 
Rex Rising

In a world where parasites create new human races, Elei leads a peaceful life as an aircar driver — until a mysterious attack on his boss sends him fleeing with a bullet in his side and the fleet at his heels. Pursued for a secret he does not possess, he has but one thought: to stay alive. Yet his pursuers aren't inclined to sit down and talk, and that's not the end of Elei's troubles. The two powerful parasites inhabiting his body, at a balance until now, choose this moment to bring him down, leaving Elei with no choice but to trust in people he barely knows in a mad race against time. It won't be long before he realizes he must find out this deadly secret — a secret that might change the fate of his world and everything he has ever known — or die trying.

##### Rex Rising

by Chrystalla Thoma

##### Smashwords Edition | Copyright 2013 Chrystalla Thoma

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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.

**Cover design** by Chrystalla Thoma

http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

To Carlos

For being with me, for always encouraging me to follow my dreams and for setting me free. I love you.

Acknowledgements

First of all I would like to thank Marion Sipe for her immense help and support. Without her friendship, encouragement and enthusiasm, but also her technical knowledge and love of stories, I would never have got here. Thank you!

Thank you also Jeff Hill, for your support and help. Your great comments on the first drafts of the novel were an immense help.

I also want to thank my beta readers, Arlene Webb and Anita Siraki, for their valuable comments, as well as critique partners Lori Strongin, Randall Bird, Cyrus Keith, Katie Salidas, and E.D. Walker for their invaluable advise and encouragement. Special thanks to Claire Bugler Hewitt for doing a final proofreading, on top of giving me excellent general comments.

A huge thank you to my parents for raising me up with so much love, and to my friends and family for putting up with me when I am lost in my own world. I have been truly blessed with great people around me.

Chapter 1

Blood seeped between Elei's fingers.

The small wound was above his left hipbone. He pressed down harder to staunch the bleeding and gritted his teeth. His pulse leaped under his palm as he sat shivering on a hard, cold bench. He rested his other hand on the grip of his holstered gun. In his blurry eyes, everything had a shimmering edge, suspended between reality and dream.

Then the world tilted.

Danger.

Elei jerked and sharp pain erupted in his side. Hissing, he drew his gun and waited. His possessed eye throbbed; cronion, the strongest of his resident parasites, hated surprises. The world lit up in bright colors. _Be ready_. His heart pounded in his chest, sent bruising beats against his ribs. He swallowed past a dry throat and gripped his gun until his knuckles creaked.

Nothing moved. Oblong objects around him pulsed in cool hues of green and blue. _Safe. Nothing living_. He relaxed a little. For a while he simply sat, left hand pressing against the wound, the cold metal barrel of the gun held against his right thigh.

"Hey, you," a man's voice said from behind.

Clamping his jaw, Elei lifted the gun and turned to point in the general direction of the voice. Cold wind blew his jacket hood back, allowing him a wider view. The man appeared at the right periphery of Elei's tainted vision — a splash of red. He went still when Elei cocked the hammer. The click rang too loud in the quiet.

"Calm down, will you," the man said, raising his hands. "Just checking on you. You're bleeding all over my boat."

_The boatman_. Elei let out a breath and lowered the gun, but didn't click the safety back on, just in case. The cold breeze ruffled his short hair and water splashed and murmured. The low hum of an engine set his teeth on edge. What was he doing in a boat out at sea? He prodded his memories, but came up blank.

Cronion beat at the back of his eyeball like a hammer. He forced his tense muscles to relax and rubbed his eye with his thumb until the dull ache eased. This time, when he blinked, he saw the surface of things, his unfamiliar surroundings — the wet prow, moonlight glinting on metal benches like the one he sat on, yellow lifesavers underneath them. The boatman stood by the rail, dressed in shabby trousers and a pale yellow shirt, watching him from under his dark cap. The light from a lamp set on a bench pooled around him. The sky stretched naked above, night-black and starry.

The boat rocked and listed. His legs slid. He was falling.

He threw his hands to the sides, to find a handhold, the gun screeching against metal. His fingers caught the edge of the bench. He clutched it, the deep, sharp pain in his side squeezing the air from his lungs, and he bent over, panting.

Broken pieces of memories rushed back with a deafening roar. _Shots fired. Running through the streets. The docks of Ost._

He was crossing the straits between the great islands.

Shivers crawled up his spine. He lifted his hand and stared at the blood on his fingers. He'd been shot, but couldn't remember who'd done it.

Elei groaned to himself. He laid his gun — an antique, semi-automatic Rasmus — on his lap and wrapped his arms around himself, tucking his icy hands under his armpits; hoping fervently this was nothing but a dream, and knowing he just wasn't that lucky.

"Hey." The boatman approached him, stepping over the benches with his long, spindly legs. Red color flashed over his heart, pulsing with each beat.

Elei straightened with a wince and raised his gun. It seemed to have grown heavier; he could barely lift it. "What do you want now?"

"We're almost there." The boatman's voice resonated with a hidden growl. When he raised the _dakron_ lamp, its light revealed a leathery, deeply lined face and bright blue eyes. "Better get ready to jump, do you hear?"

"I heard you." Elei kept the gun leveled, his arm muscles straining. _Where in the hells are we?_ Cold sweat sluiced down his back. His nostrils flared and his body tensed with the urge to run. _Run where?_ He was in a boat, for all the gods' sakes, and yet he knew that even here, in the openness of the sea, he couldn't afford to let down his guard.

Holstering the gun, he struggled to rise but his damn legs cramped and resisted. Shivers danced down his spine and adrenaline made his blood pump faster, so it trickled down his side, scalding his chilled flesh.

"Hurry up, boy," muttered the boatman and his hand closed around Elei's arm like a band of steel. "We can't linger here." He hauled him up as if he weighed nothing, the movement sending sharp claws of pain deep into Elei's side.

_Hells_. Elei gritted his teeth and refused to make any sound as the boatman dragged him to the rail and left him there, the boat rocking with the movement. Muttering, the man went back to his steering wheel and navigated the boat through the dark waters.

In the distance, squat buildings, old warehouses, rose from the white mist of night. Starlight reflected off polished gray walls. The vacant pier jutted out into the sea like an arm of stone. The boat swerved toward it, then slowed down and bumped to a stop, thumping gently against the square blocks.

Elei inhaled the humid air and tried to get his bearings, to remember something, anything. In the end, he had to admit defeat. "Which island is this? Is it Kukno?"

"Are you saying I tricked you?" The boatman's voice was dry. "We're right where you told me to take you. Dakru."

_Dakru!_ The heart of the Seven Islands, risen in their perfect center, pushed out of the depths of the sea by the gods — at the beginning, before their divine hands molded the flesh of fish and birds, and then man. Elei stared at the shore, not quite believing he was there.

Until the boatman planted a heavy hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Hey, snap out of it. Pay me my second half and jump out now, or the sea will have you."

Looking into his hard eyes, Elei had no doubt he meant it. He reached into his pocket and took out his thin wad of bills. Blood ran in a hot line down his hip as he counted and gave over the money. The boatman counted it again, eyes darting to the remaining bills and Elei's gun peeking out of the holster.

_Not good_. Grimacing, Elei climbed out of the boat, scrambling on hands and knees to keep his balance on the blocks of the pier, fumbling in the half-darkness as the sea sang and sighed all around him and cold water sprayed his face. His left wrist throbbed, felt slightly sprained. His body felt numb, uncoordinated; the pain in his side echoed in his limbs, in his head.

Like an insect, he crawled on the giant squares, skinning hands and knees, until he finally reached the pier road. He could have wept for relief. Maneuvering his heavy legs, he climbed to his feet and glanced back at the boat which was already speeding away — a speck blacker than blackness, a white line of surf. Then he turned with a knot in his stomach to face the unknown shore.

The island was Dakru, but which city was this one? A memory returned and Elei frowned. _Krisia_. The boatman was supposed to drop him at Krisia, a small enough seaport to avoid Gultur police control. What had possessed him to go there?

Elei staggered along the pier toward the storehouses lining the seafront and the wound hurt like a son of a bitch with every step. He should have hidden in the mountains of Ost until he figured out what happened.

Nobody in their right mind would come to Dakru. The Gultur presence was stronger there. Their capital, Dakru City, the Gultur stronghold, rose in the center of the island, dominating the plains at the feet of the rugged mountains, and the _dakron_ mines spread around it in a spiderweb of power. The source of the Gultur wealth lay in the control of the _dakron_ mines, where the mineral fuel, pure and invaluable, was extracted. The police presence would be stronger here as well. And he was an illegal migrant.

This is mad. Why would I...

Someone had chased him. A face he knew, a man's hard features, surfaced in his memory. _Falx?_ He wondered why Pelia's head of security would go after him, though it made no difference now. Nevertheless, it explained why he'd chosen — wisely in retrospect — not to travel with legal transportation over the immense bridges between the islands. He'd still been able to think when he'd boarded the boat, body pumped full of adrenaline.

Now the images, the words, the thoughts turned hazy. He stumbled and had to stop to catch his breath, his hand clenching on his side. _Just move_. He licked his lips, his throat raw from thirst, knowing he couldn't rest there — too conspicuous, too dangerous. _Keep moving_. He had to get to Artemisia. He knew that. _And from there..._

Elei grappled with the memory. Where did he have to go? An address, he had an address. Where was it? His hand dove into his pocket and drew out a crumpled scrap of paper. The letters jerked and swam in his vision.

_There_. He must get there. A name. And a place, an address. He wondered how far he had to go, how easy it'd be to find transportation and whether streetcars ran that stretch. He pushed the paper deep into his pocket, patted it. The knot in his gut unwound a little. He had a goal. _Get there. Just do it._

Go to Aerica.

Find Kalaes Ster.

Chapter 2

The message was brief and to the point. "Our Ost connection was terminated. Position of expected shipment unknown. Locate it."

The air left Hera's lungs. _Terminated? Unknown?_ She erased the message, her hand trembling. Sobek's balls, she'd not seen this coming. She'd assumed all was going according to plan.

Gods. Pelia. Project Siren.

Hera bowed her head, fighting the cold grip of fear in her chest. Pelia was dead, and Hera had to know what exactly had taken place. She flexed her fingers and willed her pulse to slow.

"Snap out of it," she whispered to herself. "Do something." All this waiting and hoping in the dark, only to find that the light would reveal death and despair.

I will not let this happen.

After accessing the classified page of the secret police, she entered another password, opened the newsfeed and scanned the fuzzy images recorded by the surveillance cameras across the street from Pelia's apartment.

A shooting.

The gunshots sounded tinny on the bad recording of the cameras. Pelia's long, flat aircar — the new S152 model — appeared. A thin, young man dressed in dark clothes stumbled out of the aircar door, holding Pelia's limp body in his arms, and laid her down on the deck. He knelt over her. Then more shots rang and fuzzy silhouettes with big guns in their hands moved out of the shadows. The image fizzled and went black.

Hera banged her fist on the desk. Nobody outside the Undercurrent was supposed to know the importance of Pelia's work. Pelia had been betrayed.

A traitor walked among them.

Icy sweat trickled down Hera's spine and her hands trembled. Knowing she had no time for a breakdown, she shoved her fear deep inside its box. A quick search of the message pool showed her that the shipment had not yet been found. She sagged in her chair, releasing a pent-up breath. Then who had it?

Her eyes narrowed. _The boy_. He must have the shipment. Pelia's chauffeur, right? Sort of an adopted son she'd recruited from a monks' factory on Ost. He'd been with her when she was shot, and therefore was the only person to whom she could have given it.

Hera pushed back her chair, grabbed her longgun and her glitcher from a drawer and stood. Others had already seen the images. They would be searching for the boy right now. _Dammit all to the five hells._

Holstering her gun, she stepped out into the lobby of the administration offices and strode out and down a passage leading to the great auditorium of the Echo Palace. Turning abruptly at the fresco of the butterfly garden, she headed left, to the main hangar. Her mission was compromised. It was imperative that she got hold of the boy, and time was running short.

As she crossed to the helicopters, she nodded a greeting to the hangar officer, a tall, lithe woman with ash blond hair in a braid. While climbing into the first helicopter in the row and powering up the system, she gazed at the woman.

Curvier than most, filling out her gray uniform well, the young officer turned to stare back at Hera, fine features locked in a scowl.

Hera winked, blew a kiss and raised her forefinger and thumb, flashing the woman an "all well" sign. Then she took the helicopter out of the hangar and up over the Tower's white turrets and green groves, over the grey slopes of the mountains and then the boring plain.

She would find the boy — if he'd made it out of the shooting alive.

Chapter 3

By the time Elei reached the end of the pier, blood soaked his leg all the way down and black dots danced in his eyes. If he didn't find water and some food soon, he'd probably pass out.

Unless the street gangs or the Gultur police got to him first.

Joy.

The promenade spread left and right into patchy darkness, discolored walls, dirty windows and piles of trash lit by sputtering lampposts. A cold, sharp breeze sliced his cheeks and he pulled on his hood. A dog yowled and a bell went off somewhere in the distance. The suffocating stench of rotten fish and other organic trash, and the acrid fumes of _dakron_ from the generators stifled him.

A sudden movement caught his attention, a sinuous shadow creeping along a wall. Cold sweat rolled down his temples and his fingers flexed on the gun grip. A second later, a huge rat stalked into the light, followed by a black cat. They jumped and skidded away on an exposed tube of _nepheline_ alloy.

Elei breathed out and licked his salty lips. He followed the waterfront street to its end and then threaded his way through narrow, wet streets and squares deep and dark like wells. Ghost-like, he placed one foot in front of the other, barely feeling them, step after step, until he exited onto an avenue. Dawn was breaking and the sky was fragmenting into colors — pink, bright red and crimson.

_Crimson like blood._ The image of a blood-smeared face flashed through his mind. He leaned against a grimy shop window, grappling with the memory, but it splintered and faded. He breathed in and out and pressed his face to the cool glass of the mullioned windows.

Inside, old, broken dolls sat arrayed on rows of shelves, among ancient teapots and cups. _An antiquary_. A stuffed falcon stared back at him with empty eyes. He shuddered and pushed himself off the shop front, hand pressed against his smarting wound.

Ramshackle buildings leaned against each other like old people, cutting off the daylight. Rusty-barred balconies displayed bright lines of laundry hung to dry. Compared to Ost, everything looked newer and cleaner. A small, two-passenger aircar zipped by him and was gone around a corner, while more aircars, blue, silver, red, of different sizes and models, weaved among old streetcars that creaked by on huge wheels.

He limped down the avenue, alongside shops interspersed with diners and warehouses. A square opened to his left with a gray Gultur temple taking up its center, cold and faceless like a laboratory. There had been a smaller one in Sestos, the capital of Ost, and he'd always taken a detour to avoid it.

A robed, hooded procession of Gultur was climbing the broad steps of the temple. Elei stumbled back to hide behind the square, metallic pillar of an info-pole. It was impossible to make out their faces or the shape of their bodies, but Elei knew them to be women. All Gultur were, as their parasite ensured — an entirely female race.

