... That’s the catch,” Mantis said, and it was only then Hera noticed he was not smiling.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“The same source that sent the message to Maera just sent another transmission asking for the nearest hospital.”

“But that does not mean...” Hera took a step toward him, yanking her arm free of Sacmis’ hold. “The transmission came from a Gultur aircar, is that not so? Why do you think it’s Kalaes?”

“Young male, heart attack. Infected with the Rex parasite.” Mantis’ mouth turned down at the corners. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Each breath rattled in Hera’s chest. “Hells,” she whispered, her mind fogged over like glass. “Will he be admitted? What if they cannot…?” She turned on her heel and headed to the door. “I’m going there.”

“I’m coming with you.” Sacmis hurried after her.

“Be careful,” Mantis said quietly. “I’ll keep your city until you return.”

Hera was sure he would; never had a doubt. “I fought to fix this world,” she said as she strode out. “But only you can make it work. This is your city now.” And she left without waiting to hear his answer.

The hospital was right outside the center of Dakru City. The street kids manning the gates of the first wall let them through, and Hera drove out between thinning houses and then into an industrial park with factories and clinics.

“Turn left here.” Sacmis checked her longgun, getting ready to clear a path to Kalaes.

Good.

The hospital was a typically square, tall building though this one was meant for Gultur and was therefore freshly painted and covered in glass and shiny metal. She wondered if she’d have to shoot everyone in sight to find Kalaes. Who knew how the Gultur manning the hospital had reacted to the news of the capitulation?

Hera had rather hoped the killing was over.

They rounded the hospital fence to the heavy iron gates as Sacmis lowered her window and took aim.

An aircar was parked in front of the watchtower and an armed Gultur guard stood below its open door, longgun pointed.

The odd thing was, it was pointed at another Gultur, identical in her gray uniform but for her gleaming visor.

“What’s going on?” Sacmis breathed.

“Whoever is against the guards is on our side,” Hera said firmly as she drove closer. “Can you disable her?”

“I assume that’s a rhetorical question,” Sacmis muttered and pressed the trigger. The guard jerked before the deafening crack of the gunshot had reached Hera’s ears.

A slender figure appeared on the deck of the parked aircar. Another Gultur?

Hera narrowed her eyes as she maneuvered the vehicle closer. No, not a Gultur. Golden hair fluttered like a glowing mist in the headlights of the watchtower. “Ale,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat.

Alendra raised her gun but did not fire. She seemed to be waiting as Hera parked and hurried out of the vehicle with Sacmis.

“Ale.” She waved and Alendra lowered her gun.

“Hera?”

Hera clambered up the ladder, Sacmis on her heels. Alendra gave her a hand up and Hera squeezed it as she reached the deck, proof her friend was alive. “It’s so good to see you. Is Kalaes with you?” Hope made breathing difficult.

“Kalaes and Elei,” Alendra said, and Hera suddenly saw how red-rimmed and wet her eyes were. “Come on. We need your help.”

***

“Elei?” whispered a woman’s voice. A hand caught his face and he hissed as fire spread along his jaw. He tried to make out the hazy face leaning over him, tried to place the soft voice.

“Hera?” Oh gods, more hallucinations? Panic gripped him and he started to shake.

Slender arms came around him and warmth enveloped him. Silky hair tickled his neck and all he could smell was sugar — Gultur, Echo — and Rex jolted inside him, so he shook harder.

“He has a pretty bad concussion,” Alendra’s voice said, her voice gritty.

Oh yeah, he did. Had surely cracked his skull open, left his sanity leaking on the floor. How could Hera be there?

“We took Dakru City, Elei,” Hera said and made a sound half-way between laughter and a sob. “It’s done.”

“Kal...” he rasped, trying to break free, scared when he couldn’t, when tears rose to his eyes. When had he completely lost control over his body’s reactions?

Hera pulled back and he reeled where he knelt. She grabbed his shoulders, stopping him from toppling over. “Where’s Kalaes?”

“Here,” Alendra said.

A sharp breath and Elei was released. “Is he alive?”

He swayed and bent over, the sudden movement making him want to puke his guts out.

“His heart stopped,” someone said — Bestret, probably — “but now it’s beating again. He’s still unstable, though.”

“Let’s get moving,” Hera snapped. “Start driving, Sacmis is clearing the way. And get me the Palace on the transmitter.”

Hera was back. Hera was in charge. Everything would be okay.

Elei’s frantic heartbeat began to slow at long last. He listened to Hera bark orders against the static of the transmission, commanding whoever was at the other end to demand the hospital’s cooperation.

They’d obey, he thought fuzzily, resting his forehead on his drawn-up knees. The hospital, the guards, everyone.

For their own good, they’d better.

***

Gurneys, nurses and doctors giving them dark looks, the sweet scent of Regina wafting everywhere.

Hera shut it all out. She was vaguely aware of Alendra leaving with Zoe to check a gash on her arm, of Sacmis standing guard at the door of the room they’d been issued, grateful one of them, at least, kept a level head.

Hera was too horrified to think straight.

Elei, Kalaes, Ale — they’d been supposed to be a distraction. Meant to stay out of the battle. And she’d thought they’d all died.

They looked like they’d been through three wars and barely come out alive. In fact — Hera leaned closer to Kalaes’ cot, her throat closing — some of them were still fighting for their lives. Electrodes were attached to Kalaes’ broad chest, connected to a large artificial pacemaker. Bandages covered much of his ribs and were wrapped around one thigh, under which, Hera knew, were stitched-up wounds.

He was so still. His face was blank in an unnatural sleep. Coma, the doctor had said, but she did not like the word. He’d wake up soon. He had to.

She smoothed the dark hair off his face. Please, Kal, wake up.

“His heartbeat is still irregular,” the doctor said, her cold blue eyes not meeting Hera’s.

Hera knew that. She’d been watching the heart monitor like a hawk for the past couple of hours since they’d come in. “But he’s improving?”

The doctor pursed her lips. “Yes, he is. Although his body temperature is much higher than expected for a mortal.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Rex,” she whispered.

A whimper drew her attention and she glanced over at the other cot where Elei lay.

The boy didn’t look much better than his adopted brother. He was stitched up as much as Kalaes, his arm, his side, the side of his face. His jaw was swollen, his right eye almost shut. A bandage was wrapped around his head. He, too, was running a fever according to the doctors, but Hera hoped that was Rex as well, helping him heal.

The worst thing, though, was the muttering, the seemingly endless string of words coming from Elei. Elei who was usually so quiet you had to drag the words out by force.

“What about him?” Hera whispered.

“Cat...” Elei muttered, shifting restlessly on the cot, his fingers clutching the covers. “I lost Cat. Can’t find him, there’s smoke... Ale? Come back. Please, Ale, come back. I wish... I wish Hera was here...”

Tears stung Hera’s eyes. She wiped at them shakily and went to sit at his side. She took his hand. Blood had crusted under his fingernails and his knuckles were scraped raw. She smoothed them. “What about him?” she repeated, her voice choked.

“Hits to the head are tricky.” The doctor walked around the cot to stand on the other side and folded her arms over her green coat. “You said he was coherent when you found him?”

Hera opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped. Coherent. He’d spoken her name, she remembered that clearly, with such disbelief in his voice... He’d hugged her back.

Had he?

Oh gods. The tears finally spilled free, the tears she’d been holding inside since she’d seen the explosion on the giant screens. They burned her cheeks. “No, I do not know. But he was awake.”

Unlike now, when he seemed caught in an endless loop of nightmares and memories, unable to surface.

“Talk to them,” the doctor said, moving toward the door. “That helps.”

Elei’s fingers suddenly clenched around hers, grinding her bones together. His eyes opened, unfocused, and he frowned. “Hera?” he whispered.

“Yes. I’m here.” Her heart rose to her throat.

He nodded, a slight dip of his chin. “Did we win?”

She laughed, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I think we did.”

“You’re fuzzy.” His frown deepened.

“It’s the concussion,” she said. “You’ll get better.”

“Kal?” He rolled his head on the pillow, squinting beyond.

“He’ll be fine,” Hera croaked, a lump the size of Dakru Island in her throat. “We’ll be fine.”

He squeezed her hand again, weakly this time, his eyes closing, energy already spent. “Stay?”

“Of course. Not going anywhere.” She drew a shaky breath.

“We missed you.” He huffed, a soft exhalation. “We love you, you know.”

Hera shook her head, unable to speak, breath caught on a sob. He’d said it so matter-of-factly, as if she should have known.

Perhaps she should.

No more doubts.

***

Hospitals weren’t so bad after all, Elei decided. Painkillers. Less dizziness. Food. A bed. Quiet.

Or maybe he was getting used to staying in white rooms with peeling paint, dressed in funny, paper-thin clothes.

Maybe.

He slid his hand under his pillow, touched his Rasmus, the gun Pelia had given him. Hera had found it in Iset’s aircar. Its shape was familiar, comforting.

Garish lightning that cast a greenish sheen on pale skin. Rows of cots. Alendra curled up in the cot next to his, pale hair hiding her eyes. Kalaes, who’d finally woken up, with an arm thrown over his face, electrodes on his chest monitoring the steady rhythm of his heart. Zoe asleep by his side.

Hera was there, and Sacmis, dozing in the chairs by his bed. His whole family. He hadn’t jinxed it; the gods hadn’t held it against him.

So now you believe? a little, mocking voice muttered in the back of his head.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to move. The doctor had said he seemed to be getting better. His brain had been rattled pretty badly, what with dropping facedown on the asphalt a couple of times, getting punched in the head and then banging his skull inside the urn of the Bone Tower temple.

On the whole, he was getting off lightly, the doc had said, and Elei had only shrugged, wondering what her reaction would be if Elei told her how much.

It didn’t seem important.

The main thing was that now he could see just fine, didn’t want to puke all the time, and his memories, if fuzzy, were there. He’d told Hera and Sacmis about Mitt who had betrayed them, being an acolyte of Regina, about Iset and Bestret and the other New Gultur. Kept nothing back — about Iset’s and Bestret’s double-crossing and later remorse and how in the end they’d begun to earn back his grudging trust.

Then he’d had to stop, too tired, and Hera had made a rare joke, saying it was time he shut up, as he’d been chattering endlessly while unconscious.

Very funny.

Meanwhile, Kalaes’ heart was recovering. Alendra and a couple of others were kept for dehydration and exhaustion. Alendra had stated she wouldn’t move from his side unless they pried her off with a tong. That had settled the argument.

He grinned like an idiot, eyes still shut, hands lax on the bed sheets. He felt... as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of daylight and was about to float off the bed.

Happy. That was how he felt. So happy his eyes burned. Wasn’t that ironic? That he could cry in joy just like in sadness, the tears cleansing.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, voices were rambling around him. He panicked where he lay on his side, trying to remember where he was and what had happened — was he in Bone Tower? Artemisia? Teos? — then relaxed as the memories rolled back in.

Hospital. You’re safe.

“We thought he was dead,” Hera was saying somewhere on his left. She’d been there when he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t she? Who was she talking to? “When we saw the explosion at Bone Tower... I was certain I’d never see him again.”

Yeah, he’d thought that, too.

He rolled on his back, wincing as various old and new wounds pulled and protested — his side, his arm, his back, his leg — and forced his gummy lids apart. He blinked at the harsh light, his head throbbing.

Blinded, he turned his head against the hard pillow and found himself gazing into Alendra’s golden eyes. She’d pulled her cot next to his, and had a hand resting on his hip.

He stared, caught by surprise. She stroked a fingertip over his cheek and he couldn’t help a smile.

“Hey.” Hera leaned over, smiling too. Her dark eyes twinkled, transparent somehow, touched with dark green and gold. “You look better.”

Elei patted the bandage that wound around his head and snorted softly. Yeah, right.

“Well, well.” Kalaes sounded amused and Elei glanced past Alendra’s head to see him with his arms folded under his head, a lazy grin on his face. “I see you found the time to map each other’s bodies in detail once more.”

It took Elei a moment to realize Kalaes wasn’t talking to him. Dammit, Kalaes looked okay. Elei had seen him brush death so often lately he could hardly credit it. A knot came undone in his chest and he drew a shaky breath.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Hera griped.

“Ignore him,” Sacmis said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

“I bet you did it in the guest room of the hospital.” Kalaes arched a brow. “Naughty of you, I must say.”