He liked women as a rule, but the Gultur were more than that. Rulers of the seven islands, they controlled all resources and proclaimed themselves goddesses. Goddesses who, as rumor went, lived in beautiful cities of their own in the mountains. They kept mostly apart, controlling any uprising and forcing taxes on the population of mortals — letting them live in squalor and poverty and not giving a damn.

The robed figures carried lit _dakron_ lamps and, the offerings for the daily feast laid on large trays — raw meat and unwashed greens — to renew the connection to their goddess, the parasite they all carried, the one who had changed them in so many ways; Regina.

"Regina, all merciful, all plentiful." Their voices rose in a strident hymn. A struggling group of naked men followed, surrounded by a group of Gultur in black uniforms. Elei leaned forward, trying to make out details, and wondered what was going on. As he watched, one of the naked men broke from the group and ran away from the temple toward one of the side streets.

Two uniformed, visored Gultur lifted huge machine guns and aimed. The boom of the gunshots set Elei's ears ringing. The running man dropped and sprawled. A pool of blood spread around him. Another man screamed and broke away from the group. Again the Gultur turned and gunned him down.

_Pissing hells_. Elei's legs began to shake and he leaned against the info-pole. The Gultur policewomen kept their guns at the ready as the group of mortals struggled toward the temple and the chant to Regina rose once more, implacable and shrill.

He backed away, his knees weak, when a deafening roar came from above and his pulse rose in his throat, constricting his breath. He struggled to draw air as he drew his Rasmus. A heavy helicopter passed low overhead, hovering there for a moment before darting off to the north.

_Dammit, pull yourself together_. He was lowering his Rasmus, his back drenched in sweat, when a young male voice said low, close to his left ear, "Drop it, fe."

A hand pulled back his hood and a gun pressed on Elei's neck. The cold metal mouth kissed his skin, promised more pain. His legs finally buckled and he went down on his knees, gripping his gun with numb fingers. Darkness splotched his vision.

A girl's high-pitched voice echoed strangely in his ears. "Hey there, what are you doing, Tau?"

The male voice said, indignant, "He drew his gun! What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Did you shoot him?"

"I shot nobody."

"Well, he's bleeding. You know Kesh said not to draw attention."

A face swam into view and Elei blinked at large, gemstone eyes, a wide grin and black, rotten teeth. If this was a nightmare, then it was a kind he'd never had before. Who knew even nightmares could evolve? As he stared, he realized the girl's face reminded him of someone, a little girl he once knew.

Small hands drove into his pockets, hard and vicious, and he shoved them away, coming back to the present.

"Don't... even think... about it," he ground out. He tightened his fingers around the handle of his Rasmus and managed to raise it, but his vision was still blurry. Fresh blood ran down his hip.

The girl huffed. "Who shot you?"

No clue. A blank in his memories.

Bony fingers jabbed into his side and he hissed in pain. "Did you dig out the bullet, man?"

_Yeah, right. When and where?_ He drew his jacket closed with a shaky hand and turned his gun on her, sighting down the narrowing tunnel of his vision. "Piss off."

The girl took a step back and raised her hands. "Relax. Just checking."

Something glinted in the palm of her hand. "The bullet," he croaked. "Did you get it?"

"Shof, look at his eyes!" The light-haired boy, about Elei's age, stumbled back, distracting him. "They're two-colored. He's infected with cronion. Shit."

"What are you talking about?" The girl's voice wavered.

"It's cronion, I'm telling you."

They backed away, eyes wide, more afraid of the parasite than his gun pointed at them. _Stupid kids_. You couldn't get cronion like that, not by touching. The protozoan parasites had to go through a maturing cycle inside a fly who'd then lay eggs inside a wound.

Unless of course the eggs were injected directly into the bloodstream on purpose. Like Albi had done for him. She'd explained it to him once. Elei remembered the lines of her face, the deep wrinkles around her smile. He hadn't thought of her in some time — his first family, long dead. She'd given him the parasite out of kindness, to save his life.

The children left, their steps light like rolling pebbles. The world made no sense as Elei faded in and out of consciousness, struggling to draw breath.

Get up!

He climbed back to his feet, hand pressed against the wound, and the shop fronts wavered in his eyes. The Gultur temple had closed its doors and stood again faceless and gray. Flies buzzed over the pools of black blood in the square. The bodies had been taken away.

With a shake of his head to clear his eyes, gun clenched in his hand, he shuffled down the avenue, not quite knowing where he was going. The paper with the address burned a hole in his pocket. He had to find Aerica, had to ask someone for the way.

"Your gun and your money, boy," a male voice grated behind him, and Elei whipped around so fast the world pitched. Colors jumped and flashed as he raised his gun. But the man was faster. He closed in and pressed a blade to Elei's neck, at the juncture where it met his shoulder. Red pulsed rapidly in the man's chest.

"Drop the gun," he said. "Now."

Elei set his jaw, teeth grinding together. If he did, he'd stand no chance in the five hells of getting out of this alive. The blade scraped soft skin, but only a little farther down it would encounter the light gray snakeskin covering his back; a veritable armor. Elei knew from experience that if he turned, the blade would glance off.

The man bared his teeth, showing dark gaps and bloody gums, and pressed the blade till it bit into Elei's flesh. "I don't have all day."

Biting back a retort, Elei took a deep breath and twisted from the knees, turning against the blade, cursing as pain exploded in his wounded side. The knife screeched against the hard skin covering his shoulder blade and upper back.

"Hey, what's this new trick?" The man moved in, just as Elei expected, to see better. Elei elbowed him in the stomach and then lurched sideways until his shoulder hit the door of a store. It opened with his shove and he stumbled into a warm, brightly-lit room with a long counter.

_A diner_. Turning about, Elei raised his gun and aimed at the door.

The man followed him in, lips twisted in a sneer and a revolver in his hand, trained on Elei. "Where do you think you're going?" He clucked his tongue.

A shriek pierced the air and they both jumped. They whirled toward its source. A tiny, dark-haired woman scowled at them from behind the counter. She held a machine-gun pointed at them.

Oh great, more guns.

"Get out of my diner." Her voice was clipped and high-pitched. Elei took a step back and she spared him a stern look. "Not you, boy. Stay put." She motioned with her gun at the man. "You there. If I ever see you again in the neighborhood, I'll tell Aji."

The man glared, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Damn you, Dima. Stop interfering, or you'll get hurt."

She just pointed and squinted over the gun barrel. The man held her gaze for a long moment. Then, tipping up his gun, he threw Elei one last angry glance and left, slamming the door behind him.

Relief weakened Elei's knees. He glanced around and saw no other customers. "Listen—"

"How about you leave as well." She swung her weapon on him. "I want no shooting in my diner."

He shook his head. "Wait—"

"Put your gun away," she snapped.

He sheathed his Rasmus. "Okay." A shiver wracked his body. "Listen, I need water. I can pay for it." He fingered an old scar that curled around his upper left arm, ending where the hard tel-marks began. Twisting and running had saved his life before. He could barely stand now, let alone run, not without eating and drinking something.

The tiny woman sucked in her cheeks and let out a hissing breath. "Is that blood on your hip?"

"Yeah." He licked his dry lips.

"Get out!" She raised her gun. "Now."

He swallowed hard and dared a step toward her. "At least tell me how to go to Aerica."

She grimaced. "Go away or I'll shoot!"

The world erupted into dazzling colors and outlines and his pulse went into overdrive. He banged his fist on the bar leaving a bloody smear, then pressed his forehead to the cool surface, the flare of cronion inside his head worse than the pain in his side. _Damned parasite_. "Tell me!"

"Go away. If they find you here, I'll lose my permit and they'll close down the diner." Her voice cracked. "Listen, Aerica is near Artemisia. I don't know how to get there, all right?"

When he looked up, her chest glowed a deep red. His hands began to shake. "And who does?" he ground out, fighting to calm his heart.

"Oh, for all the gods' sakes! Do you want me to shoot you, or don't you even care?" She lowered the machine gun, a banner of fear rippling through her dark eyes. Then she hunched her shoulders and sighed. "Go out into the avenue, walk two blocks down, then turn right. It's the red door. Timmy. Ask him. He knows. He's got a transport business."

"Thanks." He pushed off the bar, staggering just a little, and headed to the door. Blood oozed down his hip, and he stopped, figuring he'd never reach Aerica if he didn't do something about it. Under Dima's glare, he ripped the hem off his t-shirt and wound it around his waist as tightly as he could in a makeshift bandage.

With his Rasmus held loosely at his side, expecting the man to jump out at him, he stepped out into the street. Watching the shadows for any movement, he stalked down the avenue. Quiet. Nobody lurked there. He began to relax as he turned the corner into the side street. _Almost there_.

Rough hands grabbed his right shoulder and pulled, and white-hot pain erupted in his gut. He cried out, a hoarse animal sound, and the sounds faded and returned with a roar.

"Tau was right, look at his eye. Cronion-touched." A woman approached from his side and shoved a knife under his chin, lifting it with the cold tip. "I'll get the gun, you check his pockets."

"You're not the boss," said a male voice. Then the hands jerked Elei's arms back until his elbows brushed together, and this time the pain was like a blade twisting in his insides, cutting his breath short. "I'll have the gun and you check his pockets."

A few feet away, a passerby stopped and then slunk back. Nobody would help him; nobody would risk their neck to save him. Elei knew that and he'd have done exactly the same.

But Pelia had given him an address, had wanted him to get there, and he would, if it was the last thing he ever did. _Think!_ Timmy operated a business, so he must have guards.

He took a deep breath.

"Timmy!" he shouted. "Help! I'm a customer! Help me!"

"Shut up!" The man released his arms, grabbed Elei's throat and pressed deep with his fingers. "Shut your mouth."

_Oh hells_. Elei clawed at the man's hands, but couldn't pry them off. The passage of air to his lungs slowed to a trickle. The world spun and darkened while he elbowed and kicked back at his attacker again and again, but to no effect. Reality splintered. He struggled harder, panicking.

A kick finally connected and the man loosened his hold, cursing. Not losing a beat, he seized Elei's arms again. Immobilized, hanging in that unrelenting grasp, Elei coughed and hacked, fighting to draw air. His lungs burned.

The woman jabbed the tip of the knife into Elei's ribs. "Don't you dare shout again."

She needn't worry; he had no more breath to spare.

"You two, put away your weapons." A black-clad giant of a man stepped out of a doorway and pointed his gun at the woman. "He's here for Timmy. Back off."

The woman hissed and stepped away. When another guard came out, weapon drawn, his assailants glanced at each other, released Elei and scuttled off.

Wheezing, Elei took a faltering step before his knees gave way and the sidewalk rushed up to meet him.

Hands grabbed him just in time. Still blinking at the cracked cement, he was lifted by the armpits and dragged into the building. Disconnected images teased his vision — doors opening into squalid interiors, red-rimmed eyes curiously staring as they passed, and then he was pushed through a double door. Elei tripped on the step, but the guards' momentum carried him inside into a dark lobby.

"Customer, Mr. Timmy," announced one of them and Elei was deposited on a metal bench. The world blurred and pitched, and he gripped the edge of the bench.

"Gods in the deep!" Timmy stood behind a scratched counter — a well-fed young man with rounded cheeks and belly. A lit _ama_ cigarette hung from his lips. He wore a white, button-down shirt that looked expensive, despite the yellow stains on the collar. Business was good. "Damned brigands, shooting my customers on my own doorstep. Very bad for the image."

Elei looked down at his blood-drenched pants and didn't bother to correct him. Let him think he'd just been shot. A moment of respite, of safety, that was all Elei wanted. His pulse beat in his head, in his throat, in his fingertips. If he felt safe, cronion would relax too and release its iron claws from inside his skull.

"Be sure to keep pressure on that wound." Timmy sniffed. "Is it serious?"

Elei shook his head.

Timmy brightened immediately. "Excellent. So, to business. Where to?"

"I need to go," Elei had to stop and cough, "to Artemisia." Coming through his bruised airways, his voice was a raucous whisper. He raised a hand to his throat and watched in fascination as his fingers shook like an old man's. He clenched them hard.

"Listen." Timmy puffed sweet smoke into Elei's face. "A friend of mine has an aircar. For the right fee, she can take you anywhere you want. Do you have money?"

Elei coughed again. "Isn't there a streetcar going that way?"

"No streetcars; the Gultur stopped the service. Rent the aircar or go walking."

"Shit." No wonder business was good.

"Artemisia center or suburbs?"

"Aerica."

Timmy took out his cigarette and flicked the ashes to the floor. "Aerica? That's technically outside Artemisia. It's toward the old mines."

"Your point?"

"Hey, no problem, my friend can take you there." Timmy smiled, his eyes narrowing. "It's three hundred dils, though, up front. You need to book the entire aircar just for you, see."

Elei stared, unblinking. Three hundred. A month's salary. But he had to get there, and his body wasn't likely to co-operate much longer. _Screw it_.

The problem was he wasn't even sure he had that kind of money with him. He dug into his pocket, took out his last bills and scrounged for all the loose dils. Timmy reached over the counter to take them and then heaped them on the top like some sort of mythic treasure. His eyes glinted while his lips moved, calculating.

"This is two hundred seventy," he said eventually, looking up.

Elei fished into his back pockets. "It's all I have left," he said stonily and waited, because there was nothing else he could pissing do.

"Tell you what." Timmy leaned toward him, his voice low, and Elei could smell something rotten coming. "I could buy the Rasmus off you. It's in good shape for such an antique gun. I'll give you five hundred and you can ride for free. It's a bargain. What do you say?"

Pelia had given him that gun. It was her gift. Elei's right eye twitched and Timmy's shape wavered. The colors changed, flaring into bright red and yellow, centered on the man's heart. Trust cronion to suggest a direct and final solution. "No way."

Timmy must have seen something in Elei's expression because he backed off and sucked on his cigarette, his face going sour. "Fine, don't get all worked up. I have another idea. Plenty of ideas, see. So, why don't you give me the two hundred and seventy, and my friend can drive you to Ponds, not so far from Aerica. You can walk to Aerica, not four miles away, and she can take the heavenway from there. How about that?"

Elei clenched his teeth. "Just give me a discount. It's not a big difference." He wouldn't beg, dammit.

"Sorry, my friend, but I can't. The cost of _dakron_ has skyrocketed and the taxes for this business..." Timmy tsked.

Elei bowed his head. _Screw you_. Four miles. He wondered if he'd make it. He took some deep breaths, willing his heart to slow. Too much adrenaline could kill you eventually, even if you didn't bleed to death. "Fine."

"Hey, man. Sure you're all right?" Timmy frowned as he strewed ash from his _ama_ cigarette on the counter. "All that blood on your pants... You're not going to pass out on my friend, are you?"

"I said I'm fine," Elei bit off the words. Cronion's jabs inside his skull finally settled into the usual, constant throb. The colors faded to a lower intensity. "Where's your friend?"

Timmy picked an old-fashioned telespeak, a _nepheline_ square box, lifted the receiver and hit the connect button. "Fia, call." He sucked on the cigarette, waiting for the call to go through, and then straightened. "Fia? Move your arse over here right now, I've found you a customer. Yes. Now."