“We did not!” Hera’s voice dripped indignation. “You just made that up like you—”

“Uh uh.” Kalaes chuckled. “Yes, you did. You shouldn’t pretend in front of someone who can see where your hands have been.”

That shocked a bark of laughter out of Elei. “You can see that?” Of course he could. Hells.

“How can he see that?” Elei demanded, finally able to sate his curiosity. “How can he see where Gultur touch?”

“It’s possible that, uh, he can see the residue,” Hera cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed, “of electric discharge left by Gultur hands.”

Elei let the words roll in his mind, tried to connect them to Kalaes’ comment, and snorted. Oh gods, this was too precious. Hera caught red-handed with no way out. “So it’s true. You were doing it.”

“Elei. I’m not...” Hera stammered.

“Yes, we were,” Sacmis put in calmly and slung an arm over Hera’s shoulders. She wagged her pale brows. “That’s what lovers do.”

Damn. It was Elei’s turn to blush, his mind suddenly bursting with images of Alendra’s body, the softness of her lips, the roundness of her breasts, and how it might feel to touch her and...

“Earth to Elei.” Kalaes waved a hand. “Still with us?”

“What did I miss, pooskers?” Zoe entered the room, a bottle of water in her hands. Her slender dark brows drew together and she pointed the bottle in Kalaes’ direction. “You’re laughing. Why are you laughing?”

“Slander. I’m definitely not laughing,” Kalaes protested, snickering so badly he was barely able to talk. He wheezed, an arm wrapped around his middle. “And Hera and Sacmis definitely didn’t go at it like rabbits while we were all asleep, so don’t get any ideas in your pretty braided head.”

“Kal!” Hera sounded horrified.

Sacmis’s smirk was challenging and satisfied at once, like the cat who ate the songbird and used its feathers as toothpicks.

“I see.” Zoe sat on Kalaes’ bed and prodded him lightly in the side with a finger. “Sounds like fun. Why don’t we do it, too?”

Kalaes pretended to swoon with shock. “I’ll show you my scars if you show me yours,” he breathed, gripping Zoe’s wrist. “How about it?”

“Sure.” Zoe’s smile was pretty, her teeth small and white. “What are these?” She trailed her finger on the side of Kalaes’ neck and down his side.

“They’re palantin scars,” he said. “I’ve got some nifty ones under my pants, too, if you’d like to—”

“Kal!” Alendra threw her pillow at him.

“Ale, don’t.” Elei sat up and grabbed her arm, his pulse rising. “His... I mean, he’s still...” Gods, he couldn’t even speak the words. His heart, he nearly shouted. His broken rib, he almost died, be careful.

She sobered instantly. “Are you okay, Kal?”

Kalaes threw the pillow back and it hit Elei in the chest. He fell back on the cot, the air leaving his lungs.

“Elei?” Alendra’s expression turned worried, but then he pulled her against him and her frown melted away. Her blond hair draped around his face, tickling his throat and chin.

“I have some marks of my own, if you’d like to see them,” she teased and he swallowed hard.

He wanted that. But didn’t want her to see his. He was covered in them and was too pissing scared she’d take a look and run.

“So let me get this straight,” Kalaes said, breaking the moment, for which Elei was grateful. “Hera, are you saying Gultur leave electrical fingerprints where they touch?”

“The skin on the fingertips of each one of us leaves a specific signature on anything we touch. We deposit a positive static charge along with pheromones and other chemicals. In the past, it served Regina to know when other hosts of her kind were in the vicinity. Somehow Rex has allowed Kalaes to see it.”

“And you knew about this all along?”

“It came up in a paper I read during my studies,” Hera said.

“Can you see it?” Kalaes tilted his head to the side.

“Nobody can. You’re the only person I know,” Hera admitted stiffly, glaring daggers at him. “I never thought it had any use.”

“Oh it does, trust me.” Kalaes wagged a finger in her direction and laughed, then clutched his ribs. “Ow shit. Okay, guys, this is the greatest gift Rex has given me. I’ll always know when you’ve dipped a finger in the cookie jar.”

Hera’s lips pulled in a reluctant smile. “There will be consequences for your actions, Kalaes Ster. I’ll remember this and make you eat shit for it.”

Eat shit? Elei arched a brow, wondering if Mantis had taught her that particular expression.

Sacmis winked, biting her lip, struggling to keep a straight face.

Kalaes was still laughing.

Epilogue

(After the kiss)

Elei stepped into their apartment and closed the door behind him with a soft click. He paused, leaning against it, taking in the common room with its long table and black nepheline chairs. Waited. Rex didn’t stir, didn’t tense his muscles, but that wasn’t surprising. Hera and Sacmis were out a lot.

Then again it didn’t hum along his nerves either.

Kalaes wasn’t in. Alendra either — her familiar, fresh smell was absent.

He limped to the table, slid into one of the chairs and let his head rest on top of his folded arms. He’d taken a temporary job fixing machinery in an aircar factory. It was part time and it allowed him to help Kalaes and Alendra at the orphanage they were setting up.

He was tired. Tensions ran high in Artemisia, and he’d heard that the police were confiscating weapons because of all the killing going on. He shook his head. They’d have to confiscate the arsenal of the whole city if they wanted to make a real difference. They said that, in the East Sector, near the big Gultur Temple of Artemisia, the gangs demanded a toll to let you pass. Looked like the closer you were to the port, the worse the situation was. Good thing he worked in the Western Sector.

As it was, he’d barely dodged a brawl and then a knife-fight on his way back home.

Home. He smiled against his arm. Despite the political unrest and fights between Gultur, mortals and all the different factions — after a war, it wasn’t unexpected — he felt safer than he ever had in his life. It had been more than a month now since they’d moved to Dakru, and the elections of the Gultur and the mortal leader of the new, temporary government had rolled by with less violence than anyone had anticipated. Maybe they were all too tired of it, after all, too fed up with bloodshed. He hoped it was that, and not something else brewing below.

Mantis had called, talked about the new police force, the new laws, the new everything that was needed to make the Seven Islands safe. He’d talked about the teams exploring the underground tunnels and the caches. Had mentioned something about Hera giving him a bad copy of the map.

Hera had only smiled darkly and offered no reply. Alendra had suggested later that Hera hadn’t given the real map to anyone, not even Mantis, that she was wary of handing anyone such knowledge.

Elei approved.

And Alendra... Elei raised his head, touched a finger to his lips. She’d kissed him twice more, quickly and in passing, her lips hot, her breath cool. She’d hugged him and leaned against him, soft curves fitting perfectly to him, and he’d felt so good he hadn’t dared suggest doing anything else.

Whatever that was. He had a vague idea how sex went, but hadn’t done it before, or researched it.

Truth was, he was scared to jinx it. He hadn’t thought himself superstitious, but whenever he thought of losing what he had now, his chest clenched with apprehension. Having a family, having a home, had one undesirable side-effect he hadn’t foreseen: the fear of waking up and finding it had all been just a dream. Knowing hope, finding happiness and losing it seemed harder than never having it at all.

And wasn’t that ironic.

He rubbed the furrow between his brows. That wasn’t all. He remembered an echo of a dream, Alendra telling him that a kiss wasn’t enough, that what came after might destroy him, break his heart.

He shivered. Was it really so cowardly to try and be happy with what he had? Not to push anything?

He got up and went to pour himself a glass of water. Condensation formed on the surface, sluiced between his fingers. His body, though, wouldn’t let up, if his dreams were anything to go by. He’d woken up so many times with her image lodged in his eyes, her body as he imagined it to be beneath her clothes, his sheets sticky, his body thrumming.

Kalaes kept saying he needed to get laid. His body agreed wholeheartedly. The sounds that often drifted from Hera and Sacmis’ room across the hall didn’t help either.

To be so close to Alendra every day and not dare touch... He shook his head, shoved sweaty hair off his brow. Surely it was a sign of peace when he’d get so frustrated over something like this. A sign of wellbeing.

Or of a coward.

He stared at the water sloshing in his glass. Put it down on the counter. He had a roof over his head, food and water, and people who cared for him. Yeah, he’d accepted that, had come to believe it. Which brought him back to square one and that irrational fear of losing it all again.

Sometimes he wished Rex hadn’t reached a balance with telmion, that the parasite could render him reckless like it did when he was in danger, forcing him to take action.

Ah well. He touched the black marks of Rex on his neck, slightly raised like beads embedded under his skin, and shivered. Careful what you wish for...

Gulping down the water, he set the glass in the tiny sink and washed it. Then he headed to the bathroom. They had a shower, with warm water, of all incredible luxuries, and washing himself every day was one of those things he’d never thought he’d experience. Brushing his teeth, feeling okay.

He picked up his medicine from the cabinet on his way, took a swig of the bitter liquid, wiped his mouth. Just enough to keep the balance between Rex and telmion, to ensure that one of them didn’t go haywire, that he wouldn’t reach for his gun or vomit up his lunch.

He paused outside the bathroom to pull off his boots, and he shed his shirt and pants, then his socks and underwear on his way to the shower stall.

And then he stopped. Among the other luxuries, there was a full body mirror next to the shower. Usually he didn’t even glance at it, just brushed past, showered, and when he stepped out, the damn thing was so fogged up he couldn’t see his reflection. Thank the gods for small mercies.

But it was clear now, and with nobody waiting outside the door for their turn in the bathroom and his thoughts whirling, he stopped dead in his tracks.

His hand lingered for a long moment on the horrible scars on his thigh, followed the dents and dips of pink furrows and white masses of new skin, then crept up his chest to all the other scars there, the gunshot wounds, the marks of old diseases. Shifting slightly, he turned his arm, lips pinching at the ugly sight of more scars from bullets and the line of black dots spreading down from his neck to his shoulder. Gods, he was a mess. He didn’t even dare look at his back — more scars, and all the snakeskin...

Hells. Even if Alendra had got over her aversion to tel-marks, how would anyone look at this map of disfiguring scars and want to... do whatever it was people did between the sheets.

Sex. That’s what they do. Say it.

Biting his lower lip, he turned away, stepped into the shower, adjusted the nozzle. Right. Maybe it was good he’d had a look. Reminded himself exactly what he was afraid of.

Don’t trouble the waters. Everything was fine as it was.

He soaped, rinsed off and toweled himself dry roughly, intent on getting out of there as fast as he could. He headed to the bedroom he shared with Kalaes, pulled out clean clothes and dressed, running a hand through his wet hair.

Not for you. The words followed him as he hunted down a pair of clean socks and pulled them on, went out to find his discarded boots and shoved his feet into them, bending down to lace them.

You know the gods don’t like it when you keep asking for more. They’ve given you so much already. Don’t be ungrateful.

They were the voices of the monks who’d raised him at the factory, the voices of caution and fear.

Alendra is not for you.

***

A noise roused him. He blinked, lifting his head from his folded arms, struggling with heavy lids and broken images from a dream. He’d been walking along a cliff as huge waves crashed below. Pelia had been holding his hand, but then she’d shoved him and commanded him to fly, but fear didn’t let him do anything but fall.

He looked around the common room, raking his hands through his hair. It felt as if it had dried at odd angles. Gods, what time was it? He remembered sitting down to read the newsfeed, and being unable to concentrate. He’d disassembled and reassembled his gun. It never failed to calm him.

The sound came again. Someone was trying to open the door. It sounded as if they were fiddling with the lock.

Wary, his vision fragmenting into colors, he stood, picking up his Rasmus, and approached the door as if it were a rabid dog.

He took aim just as the door clicked and swung open on creaking hinges. A bright figure stepped through, a riot of red and orange flashing on the chest and head.

“Who’s there?” Elei grated, sighting down his gun.

A startled gasp, and the sound of something hitting the floor. “Elei?”

Oh crap. A second later — a second too damn late — the scent of sea breeze hit his nose and he lowered his gun. His face went cold, then hot.

Alendra. Hell of a way to scare off the woman who was... well, okay, already sort of scared of him. Possibly.

“Um,” he said, clicking the gun safety on. “Sorry.”

The colors still obscured her face, although now he could catch a glimpse of blond hair framing it. Damn you, Rex, step down.

“It’s... okay. Really.” Was that a hint of laughter in her voice, or was it barely contained anger? “I didn’t know you were back or I would’ve knocked. My hands were full, you see.”

He couldn’t see, dammit, not yet. “Full?” he ventured.

If only his heart would stop racing, but her scent didn’t help. The vague contour of her body sent his pulse thumping low in his belly and he gritted his teeth not to curse out loud.