He put the receiver back into its cradle and grinned. One of his canines was missing. The smoke swirled. "Net's down again. Gultur control policy. When that happens, we're back to the ancient methods, nothing else is reliable."

Elei didn't even blink.

Timmy stared at Elei with open curiosity. "Not from around here, are you? You'll see a lot of this on Dakru, everyone's been digging out their old gadgets. It's been like that ever since the Undercurrent started their attacks, oh, three years back."

Undercurrent. The terrorist organization fighting against the Gulturs' dictatorial rule over the Seven Islands. The Gultur had chosen rich Dakru as their headquarters. Ost, being the island with the least resources, no more than a big rock in the sea, hadn't drawn their attention. Hells, on Ost telespeaks were the standard method of communication. No wonder it had so little Gultur presence and the Undercurrent hadn't surfaced there.

_Ost_. He'd left Ost... when? Many hours ago. Too many hours ago. Automatically he checked for his watch. _Oh, yes. Lost_. It had broken off his wrist when he'd smashed into the ground. He'd taken a leap from the first floor to a terrace he'd seen below, but missed and fell to the street instead, after...

Timmy was waving a hand in front of his face. "Hey, you sure you're okay? I'm not putting you inside the aircar with Fia in this state."

Elei shook his head, rubbed at his possessed eye and sat up straighter, hissing. Still, the pain helped gather his scattered thoughts. _Stay awake. Stay focused_.

It was all he could do while waiting.

Chapter 4

Hera strode through Sestos, the capital of Ost in the early evening. The buildings and shanty towns spread like a bad skin rash, uneven and filthy. Her mental map showed her the route back to Pelia's apartment, and although she slowed to a nonchalant pace, she struggled not to drive her fist through every wall she passed.

Interrogating Falx was out of the question. Such an act would raise too much suspicion. Interrogating the neighbors, which she'd tried, proved an exercise in futility. The boy was gone without a trace, like a fine trail of smoke dissipating in the clear sky.

Caught in the flickering light of a street lamp, a bedraggled woman selling _ama_ cigarettes at the street corner stared with wide eyes.

_Time to go_. Hera turned and headed back toward the landing pad where she'd left the helicopter. She'd attracted too much attention already. Movements jerky with frustration, she fumbled in her pocket for the ignition key. She needed to let the other resistance members know. Maybe someone had a lead.

One could hope, right?

Things were going to the five hells. The shipment represented years of work and hope, experiments, failures and small victories. Then Pelia had spoken of a breakthrough, raising a frenzy of speculation and expectancy, and now she was dead and the shipment gone.

I must find it. But how?

"Hey, you!" a breathless female voice called behind her and Hera whirled around, whipping out her longgun and aiming in one fluid movement.

The woman squealed, eyes going big and round, and raised her hands. A tray hung around her neck on a piece of filthy string. _Ama_ _cigarettes_. The street vendor she'd seen before.

"What do you want?" Hera grated.

"Don't shoot. Don't shoot me." Tears rolled down the woman's grimy face, leaving pale trails.

"I shall not. Speak." Hera lowered her gun and glanced at her helicopter out of the corner of her eye. Maybe she could hand the woman a nutrition bar; that would appease her, and Hera would leave sooner from this accursed island. Unlike Dakru, Ost reeked of disease and desperation. The sheer number of crippled beggars on the street was appalling.

"You're looking for the boy." The vendor wiped at her eyes, smearing more dirt on her cheeks. "You are, don't deny it."

"The boy?" Hera asked, feigning ignorance even as her palms sweated and the longgun began to slip from her grip.

"The boy with the mismatched eyes. Eles. He used to drive the aircar for Pelia, who lived across the street. I know him." She nodded, eyes red-rimmed. "He used to buy cigs from me."

_Eles_. A lead, an honest to the gods lead. Hera took a deep breath. "And what happened to him?" Deep inside, the cold lump of fear sprouted tendrils of ice. "Is he dead?"

The woman shrugged her thin shoulders. "He ran."

Hera licked dry lips and instructed her heart to calm down. It almost worked. "Can you repeat that?"

"He ran away." The vendor glanced over her shoulder, as if afraid of someone overhearing. Hera scanned the street but saw no movement.

"Where to?"

The woman pointed west. Hera squinted at the squalid, dilapidated buildings. "Is that the way to the bridge?"

But the woman shook her head and backed away. "I need to go now, they'll kill me too, if they find me—"

"Wait." Hera made a grab for the vendor's thin arm, but the woman twisted away. "I said wait!"

The vendor fled down the street, moving faster than Hera thought possible for such an emaciated body, and disappeared into a dark alley. There went her only willing witness. Hera swore under her breath and turned her gaze again in the direction the woman had indicated. Where had the boy gone? Pelia must have told him to seek out the resistance, to seek help.

Not over the bridge, though, that would have been too risky. The glow of yellow spotlights on high metal cranes caught her eye. _The port_. Her lips twitched. Yes, the port. She knew now where the boy had gone. Across the isthmus, to the closest shore.

Dakru.

Chapter 5

Timmy shuffled papers and gadgets on his counter, whistling in between drags of smoke and keeping rhythm with his foot. Elei itched to silence him. Each sound was a thump inside his skull.

A door at the other side of the room opened and a guard poked his head inside. "Fia's here, Mr. Timmy." The whiz of an engine and suffocating _dakron_ smell confirmed the arrival of Elei's transport.

Timmy grinned. Sticking the cig back into his mouth, he strolled to the door and out to the street. "Fia, about time you showed up! I told you to stay close."

Elei didn't hear the answer, if there had been one, straining to push himself upright on shaky legs. The feat achieved, he leaned against the wall, blinking furiously to clear his eyes, and made his limping way outside.

The aircar was medium sized, easily twenty-six feet long and twelve feet wide, able to fit seven to eight passengers. It looked as old as Timmy's telespeak, repaired and patched over, rusty in places. The name had been painted over but was still visible: "Ker IX: 298." _An old military aircar_.

Timmy was there, looking pleased with himself. He helped Elei up the first rung of the ladder and patted him on the arm. "Have a good ride!"

_Whatever_. Elei kept a death hold on the rail as he climbed, not trusting in his battered body. Jaw clenched against the pain, he finally reached the deck. The door to the cabin loomed open. Elei entered. Two yellow _nepheline_ chairs were the only furnishings, their covers split in places. A rolled newsprint lay on one of them.

"Are you in?" a cheerful voice called from the driver's deck. A woman's small face appeared at the cubicle's opening — a mop of chestnut hair and a dark, intense stare full of curiosity.

"Yeah."

Hands braced on the armrests, he lowered himself gingerly into a chair. Outside the large windows, the street stretched, wide and full of other aircars. The overcast sky hung right over the buildings like a dirty sheet. He leaned his head back. _The last stretch_.

Then Fia revved up the aircar engine, which sputtered and coughed. The vehicle lurched forward, almost throwing him to the floor, and he grabbed the armrests when it swerved wildly to avoid the white façade of a Gultur office building.

Elei held onto his seat, teeth grinding together, as Fia sent the aircar in a zigzag trajectory, hurtling through the streets of Krisia, barely avoiding other vehicles and buildings. Another swerve, and another, and then, finally, thankfully, they were out onto the heavenway and heading toward the north.

He allowed his fingers to release their white-knuckled grip on the armrests and slumped in his seat. A road sign read 'Artemisia', the rest eaten by brown rust, and a knot unraveled in Elei's insides. Somewhere deep, he'd been afraid Fia would dump him in some suburb close by, leave him stranded and lost.

Blood smeared the armrest where he'd clutched it. He pressed his lips together, fighting a cold surge of fear. Maybe he ought to check that he wasn't bleeding to death. _Right_. With a release of breath, he opened the flaps of his jacket and lifted his t-shirt. He peeled off the bandage and, for the first time since his mad flight from Ost, he really looked.

Small and round, the gunshot wound opened like a crimson mouth on his pale flesh, right above his pelvis. As he watched, blood oozed, thick and dark, spilling into his pants.

Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed hard. He yanked the bandage and the t-shirt back down, covering the wound, and placed a hand over it. _Shit_.

The newsprint poked him in the thigh. He picked it up and unrolled it, desperate for a distraction. The photo of the main article showed a beautiful red-haired woman, dressed in a form-fitting black uniform. Her shoulders were decorated with silver medals.

'Nekut, head of the Gultur investigations department, currently residing in the Bone Tower headquarters,' read the legend, 'said eradicating the Undercurrent is only a matter of time.' She claimed the necessary preventive measures were being undertaken to control the current outbreak of violence. Violence to contain violence.

The Gultur reign seemed eternal. Elei doubted the Undercurrent would make any dent in their power. He pressed the image and the article unfolded on the flexi-screen. A bomb defused. Success for the Gultur. A warning to the populace. Nekut denied circulating rumors about the systematic rounding up and extermination of males 'for being needless and outdated chromosome mutations'. He shivered when he remembered the Gultur temple and the group of naked men, and wondered at the contradiction.

Then again, the news agencies belonged to the Gultur. They had control of everything. It all made perfect sense.

Outside the window flashed streaks of color. Other vehicles. Small towns. The mountains in the distance. And then he saw Artemisia rise like a giant insect, tall buildings, glinting antennas and green reflections. The aircar exited the heavenway and spiraled down toward the ground, turning in claustrophobic circles, until it spilled out onto the streets of the city.

Fia took an arching avenue that shot up into the sky, passing so close to the multi-story blocks of apartments and offices that Elei caught glimpses of people moving inside. His stomach roiled and he wondered if Fia would be upset to find he'd thrown up on her seats. He swallowed convulsively, trying to control the nausea, and held his hand to his side. His fingers came back streaked with fresh crimson that seeped through the bandage and the t-shirt.

Hold it together. A little longer. Come on.

He refused to think about what would happen once he got to the address. He gazed outside, his eyelids so heavy they ached. They were falling shut.

And there was blood. Everywhere. On his hands. On Pelia. On her chest, for the gods' sake, on her blouse, on her exposed neck. On her face. On the seats of the aircar. His hands slipped on her chest when he tried to stop the bleeding. Her words came out distorted. Something was pushed into his pocket, a piece of paper that crackled. And then he felt the gunshot, the impact in his side. More blood. Confusion. Fear. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

A hand on his shoulder. He gasped and flinched.

"Wakey, wakey! End of journey."

Cronion jolted in his eye before the words filtered through. Then the parasite quieted. Elei came back to his surroundings, panting. _Safe_. He was safe.

A lined, thin face bent over him, half-buried in the shadow of a hood, lips painted a garish pink. A moment of panic, then he remembered. His driver, Fia.

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Hey, listen, honey. I know Timmy said to drop you off at Ponds, but you don't look so good, you're white as a sheet. I can see you're bleeding." She sighed. "I brought you just outside Aerica. Think you can walk the rest of the way?"

His eyes stung at her kindness. "Thanks. I'll manage."

He had to.

Elei pushed himself up and she reached down to help him. To his relief, his legs held. They walked out to the deck and the cold air.

Clouds diffused the light of day. The aircar stood in a shabby suburb, dark even at midday — buildings blackened by fumes, people with hands lost in their pockets. They huddled into themselves, shuffled their feet and stepped from shadow to shadow.

Fia helped him to the ladder, then stood leaning over him, a dark shadow against the cloudy sky, as he descended.

"Go on," she called out. "Aerica isn't far, I swear. Take the boulevard toward the mountain you see — right there. Keep walking that way and Aerica will find you."

The aircar shot away. He remained staring at it for some time, sweat-drenched and shaky, trying to remember what he was doing there and why. Then he pressed the straps of his black jacket together till they clicked shut and huddled in it, glad for its warmth and the dark color that hid the blood. Pulling on the hood to protect his neck from the bite of the wind, he turned and started toward Aerica, a hand on the handle of his gun, an arm wrapped around his middle.

His slow, limping steps took him along empty plots with sick-looking shrubs and fences covered in ghost climbers. Some dilapidated houses littered the emptiness. It was eerie. A junk, a small glidecraft, buzzed by and its driver leaned out to peer at Elei.

He walked on and his steps became heavier; his head was too light. The overcast sky stuck against his eyelids and pressed them down. The empty plots gave way to square, concrete buildings, factories and process plants with tall chimneys, blackened with _dakron_ fumes. Houses and shops appeared next, and even some neglected gardens overgrown with pale thorny weeds. Had he reached Aerica?

He stood in a broad street, lined with small shops, dirty windows and trash. A woman came out of a drugstore and, without looking at him, turned down an alley and was gone. Nothing seemed real. He half expected the buildings to dissolve into fine mist and dissipate.

Shaking himself, he took out the paper Pelia had put in his pocket. Stains of blood had eaten away its edges and half the word 'Aerica'. He squinted at the address and looked up, scanning the street. Could there be... _Ah, there_.

He stumbled toward the info-pole and stared stupidly at the coin slot. _No money left._ After glancing around to make sure nobody was looking, and with the ease of habit, he kicked the metal pole.

Pain lanced into his side and he muffled a cry with his hand. He leaned against the info-pole as it hummed into activation mode. _Pissing hells. Ow_. For such a small wound, it hurt too damn much. Then again it was probably normal, since it was deep. He'd never been shot before. Now his hands were clenched so tight his short nails dug into his palms. He unclenched them, finger by finger.

A black cat stared at him from a shop entrance as he blinked tears from his eyes. Stupid creature seemed to be laughing at him.

He dashed the tears away. He only had to make it to this address. That was the grand plan. Just a little longer. Afterward... he'd have to see. If he survived. One step at a time.

The panel slid back, revealing the oval, concave screen. He pressed the green button, read the address aloud — "apartment 32b, building Kay, 198 Broad Street" — and waited for the map to zoom in. A beep announced the map was done, and, tracing the web of streets with his forefinger, Elei saw to his relief that it wasn't far. He counted the turns, memorizing the way, and pressed the button again to erase the address.

Better leave no clues.

Not that anyone would have followed him so far. They had to know by now, he had nothing they wanted.

Rubbing his chest, he set off, counting the streets and turnings. He peered at the building façades as he passed. The numbers followed no apparent order. Number twenty followed number hundred and forty three, only to be followed by sixty one. Whose idea of a joke was that?

When he thought he couldn't go a step farther, he found the broad street with its faceless buildings. As he walked, he gripped the piece of paper in his hand to remind him what in the hells he was doing there, but when he looked at it, the letters seemed to be crawling and falling off its edge. He flinched. Now was not the time to go off the deep end.

Something moved ahead. Dark figures separated from the shadows of a squat building with yellow doors. Cold crept down his spine and goose bumps sprang on his skin. Shit, not now. He fumbled at his belt for the Rasmus. Breathing raggedly, he drew it, yet they made no move on him and after a few steps they vanished into some alley and left him to trudge on alone.

A man jostled him coming out of a dark storefront. A scar across his cheek disfigured his face. Elei raised his gun, but the man strode away, head lowered, muttering.

Letting out a pent up breath, Elei stumbled on until he found the number he sought. He stopped and checked the paper, afraid to believe it.

Yes. It was the one.

He glanced up. It was a gray building, a non-descript square pillar. An empty concierge box stood at the entrance, its window broken. The metal door protested when he pushed it to peer inside. In the gloom, the red light of an exit sign flickered. A smell of piss and rot wafted on the air, familiar scents that reminded him of his childhood and sent a burning to his stomach. He could see no elevator. He raised his crinkled piece of paper to eye level.

'Kalaes Ster,' he read the name off the paper, aloud, to make it real. It sounded like a person's name but it could just as well be a password of some sort.

A whistle pierced the air when he stepped inside, startling him, but nothing moved inside the hall. Apartment number 32b. _Thank the gods_. That would be only the third floor. Before he lost his nerve, Elei started up the stairs. He took them a step at a time, telling his heart to slow down, hand pressed on his throbbing side. His pulse kicked and danced inside his skull, but worse still, his chest felt crushed and he just couldn't catch his breath.

He reached the first landing and started up another flight of stairs, when the stained steps tilted. _Five hells_. As he hung onto the rail, his desperation turned to mad rage and he slammed his fist into the metal. Fire sparked up his nerves and wrenched a strangled cry from his throat. He could damn well do this.

With a last surge of energy, he threw back his hood, drew himself upright and climbed the last steps to the third floor. Panting, he limped past identical doors, till he found number 32b — a brown door, its paint peeling in abstract lines. He sank to his knees and pressed his cheek against the rough, cold surface.

He banged his fist once. "Open up." Silence greeted him. His heartbeat was in his throat, his ears, his hands; it fired away like a gun. "Open up!" _Please_.

Steps sounded, then paused. A man's voice called out, "Who's there?"

"Kalaes Ster? Let me in."

The door opened a crack and a dark eye filled the space. Then the door opened all the way and Elei fell inside. He sprawled on the floor and rolled to stare up at a gray ceiling. Before he could say anything, he heard a muffled curse, then the buzz of a sonic gun powering up.

Panic paralyzed him. Cronion flared, or tried to. The skin of the walls and ceiling slipped away, leaving behind throbbing colors, hazy outlines. His pulse redoubled. He grabbed at his belt for his Rasmus, but a boot stepped down on his throat, cutting off his air. He struggled to push the boot off, his lungs burning, his side a white hot blaze.

"Who are you?" the angry male voice said and a pale face swam into view, leaning over him. "Who sent you? Are you with the Gultur?"

"I'm not." Elei's fingers scrambled at his throat. "Let me—" The trickle of air into his lungs lessened and he flailed, panicking, hands hitting the floor.

"Why are you here then?" the man asked.

"Pelia..." Elei gasped. Darkness began to erode his vision. Strength left his hands and they dropped. The face approached his; in the narrowing tunnel of his vision appeared a pair of dark eyes and a mass of spiky black hair. Then the boot pressed down harder on Elei's already bruised windpipe. The maw of darkness gaped open and a roar filled his ears.

The solidity of the floor underneath him melted and the pain finally ebbed away.

Chapter 6

"Definitely telmion. See the marks..."

"Bleeding's almost stopped. Can't feel the bullet; he must've taken it out."

"Infection?"

"No, it's clean."

Young voices, one male, one female. They floated around Elei, over him. His body felt heavy, cold and dead. He tried to move his hands and they twitched on warm, smooth fabric. He lay on his back on a soft surface. A bed?

Then pain flared his side, twisting like a hot blade, pushing deeper and deeper until his back arched.

Fingers were digging into his wound. _Again_.

Summoning all his strength, he forced his hand up to swat at the offending digits. He heard a gasp.

"He's awake, Maera." The man's voice. "Step back."

"Don't be ridiculous. He's barely conscious."

A faint scent of moist earth. _Maera_.

He opened his eyes. Cronion asserted its presence instantly, sending pangs of pain down his nerve endings, gripping his head and plunging the world into bright colors. A form stood next to him, a woman, bright orange in her chest. Elei's hands jerked at his sides, seeking his gun.

Then she bent over him and cronion constricted his airways. Bright red flared over her heart. _No!_ Gasping, he willed cronion to subside and blinked to refocus his possessed right eye. _I'm not going to kill her._

"Hi." Her voice held a smile. "Can you hear me? I need to bandage your side, or you'll keep bleeding."

Reluctantly, the surface of things, the skin of reality, returned. A young woman dressed in dark green overalls. Soft curls framed her face and a tattoo of two black dots marked her chin. On the other side of the bed stood a man all in black, perhaps twenty or so, strong and tall. He stood easily, confidently, in a sphere of strength and good cheer. His lips were tilted in a smile — but he held a gun in one hand, trained on Elei.

"Kalaes Ster..." Elei breathed, more of a question than a statement — the name written on his piece of paper.

"That would be me," said the young man, lifting an eyebrow.

And, with that statement, cronion relaxed a little, allowing Elei to breathe. He closed his eyes, basking in the slight release of pain, a feeling bordering on pleasure. "Good."

Kalaes stalked closer, and when Elei blinked he found him grinning, though his eyes were narrowed. His black hair stuck out in all directions and two thin braids hung over one ear, caught with metallic rings. A tattoo of three diagonal, parallel lines marked his right cheek. He kept the gun trained on Elei's head. Another tattoo decorated the back of his right hand — a black spiral, probably a gang marking.

"I'm Kalaes, but who are you?"

"Eles. But everyone calls me Elei." With slow movements, Elei pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing, and looked sideways at the woman. She stared back apprehensively, eyes wide.

"Who's everyone?"

Elei opened his mouth but nothing came. Well, thinking of it, right now... Albi had. Pelia had. Now they were both dead. "No one."

Maera giggled and brought a small hand up to cover her mouth.

Kalaes shifted his weight and his grin vanished. He sighted down the barrel of his gun. "Not funny. Look, you mentioned Pelia. What's she to you?"

Elei ducked his head and swallowed hard. Kalaes wouldn't shoot, would he? "My boss. I'm her driver." Cold spread through him again. He shivered and pressed his lips together, hoping to stop his teeth from chattering.

"You look barely sixteen. Aren't you too young to be a driver?"

He shook his head and managed in degrees to sit up, the pain less than he expected. "No." He'd always been old enough — for disease, for work, for hunger. Never too young.

"Pelia's driver. Five hells." Kalaes sighed, rolled his eyes and lowered the gun, which, Elei supposed, was a good sign. Kalaes clicked on the safety and placed the gun on a small table, far from the bed. Still being careful. Then he folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, the thin braids swinging with the movement, the metal on them ringing. "Well, well."

Maera approached with a wad of gauze. When she bent over Elei, a small gasp escaped her mouth and she reached toward his throat. Her hand hovered, never touching him. "Gods, look at your throat, these bruises. Kal, is that your doing?"

"Does that look like a boot imprint, fe?" Kalaes huffed. "You know I only wanted to scare him a little. These here... Someone tried to strangle him."

Elei said nothing. Besides, Kalaes didn't seem interested in knowing more and Maera appeared more shocked than curious. Maybe getting strangled wasn't anything unusual here on Dakru.

Maera glared at Kalaes, then turned back to Elei and raised the gauze like a peace offering. "Let me."

In silence, awkward and clumsy at the proximity of her pretty face, he let her roll up his t-shirt and then kept the pad in place over the wound while she unrolled the gauze. Afterward, he lifted his arms as instructed, feeling like a child. Calm filled him, and he glanced up to see a crooked smile on Kalaes' face. Then it was gone, so fast Elei wondered if he'd really seen it.

Maera wound the white swath of thin cloth around his waist. Her sure, smooth movements, her scent, the warmth of her hands where they touched his bare skin bathed him in a glow of safety.

A beep sounded, breaking the spell.

"Crap, it's late." She stepped back and took out a small black device from her pocket. A beeper. "I've got to go, my shift's starting. Take care, Elei." She grabbed a dark blue handbag from a chair and slung it over her shoulder. Her boots squeaked on the linoleum floor. "See you, Kal!"

Kalaes smiled at her, a real smile. His eyes crinkled, trailing her lithe form to the door, lingering. "You know, you interrupted what might have turned out to be _the_ night." He sighed. "I swear, fe, that girl's driving me up the wall, I can never tell what's on her mind. And when I thought I'd finally get her to give me a kiss and hopefully more, bang, you fall through my door like an armed grenade and it all goes to the hells." He grinned good-naturedly, then frowned, his good cheer draining away. He walked back to the bed. "So, enough beating around the bush. If you hadn't mentioned Pelia I'd have already tossed you out. You say she sent you to me. Why?"

Elei stared at his hands, the various scars covering them. His memories swam in a dark haze. Pelia had pushed the paper into his pocket and said something. He tried to remember the words, but they refused to come, so he just shook his head and took out the stained piece of paper. He held it out.

Kalaes hesitated one second, and then took it. "My address and name."

"Yes."

Kalaes' mouth thinned. "And this means?" He glanced up, dark eyes flashing, the beads on his two small braids clinking.

"She just gave me that."

Kalaes nodded. Then his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Elei's face. The paper fell from his hand as he stepped up to Elei and grabbed his chin in a bone-breaking grip. "I'd noticed the tel-marks, but your eye," he whispered, "the color... Can't be. You have telmion, that's for sure — but you have cronion, too?"

Most people had that reaction with him. Incredulity, then anger and violence. Elei waited, heart beating erratically, trying to ignore the red flashing on Kalaes' chest. Somehow he didn't think Kalaes would hurt him. _Try telling cronion that_.

Kalaes released Elei's chin and gave him a light pat on the cheek. "Full of surprises, aren't you, fe! Cronion, to control telmion. That's a risky solution. And you survived it. When I saw the tel-marks on your side, I thought you'd be dead before the night was out. It's always hard to tell how old the marks are. And I'm still not sure... How come you weren't vaccinated? Have you carried both parasites a long time?"

"Since I can remember."

Kalaes snorted and sat down on the bed beside him, eyes a little wide. "I'd have written you off for dead, but you're very much alive. Cronion... Can you see heat sources?"

Elei stared at the far wall. "Yes." Silence stretched, and he decided that maybe more information was expected. "When I sense danger."

Kalaes shifted. The bed creaked. "I see."

A rustle of thin paper. Kalaes offered him an _ama_ cigarette from a half-empty packet. He took it. They lit their _amas_ in silence.

"Maera was worried about the bullet." Kalaes blew a cloud of gray smoke. "She was relieved when she found none. Good thing you dug it out earlier."

Elei took a long drag of the _ama_ 's sweetness, watched the smoke spiral upwards and let the soothing effect of the herbs take hold and ease his pain and fear. _The bullet._ The girl in that back alley had actually managed to dig it out and take it with her, so fast. _Go figure_. Maybe he'd zoned out after all.

"So Pelia wrote this." Kalaes bent and retrieved the piece of paper from the floor. "I remember her handwriting. She always had that peculiar way of writing the "a" like a head with a knife stuck in it."

Elei choked on the smoke. Was the guy ever serious? And did that mean... "So you believe me?"

"Perhaps. Question is, why would she send you here, fe? We haven't seen each other in a long time, Pelia and I."

Elei raked his hands through his short hair. "I don't know."

"She must've told you."

"I can't remember," he said quietly. "I was on the run."

"From who?"

"Falx and his men."

"Who's Falx?"

"The head of her security." He winced. "Looks like he didn't like me much."

"I see." Kalaes took a long drag from his cigarette. "A guy came after you — I sure as the hells don't know why — and Pelia thought she could send you to me." He pulled an ashtray from under the bed, put his cigarette out and offered it to Elei who took it without a word. Kalaes laced his hands behind his head and stretched. "Well, I've no time for this. Haven't got the goddamn patience, or the stomach for it, either. You can go right back and tell her that. I'm done taking in strays. She's got some nerve, sending me someone after all this time without a word. I owe her nothing. She can look after her own."

_Strays?_ Perhaps he should feel insulted, but Elei was just numb. He supposed he was a stray. He stubbed his cig out and lowered the ashtray onto the bed, spilling some ash on the sheets. His hands shook.

Kalaes was sending him back.

"She can't," he mumbled.

"Can't what?"

"Take me back."

In a single, fluid motion, Kalaes got up, walked over and opened the door. "Whatever. Listen. Your wound has been taken care of. You won't bleed to death. I don't think there's anything else I can do for you. I've got enough on my plate with work and the street gangs. Good luck, fe." He rubbed the furrow between his eyebrows with his thumb. "I just... can't take anyone in right now, okay? Maybe you had a row with Pelia, or this guy, Falx, I don't know. For all the gods' sakes, go back. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you again."

He raised a dark eyebrow when Elei didn't make a move to rise from the bed. "Hey, can you hear me? Did you understand what I said?"

Elei stared stupidly at the open door. In his mad flight from Ost he'd set Aerica and this young man as his destination, his only goal. Beyond them lay darkness and void. "Wait..."

"What now?" Kalaes scowled and stepped aside, leaving the door open. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his booted feet planted widely apart, and an exasperated expression on his face.

Pelia had sent him to this man. She'd given him this address and this name. Elei swallowed hard. Kalaes had known her. He had to tell him.

"Pelia is dead." Each syllable hurt like a jagged piece of glass coming up his throat. "They shot her. Four, maybe five times. Falx probably thought I did it. But I was... I tried..."

The gunshots rang again in his ears, one after the other, deafening. He thought he saw blood flow everywhere, covering the floor, the walls, his hands, spreading, darkening. Its smell mingled with Pelia's flower perfume, nauseating. He held her as she bled and she'd pressed something cold into his side. _"Elei..."_ he heard her voice in his head and felt the impact in his side.

"She's dead? What are you saying?" Kalaes crouched in front of him, frowning. "Who shot her? What happened, Elei?"

"The aircar windows shattered." Elei's breath wheezed. The dizziness was back and with it the unbearable cold. "From outside... The shots came from outside."

She's dead.

Cronion rose inside him like a vengeful ghost, making the world flash, and Elei thought he was running but couldn't feel his feet. His hands scrabbled at the bed but he could find nothing solid. The world was spilling into gray, fading away. He was falling and there was no edge to anything that he could hold.

Then arms enfolded him in warm darkness, stopping the fall, and he buried his face in it, trying to absorb the warmth. A smell of _ama_ cigarette and musk filled his nostrils. He gripped handfuls of rough cloth and took great, shuddering breaths.

"Shh," Kalaes said, his voice soft. "Just breathe, fe. Breathing's good. Then we talk."

* * *

Hera marched through the streets of Krisia wrapped in cold wind and rising fear. She'd thought that, once back in Dakru, clues as to Eles's whereabouts would practically fall into her lap.

Nothing.

Her most recent access to the main system had showed her increased mobilization of military forces. She was not the only one searching for the boy, but of course she'd expected that. They had the means to find him before her and only the gods knew what their plans for him were.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she stopped at a shop window. _An antiquary._ Old furniture, broken dolls and stuffed animals. Everything dead.

Dead.