Alendra sidestepped him — because he was still barring her way, right — and picked something up from the floor, moved to the table and deposited it there. “I passed by the market.”

“Food?” Gods, he sounded like an idiot. Irritably, he rubbed at his possessed eye, sighing when the pain in his head subsided and the colors began to fade.

“Yeah!” She grinned, gestured at the cloth bag Elei could now see sitting on the table. “Found ithi fruit, and egg cakes with honey, and...” She trailed off, gaze going intent. “Are you all right?”

“Hm?” Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the slender curve of her jaw, the arch of her throat, the sweet way her pale hair curled at her temples.

“You look tired. Is the work too hard?”

He shook his head, dispelling the images. “No. It’s fine, really. I... Is Kalaes coming?”

“He said he’d be a little late.” She turned to the bag and unpacked her buys. “I think he’s meeting someone.” She winked at Elei, her lips tilted in a mischievous smile as she set water boiling for tea. “A certain someone with a head full of braids.”

Zoe. Elei nodded, pleased for them.

Alendra spread out the goodies and poured herself a cup of herbal tea, filling him in about the orphanage and the kids they’d already brought in.

Elei ate a K-bloom, barely tasting it, her talk washing over him. How would it feel to splay his hands over her body, to cup her curves and inhale the scent right off her smooth skin?

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

He didn’t give a damn for other girls. Instead, he pined for Alendra, who, according to Hera, was “cute in a mousey sort of way” and who was part of his family now, and he really couldn’t lose that...

It really wasn’t fair.

“Elei, have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

Crap. And oh, double crap, he’d been staring at her breasts, hadn’t he? He averted his gaze, shifting uncomfortably on the seat. He toyed with a peeled fruit, popped it into his mouth. “Where are Hera and Sacmis?” His control was fraying and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You don’t remember? They’re at a meeting in Dakru City.” Alendra put down the cup of herbal tea she’d been cradling in her hands and gave him a stern look. “Okay. What’s up with you? Are you sick?”

“What? No.” His cheekbones burned.

“Then is something on your mind?” She tilted her head to the side. “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

“Help me chop the roots for the stew?” She shoved a box of yellow roots toward him.

Thankful for the distraction — and where in the hells was Kalaes when one needed his endless chatter? Oh right, with Zoe — Elei took the box and fished out a knife from a drawer.

He was chopping, focusing on shoving the cut pieces into a pile by the sink, when she came to stand right next to him to cut the meat she’d brought. Her fingers were small and delicate. He remembered them clutching a gun, holding down Kalaes; it seemed impossible now.

Oh gods, he wanted to kiss her again, and there went his resolve not to, right out the window. He wanted to cup her slender shoulders, touch her fine collarbones, slide down her blouse and—

“Shit.” He blinked down at his hand, blinked again at the blood dribbling on the counter. What in the hells?

She lifted wide eyes to his face, then grabbed a towel from a rack and gestured with it. “Give me your hand.”

He did, dazed. What had happened...?

Ah yes. He’d been thinking of undressing her and he’d damn well near chopped his finger off. Typical.

And idiotic.

She wrapped the towel around his finger and he pulled back his hand, twisting the cloth around his palm to keep it in place.

“Come here.” She tugged his arm and he followed, still reeling. She led him to their beaten-up sofa and pushed him down. He landed with a “oof” and stared when she sat down next to him.

She smiled. “I was hoping to be alone with you for once.”

“You were?” The fading afternoon light from the window made her hair look like a cold blaze, leaving her face in shadow.

She nodded. “I’ve been meaning to...” She bit her lip. “To talk to you.”

“What about?”

“This...between us.”

This. Kissing. Hugging. His heart pummeled his ribs as he waited for her to say more.

“Listen.” She wasn’t looking at him, and cold spilled into his chest. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. We could just forget it ever happened, if that’s what you want.”

Forget...? Whoa, wait. “Why?”

Her smile slipped. “I have a feeling you don’t want it.”

His throat was dry. He tried to swallow but couldn’t. “But why—?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You do everything you can not to be left alone with me.” Her shoulders were hunched. “Don’t you?”

Shit, she was right, and yet... He bowed his head, stared at the blood-stained towel on his hand. He could tell her she was right, that he hadn’t wanted it, that it was a mistake. Easier.

“So it’s settled,” she whispered. “I’ll get the stew going.”

But when she made as if to stand, he followed her in a sort of dim panic and grabbed her arm. “Please, stay.”

She sank back down and he leaned toward her, meaning to explain, but his mouth caught on hers, pressed against her soft lips, and he forgot what he’d meant to say or why.

Soft, and sweet, and his hands fitted over her shoulder blades, held on. She was pressing back, her lips moving over his, parting, and he was sinking, or maybe flying, he couldn’t tell.

Somehow he found himself laying her down on the sofa and bending over her. His heart hammered low in his belly. He lifted a hand to her face, propping himself on the other so he wouldn’t crush her, and kissed her again, his eyes closing.

Pleasure rippled down his spine, taking his breath, and he gasped, pulled back for air. Alendra’s eyes glittered in the fading light, bright against the flush of her cheeks. Elei buried his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, pressing his mouth to stop from whimpering out loud.

Oh gods, he’d never felt anything so good, and he couldn’t stop moving, touching... He moved his hand to Alendra’s throat, down to her breastbone, over the curve of one breast, and she sighed, her back arching. He raised his head, gazing on her face, caught by the way her eyes had slitted, her lips open to exhale.

“Ale...” He gulped, still moving against her, desperate to get closer.

“Don’t talk.” She wrapped her arms around him, sought his mouth with hers. “Kiss me more.”

With a soft groan, he obeyed, spread full length on top of her lithe body, feeling every rise and hollow, wrapping himself in her scent and the slightly salty taste of her skin, slipping a hand under her blouse, sliding down the strap of her bra, suffocating with the need to see her at last as he’d dreamed of her.

Her hands stroked his back, tugged and pulled, and cool air hit his spine. Her hands followed up, caressing his flanks, his ribs, higher up where he couldn’t feel them anymore, because...

“Damn.” He scrambled away and tugged down the hem of his t-shirt, all blood draining from his face, leaving him light-headed. “No.”

She sat up, her eyes hurt. “Elei?”

He pushed off the sofa, almost falling over as he found his feet. The blood-stained towel lay at the foot of the sofa. Gods, how did he let himself get so carried away? She’d touched the snakeskin, a few moments longer and she’d have seen it, the snakeskin, the scars, all of it.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” was all he managed to say, before he turned and left the apartment.

***

Alendra wasn’t there when he returned later. He didn’t know whether to be glad or devastated. He rubbed his arms, frozen to the bone, because of course he’d left without taking his jacket.

“Hey,” Kalaes said coming out of the bedroom, scaring him half to death. He held a glass and the whiff of strong alcohol hit Elei like a punch. “I got worried. Where were you?”

Elei shook his head. “Don’t worry, I was careful.” He’d learned it the hard way a couple of times already, and there was only so much the police could do.

“That right?”

“I had my gun, I checked every corner, and I went and sat at Min’s diner.”

Kalaes nodded, yet his lips twisted in a self-depreciating smile. “I wouldn’t be much of a brother if I didn’t worry, now, would I?”

It brought a spark of warmth to Elei’s cold chest. “Is there more of that?”

“This?” Kalaes fetched the bottle, held it out, winked. “Here you go, fe. Drown your sorrows. Follow my good example.”

Elei took the bottle, grabbed a glass from the rack and filled it up to the brim.

“Whoa. You’re serious today.” Kalaes perched on the counter and raised his glass. He saluted Elei and drank, squinting with watering eyes. “Here’s to peace.”

“To peace,” Elei said quietly and swallowed half of it in one go, then spoiled the effect by choking and coughing most of it up.

Kalaes was laughing. “Okay, fe, spill. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh come on. Too late for that. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Why don’t we focus on your sorrows.” Elei wiped his mouth and took his glass to the table, where he proceeded to sip at it more cautiously. He gestured with it. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

“Awh crap. Little brothers turning the tables on you. Not funny.” Kalaes took another swig. “You sure you wanna add my woes to yours?”

Elei nodded. His chest was warm now, and a fuzz was settling on his brain.

“Fine then.” Kalaes stared into the depths of his glass and frowned. “I, um...” He downed the rest of his drink, coughed a little. “Damn. Well, there was this girl who was supposed to help me clean up the place. I think she likes me. A lot. Stuck on me at work all day like a starfish. And then Zoe walked in.”

Elei tried to imagine the scene. “Shit.”

“So I made my move on Zoe, as I’d planned all along, and bang crash, ow in the jewels.”

Elei stared at him. “Zoe hit you?”

“Not physically.” Kalaes winced. “She used some choice words, though, and they were sharp.”

“Just for talking to the girl?”

Kalaes winced again, jumped off the counter and picked up the bottle. “Girl grabbed my ass and pasted herself all over me right before Zoe walked in. I know it looked bad, but I swear, fe, I was ambushed. I don’t even like that girl.”

“Sucks. Will you call Zoe?”

“In a while, I think.” Kalaes tapped the bottle neck and grimaced. “With the help of this baby. My heart’s broken but I’ll survive.”

There was something in his eyes, though, a hairline crack.

“This isn’t about Zoe.” The words escaped Elei’s lips and hung in the air, innocent and yet heavy. He ducked his head, cradled his glass closer. “Shit. Sorry, forget it.” He was wrong; it wasn’t innocent at all. It was a behemoth of a question, encompassing everything, and he held his breath, waiting to see how Kalaes would interpret it.

Kalaes threw him a quizzical look as he sat down at the table. His possessed eye flashed a pale blue. He said nothing for a while, twirling his glass between his fingers.

Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. “You’re right. I’m not drinking to find strength to talk to Zoe, although some good sex might have gotten my mind off things. Then again, imagine if I fell asleep with her and woke up screaming.” He snorted, not a happy sound. He looked at Elei through heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s Hera.”

“What about her?”

“I overheard her talking to Mantis on the telespeak before she left to Dakru City for the meeting. She’s...” Kalaes rubbed his eyes furiously. “She says she wants to lead the exploration teams underground.”

Cold washed through Elei. Go back down there? After they’d barely made it out alive? “And Sacmis?”

“Sacmis.” Kalaes waved a hand. “I bet she’ll go wherever Hera goes.”

Elei nodded. “That’s... not so good.” He swallowed hard, his emotions all jumbled up.

He’d thought... that it was all over, the fear and sorrow, but it seemed it wasn’t, not yet. He’d thought Hera would head the new government, but she’d passed it up. Had said she couldn’t. “It’s dangerous, you think?”

Kalaes shrugged and raised the bottle, lifting a questioning brow at Elei. Elei had barely nodded when he leaned across and refilled his glass. “Drink up,” he said.

And that stopped Elei cold. Because that could only mean one thing: more bad news was coming. “What aren’t you telling me?” he whispered, forcing his fingers to unclench before he broke the glass.

Kalaes shook his head and raised his glass. “To love,” he said, voice a little hoarse and none too steady, and took a swig.

How long had he been drinking? “Kalaes, what the hells is it?”

Kalaes gestured at Elei’s glass. “After you drink.”

Frowning hard, Elei took a sip. “How much have you had?”

“Not nearly enough. You didn’t tell me why you vanished and came back in the early morning hours.”

Elei blinked at the seemingly random change of topic. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kalaes banged his glass down on the table a little too hard. Liquor sloshed out. “Nothing for who? You?”

Elei flinched. “What—?”

“What about Ale?” Kalaes held him pinned with his gaze, his blue eye startling against the darkness of the other, and Elei had a brief moment of wonder; did he also look like that?

Then Kalaes’ words hit him. “What? Did something happen?” He pushed away from the table, knocking his glass over in the process, not that he cared. “Kal?”

“She’s all right.” Kalaes seemed to deflate as Elei stood over him. “Sit... sit down, fe, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Didn’t meant to...? Elei’s hands curled into fists. “Just tell me what happened.”

Kalaes nodded, pushed his glass away. “What would you give for Ale to stay?”

“Stay?” Elei took a step back. “What... she’s leaving?”

Kalaes nodded again. “She decided to go with Hera and Sacmis. She said — Just... just talk to her, fe.”

“What did she say?”

Kalaes winced. “She said you’re a bastard.”

Elei blinked. Ow. “I guess... she’s upset with me.”

“You think?” Kalaes rolled his eyes. “What did you say to her?”

“That I can’t... I couldn’t...” Elei slumped.