She shivered and resumed walking. All her questions about the origin of the islands and their inhabitants, her quest for an answer to the provenance of the old tech which seemed to have sprung into life together with the people as if out of nowhere — all that was meaningless if the shipment was lost; if Eles was dead and the secret gone with him.

If she could not break the vicious circle of power before the Gultur committed a genocide.

Hera set a course to a dingy basement downtown, underneath a small diner. Her contact there, Iliathan, should be able to help her find the boy. At least, that was her hope, and hope was all she had right now.

Chapter 7

Elei swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor. The cold seeped through his socks. His scuffed black boots were there, placed against the wall. His jacket hung on the back of a metal chair and his gun lay across the seat.

He trailed his fingers down to his bandaged side. At least this time he hadn't passed out. He'd slept like normal people did. Elei sighed and licked his parched lips. An improvement, all things considered.

Light filtered through lowered shutters, pooling on the floor. Quiet. Kalaes was probably gone to work, leaving the place empty.

A bang and a crash reverberated through the apartment.

A sharp cry left Elei's lips. He pushed to his feet. The world pitched and darkened, the blood draining from his face and rushing to his ears.

"Are you all right?" asked a woman's soft voice from his left and he spun around, listing to the side. "Sorry if I woke you up. Good morning."

The words finally registered and he sank back down to the bed with a groan, burying his face in his hands. When his head cleared, he peered up between his fingers. She stood at the opening of a door he hadn't noticed before — the woman from last night, the one with the soft curls and the two dots tattooed on her chin, the one who smelled of moist earth. Maera.

No shooting. No guns. He was safe. _Safe_. Taking deep breaths, he repeated his new mantra.

She smiled and stood still with a pan in one hand and a spoon in the other, waiting for gods knew what. Liquid dripped from the spoon to the floor. When he didn't speak, color rose to her cheeks. "Kal called me. I'm just making some breakfast."

He went on staring. He supposed he was expected to say something, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anything. Suddenly he wondered if Kalaes had told her about his breakdown the previous night and heat rushed up his neck.

Maera laughed then, a bright little sound, and disappeared back into what, in view of her words, had to be the kitchen.

He rose with only a little discomfort and made his way to the window. Daylight streamed through the horizontal bars. He shaded his eyes. Across the street, tall, gray buildings mirrored the one he was in. Some sparrows hopped on a windowsill and migrating cranes flew across the gray sky, necks outstretched. Below, he made out aircars and pedestrians hurrying by, dark blurs. A Gultur police helicopter hovered in the distance, half-obscuring a small square with concrete benches.

Elei frowned and moved away from the window, his gut clenching in apprehension.

"Bathroom's the green door!" Maera's disembodied voice drifted from the kitchen.

Elei went and opened it, and stared into the tiny closet with the urinal and the sink. It stank, even though it looked clean. He pissed and watched with fascination the dark yellow liquid swirl down the drain, wondering if dehydration was the reason he felt so light-headed.

"Breakfast's ready!"

Or was it hunger?

He followed the cheery voice and the smell of food into a colorful kitchen, small and cozy. The shelves were painted blue, the counters red, the plates on the tiny table were orange. It was as if he was dreaming. Surreptitiously pinching himself, he sat in one of the rickety chairs, fully expecting the room to vanish. It didn't. _Good_.

Maera turned toward him, pan in hand, dark eyes sparkling. Daylight entered through a small window and painted a golden halo around her hair. She grinned widely. "Ready for Maera's special morning treat?"

He blinked and his lips pulled upward into a smile. _How weird_. He supposed it was kind of a reflex, a mirroring thing — like dogs snarling at one another.

Maera dished out a strange-looking mash with bits of brown and green. She sat, pulled her plate closer and dug into it with gusto.

Elei managed one polite bite before hunger won out. He bent over his plate and wolfed the food down, barely taking the time to breathe between bites. At some point, he looked up at the sound of a muffled snicker. "What?"

"Even Kalaes, sweetheart that he is, never manages to finish this. But you have."

"It's good."

"It's awful, and that's me saying it, but it's the best I can do."

He shook his head. He wasn't the best of judges when it came to food. As long as it wasn't spoilt, it was good enough. "What is it?"

"Nutrition package, eggs and pepper."

Pepper. And eggs. That had been the taste. On Ost, they were hard to come by. Anything apart from the government rations, mushroom harvests and the occasional fish was considered a delicacy. He'd never been able to afford pepper, but Pelia loved it and had made him try. Eggs were easier to find if you knew where to find the nests.

Maera pushed something into his hand. He curled his fingers reflexively around a smooth, cool surface and looked up to find he held a glass of colored liquid. He raised an eyebrow.

"Drink. It's a vitaminized, mineralized serum. I snuck it out of the factory for you. You've lost quite a lot of blood."

He toasted her silently and gulped it down. It didn't taste bad, either — sweet and salty at the same time, with a faint aftertaste of rust. He was still thirsty and wondered if he could ask for another glass of serum or water or anything liquid, fully aware that these things were damn expensive, when she pushed the squat bottle toward him.

"You're to finish it all, anyway," she said. "You really should."

Elei shrugged. That was fine with him, so he downed it in one go. He was actually starting to feel a little better. For one, his stomach had given up on trying to consume itself and the pounding headache had finally eased. "Thanks."

Maera cocked her head to the side and gleaming curls fell in her eyes. "A pleasure. Will you tell me what happened to you? Kalaes said you didn't talk much. Said you were in shock."

He screwed the lid back on the bottle and placed it on the table, carefully, afraid he'd drop it. He pressed his hands together, then changed his mind and rubbed them on his pants. In shock? Well, it made sense. He tried to remember what he'd told Kalaes the previous night, but all he could think of was blood, more blood, a sea of red.

"He said you worked for Pelia."

"I did." He paused, trying to march his thoughts into order. "For a year I drove her aircar and watched her back. Kind of a bodyguard, I guess. She had Falx and his men, but she said she trusted me more."

He watched his fingers, pale against the black fabric, pressed so hard his nails were white. He tried to relax them. Lately they'd spent some time talking, Pelia and him. That is, Pelia had done most of the talking. She'd discussed politics and the rumors of revolt and had offered him nuts and fruit from the greenhouses on Ert. She'd said, sounding serious, that she trusted him with her life.

"She shouldn't have." Shouldn't have trusted him. He hadn't been able to protect her and save her from dying.

"Shouldn't?"

He said nothing.

"Kal said you mentioned a shooting. That she was killed."

"Yeah." He felt he had to tell Maera about it, tell _someone_ about it, build a tombstone of words for the woman who'd taken care of him, so he took a deep breath. "I'd just driven her home after work. I turned off the engine. She was telling me a tale about a King and I turned to tell her... to tell her it was a children's tale, nothing more." His trembling hands were clenched in hard fists. "She laughed, she said something about my age, and... And then I saw a stain, like a red flower on her chest. Her blouse's white, you know, and there's — there _was_ this red flower, this stain spreading, and then another." He raised his fists, couldn't unclench them. "She grabbed my arm."

A hand landed on his shoulder, and suddenly it was Pelia's hand on his shoulder and he just couldn't believe, couldn't understand what happened. She was saying something, but he couldn't hear. She was pushing something into his pocket and all he could think was _why?_

"Elei?"

"She took out her gun. I didn't see it, but I felt it." His throat closed when the memory rose from some murky depth. He hadn't remembered this part to tell Kalaes. Now it hit him like another gunshot. "She pressed it to my side, right here." His hand uncurled one finger at a time, sought the spot above his hip, there, under the bandage, the healing wound, "right here, she was the one who shot me."

His ears rang and he relived the impact, the white-hot pain in his side, the disorientation. Why would she do such a thing? She'd been like a mother to him.

"Elei." Maera touched his arm, feather-light. "What are you talking about?"

"Pelia shot me." _Dammit_. His fingers curled around his plate and, before he knew what he was doing, he threw it at the wall. He barely heard the crash but saw the shards flying. Maera made a strangled noise in her throat and reached out to grab him.

He pushed back his chair and fled the room before she could.

Chapter 8

With his back against the wall of the bedroom, Elei watched Maera walk in. He folded his arms across his chest like a shield and lifted his chin.

Maera wasn't happy; Elei could see it in the tightness of her mouth. He guessed there was nothing to do for it. She'd asked for the story.

Then again, it might have been the broken plate that had upset her so. Maybe they'd been her favorites, those orange dishes, and now there was one less of them, because of him. He couldn't understand what had made him do it; he didn't usually react like this.

Unless cronion was sensing danger through his memories. Cronion was a brutal one, always out to protect its own. Yet his right eye hadn't twitched and no colors painted his vision.

"Come here," Maera said softly. "It's all right. Honest." She sounded like someone coaxing a wild animal out of hiding.

Maybe that's what he was.

She reached out and tugged at his arm, her lips tilting just a little. Her hand was warm and surprisingly strong. He wondered what her job was and found he didn't have the energy to ask.

She pulled him away from the wall, wrapped him in her arms and her smell of moist earth, and then released him and led him by the hand back into the kitchen. When she sat him back down into his chair, he didn't resist. She'd swept the ceramic pieces to one side. She sat in the other chair and placed her hands on the table. There were fine scars on them, like delicate spiderwebs.

"Why would you say Pelia shot you?" she whispered. "Did you have a fight?"

"No." He shuddered. "I told you. She was happy." And it made no sense.

"Well, shock jumbles our memories." Maera splayed her fingers and he watched, mesmerized. Her nails were narrow and pale and her knuckles sported dark lines. "Listen. Pelia can't have shot you on contact, or even point blank. It would have killed you, or at least destroyed your insides. There would be _dakron_ powder residue around the wound, and burns. I've seen it happen. I used to work at a hospital."

He bowed his head. So his mind was playing tricks. Frustration made his hands shake. "I was shot."

"Has to be a stray bullet. Maybe even the same one that went through her, killing her."

If he couldn't trust even his own memories, then he had nothing to go on. He prodded the image, the sensation of the gun pressed to his side, and it fragmented, mingling with other memories of faces, places and times. It was like sinking into mire.

Maera reached out and caught his wrist. "I knew Pelia."

Her words descended into the quiet. He let them, feeling his gut tighten, and hoped they might go away, swim off like fish.

When he looked up, her dark eyes were bright. She released him. "Won't you ask me how?"

No way had Maera grown up in Ost. He would have known. She was way too cheerful for that. Way too happy. _So..._ "Pelia used to live here."

"Yes. Years ago, when I was very young. She rescued me from the streets. I was sick, close to death. I think it was a plague of aioran flukes, we got a lot of those back then. Some said it was the flooding of the lowlands that caused the outbreak. Pelia cured me. She knew a lot about parasites and medicine, said she'd studied them."

Elei nodded. Of course she did. Pelia was the head of PharmaMed Company.

"She first rescued Kalaes. Then me. Then others. Placed them in Kalaes' care one day and took off." She spoke matter-of-factly, betraying no emotion. "Pelia never returned. We never heard from her again. Until now."

Elei shifted in his chair, uneasy. No wonder Kalaes was so pissed with her. "And did he take other strays in after she left?"

She looked up sharply. "Kalaes? A few. Why?"

He shrugged, cursing himself for asking, for not letting go. "Nothing."

She watched him intently for a moment, and he wondered why. "Kal... He has a weakness. And Pelia took advantage of it."

"What weakness?"

"He wants to protect the weak."

Elei looked away. He wasn't weak.

Yet he wanted to stay.

"Who would kill Pelia?" Without a warning, she jumped to her feet and began to pace. Her combat boots squeaked. Her trousers were stained at the hip, a green stain, maybe from cooking earlier on. "Did you see who shot her?"

He was about to say no, remembering the blood blooming on her white blouse, blinding crimson, but stopped himself. When she'd grabbed his shoulder, he thought he'd seen something outside. Though, that had only been his mind playing tricks, hadn't it? Like a dream half remembered, changing every time you thought about it.

_Screw this. Tell her_. "I saw a helicopter. It had no numbers, just a symbol."

She halted and some strong emotion flickered in her eyes. Was it anger, or fear and sorrow? "Do you remember the symbol? Was it the police disc, or the quarantine hand?"

"Not clearly... Maybe a cone." He saw again the blood glistening on his hands and smelled the acrid _dakron_ fumes. "It was a cone."

"A cone?" Maera shook her chestnut curls. "I don't know what it stands for."

Elei shrugged, not knowing either.

Maera turned her back and paced up and down the room once more, like a caged animal. "Did something happen that day? Something must have been out of the ordinary. Did Pelia say anything? Do you know _why_ she got shot?"

Elei forced his mind back to the last evening. "No."

Pelia had been all smiles and giggles. He'd never seen her like that; usually she was a serious, brooding person. It had started when they'd left the labs. He remembered wondering if she had good news about her research, but she said nothing, so he didn't either. It wasn't his place to ask her. She was his boss, even if she treated him like her son.

Her eyes had shone, a luminous gray, and it had been infectious, that unrestrained laughter. Elei remembered how light his heart had felt; he thought he'd never felt so carefree and hopeful before. She'd talked about enrolling him for another course at the academy, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening with her smile, and she'd ruffled his hair and patted his cheek. She said he'd done so well in the first course, he should go on to study, take a SDA course in mechanics or in electronic design or—

"What happened afterwards, Elei? After Pelia was shot?"

Maera was down on her knees before him, holding his hands. He hadn't noticed when she'd stopped pacing or when she'd knelt. He really should concentrate. Focus on the present.

"After... There was so much blood she kept slipping from my arms..." He shook his head, eyes stinging. "I carried her out of the aircar." He'd been bleeding too, and hurting, and had almost dropped her twice. "I tried to stop the bleeding, but it was too late, and she stopped breathing, and I couldn't bring her back."

And he'd wept then, gods be damned, because he loved the woman like the mother he'd never had, and she was dead. Then more shots had rung out, bullets ricocheting off buildings and aircars, shouts and deafening noise.

"Did the shots come from the helicopter? Are you sure?"

_Sure?_ A snort escaped Elei. Was she kidding him? "I don't know."

"Okay. What happened then?"

"Falx came with his goons, tried to hold me down. 'Where is it?' he kept saying. 'She doesn't have it. I'm damn sure you took it. Where is it?'"

His hands squirmed in Maera's grasp. They'd kicked him and pressed their guns to his head, describing all the things they'd do to him if he didn't cooperate. Caught in the memory, he struggled with the urge to pull away, to break free _. Stop it. This is Maera, not Falx._

"What did he mean?" Maera frowned. "What was he talking about?"

"I don't know." Elei wrenched his hands from hers, buried his fingers in his hair. "And whatever it is, I don't have it. I don't have anything." _Anything at all_.

The memories rushed back, clearer than the previous day. With cronion pumping him full of adrenaline, he'd pushed Falx's men off him. He'd rolled and twisted and drawn his own gun. Though dark had fallen, he'd opened fire on them, surprised and scattered them. Cronion had allowed him to see them clearly in the night. He'd weaved through the narrow alleys and passed through people's homes, scaring their kids and ruining their carpets with blood. He'd jumped out of a window down to the street, not too high, but his watch had been ruined, his wrist half-twisted.

For a long while, the only sound had been his harsh breaths, his heavy steps, the buzzing in his ears. Avoiding the obvious choice, the fast hoverbarges, he'd run to the streetcar lines. Amazing how the ancient vehicles still ran the old lines between the cities of Ost. Their wheels negotiated the road system just fine, but due to their weight, off-road areas — most of Ost really — were off limits.

The streetcar took him to the shore, to one of the cargo ports. There he'd looked for a private, clandestine ferry. As Gultur patrols marched up and down the port main street, he almost gave up. But he'd found a boatman lurking behind an old storehouse, willing to take him across. He'd hidden between the boat benches, curled in a ball of misery, and hadn't surfaced until they left the shore far behind.

"So they think you have something they want. And the Gultur were trying to get it — or destroy it. But you don't have it."

"No, I don't."

She waited, silent, for him to say more. She seemed morose, and her down-turned mouth looked out of place on her normally smiling face. "Are you sure? Where else did you go that day?"

"The same places. Home, then work."

"No clues then." She exhaled loudly. "Well, at least you're here," she said, cheer returning to her voice, "and you're safe".

_Right._ That was what he kept telling himself. They'd given up, hadn't they? After all, they must have realized he had nothing they wanted. Nothing anyone wanted. The one person who had believed in him was now dead. He had no money, no friends, and no home. And Kalaes took in no strays, not anymore.

"Did Kalaes say that to you?" Her voice sharpened. "He'll get such a scolding when he comes home."

She sounded horrified, and he was horrified himself that he'd spoken the words aloud. _I'm really losing it._ He needed to pull himself together. Then he realized he'd told himself that a number of times already and it didn't seem to be working.

"Listen, Maera, I—"

"You listen to _me_ , Elei." She looked into his eyes and held his gaze. "Pelia sent you here for a reason. Kalaes has his issues, but he was worried about you when he called this morning. He does care. Don't run away."

Run away, where? He wanted to laugh at that, only it wasn't funny.

"Okay," he said.

She smiled again. She looked so much prettier that way he decided to try, though he'd probably fail, to keep her smiling.

* * *

Hera leaned closer to get a better view of the old and stained round screen of the data processor.

Iliathan tapped on it. His nail had been chewed to the quick. "There." A red light flashed on the schema of the police headquarters. "A large airforce is mobilizing. Light weaponry, probably incendiary grenades as well."

Ice trickled down her back. She shook off a shiver. "They must have a lead then, or else they would not move. Where are they heading?"

Iliathan bent forward and his blond, shaggy mane obscured the screen. Hera fought the impulse to grab him by the hair and throw him back against the wall.

Be nice.

"Looks like they're heading north-east," he mumbled, unaware he'd been that close to decorating his own wall. "Hells, there's nothing there. Just two-three small towns."

"Which ones? Show me."

He leaned back, tracing three urban sprawls with a grimy forefinger. "There. See? Aerica, Baris, Pydna."

_Sobek's ugly balls_. "I have to find him, before they do. They'll kill him, Ilia."

"He's survived so far." Iliathan cracked his knuckles, setting her teeth on edge. Throttling her contact was surely a bad idea, but it would be, oh, so satisfactory.

"That is no guarantee he'll survive further." With a sigh of weariness, she passed a hand over her eyes. "Can you find out where exactly they're heading?"

"Crack their codes, you mean?" He was already rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Her lips twitched. "Yes. Track him down. Hurry up." Turning her back to him and the screen, she folded her arms under her breasts.

She hated this waiting and hoping and depending on others. It was impractical, time-consuming and nerve-wracking.

"Hey, Hera." She looked around. His fingers moved rapidly on the keyboard and he did not look up as he spoke. "You know that question you asked me about a month ago?"

"Now is not the time, Ilia." She swallowed down her anxiety and fear like a bitter medicine. "We're in the middle of something serious."

"I just thought you might want to know," he shrugged, "what I found out about the codename you gave me. The siren. But I guess you're not really interested."

_Project Siren_. Her pulse leaped. _Oh what in the hells_. "Tell me."

"Ah, so now you want to know? Say please."

She scowled. "Speak and stop wasting my time."

He glanced up at her, an eyebrow lifted. "Fine." He turned back to the screen, typing and retyping passwords. "Siren's a classified project. A link seems to exist to the island of Torq in the west. Some sea operation of some sort."

_Torq?_ "Yes?" Hera tapped her foot. "Give me data, Ilia."

"It's something about origins." Ilia waved a hand dismissively. "The origins of the islands or some such crap."

Hera gasped and covered it with a low growl. "Get back to work." Allowing herself to be distracted and drawn into other matters because of her damned dreams was unacceptable. Finding Eles was the priority. Getting the shipment was paramount. "We need to track this boy down now."

Iliathan snorted and went on typing. "As you say."

Hera wrung her hands together. _They are coming for you, Eles. Flee_.

Chapter 9

Elei threw away the broken shards of the unfortunate plate and helped clean the remaining dishes with a rag. Maera talked about her monotonous job at the _dakron_ purification factory.

She worked the machinery. Sometimes she had to travel up north to the processing plant for samples, but didn't drive, whereas Kalaes was an experienced driver. He was one of the few in Aerica allowed to drive the heavy air-trucks to the Gultur outposts. He'd be coming back from a drive to the east that afternoon, having delivered purified _dakron_ to a Gultur storehouse. He'd probably pass by the market and get some food provisions on the way. There was nothing left to eat on his shelves, and above all not even water.

Water was the most expensive commodity, even on Dakru. That puzzled him, because Dakru had clean and abundant water sources, unlike Ost. But of course the Gultur controlled the center of the island and with it the water springing from the mountains — all the natural fountains of Dakru. There was power in controlling something so essential to human life, in a land where it practically never rained. With mountains too low to stop the clouds, those sailed away over the sea.

Rumors were that the Bone Tower, their sacred citadel, had lakes and brooks of water running down the streets, flanked by green trees and hedges full of colorful birds. Elei had seen a tree laden with red fruit once, outside a Gultur temple. Nobody knew where the Gultur found the green plants. Rumors also were that their temples stood in water with bridges linking them to shore — clear, sweet water, not sea brine.

Hard to imagine.

Maera chattered away for a long time. Her cadence was even and soothing, and it let Elei weave in and out of his confused thoughts and memories. Her voice was always there, almost tangible, a rope that pulled him back from the chasm each time, anchoring him to the present.

When she began preparations to go, grabbing a scarf here, a sweater there, he fought not to panic. He told himself it was absurd to need someone there with him. Only children needed to be held and comforted; only children were afraid to be alone. He took deep breaths and forced his shoulders to relax.

She picked up her bag from a corner of the room, pulled on her jacket. "Kalaes will be here soon. He's running a little late, he's probably found lines at the market, and I've got to run a few errands, pass from home to change, and then work. I have the night shift for this week and then I'll have the mornings. Much better for one's life, huh? I'll just have to talk to Kalaes another day."

He resisted the urge to grab and hold on to her. "Maera, please..."

She only smiled at him and shut the door behind her.

He stood in the middle of the bedroom, feeling lost and cold. What should he do now?

He hadn't felt that way since Albi died, but hells, he'd been just a child then. He was a man now. Forget that he'd broken down the previous night in front of Kalaes. Just like a child might.

Dammit.

He went to the chair and picked up his Rasmus. To calm down, he disassembled the gun. The magazine came out first, and then he double-checked the chamber, making sure no round was left inside. With a thin punch he always kept in the holster, he field-stripped the gun and broke it down to its parts, piece by tiny piece, first the slide, then the firing pin spring, the metal frame and the trigger. He cleaned them on a patch of his t-shirt that wasn't stiff with dried blood and checked for humidity and mold, for anything that could cause trouble. But everything looked fine.

He quickly put it back together, inserted the magazine and wiped an imaginary stain from its barrel. He bowed his head. His boots were caked in dry mud. His blood-stiffened jacket hung on the back of the chair, incongruous in the cheerful little apartment.

He had a feeling he'd outstayed his... well, his welcome, if that was the right word. He wasn't sure how Kalaes saw his presence there, no matter what Maera said, and then... Then he had a feeling there was something he couldn't see, though it was right in front of his eyes. He realized cronion was in the fore, tightening his belly, pressing inside his head. Warning him.

But of what? He was safe, safe there, and he repeated the mantra until he could take a deep breath and release his hold on his gun.

He had the gun out in a heartbeat and aiming when something rattled. He jumped to his feet just before the door was thrown open. A man stood at the opening, orange flashing on his chest and crimson pulsing over his heart and head. The world around them went dark and hushed as Elei took aim.

The wild shape of the hair and the wide set of shoulders were familiar.

_Stop_. Elei forced his hand down until the Rasmus pointed to the floor. _Just stop_.

Kalaes stood there, wide-eyed, arms tight around two bulging cloth bags. The spikes of his black hair pointed up, as if he'd been pulling on them all day. "Elei?"

He backed away, his mind still screeching. "Sorry."

Kalaes entered, steps dragging, and nudged the door shut with his foot. He gazed at Elei for a moment, shook his head and headed for the kitchen. Elei heard the bags drop on the table, heard the steps return. Hands took the Rasmus away.

"Come sit here."

The bed creaked as Kalaes sat. He seemed tired. Dark circles marked his eyes. It must have been a hell of a day. Elei suddenly wondered where Kalaes had slept if Elei had taken his bed. The chair didn't look very comfortable.

Elei sat down on the bed.

"Maera called me, told me what you said. Look at me Elei." Kalaes' eyes were narrowed. "Is there any chance this Falx guy has followed you here, to Aerica?"

"I think not." Yet he wondered. Had someone followed him? Nothing had happened so far; he had to hope he was safe.

The lines of Kalaes' mouth relaxed. "Life has been quiet here for some time now. I haven't had a gun shoved into my face in years. You just..." Kalaes placed the gun on the bed and crossed his arms. "Where did you come from anyway? You never said. I thought Pelia might have gone to Kukno or Torq..."

"Ost."

"You're joking!" Kalaes' brows arched. "No wonder you caught telmion, fe. What in the hells was Pelia doing on Ost, the backwater of the world?"

"She headed the drug company. She was looking for a vaccine or a cure." Elei hesitated. Should he trust cronion, trust that being with Kalaes was safe? Pelia had sent him there and she ought to know what she was doing. But could he trust anyone? "A cure for telmion. That's what she told me."

"Did she try it on you?"

"No, no good. I have cronion, it complicates things."

"Could that be what this Falx is after?"

Elei shrugged and it pulled on his healing wound. He supposed it could. But why wouldn't she have told him if the cure had been found? She'd talked to him about practically everything else.

Kalaes rose, startling him. "Come, fe, let's make something to eat, both you and I need it."

Elei followed him, stomach rumbling at the thought of food. Kalaes took different packages from the bags and spread them on the kitchen table. Elei stared at Kalaes' hands, at his strong set of shoulders. Whereas his face was smooth and young, his hands were lined and bore the mark of several non-lethal diseases. Elei easily recognized the spiral scars left by _urion_ , he had one of his own on his chest, and the circular ones left by _trieter_ , where the larvae had eaten through the tissue before they'd been found and extracted. He remembered how that had felt, the wiggling, maddening sensation, and the sharp pain of their jaws as he'd suffocated them with a wet patch and pulled them out, one by one.

He shivered.

Then Kalaes turned his wide smile on him and Elei ducked his head. "Lots to eat, and none of Maera's mash breakfast!"

Elei had no objection to anything that could be eaten, mash or not, so he just nodded and picked at the packages, curious. He recognized a couple, the box of red mushrooms, blue bread made of sapphire-algae, two pieces of smoked eel, a basket of K-fungi blooms. His mouth watered. He reached over and grabbed a knife to cut the bread, then realized with a start he was weighing it in his hand, judging how well-balanced it was for throwing, and frowned.

Cronion still hadn't relaxed completely. Then again no colors flashed around him, so maybe it was a matter of time until it did.

He bent to work, cut the blue loaf into thin slices, watched them pile. The smell of spices made him lift his head and he watched Kalaes mixing flour and eggs in the bowl. He stopped slicing bread and stared at the dance of Kalaes' hands stirring and adding ingredients, spices and salt. There was something familiar about what he was doing.

"You're making fooncakes!" His heart hurt with a bittersweet pain.

Kalaes turned, his hands stilling, and Elei looked down, horrified at himself. For he knew exactly whom he'd seen making fooncakes that way before, and who had taught Kalaes.

"Pelia taught me," Kalaes said in a flat voice and turned back to the pan.

Elei let out a long breath. He wondered if Pelia had been as much a mother to Kalaes as she'd been to himself. Teaching him how to speak all proper, to cook and clean, to better his reading, to look after himself and to nurse himself to health after a bout of disease. Wondered if she'd also held Kalaes' hand when he was sick and brought him medicine and food, if she'd admonished him to ignore the others' teasing and bullying, if she'd taught him to recognize affection when he saw it and embrace it.

Only to lose it again.

Elei shivered and laid the knife on the table, not trusting his hands. Cronion had never controlled him so much before; the balance between it and telmion had been near perfect — one making him aggressive, the other meek. Together they made him whole. Sometimes he wondered who he'd been before the twin infections. He'd been so little when he contracted them he couldn't remember what it was like not to have them. Sometimes he wondered if he would like what lay underneath it all. If there was anything left.

Kalaes flipped the fooncakes and dished them out into one of the orange plates. He turned, placed it on the table, along with a bottle of water and two glasses. He emptied the K-fungi in a bowl and pulled a chair. Elei sat down too, trying not to think too hard about what came next, about this being his last day here, in this little apartment, about leaving and trying to make ends meet in a place, in a life where he knew no-one and nothing.

"Hey, don't look so morose." Kalaes reached out and gave him a light shove. His smile was back, wide and inviting, and Elei relaxed a little more. "Eat, here, the blooms are good, and my fooncakes are the best in town."

Elei chewed slowly, savoring the sweet blooms, and the cakes which were spicy and tangy. The bread was much better than any he'd tried on Ost, nutty and filling, and the eel melted in his mouth.

Kalaes served him water. "When did you first know you had telmion?"

Elei went on chewing, not wanting to remember, but then he had to stop and put the blue bread down. He was eating Kalaes' food, sleeping under his roof, and the guy had asked Elei a simple question. He owed him an answer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and fingered the rim of his plate. "I was very little. Don't know how old."

"What did your parents do?"

"Parents?"

The thought had never occurred to him, not that he remembered at least. Parents. A strange concept.

"Your mother. Someone gave birth to you, didn't they, fe?"

_Put that way..._ "I suppose so."

Kalaes suddenly laughed out loud, startling him. "You're... unpredictable, fe. So, no parents. Who raised you then?"

"Albi."

"A woman? She took you in, then."

Well, you could say that. After all, _'in'_ could mean many things. He nodded. Albi had no house. But she'd had a big heart. And she'd taken him in.

"So what were the first symptoms?" Kalaes piled blooms on a slice of bread and stuffed himself, cheeks bulging. He went on chewing, oblivious to how funny he looked.