“You couldn’t what?” Kalaes’ eyes narrowed. “Did you two make out?”

Elei wasn’t sure if what they’d done was “make out”, so he shrugged.

“Dammit. And then you left?”

“We just kissed,” Elei said miserably, “on the sofa. I touched her neck, her shoulder...” His throat closed up and he stared resolutely into his glass.

“Hot damn.” Kalaes stood up and began to pace. “So what, then you said you couldn’t do it and left? Without an explanation?”

“I can’t... explain to her why, I might as well show her the snakeskin on my back. She’ll...” The words jammed in his throat. “She’ll run away,” he whispered.

Kalaes sat back down, rubbed his eyes, grabbed the bottle. “She’s running away, fe.” He poured them both another glass. “So, I’m asking you, what do you have to lose?”

***

The aircar convoy had set off toward Artemisia more than two hours ago, and the discussions they’d had with Mantis and the new government still buzzed in Hera’s head. It was odd, not driving, not shooting, not running.

Simply living. Thinking. Making decisions for a future that did not involve visions of death.

But that was not the only novelty. Her eyes strayed to Sacmis who sat by her side, her ash-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, silver strands brushing her slender jaw.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Sacmis was fiddling with her longgun and Hera watched her nimble fingers toy with the magazine and the settings.

Strange to think she had time to simply enjoy observing her lover. “What idea?”

“Exploration.” Sacmis sent her an exasperated look. “You have not heard a word I said, have you? Since we left Dakru City.”

“Well, I...” Hera’s face warmed. “I was distracted.”

Sacmis put down the gun and reached out for Hera’s hand. She winked, her gray eyes sparkling. “Are you saying I’m distracting you?”

“Maybe.”

Sacmis grinned. “Let me summarize, then. Why did you turn down the position? You never told me.”

As the head of the Gultur. A twin presidency, representing both mortal and Gultur, an attempt to cool the spirits and bring peace.

Hera tangled her fingers with Sacmis’. “I could not.”

“And why is that, hatha? Mantis thought you were the best candidate.”

“Mantis does not know me well.” Not like you do. “I do not have a mind for politics.”

“Really?” Sacmis’ brow scrunched up. “Why?”

“I am not a diplomat, Sacmis. You surely know that.”

Sacmis thought about it for a moment. “True,” she admitted, looking down at their joined hands. “You can never keep your big mouth shut.”

Hera cuffed her lightly on the head. “You are the one with the big mouth.” Big, pretty mouth. “I take action. I do not mince words. I say what I think. A head of the government should be careful. And Pandia seems capable enough.”

“You think?”

Yes, Hera thought so. She recalled the regal young woman who had shaken her hand and smiled. Mantis had vouched for her, said she’d worked with him from the start, that she was calm and moderate. That she would do just fine.

“Yes, I can see it now,” Sacmis said slowly, still looking down. “You, appearing on the newsfeed with your gun propped at your side, glaring, yelling at the people of Dakru to kindly extract their heads out of their asses and experience some goddamn peace.”

Hera started at the mental image. Oh gods, she would have. What a close call. If she’d accepted... She opened her mouth, then closed it.

Sacmis’ shoulders shook. What in the hells?

Sacmis was laughing.

Hera’s lips twitched. “Yes, well, now you see why. I’d probably shoot anyone who disagreed.”

“Oh you would.” Sacmis laughed out loud, grabbing Hera around the shoulders. “You’re wise as well as beautiful, senet.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere,” Hera said, trying to scowl and failing.

“Oh, Kalaes is good. He gave you a sense of humor.”

“I always had a sense of humor.” Hera licked Sacmis’ cheek, making her yelp. “It’s dry.”

“Like the slopes of the mountains,” Sacmis agreed.

Hera snickered.

It felt so damn good, holding Sacmis and not worrying about betrayal, about making a wrong decision that might get people killed or change the path of fate.

“It’s more than that, you know,” Hera said. “More than failing at diplomacy. I think... I’m done carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I cannot do it anymore.”

She could tell these things to Sacmis. Sacmis would not think her weak. Or if she did, she also thought her strong, contradictory as it might seem, and she was not running away.

“And what about the exploration?” Sacmis whispered. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Hera thought of the hive where people had been left asleep for hundreds of years. She thought of the strange underground garden with its unknown animals and plants. Of the endless miles of tunnels, of the weapons hidden below. Of the riches and the knowledge.

“Yes, I think it’s a good idea. I want to know. Always wanted. What is below. What is beyond. Where we came from. If there are more people out there.” Hera pulled Sacmis closer, inhaling her clean scent, relaxing. “Toppling the regime, finding peace, that’s the first step. We have been kept in ignorance for too long. But...”

Sacmis looked up. Her clear eyes were like mirrors, flecks of bronze floating on their surface. “But?” she prompted.

Hera gazed out at the fields the road meandered through. “But I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

In one week the first team was leaving. They’d try to repeat the journey Hera and her group had made, from the island of Ert down, to check the hive and the garden and everything in between. Rogue groups of Gultur might be roaming below. They’d go prepared.

“I feel I should be leading them,” she said, stroking Sacmis’ back. “I know the way. Most of it. And it’s like I have a rope around my neck, a leash, pulling me back there to know more.”

“It’s called curiosity,” Sacmis muttered. “You’re curious as a cat, Hera.”

Hera could not deny it. Curiosity called her back to the tunnels, but also a sense of responsibility. “Yeah.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

That was the problem. “I do not know.” Just a feeling that it was too soon. That she was needed here for a while longer. She remembered Elei squeezing her hand as he lay at the hospital, his words. We missed you. We love you.

And gods help her, she loved them, too, and had missed them beyond words when they’d been away.

***

Elei didn’t see much of Alendra in the next three days. In fact, he didn’t see her at all. He made up his mind to talk to her, but she was never there, as if she calculated her comings and goings to avoid him.

It worked.

He buried himself in the work and in fixing the orphanage. He only went home to shower and change, then headed back out, came back late at night to sleep. Hera and Sacmis were away again, having meetings out of town. Kalaes kept sending him worried looks, kept trying to draw him into a conversation, and Elei felt guilty for worrying him. After all, everything was okay. They were healthy, safe, fed and clothed and kept out of the cold.

And if Hera, Sacmis and Alendra wanted to leave and explore the underworld, it was their right. Not their fault he’d longed so much for a family he’d give up anything to have it. You couldn’t buy families, or force them to exist. He knew that.

For all the good it did him.

He was getting used to opening the door to an empty apartment, so the voices rising as soon as he went in that night startled him.

Hera and Sacmis sat at the table, Kalaes leaning back on the sink, arms folded over his chest. He couldn’t help a smile when Hera rose and gestured at him to join them.

“You look good,” she said and gave him a long, appraising look.

“He finally got some meat on those bones,” Kalaes chimed in, grinning. “A change from the skeleton look.”

The warmth was seeping into his cheeks, as it usually did when he had all pairs of eyes trained on him, boring holes into his skull. “Um,” he said. “You’re back.”

Sacmis snickered.

“So.” Elei tried to hide his shaking hands under the table. The world had a gray tint; a layer of sadness. “When are you leaving?”

“Leaving?” Hera plucked a K-bloom from a plate on the table. “You mean the exploration?”

He nodded, heart in his throat.

“In six days,” Sacmis said.

“Six days.” Shit. And he hadn’t even talked to Alendra yet.

“But...” Hera glanced at Sacmis, frowned. “Maybe not.”

“Maybe not what?” Kalaes asked.

“Maybe we’re not going,” Sacmis said, sweeping a strand of sandy hair behind an ear. Something glittered there. An earring?

“And Alendra?” Elei blurted.

Hera shrugged, uncomfortable. “She said she wanted to go.” She pursed her lips. “I haven’t seen her in some days.”

He swallowed hard. He was glad Hera and Sacmis might stay. He ought to be happy — or satisfied — even if Alendra didn’t stay. Something was much better than nothing, right?

“What’s with the earrings?” Kalaes drawled, crossing his long legs and tilting his head. He smirked. “They look like a matched set.”

Now that he said it, Elei noticed a similar earring — a design made of fine wire in the shape of a bird — in Hera’s ear.

Hera’s cheeks turned red. “This, um...”

Hera, at a loss for words. Elei couldn’t believe it.

“You can’t tell me this isn’t as it looks, not this time.” Kalaes’ grin reached his ears.

“Sacmis gave it to me,” Hera said, not looking at Sacmis.

“And Hera went and bought a similar one for me.” Sacmis looked happy, eyes glowing.

“Tokens of love.” Kalaes tsked and grinned. “It’s so sweet my teeth hurt.” He winked at Elei, who stared at the one, then the other, confused.

Elei ran a hand through his hair, a headache pounding behind his eyes. People did that. They bought each other... things. As tokens of their feelings. Well, now that he thought about it, Pelia had given him the gun, hadn’t she? Though he didn’t know if she’d meant anything with the gesture. The Rasmus had, after all, been given to him with the express purpose of opening Hecate’s box and finding out what lay underground.

Still... What if he gave Alendra a gift, too, as a way of telling her he wanted her to stay? He couldn’t spend much — his first salary had already been invested in fixing the orphanage — but maybe something small...

“Elei.” Hera leaned toward him, her sweet smell reaching him like a caress. “My friend.”

He tried to smile, but his eyes stung, and he just couldn’t. “I wish you luck with all you want to do,” he whispered. “And if you stay, I’ll be even happier. Because... because...” He clamped his lips shut, trying to regain his composure.

Hera took his hand, squeezed it. Her eyes were brilliant, colors shifting in their depths. “I want you to be happy,” she said, her voice soft. “Let us think about this some more. And...” She glanced at Kalaes who gave a slight nod. “Tell Alendra this as well. You rarely speak your thoughts and your feelings. Your feelings mean a lot to us.” She smiled then, and a light kindled in her gaze. “You mean a lot to us.”

He had to look away, but her hand stayed on top of his for a long while.

***

The next day he tried to catch Alendra on her way in or out of the apartment, but failed. He left later, came back earlier for his shower, waited as long as he dared before heading out to help at the orphanage.

Time was flying, and the day the exploration team was due to leave was almost there. That morning, he’d almost dropped a crate he was carrying at work, earning a good scolding from his boss, and on the way to the orphanage he’d almost got run over by an aircar in the main avenue because he was so lost in thought.

Kalaes was repairing a sink when he arrived at the orphanage. He straightened and wiped sweat off his brow with a grimy hand, leaving a black smudge.

“Good thing you’re here. I need to go out for a while and I don’t want to leave them alone.” Kalaes gestured at one of the rooms. Elei saw two small forms lying on the floor, wrapped in blankets.

“They’ve started to come in?”

“Yeah.” A small, rueful smile hovered at the corners of Kalaes’ lips. “Damn, I never thought I’d be doing this again.”

“Taking in strays?” Elei said quietly, his chest knotting up, because Kalaes had said he wasn’t taking any more strays, but he’d taken Elei, and he’d been to the netherhells and back because of it.

Kalaes sent him a startled look. “Well, yes, I...” His eyes narrowed. “Hey. About what I said back then...” He slung an arm around Elei’s shoulders. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat, but also of home, so Elei relaxed. “When we first met. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Don’t be. I only brought you trouble.”

“Not only.” Kalaes squeezed him once and let go. He ruffled Elei’s hair affectionately, the blue of his tainted eye luminous. “I don’t regret it for one moment.”

It made Elei smile, despite himself. He patted his pocket, as he’d been doing all day. He’d bought a small bundle of her favorite tea herbs. She seemed fond of the stuff, kept drinking it. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with that as a present — although he’d been known to go wrong. Way too often. “Where’s Alendra?”

“She’s out buying a couple tools I need to fix this place.” Kalaes blinked at Elei. “For the sink and the bathrooms. I have to go and help her carry the stuff.”

Gods, Kalaes looked tired.

“I’ll go. You’ve got work here.”

Kalaes shrugged. “Haven’t slept so well lately,” he admitted. “All right, you go. Just be careful. It’s down the Temple Avenue, in the East Sector, at the corner with Cory’s clothes shop. Big sign, you won’t miss it.”

“Okay.” East Sector. It rang a bell, but his memory remained blank no matter how he prodded it. “See you later.”

Elei took an old bus that creaked across the city, rolling on giant wheels along dark streets, occasionally lit by front stores where customers bustled, or the burning tip of the cigarette of some bum. Street kids still ran about, scrawny and dirty. Soon. Soon they’d start gathering them, helping them.