Elei's mouth tried to grin again, its corners twitching, but the memory he was supposed to unearth stopped it. Symptoms. He had to think about that. It'd been long ago. "My skin, those strange marks. Then the pain. The vomiting." There, he still remembered. Perhaps he'd never forget. "Then Albi found me."

"And gave you cronion."

Elei licked dry lips. She'd saved him in the nick of time. He'd been so dehydrated his body had begun to fail. She'd given him a kiss of life or death. Life had prevailed. "Yes."

Kalaes chewed on another cake. "The streets are a mean place to be when you are small. I know how it is. I had my gang, we protected each other. Then, when we got sick, Pelia came along and took us in."

Elei's heart was in his throat. Protection. Kalaes made him feel safe, like Albi had. He had an aura of strength around him that promised calm. Even cronion relaxed when Kalaes was there. Elei wanted to stay there, with him. So he said nothing. He bit into a bloom and it tasted of ashes and frustration.

"Were you in a street gang? Did you have a protector?" Kalaes waved a bloom in the air with his tattooed hand.

Well, obviously he did. Hadn't he said so? "Albi."

"No others? How did you stand against other gangs?"

"There're no street gangs in the trashlands."

He would have thought it was obvious. After all, there were no streets in the trashlands, and for apparent reasons so few people lived there that it was easy to keep a distance. No social calls, no greetings. Trying to avoid disease was half the job. The other half was finding something edible enough or something sellable to exchange for something edible and for water. And that was that. No energy for squabble.

Elei wondered why Kalaes put down the cake, arched an eyebrow and gave him a wary look.

"Trashlands. Why would you live there?"

"Albi lived there."

"She took you there?"

"She found me there."

Kalaes looked green. "Wait. She found you there? Among the trash?"

Elei frowned. Was it so strange? Albi had never commented on it. There were all sorts of strange things among the trash. A child was just one more. Wasn't it?

"She said I was left there." Said she'd found other children before, but they had died. All of them. Telmion was a killer once it got you and it loved rotten garbage and standing water. Rotting flesh and offal and sourness and rat's fur—

"What is she, a trash gatherer?"

Elei blinked. "Yeah, that's what she was."

And she was kind, she was funny, she was gruff, she was affectionate, she was—

"Sorry, fe. Hey! Eat up your cake." Kalaes was smiling again and it looked a little strained. At a loss, Elei stuffed the cake in his mouth, but couldn't swallow. He took a sip of water to wash it down.

Kalaes was silent for a spell. Then he got up and gathered the plates, keeping his back to Elei. His shoulders seemed to have narrowed, his back hunched over. He placed the dishes into a bucket and turned, a smile on his lips but a pained look in his eyes. "Enough of sad memories. Come!"

Elei was firmly pulled to his feet and he followed Kalaes to the other room, curious and dreading what would come next.

"Go wash yourself. You stink and you're still covered in blood. After you clean up, we're going out."

_Out?_ But Elei nodded without a word and forced himself to move. Sure, he stank of old blood and sweat. He could try to wash that away. For the smell of telmion there was nothing he could do. Strange scent, sweet and musty, trying to attract other hosts of related parasites — mainly gray rats, cats and small black flies. Such creatures might already be following him, if cronion hadn't intervened with its own spicy smell, a rough olfactory fabric shrouding him at all times.

After closing the door of the cubicle behind him, he undressed slowly. First he pulled off the blood-stiffened t-shirt and shuddered. It was cold and he felt exposed, more naked than the loss of the cloth layers warranted; he felt naked to his soul.

Pelia was dead and he'd left Ost to venture into an unknown world where he didn't know anyone and hadn't learned the rules.

"Great gods in the deep..." He resisted the urge to kneel and pray, as the monks who'd taken him in after Albi's death had taught him. That was a habit he'd given up when he realized the gods wouldn't bring Albi back.

Useless. The gods. The faith.

He unbound the bandage and let it fall to the floor. The wound seemed to be healing fine and he prodded it lightly. No sign of infection, though it was still tender. With a wince, he bent over to remove his boots and the rest of his clothes. He scrunched up his nose at the cloying smell of old blood and sweat. Stinking was an understatement.

He wet the washing rag and passed it over himself, shivering at the cold touch. With the gray soap from the sink, he washed himself as best he could, splashing some water, feeling guilty about wasting it when it was so expensive and unable to avoid it. His torso was so covered in dried blood that he ended up scraping at it with his fingernails to get it off. He scratched and scored the dark paste from the furrows left by the _colmus_ parasite in his sides until he could do no more. He washed his hands, digging the blood from under his fingernails, but it stuck like a curse.

Not all of that blood was his. Most of it was Pelia's. So much blood pouring from her, drenching him. Elei rubbed at his stinging eyes and bit back a sob. _Enough_. A towel hung on a nail on the door. He rubbed himself dry until his skin turned red. When he finished, the towel was a rusty brown.

He was staring at it when the door creaked open. He stumbled and banged his knee against the water cabinet. Cursing under his breath, he glanced over his shoulder at the intruder.

"Clothes." Kalaes dropped the bundle to the floor. Then he stopped, utterly still, and gaped. Elei pressed his lips together. He knew what Kalaes saw. The tel-marks on his back were a sight. _Snakeskin_ they called it on Ost — gray scales, iridescent and hard. They covered the top of his back and shoulders, the back of his forearms, buttocks, and legs.

The snake disease.

And then, where scales and skin met, the signs of cronion, the resistance, formed flower designs. Those were the spots where the spread of telmion had stopped, on the surface as well as inside. There was perhaps nobody else who had such an armor of serpent skin, so extended, so perfected. He'd carried the full-blown disease for seven days. Albi had calculated it from the surface covered by the scales, before cronion was inserted into him and started work. Even then, it'd taken three days for the spread to stop.

Kalaes whistled, his eyes strangely bright. "Pissing amazing, fe." Then he seemed to realize staring made Elei uncomfortable, for he tsked, turned and left.

When Elei heard him banging pans and dishes in the kitchen, he bent, gathered the clothes and pulled them on. The t-shirt and the polo neck sweater were a little wide at the shoulders, but they smelled clean and he was glad for that. The pants hung low on his hipbones. There was even clean underwear and a pair of socks. He dressed slowly, apprehension lying like dead weight across his shoulders.

Hands on the tiny sink, he bowed his head. If there was any way to avoid talking of what would come next, leaving, facing again the unknown, he'd take it in a heartbeat.

Foolish.

When he finally emerged, Kalaes waited in what was turning out to be his favorite posture, arms folded across his chest, legs apart, and a grin plastered on his face.

"Heh, you don't look half so bad in my clothes, fe. That's what style does for you."

Elei shook his head, the slight tugging at his lips becoming annoying. What was there to smile about anyway? "Where are we going?"

"To do some laundry."

It made sense. _But..._ "I got no money left." Even though he'd told Kalaes all he remembered about his escape from Ost, he felt embarrassed enough to need to explain more. "Used my last dils to charter the boat and then the aircar to come here."

Kalaes patted Elei's back. "Just get ready."

Elei gathered his dirty clothes and stuffed them in a duffel bag Kalaes produced seemingly out of thin air. He snatched his Rasmus, made sure the safety was on and holstered it to follow Kalaes out into the cool evening.

He had thought he'd seen the street below. After all, he'd walked it up and down looking for the building only the previous night. But he could recognize nothing. In his memory, there were only black and white shapes, harsh angles and façades. Now he saw colors, the red of crawling lichens on fences, the blue of antifungal paint on walls, and the rainbow colors of old aircars zipping by.

Kalaes whistled and a man shuffled from the shadows, an _ama_ cigarette hanging from his lips.

"What's up?" A scar marred his face. Elei recognized the man who'd bumped into him the previous day, on his way to Kalaes' building.

"Going to the launderette." Kalaes tossed the man a coin. "Cover us."

So this was one of Kalaes' outmen, a watchdog, acting the middle man to street gangs. Pelia had explained to him how things in the city worked once he'd left the monks to be her driver. Pay for protection or die on your first day.

The man nodded slowly and rubbed the coin between his fingers. "Done." He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned closer. "Linus says the Gultur showed up on the east side and gunned down three men. Never explained why."

Kalaes' mouth settled in a straight line. "Again."

"Again," Elei whispered. Fear chilled his insides. He pulled on his hood, as if that would ward off the cold inside. He remembered the Gultur dragging those naked men to their temple and gunning two of them down. "What's going on?"

"Thanks, Deno." Kalaes walked on as if nothing had been said, carrying the bag of laundry, and Elei hurried to catch up. "It's because of the Undercurrent," Kalaes whispered. "The Gultur are launching a war of terror, killing anyone who dares speak up against them. They say they pick on men most, for being different from them." His hand fisted against his side, and Elei wondered again what the spiral tattoo stood for. "If I had one chance to take their power away, I'd do it in a blink. Look at this!" He gestured at the dilapidated buildings. "Look at how life on Ost is, and the other islands. How they strip us of our liberties and resources one by one — the water, the _dakron_ , the weapons, the factories. Everything belongs to them."

A sharp whistle pierced the night and Kalaes hissed. It had to be Deno, warning them of something. Kalaes glanced back, but continued walking. "Keep moving. Don't change your pace. Look down."

The cold spread in Elei's body all the way to his toes. Despite Kalaes' advice, he peered behind him and saw Deno's lanky shadow follow at a distance, marked by the tremulous light of his cigarette. "What is it?"

"Gultur."

Then heavy footfalls sounded and a Gultur patrol marched by, holding transparent shields and tapping electric batons against their thighs as they walked. Their visored faces were blank, the only difference between them the color of their hair, caught in high ponytails, swinging behind them, rusty red, golden blond, _dakron_ black.

Elei hastily bent his head, hiding his face in the shadow of his hood.

Not fifty paces down the street, Kalaes pushed open a dusty door and they entered into the laundry shop. It was narrow and stuffy, two small windows letting in curdled light, and they were the only customers. The wash-machines lined the wall, black and dusty, their openings dark like howling mouths.

Elei tried to see outside, to catch a glimpse of the patrol, but the shop front was blinded.

"They're gone," Kalaes said, his voice pitched lower than normal, so low it vibrated. Kalaes wasn't so much afraid, Elei realized, as pissing angry.

They fed the clothes into a machine. Kalaes added some of his own to make it worth the money. He stuck a dil inside the slot, and they sat back on the _nepheline_ bench and watched the clothes tumble in jets of steam.

And that was that, Elei thought and gripped the edge of the bench with a sinking feeling in his gut. Fed and washed, his clothes clean and dry, his wound bandaged, he'd change and go. Kalaes had helped him enough. More than enough.

It would be fine, he told himself. He'd go and ask if anybody needed a driver, a worker, a machinery handler. Perhaps Maera would know. He'd find a place to stay, a room like the one he'd had in Ost. Then he wondered if he'd have to pay the street gangs to leave him in peace here, too, and just how dangerous it would be to start looking. He'd have to ask Kalaes about that. Maybe Kalaes could put him in touch with someone trustworthy. Elei knew from Ost that a cheap place always meant a bad neighborhood, and that meant danger of rape and even murder.

He'd had one or two close calls in Ost, before Pelia found him a place. With the salary she gave him, he'd been able to afford it.

No chance he'd get that kind of salary here. Without certifications and a recommendation letter, he'd be lucky to get any job. There was just no going back.

The hand that fell on his shoulder startled a small cry out of him.

Kalaes' eyes were laughing. "Thinking again, fe? It's frying your brain, I can hear it sizzle." He squeezed Elei's shoulder, pinned him with his dark gaze. "What's on your mind?"

A thousand thoughts, whirring like revolving blades. Elei leaned back and rested his shoulders and head on the wall. "Thinking about tomorrow."

"You think too much." Kalaes chuckled. Elei wondered what in the hells he found so funny. "Maera told me she half-scared you to death this morning."

Elei ducked his head, heat licking his neck.

"Listen to me, Elei." Kalaes' voice dropped, all laughter gone from his face. "Dakru isn't a good place to stay. Not safe."

The threat of Gultur. Elei shrugged. "Neither is Ost." He had no preference between a bullet from the Gultur and a knifing from the streetgangs.

"All right." Kalaes shook his head. "I'll ask around, help you as much as I can to find a job and a room." He squeezed Elei's shoulder one last time and released him. "Will you just relax now and take that look off your face? It's making me nervous and, anyway, it's too old for you, fe."

Again something bright and altogether sad passed through Kalaes' eyes. It was gone in a flash and left Elei wondering if he was imagining things.

"Say, I'd have taken you out for a drink tonight, gods know I need one, but the Gultur bolted down all bars on Dakru."

Elei frowned. "But tonight—"

"Tonight you're crashing with me, or else Maera'll have my head. Tomorrow is another day."

Hells, Kalaes was probably doing this against his will and would kick Elei out as soon as morning dawned. Elei slumped back. "Thanks." He struggled to say something more, something nice. "Maera's great."

"Yes, she is." Kalaes leaned back, too, resting his head on his interlaced hands. He smirked. "I told her you're not a puppy to be taken in like that, without asking, though."

"Huh." Elei tensed more, the tendons in his neck aching. "And what did she say?"

"She laughed. Told me nothing was stopping me from asking you."

Elei's pulse doubled, beating in his temples.

"So I'm asking you, would you crash in my home again tonight?"

The muscles in Elei's face relaxed and cronion kind of sighed inside him. The grip in his middle and the incessant throbbing in his head went down a notch and left him blinking. _One more night of safety_. "Okay."

Kalaes grinned widely.

Elei supposed things couldn't be all that bad if Kalaes was grinning.

So he smiled.

Chapter 10

"Kalaes!" a woman's high-pitched voice called. "Hey! Wait up!"

Elei started, his breath cut short. Kalaes stopped a few steps up, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, head cocked to the side. In the faint radiance spiraling down from the windows of the second floor stood a middle-aged woman, dressed in a filthy pink robe and scuffed slippers. She leaned on the wall and puffed a cloud of sweet _ama_ smoke in their direction.

Kalaes sighed, shoved the duffel with their dry laundry into Elei's hands and climbed the rest of the steps. He strode up to her. "Hey, Zea. Everything all right?"

She nodded. "Someone came looking for you. A young woman."

"For me?" Kalaes folded his arms across his chest and gave her a sideways look.

Her face wrinkled more and she pursed her painted lips. "Not you, sweetheart, for the boy here."

Elei looked at her pointing finger and realized she was talking about him. "Me?" He climbed to the landing and stood next to Kalaes.

"Kalaes is nineteen, and although he's pretty as a picture," she winked at Kalaes who rolled his eyes, "I can't really call him a boy, now, can I?"

Elei shrugged. He was just an inch or two shorter than Kalaes, but he was thinner and narrower of shoulders. His age was a mystery to him, but he'd signed without hesitation the legal documents produced by the monks which stated his maturity, when Pelia had said she needed an adult to drive her aircar.