Gods, he couldn’t wait to see Jek and Afia. He needed to see them, make sure they were all right.

The bus left him near the shuttered fish market. The East Sector reeked of sea offal and rotten seaweeds. A cold wind blew through his jacket but he barely felt the sting on his skin.

He heard steps behind him, and he drew his Rasmus, holding it loose yet ready in his hand. He had a knife in his belt he could use if need be.

The steps behind him slowed, then faded, and he relaxed a little, shoving the Rasmus back into its holster.

Why would Alendra decide to go back underground? He’d screwed up all right, but she could just move out of the apartment. Had she been thinking about it all along? She’d never talked of wanting to find out the origins of the world, like Hera had.

He thought back to his sudden departure, his words — “I’m sorry, I can’t” and what they might have meant for Alendra. He had no experience in such a situation. Had he really been a bastard? Had he hurt her? How could he show her he cared, that he wanted her to stay, without letting her see his marked back and scaring her to death?

How could he make it up to her?

After a couple of wrong turns, he entered the long Temple Avenue. The monstrous construct stood at its end, square and sinister, half-lost in the ghostly ribbons of a gray mist that rolled in from the sea. He started toward it.

The small present burned a hole in his pocket. Was it a stupid idea? Would she be offended by something so cheap? He slowed, apprehension a stone around his neck. Damn, this was ridiculous. He’d mocked death so many times with her at his side. Being afraid to talk to her, explain, why was it so difficult? He drew a long breath of cold, stinky air. He could do this.

The sign of Cory’s clothes shop flashed erratically, its letters huge and yellow, rising above the gathering mist like the lights of a ship.

He bumped into someone who cursed and shoved him off. He turned to see where they’d gone, and he was shoved from behind. Staggering on his aching leg, listing to one side, he turned, only to be pushed sideways. Dammit, how many were there? A silhouette rose from the fog, holding a knife, and hands pawed at his belt. His gun! He grabbed it, drew it.

“Back off.” Rex screeched inside his head, and he saw red-tinged human forms closing in from either side. He trained his gun on one, then the other, caught in a bubble of silence accentuated by the clipped beats of his heart. Steps behind him, and he turned, sighting down the barrel at another two people. “Leave me alone. I’ve got nothing to give you.”

Laughter behind him, hoarse and male, then a boot smashed into his leg. The Rasmus flew from his hand, clanking to the concrete a second before his knees and hands slammed down, surprising a yelp from his throat. The men crowded him, crimson flashes in the fog. A kick in the ribs left him gasping. He curled on his side, trying to breathe, and found he’d fallen on top of his Rasmus, though what he hoped to do with it against four men wasn’t clear in his mind.

He saw a boot coming at his face and rolled the other way, grabbing his Rasmus and getting to his knees. Dammit, he’d never let any gang surround him like this. He’d always been careful. He was... distracted. Lips thinning, he took aim at the man in front of him, but a kick to his hand sent the gun skittering away.

Elei bent over, cradling his hand, his heart thudding. Shit. He threw himself toward his gun, but someone kicked it away.

Heart sinking to his feet, Elei looked up at the barrel-chested man and swallowed hard. Out of luck.

“Hey!” A girlish voice startled him, and the man froze in the act of lifting his foot to kick again.

Elei knew that voice. “Ale?”

Alendra came out of the mist like a vision from a dream, eyes narrowed, a gun in each hand, both cocked and ready. “Get away from him or, may the gods forgive me, I’ll shoot you all and leave you to bleed to death in the street. I mean it.”

Swallowing his shock, Elei scrambled to his feet, swaying crazily, before his weak leg straightened and took his weight. Rubbing his aching ribs, he limped toward her.

One of the men swore. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Don’t move.” Alendra shot the concrete next to the man’s booted feet, making him cry out in fear. “Or I’ll take better aim.”

Gods, the way her eyes glittered with rage — on his behalf — was beautiful. He wanted to hug her and never let go. She wore a backpack, stuffed to bursting. The tools Kalaes wanted.

“Idiot”, she snapped, but he thought her eyes looked worried. “Don’t you know any better than to walk here with your head in the clouds?”

He did know better. Dammit.

“Come on.” She held his Rasmus, and that explained why she had two guns. “We should get going.”

***

Elei offered to carry the backpack; after all that was what he’d supposedly come for, but she shook her head and handed him his gun instead.

“How are the ribs?” She jumped up the steps into the bus and frowned as he dragged his aching leg up.

He curled an arm around his middle and tried to catch his breath. He’d have a lovely bruise down his side, black and blue. “I’ll live.”

All seats were taken, so they stood among bodies reeking of sweat and swayed to the movement of the bus, their arms brushing each other from time to time. She didn’t move away. Maybe she wasn’t so pissed with him.

Or maybe there wasn’t space for her to move away.

He looked out of the window and started. “Where are we going?”

“Home.” She threw him a quizzical look. “Didn’t Kalaes tell you? I was to bring the stuff home and we’ll take them to the orphanage tomorrow.” She frowned. “Why didn’t he come?”

“Busy.” Elei pressed a hand to his ribs. He didn’t think they were busted, but they still were badly bruised.

“What were you thinking of, ambling along like that in the goddamn East Sector?” She fairly buzzed with anger. “What was so important that—”

“You.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed. “What about me?”

“I’m sorry I screwed up, and I don’t want you to go. I like you and I’ll explain why I left, I’ll explain everything.” He stopped to breathe. “Don’t go underground,” he said, feeling a little faint. “Please don’t go.”

Her eyes were wide and her mouth still hung open. He would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel like he was hanging over a precipice, buffeted by an icy wind.

“Let’s get home,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Then we can talk.”

The ride seemed to last forever. They trudged through the empty streets to their building, gun on the ready, and up the endless stairs. Alendra unlocked the door and led the way, dropping her backpack on the table.

“Okay,” she said, “let me have a look at those ribs.”

He backed away. “I’m fine.”

“Why do you keep running away from me?” She sounded exasperated and close to tears. “Look, I know I wasn’t the nicest person when you met me, but I thought we were over that.”

“We are.” He licked dry lips. “You’re nice.”

She bowed her head. “Did you mean those things you said on the bus?”

“Yeah. Hell yeah.” His hands were clenched. He tried to open his fists. Desperately, he licked his lips again and tried to explain. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize what I was doing when I left the other night.”

“Why did you leave?” Her lips trembled and all he wanted was to take her in his arms, but he knew that talking was important. Kalaes had said so, and Kalaes was usually right.

“I was afraid you’d see...” He gritted his teeth.

“See you naked?”

“Yes! No.” Why in the hells couldn’t he say it? “Ale... You hate snakeskin.”

“I’m used to it now. I see it on your face every day. It’s part of you.”

It didn’t make it any easier. “Ale...” Gods, he wanted to scream and smash something. “Please stay.”

“You really want that?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. No doubt. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Then let me have a look at your ribs.”

He flinched back, coming short against the wall. “Not fair,” he whispered.

“I thought you were going to explain to me what happened the other night. Why you left.” She took a step toward him, eyes thoughtful.

“What does it have to do with you staying?” Desperate.

“I need to know why you can’t. Can’t be with me. Can’t lie with me.”

Oh hells. “It’s not that,” he said miserably. “I just can’t... can’t show you my body.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll freak out.”

She was silent for a beat, her golden eyes huge. “What’s wrong with your body?”

There was no escape, was there? No way to avoid it. “It’s snakeskin. It’s horrible.” He swallowed hard, but the obstruction in his throat wouldn’t ease. “I bought you something.” He drew the small package of tea herbs from his pocket. “’S nothing much. Just...” He held it out. “Take it.”

She did; her fingers small and delicate as she unfolded it. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes widened when she saw the herbs. “You bought me a present.”

He nodded. “I know it’s not much, but, Ale... Won’t you stay?” He could barely talk, his throat was clogged. He’d managed to keep it together through it all — the aftermath of Pelia’s death and all the revelations about Rex and the underworld, Kalaes’ rescue and near madness, the trip through the nether hells and then blowing up Bone Tower — typical that he should break down over something as small as Alendra leaving.

It’s not a small thing, a voice whispered in his mind. Not small at all.

“Shh.” She came up to him and put her arms around him. He clung to her, feeling tears roll down his face. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

“But you said you’d go.” He choked.

“I didn’t mean it.” Her hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. “I was upset. I heard Hera say they were going and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I never really wanted to go back down into the earth.”

He was so relieved he felt dizzy. He held onto her slim body, inhaling her freshness. “You’re staying.”

“I’m staying.” There was a smile in her voice. “I really do like you too, you know.”

Oh gods, to be weeping like a child in her arms — as if this wasn’t going to get embarrassing enough, but he was beyond caring. She was staying, and he’d do anything for that, anything. Yet... “You still haven’t seen my back.”

She pulled back, small face pale and serious. She was slightly shorter, her lips level with his chin. Leaning in, she kissed it, then his cheek. “I said I won’t run.”

The door clicked. Kalaes was probably back. Elei passed his arm over his face hurriedly. “You won’t?”

She smiled brilliantly and shoved the small package of tea into her hip pocket. “I promise I won’t run if you don’t.” She winked. “At least not without an explanation.”

“I promise,” Elei said solemnly as Kalaes stepped into the apartment. “Never again.”

***

“I’m so glad you’re not leaving, Ale,” Kalaes said, his voice earnest. He glanced at Elei. “Looks like the two of you made up.”

Alendra hid a smile behind her cup of tea, but her eyes danced. Elei couldn’t help staring at her, thinking of what she’d said, and despite her assurances he still feared. Feared she’d run.

Kalaes looked from Alendra to Elei for what seemed like the hundredth time, his smile slipping, brows drawing together, shadowing his gaze. “Are you sure you’re all right, fe?”

Elei realized he’d wrapped his arm around his ribs again, and hurriedly put it down. “Yeah, fine.”

“You move like you’re hurt.”

Elei shook his head. He’d never been better. He couldn’t help wondering what would’ve happened if Kalaes hadn’t arrived when he had, and a shiver raised the fine hairs on his arms.

“Any trouble getting the tools?” Kalaes asked, before swallowing a slice of blue algae bread almost whole.

“No problem.” Alendra lowered her mug. “What about the children you had sleeping at the orphanage?”

“Two more came in.” Kalaes washed the bread down with water, wiped his mouth. “Soon we’ll need to move in. I’m trying to fix the rooms at the back for us.”

“Any word on funding?” Alendra asked.

Elei leaned back in his chair. He didn’t have any experience with raising children, but Kalaes had insisted that, once the three floors of the orphanage were full, they wouldn’t have much time for work.

A thrill of trepidation shook him. He’d wanted this, had promised Afia to do it, and had been sure that was what he was meant to do. He’d never stopped to think about the practical side of it, the problems and lack of support. The new government was still in the works, and the situation might take a long time to stabilize. For now, they were pretty much on their own.

Kalaes’ casual shrug only confirmed his fears. “Not yet. Hera and Sacmis are pressing for money, and Mantis promised to find something for us, but until things settle...” He frowned.

“What about Jek and Afia. When are they coming?” Elei longed to see them. He felt he wouldn’t relax until he met them again and showed them the orphanage.

“Soon. I heard they were waiting until the roads were safe.” He cast Elei another dark look. “I also heard the police were declaring an emergency alert in the East Sector because of the many killings. Are you sure you didn’t see any of that?”

Elei looked at Alendra and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to pile up more worries on Kalaes’ shoulders.

Alendra sighed.

“You keep asking about me,” Elei said. “How about you? How are you handling Rex? Is palantin really in check?” He took in Kalaes’ pale face. “You look awful.”

“It really warms my heart to be complimented like that,” Kalaes muttered, arching a dark brow. “I’m okay. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“You drive yourself too hard,” Alendra said softly. “When did you last have a restful night?”

Kalaes only shook his head, ran his fingers through his tousled hair. He stood up, then sat back down, as if he wanted to do something but couldn’t make up his mind.

“Kal?” Elei was getting worried. “What’s the matter?”

The key turned in the lock and the apartment door swung open. Hera and Sacmis walked in, wearing long coats over their gray suits.

“Is this a family reunion?” Sacmis asked, sounding amused.

Elei shook his head, waiting for Kalaes’ reply.

“Nothing. I...” Kalaes sighed. “It’s Zoe. She won’t let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Hera’s dark eyes narrowed.

“I sorta got caught with a girl’s hands on my ass,” Kalaes muttered.

“Sorta?” Hera glared as she took a seat at the table.

“It wasn’t like that, okay? That girl actually grabbed my ass, fe, without asking, and Zoe chose that moment to walk in. She won’t answer my calls, won’t open the door, and I...”

“You’re in love with her,” Sacmis said softly.

“Yeah.” Kalaes dragged the bottle of liquor toward him, hesitated. Come to think of it, Elei couldn’t remember a night since they’d arrived in Artemisia that he’d seen Kalaes without a drink in his hand.

Did he drink himself to sleep every night? Dammit. “It’s not that bad, Kal. You two will make up.”

“Well, it’s not just Zoe. Last time I had kids under my care, I screwed up, got them killed. I can’t help this feeling that it will be the same this time.” Kalaes gripped the bottle. “Between those memories, the trip in the netherhells and back, it’s the only thing that can help me sleep at all.”

Shit. “What about sleeping pills?”

“They make things worse. They put me under so deep I can’t wake from the nightmares, and when I do wake up...” He shuddered. “It’s as if I spent the whole night running.”

“Listen to me.” Elei waited until Kalaes looked up. “You’re not in this alone, okay? I’m the one who promised to do this. The orphanage is my responsibility. We’ll do this together. You don’t have to hold the world on your shoulders, Kal.” It was funny watching Kalaes’ eyes widen. “I mean it.”

“You’re...” Kalaes swallowed hard. “Talking too much, fe. Your facial muscles will hurt tomorrow.” But his eyes were bright.

“I’ll talk to Zoe,” Alendra said. “And don’t forget you saved Elei, time and again.” Her small face was serious. “Never forget that. Tell it to your self every night before you go to sleep. We went to the netherhells and came back. We are all here, all fine.”

She was giving him a mantra, a weapon to fight the nightmares. Would it work?

Silence lapped at the table legs, rose like a wave, drowning them, but it also felt familiar and warm. A silence full of memories.

“Well, then.” Kalaes got to his feet and flashed them a faint smile. “Doesn’t hurt to try, I guess.”

Elei thought he might give it a try himself.

***

The next day Elei barely saw Alendra, running from work directly to the orphanage only to be redirected by a fresher-looking Kalaes to start painting the second floor. A troupe of children brushed by him on the way down, squealing and laughing. He stared after them, his mouth hanging open.

It was real. It was happening.

Shaking off his amazement, he made his way down and spent long hours painting the walls an anti-mold white. The big roller did the job quickly, but his ribs were killing him and he often had to stop to rest. At some point he thought he heard voices downstairs, but he wasn’t sure. He was almost falling asleep on his feet when Kalaes came down.

“I got a call,” he said, a grin up to his ears.

“Let me guess.” Elei smiled and had to stifle a yawn that threatened to crack his jaw. “From a certain braided girl?”

Kalaes laughed and clapped his back. “Yeah. A certain gorgeous braided girl wants to meet me tomorrow and I’m planning to take the day and the night,” he winked, “to show her how much I appreciate it.”

Elei snorted, and damn if he wasn’t yawning again.

“Time for bed,” Kalaes announced and Elei followed him out, no energy left to speak. Back at the apartment, he looked into the girls’ room and found Alendra fast asleep, an arm dangling over the side of her bed.

He turned away with a smile and fell face-first onto his mattress, barely aware of Kalaes stripping and crawling into the other bed.

Elei fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

And plunged into dreams where he flew and fell and flew again, tumbling in blue depths, among bubbles and fish and strange lights.

He came awake with a start in the middle of the night. Voices. He propped himself on his elbow and rubbed his face roughly. Kalaes was fast asleep, snoring softly, a dark shape under the blankets.

The voices rose again, and Elei recognized Hera and Sacmis. He slipped out of bed and padded to the hall, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He was curious but also worried. Why were they having a discussion so late?

“It needs to be sweet,” Hera was saying, her voice brooking no argument. “That’s how it’s done.”

“But he cannot have sweet,” Sacmis said mildly, “not now.”

“If not now, then when? It will be his first. I want him to enjoy it. I want it to be good.”

“It will be. It’s not like he has something to compare it to, is it? Therefore it does not need to be the same everyone else has.”

“Kalaes will tell him.”

“Then threaten Kalaes with lashing if he tells.”

“Oh I will, trust me.”

Elei stood at the door, utterly mystified, his mind still fuzzy. “Hera?” he whispered. “What’s going on?”

Hera started and turned around. She was smiling and her face was flushed. “Apologies. I did not mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay.” He wandered to the table and sat, yawning. A bottle stood in the middle of the table with glasses. He sniffed. “Liquor?”

“We’re celebrating,” Sacmis said, lifting her glass, grinning.

“What then?”

She shrugged. “Peace?”

“I’ll drink to that.” He grabbed the bottle and poured himself some of the clear liquid. “To peace.”

They clinked glasses and drank. Elei’s eyes watered. “Is this Kalaes’ bottle?”

“Yeah.” Hera nursed her drink. “In peace and war we share everything.”

Sacmis laughed.

Elei lifted a brow. “So what’s this about?”

“Persistent,” Sacmis observed.

Hera slung an arm around his shoulders and whispered conspiratorially, “As if she has only now noticed.”

Elei snorted and sipped his drink. “I’m in good company.”

He was, he thought. In excellent company.

“We have decided to stay,” Hera said, her dark eyes filling with colors.

Elei put the glass down, a shiver going through him. “Hera...”

“I was not sure I wanted to go,” she said. “I do not want to leave you, all of you. I will supervise the operation, of course. From afar. Sacmis agrees.”

Sacmis nodded, toasted them and drank.

Elei turned toward Hera and her other arm came around him, hugging him. “We’re a family,” she whispered. “You’re my brother. I wish to stay.”

He nodded against her shoulder, her sweet scent familiar. Rex did not even stir. “Family.”

“I wanted a little brother years ago,” Sacmis said, and joined them, her arms going around both. “It was my rebellious phase.”

“Which never ended,” Hera rumbled.

“I want in, too,” a low voice said and he looked up to see Alendra, her pale hair tousled and her face soft with sleep.

They made room for her, and she snuggled close to Elei, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He couldn’t speak. He pressed his lips together, trying to contain the huge joy bubbling inside his chest. Warm, dark, sweet. Safe. Loved.

Sacmis started to pull back, the embrace loosening, when an amused voice spoke from the doorway.

“Why is it I always miss out on all the fun?” Kalaes leaned on the doorjamb, arms folded over his chest, his hair sticking out. His dark eyes were bright with something more than mischief; something like longing.

“Then why don’t you join in?” Alendra asked, barely above a whisper.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, a slow grin spreading on his face, and when he came over, his strong arms enfolded them all.

***

“Do you think Elei has figured out what we’re planning?” Sacmis asked, snuggling closer to Hera on their bed. “How long was he standing at the door, listening?”

“I’m sure he has no idea.” Hera molded her body to Sacmis’ lithe curves and sighed in pleasure. “Would never imagine anything like it.”

“That’s sad,” Sacmis murmured, kissing Hera’s neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Everyone should celebrate life.”

“Hm. I think Alendra will help him celebrate tomorrow.”

“Hera.” Sacmis laughed, her warm breath tickling Hera’s throat. “You naughty woman.”

“What? All I did was explain to her a few things. You know, sex is natural but it’s so much better when you know what you’re doing.”

“Marvelous.” Sacmis grabbed Hera’s chin and leaned in for a kiss. “Will you teach me, too?”

“Pay close attention,” Hera whispered, “and I’ll teach you everything.”

***

The next gruesome morning was spent painting walls and moving furniture. Elei was wiping sweat from his face when Kalaes came to tell him he was meeting with Hera and Sacmis. Fundraising for the orphanage. Hera had an idea they’d need to lobby the new government.

“I’d ask you to join me,” Kalaes said, “but afterward I’m meeting with Zoe and I’ll be staying over. So it crossed my mind you might like some time alone with Ale.” He winked.

Unable to deny it, Elei gave him a grateful smile that made Kalaes laugh out loud.

“Gods down below, you’re so smitten.” Kalaes shoved a small package in Elei’s hands. “If you make out, use this, okay? You’re too young to have kids of your own, especially with all the orphans you’ll be taking in... And better be safe than sorry with Rex. I don’t think you can transmit it like that, but until we know more...” He shrugged.

Elei turned the small, flat package in his hands. He had a vague idea of what it was. Kalaes was right. He should’ve thought of this himself, but somehow his imagination had never made it this far. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“Follow the instructions on the package.” Kalaes patted him on the back. “She’s a cool girl, fe. Whatever problem gets between you, talk it over, okay? Don’t keep it all inside.”

Elei nodded, shoved the package in his back pocket and said goodbye to Kalaes. Finished up his work, cleaned up, made sure the few kids already staying there were okay. The oldest seemed to be about his age — a strong boy called Met. Met promised to make sure the door was locked, the windows closed, that he’d look after the other kids until the next day.

He walked to the bus stop in a daze. Alone with Alendra. The package seemed to weigh as much as an ocean in his pocket and the way home took a year or two.

He unlocked the door and entered the apartment, and she sat there, at the table, smiling. Everything else faded.

She stood and came to him, slipping her arms around his neck, pressing her warm lips to his throat. Breath catching in his throat, he put his arms around her waist and kissed her brow until she looked up and their lips met.

His muscles were unclenching, his bones melting, his whole body wrapping around her slender form. The apartment — quiet, the afternoon stretching ahead of them like a journey.

He kissed her slowly, carefully, tasting herbal tea and sweetness. She twined her fingers in his hair and tugged lightly, startling a gasp out of him. Her tongue swiped against his lips, teasing, and his whole body hummed with pleasure. He pressed her against the table, then jerked back when she twitched in his arms. Afraid he was crushing her, he stepped back, but she followed him until he fell against the kitchen counter.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be.” Breathless, he reached up, brushed a golden wisp of hair from her eyes; it felt soft like silk, and he trailed his fingers over the fine shell of an ear and down her slender jaw to her throat where her pulse beat in rapid bursts. She was so small, so strong, and so very beautiful.

His chest pressed against her whenever he inhaled, against the softness of her breasts. He wanted to tear off her thin t-shirt, her bra, to look at her and hold her skin to skin, to trace every curve and kiss it — and the fear returned when her hands stole under his shirt and caressed his lower back.

“Ale...”

“Shh.” She kept smiling, a softness in her eyes. “Don’t run away. I want to be here with you.”

He took a deep breath, told his heart to be calm. “I want to be with you, too.”

“Show me,” she murmured, drawing back, giving him space, and he didn’t have to ask what she meant. His back, the snakeskin, all that could turn the warm look of pleasure in her gaze into cold disgust.

But how could he refuse now, after promising not to run?

His ribs hurt like a bitch when he shrugged off his jacket and pulled up his t-shirt. She helped him, tugging it off and turning him around, and his heart beat so hard it might break out of his chest. He stood, head bowed, hair tickling his closed eyes, shivering in the ringing silence.

It was cold in the apartment, and his muscles cramped, but he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak. There was the squeak of Alendra’s boot on the linoleum floor, the sound of her uneven breathing — catching, then starting again, harsh — the feel of her small hand on his spine, moving higher, between his shoulder blades where he could hardly feel it, the snakeskin covering his skin all the way to his shoulders.

“It’s... there’s so much of it,” Alendra breathed, and his heart sank. He waited while she explored its expanse, the ghost feeling of her fingertips teasing his consciousness when she reached his arms or his lower back. “You were sick with it for a long time, weren’t you?”

He nodded.

Her fingers stilled. “And these shapes?”

“Cronion.” He cleared his clogged throat. “I had cronion before Rex. It stopped telmion, saved my life.”

“And these...” She pressed against something high on his back, then walked around and stood before him. Frowning, concentrating, she placed her hands on two spots on his chest: the bullet wounds. “You have many scars.”

Matter-of-fact. Neutral. Stating the truth. “Yeah.” He was there, exposed for her to see, every scar, every step in his story imprinted in his flesh.

“You survived it all.” Her hands trailed up his arms, rested on his shoulders. “You’re a fighter.”

She was pressing closer and all he could think was that she didn’t seem about to run.

“You’re okay with it, then?” he whispered.

“Elei...” She said against his lips, “You’re really cute.”

“Cute.” He pressed closer, his eyes closing. “Like Cat?”

“No. Like a man.”

He snorted and kissed her, because what else could he do when he had her in his arms, warm and smiling? Willing and unafraid.

Her small hands on his hips, she nudged him toward the bedroom. “I want to see the rest.”

The what? He stumbled backward, through the open door and into her bedroom where she slept alone. “The rest of the snakeskin?”

“The rest of you.” Still holding his hips, she swung him around so she was backing onto the bed, pulling him along. “And maybe you’d like to see the rest of me?”

His throat closed with fear and desire. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. Oh gods, yeah, he’d love that.

She sat on the bed and hooked her fingers in the pockets of his pants, tugging down. Her eyes glinted golden. “It’s okay. We’re alone.”

Right. And now that they were alone, he feared he’d ruin it. Because he had no clue what to do. Oh gods, so ironic. To come this far and blow it. He laughed softly.

“What’s so funny?” She tugged harder and he lost his balance, toppling over her.

He managed to put his hands on either side of her head, avoiding crushing her, and his laughter died when she looked up through her pale lashes. Made of rippling light and shadow, creamy planes and fantastical curves — she was unknown territory, mysterious as the sea.

She arched up and kissed him, breaking his thoughts, and he dipped his head lower, groaning when her lips grazed his cheek, his temple. It felt so good. When her fingers slipped under the waistband of his pants, pulling them down, he rolled by her side, unsure his arms would hold him any longer. Trailing his mouth over every inch of exposed skin he could find, tasting, his fingers slipping under her blouse, exploring. Knowing her. Skimming over her ribcage, feeling the beating of her heart, over the swell of her breasts.

So different. So addictive. He lifted her blouse and she helped him pull it up.

“My turn to show you my scars,” she whispered, breathless, and he wanted to see. Everything.

She was beautiful. Flawless, smooth like moonstone, liquid, flowing and glowing. If she had scars, he couldn’t see them, blinded by her symmetry, her perfect mirroring of him. He fit faultlessly against her every mound and hollow. He needed her; ached with it.

Didn’t know what to do. How to sate the need. How not to hurt her.

But she seemed to know. She rolled over him, kissed him long and deep until he sobbed for air, for her, for something he couldn’t describe. Her fingers traced the ugly scars on his thigh and hip, found the snakeskin behind his legs and stroked lightly. She nodded, as if she’d been wondering about something and her question had now been answered.

Still she didn’t run. Again she smiled. She touched him, sliding her hands over his ribs, down his hips, lower. Gods, he wanted... he needed...

“Need you,” he panted. In every way. Every day. Close. Closer.

Too much, it was too much. A wild fantasy, having her there, a dream come true.

Not a dream.

Her pale hair slid forward as she bent to kiss him again, take away his breath. She was rolling something on him — the protection Kalaes had given him that he’d carried in his pants back pocket, and how she’d known that...?

Then she lowered herself, enveloping him, and he’d been right, they fit perfectly, exquisitely together.

“I love you,” she murmured. “You’re in my heart.”

The words shot through him like fire, the pain sweet, overwhelming. His head fell back, the pleasure too great, too deep, the joy too enormous to contain. His body vibrated, made of thin glass, about to shatter. But maybe that was all right, because his heart had been broken and then made whole again. “Gods, you have no idea...” he whispered. “No idea how much I love you.”

More than he could ever explain.

***

Evening had fallen, grey mist and rolling darkness, when Alendra dragged him out of the apartment. He hadn’t wanted to move, content in her arms, on the bed, mapping new territories on her body, but had followed her anyway.

He felt drunk. The world glowed, even in the darkest streets, and it wasn’t the pulsing colors Rex brought out when in danger.

It was as if his gaze skimmed over the shadows and latched on to the brightness of the city — the flickering multicolor store signs, the pools of yellow light under the street lamps, the lit windows of the taller buildings streaming white radiance.

“Where are we going?” he muttered, letting her pull him by the hand, limping down the street. His body tingled pleasantly, his mind floated.

She said nothing, tugging on the straps of her backpack, and it didn’t matter, he thought, as long as she was near. Her touch, her closeness, combined with what they’d done — with what she’d said and the fact she was staying — meant he grinned for no reason.

A little girl gaped at him, hanging on her mother’s hand.

He laughed quietly, then sobered up and pulled on his hood, just in case. Had to remind himself peace needed time to take root, and he had to be careful.

He’d take care of the children. He’d keep his promise. Though one orphanage wasn’t going to change the face of the world. They needed more.

The children needed more. He hoped Afia and Jek were okay, that their gang hadn’t suffered during the battle. That they were safe. Hera told him that when Dakru City fell, the street kids attacked the headquarters of the regime in every city, Teos included.

Had something happened to them? Was that why they hadn’t arrived yet? Were his friends hiding some awful truth from him?

“Elei?” Alendra had stopped. “Wait here a minute? I need to buy something for the orphanage.”

He nodded, resisted briefly when she tugged away her hand, let go when she gave him a brilliant smile.

Lost some time staring at the way her narrow waist flared into slim hips, at the beautiful curve of her backside, then the door closed behind her. Bells jingled.

He glanced up at the flashing store sign and pulled his hood lower, suddenly chilled. He frowned. Liquor store? What in the hells was she going to buy there for the orphanage? If it was for Kalaes...

He scowled darkly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Kalaes seemed happier now that Zoe had forgiven him, though. Maybe the liquor wasn’t for him but for official visitors, potential investors visiting the orphanage.

Elei relaxed. He went to lean against the wall, keeping an eye on the passersby, his Rasmus a cold weight at his hip.

Alendra came out, her backpack bulging. “All done. Come on.”

“Where now?” But he couldn’t help smiling as she led him through brightly lit streets and between honking aircars. Everything seemed new, as if freshly painted and buffed to a shine, from the old buildings to the stars twinkling in the dark sky.

“There’s this place,” Alendra said, grabbing his arm when he started to cross the street, forcing him to hurry before the lumbering streetcar rolling toward them run him over. “I discovered it one day when I was running errands for Kal. You’ll see.”

All he could see was her face, her soft mouth, her creamy throat. Blinded. It was a miracle he hadn’t crashed into the asphalt because all he could see was her.

“This way,” she said and dragged him between two buildings, through a narrow alley. A cat hissed, a dog barked. Through the stench of sour piss and rotting garbage, he smelled the salty tang of the sea.

It was a balcony over the cliffs, a concrete terrace. A dingy food stall stood on one side, dark; abandoned. Seagulls hovered on wind currents — white ghosts — as Alendra tugged him to the edge, a low wall separating them from the void and the waves crashing below.

“Look”, she whispered and gestured at the sea.

A mass of misty lights rose from the darkness, far away and flickering. Too big to be a ship. It was...

“Ost,” he whispered. The island he’d come from. Where Albi had lived and Pelia had died. Where he’d been infected with Rex and made into who he was.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.

He nodded, not knowing what to say.

Yeah, it was beautiful, seen like this, like a haunted ship rising from the depths of the ocean. Bright and clean. Otherworldly. Who would have imagined the vast trashlands where he’d grown up, the rabid dogs, the endless slums with their reek of hunger, death and desperation. The distance erased the ugliness and left only the light.

He turned away, his heart squeezing in his chest. “I’d rather look at you,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse.

Her eyes flicked from the lights to his face. Then she nodded, as if she understood, and wrapped her arms around his neck. And kissed him, setting his blood on fire, and he could have laughed at how easy it was to get used to pleasure when it had taken him all his life to accept pain.

And it scared him how much he wanted the pleasure, the happiness, how addictive it was. He wanted Alendra’s arms around his neck, the warmth in her eyes when she looked at him. He wanted this to last, and having tasted it, he didn’t know if he could ever give it up again.

“What dark thoughts are you thinking again?” she murmured, kneading the back of his neck and he swallowed a moan. “What will it take to distract you?”

“I can think of a thing or two.”

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “I bet you can.” She drew back. “We should head home.”

He had no objection, home being where he could kiss her with no-one watching, where he could touch her and feel her bare skin again.

The streets they passed through were a blur, the only real thing in the world her hand clamped around his, the strength of her hold. He climbed the steps to the fourth floor in a daze, stood back as she fumbled with her keys and opened the door.

She turned and grabbed both his hands, winked and pulled him inside.

Into the dark.

Elei froze. Rex woke, hammering in the back of his eye, screaming inside his head. “Ale,” he gasped, wrenching his hands free, going for his gun. “Get down.”

“Relax, fe,” Kalaes’ voice came from the hall and a flame flickered, lighting up his wide grin. “Everything’s okay.”

“Kal,” a woman’s voice said. Hera? “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“He was about to shoot us,” Kalaes drawled. “That would have been a messy party, girl. Besides, I haven’t given it all away.”

Party? Elei blinked, his fingers clenching on the grip of his Rasmus. The hells?

“Come in,” Alendra said, slipping an arm around his hips, urging him forward. “Everyone’s here.”

“Everyone?” Elei’s possessed eye ached dully, and outlines flickered silver. Sacmis was there, sitting on the sofa next to Hera, and next to Kalaes stood a girl with long hair. Zoe?

But that wasn’t all. Seated on the floor, cross-legged, were smaller forms. His heart began to pound. “Who?”

“Oh crikey, turn on the lights,” Zoe said, laughter in her voice. “We want him to have fun, not a heart attack.”

“That’s not funny, fe,” Kalaes muttered. “Screw surprises.”

“Kal,” Elei snapped. “What’s going on?”

A giggle came from the forms seated on the floor, and small flames jumped from the table. Candles. A dark-haired little girl stood and turned toward him.

His heart lurched.

Oh gods, Afia. Elei disentangled himself from Alendra and opened his arms, a whimper locked in his throat. Afia launched herself at him and he lifted her in the air, making her squeal.

“You’re okay?” he whispered. “Where’s Jek?”

The blond boy approached, hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips. Elei put Afia down, knelt and slung an arm over both kids’ bony shoulders, not trusting his voice. He held them close, seeing in the trembling candlelight just how many children were there.

The hall was full. Some sat on the chairs, some had crawled under the table. Some rolled on the floor while others poked their heads through the doors to the bedrooms. Elei thought he recognized some of them.

Jek’s gang. Zoe’s gang.

Dain stood behind the sofa, his blue eyes apprehensive, but when Elei nodded at him he nodded back. Ifran, Zoe’s shy companion, was directing a group of small children toward the center of the room. They were carrying a box.

An indignant meow emanated from it.

“Cat?” Elei breathed, his eyes stinging, his hold tightening around the two kids. “Did you find him?”

The box was opened with great ceremony, and was brought to Elei.

A fuzzy black kitten sat inside, its eyes golden like Alendra’s.

He gulped down the crushing disappointment. Not Cat. He stood unsteadily and Hera was by his side, lending him a hand. “We could not find him,” she said gently. “He may come back some day.”

Elei nodded, shook his head. “What is this all about?” He gestured at the candlelit table that was laden with food. Alendra was stacking bottles of liquor, a concentrated look on her small face, the small children tugging at her pants.

“This, my man,” Kalaes said, throwing an arm around Elei’s shoulders, “is your birthday party.”

“I don’t have a birthday,” Elei said faintly.

“Well, mark the day because you do now.” Kalaes winked and waved at someone behind them.

“What are you doing?” Elei’s lips twitched, while his legs shook.

The children squealed and ran in circles around the table as Zoe brought a round pie decorated with red bush fruit and brown sugar. The smell made Elei’s mouth water.

“But I don’t...” He stared, dumbfounded, at the table, the kids, the decorations hanging from the walls. Were those paper fans? The monks at the monastery he’d gone to after Albi died used to hang them on holy days.

“You have a family,” Kalaes said, pushing him into a chair in front of the table. “And with families you get birthday parties, and victory parties, and hells-I’m-happy-today parties, get it? No reason parties.”

“Unreasonable parties,” Hera said.

“Parties are always reasonable,” Kalaes said, arranging the candles around the pie. “So go on.”

Everyone had gathered, the small ones at the front, their eyes round, reflecting the flames, the older ones behind — and everyone he wanted to see, everyone still among the living, was there, smiling.

“What should I do?” he whispered.

“Make a wish,” Alendra said, putting a hand on his back.

“I think,” he said and swallowed hard, “I don’t have any more left.”

Alendra giggled, covering her mouth, and it made him smile again.

“Well then,” Kalaes said brightly, his voice inexplicably thick, “excellent. That means we can open the presents, stuff the kids’ mouths with food to have some quiet, and make a toast.”

Presents? Elei’s head spun. “A toast,” he said weakly.

“To peace,” Kalaes said, lining up glasses on the table and pouring amber liquid. “To those who have gone, and...” He passed on the glasses and raised his own, his dark eyes moving over them all, stopping on Elei. He dipped his head. “And to the living.”

“To the living,” Elei repeated, taking a sip from his glass. “To all of you.”

“And to my little brother,” Kalaes said, his face serious. “To Elei. Many happy returns.”

Elei drank to that, because for the first time since he could remember, he thought he might believe it.

THE END

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

I hope you have enjoyed REX AFTERMATH. Sign up for the newsletter to be informed about new releases and promotions! http://tinyurl.com/afme4r7

If you want to know how Hera met Mantis and entered the Resistance:

A novelette set in the world of Rex Rising (free)

HERA

Hera, member of the Gultur race governing the Seven Islands, thought she knew right from wrong and what her future held in store. A chance meeting with a lesser mortal, though, will turn her world upside down and force her to see her race and the laws with different eyes. For Hera, knowledge means action, so she sets out to put things right and change her world.

Taking place in the World of the Seven Islands almost three years before the events in Rex Rising, this is the story of Hera’s first confrontation with the truth.

http://www.amazon.com/Hera-Eleis-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B005UY43EA

If you want to know how Mantis met Kalaes and Pelia:

A short story set in the world of Rex Rising (free)

Mantis

Thrown into the sea, his memory of the last few hours hazy but slowly returning, young Mantis decides he can’t die just yet — not before he has put up a fight and made the regime pay for killing the people he loved.

This is the story of how Mantis met Kalaes and how Mantis started his journey with the resistance, a moment which leads to certain events in Rex Equilibrium (Book Three of Elei’s Chronicles).

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009QIC3IY

Author note

I hope you have enjoyed Elei’s Chronicles as much as I have enjoyed writing them. I love my heroes and heroines and I hope they will stay with you as you go about your everyday life. If they made you think, realize or learn something new, if they helped you see your world through different eyes — or even if they just gave you a few enjoyable evenings, then I’m glad.

The problem with series is that authors may get too attached to the characters. I feel Elei, Kalaes, Alendra, Hera, Sacmis and Mantis are part of my family, and find myself reluctant to part with them.

Therefore I am planning two different arcs: Kalaes’ arc, which takes place years before he met Elei (documenting his life after his father’s and brother’s death and his time with Pelia) and Jek’s arc, taking place some time after the events in Elei’s story (documenting Jek’s adventures exploring the Seven Islands and beyond). I also would like to write a brief companion telling you how this story began in my head and about its first forms and transformations.

These are plans, of course, I haven’t written those books yet. But it is very probable I will and I hope you’re looking forward to them as much as I am.

A few quasi-scientific notes

If you have read books 1-3 of Elei’s Chronicles (and I assume you have if you are reading this), then you know where my inspiration about parasites comes from. Here is a quick recap:

Although they may sound like pure fantasy, the parasites described in this novel are based in part on real-life parasites. Mostly these cause illness and death, but some are useful and we humans have coexisted with them from the beginning of our existence. If you’re interested in reading about parasites but don’t want a technical book, I highly recommend the following:

Parasite Rex, by Carl Zimmer (http://carlzimmer.com/books/parasiterex/index.html)

In case you’re wondering whether a parasite can really create a race of women who reproduce by parthenogenesis, i.e. cloning themselves, read about Wollbachia (http://serc.carleton.edu/microbelife/topics/wolbachia/index.html). If you type the name in Google, you’ll get plenty of sites.

Read Parasite Rex mentioned above for many examples of behavior-modifying parasites.

Parasites in Elei’s Chronicles

Protozoan parasites (cronion, Rex)

Like Toxoplasma gondii, Rex is a protozoan parasite. In between stages of growth and transformation, it exists inside tiny protective cysts, which is why the only way to get it is by ingesting it (the acids of the stomach break down the cyst, freeing the microscopic parasite).

Pathogenic fungal infections (telmion, Regina, palantin)

Pathogenic fungi (yeasts and molds and mushrooms) cause disease. A famous one is Candida (just Google it for more information). Acidity in the stomach and intestines is the perfect environment for such parasites.

Note that bacteria (which are also parasitic) are used to control such diseases (for example, the bacteria found in yogurt). Diet is the best bet for keeping healthy — in particular, in cases of candida, it is recommended to avoid sugars because they strengthen the parasite (as is the case with Rex. I “borrowed” this feature from Candida).

Seeing flashes –Rex-palantin bonding

When Elei infects Kalaes with Rex to save his life from palantin when they are underground in book 3, he doesn’t have the luxury to sit and consider how different Rex will become once it bonds with Kalaes’ palantin parasite and matures. Hera voices some objections and doubts as to whether it’s a good idea, but Elei has no option but to pass Rex to Kalaes to save his life.

In any case, Elei’s telmion and Kalaes’ palantin — like Regina — are pathogenic fungi, which gives him hope that it will work out okay.

And it does, obviously. Kalaes survives and gains some of the advantages and disadvantages of Rex which we already know from Elei’s journey.

But Kalaes can do something Elei can’t: he can see the electrical charge left by Gultur fingertips on anything they touch.

I swear this isn’t an ability I made up; I borrowed it from bees. Bees have many amazing abilities — like seeing ultraviolet and sensing the earth’s magnetic field.

What they also do is they collect a positive static charge while flying through the air which they then deposit when they perch on a flower. This electric signature lingers and the next bee to visit the flower can see it, and it knows that the flower has been recently visited by another bee.

Regina, the Gultur parasite, modified its hosts to leave such signatures when it was in a more primitive stage — probably when its hosts were animals or insects able to sense such charges, an ability the Gultur don’t share. It’s a relic ability, one the Gultur are not aware of — like human women’s ability to smell pheromones in men’s sweat, resulting in physical attraction or men’s ability to smell pheromones in other men’s sweat resulting in aggression or cooperation.

Rex is an ancient parasite, relatively primitive. It was kept under lock and key for many centuries, in a dormant state. Unlike Regina, its old enemy, it hasn’t had the chance to evolve much — although by bonding with different parasites it’s surely making up for lost time. Parasites in competition, like Rex and Regina, adapt to counter each other’s powers, therefore somewhere in its cells, Rex has kept the ability to “sniff out” Regina’s presence in order to protect its hosts from it. A random bonding with Kalaes’ palantin results in a new form of Rex where this relic power resurfaces.

GLOSSARY

General terms:

Agaric mushrooms: enormous mushrooms, large as trees, growing in groves. Sometimes they are phosphorescent.

Aircar: hovercraft (useful for unstable terrain such as the Seven Islands which contain many swamps)

Ama cigarettes: herbal cigarettes which are relaxing

Biotransmitter: small transmitter inserted in the body (partly made of human tissue so the body won’t reject it)

Dakron: from ‘Dakru’ (see below in the Seven Islands) — solid, high-energy fuel mined in the mountains of Dakru

Gultur: Indo-European for ‘vulture’ — the ‘all-women race ruling the Seven Islands (originally their name had been: Gwen Gultur — the Women-Vultures)

Hatha: holy (from the name of the ancient Egyptian goddess Hathor, whose name means “House of Horus”) — used for the elite Gultur line of “Echo” Princesses to which Hera belongs (they have the original strain of the parasite Regina, hence are considered purer than other Gultur and sacred)

Info-pole: a pillar with a screen where you insert coins and can look up information, like geographical locations

Longgun: semi-automatic gun with long barrel (like a machine gun but requiring the user to reload each time) — favored by the Gultur

Nepheline: a semi-transparent form of plastic. From ancient Greek ‘nephele’ (‘cloud’) — used in making everything from chairs to boats.

Polyesthene: a fabric similar to spandex (flexible fabric made of synthetic fibers) — made-up word from the Greek ‘poly’ (‘many’) and ‘esthene’ (‘feel’ and ending -ene) — used in creating close-fitting uniforms for the Gultur

Rasmus: a brand of an antique semi-automatic pistol, such as the one Elei carries

Seleukids: diamond-shaped, military aircrafts (airplanes) forming the Gultur air fleet. They also carry drones they can send to track down people on the ground.

Senet: ‘sister’ in ancient Egyptian — used among Gultur as a greeting

Telespeak: old-fashioned telephone where you have to call the operator to connect

Tel-marks (also called “snakeskin”): marks left by the parasite telmion (hence: ‘tel’) on the skin of the infected person.

T’e: yes/all right (ancient Egyptian)

Parasites (all are made-up but based on real-life parasites):

Cronion: a protozoan parasite that can be deadly if not kept in check by another parasite (like telmion), it infects the brain, controls certain hormones (which enables it to cause strong adrenaline rushes) and controls one eye, giving infrared vision.

Palantin: parasite. like telmion, it is a pathogenic fungal infection. Not as strong as telmion, it can be controlled with suppressants, but if left unchecked, usually proves lethal. On the surface, it manifests as white spiderweb-like patterns on the skin.

Regina: parasite. ‘queen’ in Latin (here: name of the parasite which has created the race of the Gultur)

Rex: parasite. a relative of cronion, it is even stronger, able to control nerve endings and act almost as an intelligent being to ensure the survival of its host.

Telmion: parasite. a pathogenic fungal infection, causing snakeskin (also called ‘tel-marks’), and with the side effects of vomiting and fever which in most cases lead to dehydration

Names of persons and places:

Afia: corruption of the Greek name “Sophia” (‘wisdom’)

Albi: from Latin ‘albus’ (‘white’) — the woman who raised Elei

Alendra: short form of Alexandra (Greek for: the one who fights men)

Elei (Eles): Indo-European root meaning ‘bend’. Eles is derived (independently from Elei) from the ancient Greek word ‘Eleos’ (‘mercy’)

Hecate: ancient Greek goddess of the crossroads, the moon, magic and the dead

Hera: ancient Greek goddess whose name means ‘the lady’

Jek: as with most names of street kids, this is a corruption of the name “Jake”

Kalaes: another form of the name ‘Calais’, brother of Zetes, a winged god of the wind in the ancient Greek mythology. Name possibly derived from ‘kalos’ (‘good’) but this is not certain.

Leny: corruption of ‘Helen’

Nunet: ancient Egyptian goddess (form of Naunet, one of the gods of chaos and water) — the Gultur tend to worship an Egyptian Pantheon, unlike mortals who only believe in an ancient Greek one.

Pelia: Indo-European for ‘dove’ — she was Elei’s boss

Sacmis: ancient Egyptian name which means ‘she has power’

Sobek: ancient Egyptian god (god of water who has the form of a crocodile)

Tefnut: ancient Egyptian goddess tfnt (tefenet) of moisture, moist air, dew and rain — here she is Hera’s mother

Verne: a tribute to Jules Verne, one of my favorite authors

Zag: short for Zagres (derived from Zagreus, an epithet of Dionysus, possibly meaning “Great Hunter”), Kalaes’ brother

The Seven islands:

Dakru: Indo-European for ‘teardrop’ (same word in Greek)

Aue: Indo-European for ‘water’

Ert: Indo-European for ‘earth’

Ker: Indo-European for ‘head’

Kukno: Indo-European for ‘swan’ (same word in Greek)

Ost: Indo-European for ‘bone’(same word in Greek)

Torq: Indo-European for ‘turn’

All town names are ancient Greek and Egyptian town names and their origin is not really known (Abydos, Teos, Calydon), except for:

Artemisia (town of Artemis — the Greek version of the goddess Diana)

Aerica: airy (from ‘aer’ ancient Greek for ‘air’)

About the Author

Greek Cypriot with a penchant for dark myths, good food, and a tendency to settle down anywhere but at home, Chrystalla likes to write about fantastical creatures, crazy adventures, and family bonds. She lives in Cyprus with her husband and her vast herds of books. She writes mainly fantasy and science fiction. Her dystopian YA science fiction series “Elei’s Chronicles” (Rex Rising, Rex Cresting, Rex Equilibrium) is available on Kindle and in print. Shorter stories set in that world are also available, and a Companion to the series is also in the plans.

Where to find all books and series: http://tinyurl.com/buth6k6

Other links:

Blog: http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/chrystallathoma

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Chrystalla-Thoma/117863861560579

To keep updated on the sequels and other satellite books, make sure to check regularly this page on the author’s blog:

http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com/rex-rising

Also join the Rex Rising group on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/282489681801529/

Table of Contents

- Table of Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Epilogue