"A boy with different colored eyes, she said. Not many of them around, I said." She raised a too-thin, plucked eyebrow. "She told me she's a friend of yours. I told her you were out, didn't know when you'd be back."

_Friend?_ Elei realized he'd dropped the duffel bag and was backing away, inching toward the stairs. His right eye throbbed and faint flashes of colors jumped on each surface — on Zea's chest, on Kalaes' broad back. With his foot, Elei found the first step and climbed down.

"Any idea who the woman might be?" Kalaes scratched the back of his head. "Hey, Elei..." He turned. "Elei? Where're you going, fe? Apartment's up, not down!"

Elei's ears roared. He missed a step, but Kalaes' hand closed around his arm and yanked him back up. "Elei, can you hear me?" Now he sounded concerned. "Come on, fe, don't freak out on me again."

But he was. Time splintered into uneven slabs. At some point, he realized he'd been walking with Kalaes' voice droning in his ears like a damn mosquito, yet he couldn't tell how or when he found himself back in Kalaes' apartment. One moment he was outside, the next he leaned on the wall, beside Kalaes' bed.

Kalaes locked the door and dropped the duffel on the bed. "Listen to me. I take it that you weren't expecting any woman to drop by, right?" He lifted a dark brow. "Only guessing here, since you aren't one for much talking. Any clue who she is?"

Elei shook his head. He didn't know many women. Apart from Pelia, he only knew his concierge, Pelia's concierge, and an _ama_ cigarette vendor on Ost. Oh, and the aircar driver. What was her name? Fia. That pretty much covered his female acquaintances. Besides, nobody should know where he was staying now.

"Are we thinking the same thing, fe?" Kalaes raked his fingers through his wild hair and tugged on the two braids. "They came after you; they still think you got what they're after. How in the hells did they find you?"

"I don't know." _The boatman. The woman at the diner. Timmy. Fia_. He rubbed his neck. He'd left a trail. Of course he had. Only he hadn't thought anyone wanted him so desperately to come looking. "I wasn't careful."

"You made it out alive," Kalaes said grimly, "and I'm getting a feeling it wasn't that easy."

Elei looked away, uncomfortable.

"They won't kill you," Kalaes said, "they won't risk damaging what they think you have."

_Right_. And he knew that, how? "Maybe they just want to destroy it." After all, they'd shot Pelia, hadn't they? They hadn't politely asked her to give them whatever in the hells it was they wanted.

"Why?"

Elei sighed, frustrated. "I don't know. It's a feeling, that's all." _A very bad feeling_.

"I thought it was a guy after you, this Falx and his gang, not a woman."

"Yeah, me too."

"Look." Kalaes rubbed his face. "I'm beat, I need to sleep. I can't think straight like this. Whoever that woman was, she was alone, she asked for you very decently, and she isn't here now."

Might be nice to have Kalaes' positive outlook on life. Elei could see a thousand paths, a thousand possibilities, and none of them pleasant.

Kalaes rummaged in a trunk and threw Elei a striped blue and green blanket. "Get some sleep, fe." Kalaes fell on the bed and pulled the covers up to his waist. He yawned so hard his jaw cracked. "G'dnight."

Kalaes was right. The woman who'd asked about him wasn't there. Then why was cronion on the fore, tightening his insides?

Or maybe he'd felt safe, protected, for so long with Pelia, he'd forgotten what it was like to fend for himself. Maybe cronion was just reminding him that there was no rest, no relaxation in the real world.

When Elei looked up, Kalaes was already fast asleep. He watched the black-clad chest rise and fall for a while and tried to relax. He wrapped himself in the blanket and sank against the wall, letting himself slide down.

He kept the Rasmus out, in the general direction of the door, though he left the safety on. Accidentally shooting himself in the foot was the last thing he needed. He shifted, seeking a more comfortable position, his gut tight, his head throbbing, the world flashing in colors, every detail painfully sharp. He pulled his hood forward, half-hiding his face, and closed his eyes, but images kept playing behind his lids — Pelia, the girl in the alley, the Gultur shooting the men. The boatman, Timmy, Fia, his endless wandering in the streets, all that had happened ran in an endless loop, providing no new clues, just more headache.

Who was that woman who asked for him? Was it someone he knew? Hells, Falx had tried to kill him and Elei had always thought him his friend. What if the _ama_ vendor from Ost turned out to be after his head too?

He was being paranoid. But who could blame him, under the circumstances? The world made no sense.

Dawn was seeping through the windows, red as blood, when he finally slept and dreamed that a little girl stood before him, her small naked feet in the clear water of a huge fountain. The fountain was in the shape of a seashell carved of white marble. Soft waves of blond hair fell around her cat-like face, framing her large, dark eyes. She wore a long yellow dress with dark stains like blood down the front.

"Elei." She bent over and placed a small hand on his cheek. "I am Poena."

The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. He reached out to touch her and her arm was solid, warm, and her scent powdery, milky. "Do I know you?"

She slipped from his fingers like an eel. "I bring a message from the king in you."

He drew his hand back. "The king?" Something was off. No child talked like that. "What king, what are you on about?"

She smiled, showing black gaps in her teeth. "Find the silvery lake at the temple, spill blood into the water, turn the water red." Tears formed in her gray eyes, rolled down her cheeks, framing her smile with shiny tracks. "Do you hear me? Spill blood. Spill it all. You must."

* * *

Coordinates found, Hera hurried out of Iliathan's tiny basement, letting the door slam behind her, and climbed the iron ladder onto his small aircar. With one step she reached the cabin and wrenched the door open. The cockpit was cramped and smelled of engine oil. Bent, she scooted over to the driver's seat. One more person could fit next to her, and two more people behind. A good, practical size. She hummed her approval.

The longgun secured under one foot, she took stock of the driving panel. Standard. Using Iliathan's code, she started the engine and flipped on the equilibrators and emergency lights.

She had the name of a town, even a street and a number. Someone was very serious about their work. They'd interrogated anyone who might have seen Eles on his flight. Grudgingly, Hera had to admit they'd done a much better job than her.

Then again, she had not tortured anyone to get the information. She shuddered as the details and photos from the reports flashed before her eyes.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Iliathan raced out onto the street yelling, waving his arms in the air. His hair stuck out like the spines of a sea urchin. "You can't take that aircar! It belongs to the company. They'll fire me!"

"I'll bring it back," she shouted and smirked. _One day_. "It's an emergency."

"Yeah." His hands curled into fists. She could barely hear his voice now. "I like you Hera, I really do, but that boy's probably already roast meat or charcoal by now and I need that aircar. Are you even listening to me?" He pulled out his gun and trained it on her. "Hera, damn you!"

_Eles had better not be dead_. Hera accelerated, passed by Iliathan, knowing he would not shoot her, and set the course for Aerica and the apartment of Kalaes Ster. _He had damn well better not be._

Chapter 11

Elei paced the room, his stomach cramped like a stone lodged under his ribs. A bleep had woken him at the crack of dawn and Kalaes had staggered past him with his beeper in hand. He'd gone to work and Elei had dozed off for a while longer. Dawn had turned to late morning by the time he stood up, golden light spilling through the window, and a check of the apartment had shown him he was indeed alone.

He reached the wall and turned back. And again. It was too quiet. No sound from outside. No aircars passing. No voices. He stopped, his heart beating too fast, then backtracked until his back was pressed to the wall. He curled his fingers around the handle of his gun. Inside the building, he heard a woman's cry. A whiff of _dakron_ teased his nostrils.

His right eye twitched and throbbed. Everything inside the room began to glow, their outlines impossibly bright, as if burning with white fire. His legs tensed, quivering with the need to run.

Danger.

Yet no colors flashed in his eyes. He hesitated, caught between relief and fear. Cronion hadn't activated his heat sensitive vision, which could mean that he was wrong. That he was safe.

Though his insides wouldn't knot like that if he was, would they? Sweat rolled down his temples, down his back and his heart pumped furiously.

A crash sounded from above.

Before he realized what he was doing, he wrenched the door open and ran out. He glanced right and left. The corridor was empty. Voices rang from above. Then the hum of aircars came from outside, so deep it sent an ache into his teeth.

_See?_ he told himself. _There're sounds._ _Nothing's out of the ordinary. Stand down_.

But the corridor swam in an eerie glow and his heart hammered against his ribs. He started down the stairs — just to check, just to set his heart and damned cronion at ease.

Whispers.

He paused, his back plastered to the wall, and listened. Male voices conversed below. A faint scent of smoke tickled his nose. Elei stepped back toward the apartment and the corridor flashed with pale, washed out colors, blue, green, faint yellow, watery pink. He jerked around in a circle.

Nobody and nothing was there. No assailants, no fire, no danger. Was cronion running mad? He strode back to Kalaes' apartment and gripped the door handle. A thundering sound filled his ears, like the whiz of helicopters and planes, gathering in a great swarm, descending on him. The stench of burnt _dakron_ filled his nostrils.

A sharp ache rushed from his right eye to encompass the right side of his head. He clutched it, reeling against the wall. What in the hells was wrong?

Danger. Flee. Leave the building.

There had to be an emergency exit. He forced himself not to run and instead walked to the other end of the corridor. When he reached the emergency door, he took a deep breath and tried the handle.

_Locked_. A howl was building in his chest. Swallowing it, he kicked the door, pummeled it with his fists. His head buzzed unpleasantly. He rattled the handle, desperation heavy in his stomach, then he forced himself to look at the lock more closely. The design was unfamiliar, a plain metal sheet with strange symbols engraved on its surface.

The thundering sound intensified, drilling inside his skull. The colors around him flared, blinding neon green and yellow, and he groaned, dizzy. Frantically, he ran his fingers over the lock, searching for any clue to its function.

Something clicked under his forefinger and the door opened. He stumbled out on a creaking fire escape, but the blinking colors threw off his balance. He grabbed the rusty ladder and inched down. Below him, the narrow alley stretched into emptiness. As he crawled down, snatches of sounds bored into his ears like insects. The metal ladder glowed a faint silver.

Elei dropped into the alley, landing on his feet, but his knees gave way and he fell to all fours. He laid his head on his folded arms for a moment, willing the nausea to subside, then crawled away until he could find his feet.

A glance up showed him a clear, empty sky. No planes, no helicopter. Heartbeat in his mouth, he stood and ran. The world pulsed, unbearably bright, as he raced among crumbling buildings, in claustrophobic, winding streets. Getting away. Only that mattered.

Hiding in shadows, he ran and threaded through back alleys. And the worst was that he didn't know what exactly he was running away from, only that he was getting as far from it as possible. Golden outlines of people showed behind fences and hedges, and he hid from everyone, even from children playing on the sidewalk. Finally he fell behind a dumpster and huddled there, too winded to move.

_What in the deepest hell are you doing?_ He curled into a ball. _You've slept too little, you're tired and you let a parasite control you like a puppet. You had it under control until the shooting. You can't run from everything. You can't run away from quiet. Since when is quiet suspect?_

He unfolded his legs, leaned back and breathed deeply, starting to wonder where he was. The light was high, the shadows short. He just sat there, feeling like he'd felt all those years ago, when Albi had died and he'd wandered the streets of Alecto for the first time.

Lost.

He remembered the monks of the factory convent who had taken him in. Faceless, nameless, a mass of masks and hooded heads. Isolation. Quiet. But no complaints, even though after Albi's warmth and affection it had felt at first like living encased in a block of ice. He'd had food and work and learning, and although talking and laughing had been discouraged, the monks had been the reason he'd survived. No orphanages on Ost. No charity for the ones marked with telmion and other diseases. He'd been lucky.

And then Pelia had come along, looking for a driver, and he'd looked up and right into her smiling face. She'd taken him with her. _A stray_. He hadn't known she'd done it before. That it had been her habit. _Her hobby_.

He sighed, not sure why he was angry. She'd taken him in and it had been an act of kindness. Nothing wrong with kindness. But now he thought he might have preferred to find out it had been something different. He struggled to pinpoint the concept he was looking for. Affection, perhaps. Connection. What kept families together. What gave birth to smiles.

His eyes burned. Affection or kindness, she'd been his family. Now she was dead, like Albi before, and he was again alone.

The light changed and the shadows lengthened. What time was it? Elei's leg muscles protested when he pushed himself to his feet. Kalaes would think him mad for bolting like that, without a reason. _And he's probably right._

Maera would be worried, too. A sudden flash of fear went through him. What if something had happened to them?

_Yeah, add paranoia on top of ordinary madness_. Yet, he couldn't shake off the sting of fear the thought carried. He started to run. When he received curious stares, he pulled on his hood and slowed down. He jogged in the general direction he remembered coming from. He passed decaying buildings crowded with squatters, kids huddling under low walls to roll _ama_ cigarettes, and cats prowling street corners. After a while, he realized he was lost, unable to even remember Kalaes' street name, until he finally came into the main avenue.

While waiting to catch his breath, he checked the avenue for anything suspicious but nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. He finally spotted Kalaes' building and strolled toward it as casually as he could, hands in his pockets, his hood drawn down over his face. There was no sign of anything unusual, no crowds gawking, no police helicopters. How was he going to explain why he'd run away like that? Kalaes might not even let him inside again. It wasn't as if he owed Elei anything.

Closer up, he stiffened. Thin smoke drifted from an open second floor window. Had the façade been streaked with black the previous day? He frowned but figured that it was, after all, an old building, full of stains and mold. When he reached the entrance, he saw no movement inside and nobody stood at the door or the stairs.

The street was busy, though; people moved around him, vehicles passed, a dog barked on a corner. His flight already felt like a bad dream. He pushed the door open and entered.

Burnt _dakron_ , burnt flesh. His nostrils twitched and his stomach tried to climb up his throat. He ran up the stairs. At the first landing, he stopped in his tracks, breath knocked out of his lungs, not understanding what he was seeing.

Blackened walls and floor, chipped ceiling. All windows were broken, pools of glass shards before each one. A body sprawled in the corridor, near an open apartment door. His gut clenched and he doubled over. _Kalaes? Maera?_

Oh, gods no, please don't do this.

He wiped at his eyes and forced himself to straighten, to walk on, to check the corpse. The smell of cooked flesh turned his stomach. The corridor tilted and he steadied himself with a hand on the wall. The body was charred. The face was unrecognizable. His eyes finally registered pieces of a pink robe.

The neighbor. What was her name? Zela. Zea. Whatever. Something had exploded close to her, probably an incendiary grenade falling through the window.

Not Kalaes. Not Maera.

Elei stood there, breathing heavily, his relief so profound his knees threatened to give out. He left the corpse and climbed the second flight of stairs, his Rasmus gripped in both hands. The door to Kalaes' apartment stood ajar. If Elei hadn't seen the body downstairs, he might have thought he'd just left it that way on his way out. Heat emanated from inside. He raised the Rasmus and flipped the safety off.

Gods, please don't let either of them be dead.

No sound, no movement. No flare of colors. Cronion remained still inside him. _Odd_. Elei looked in. _Burnt. All burnt_. Warmth pulsed off the walls and floor. The furniture had fallen in charred heaps, the walls were black and the floor was covered in soot. _Hells_. Rocket-propelled fire grenades, highly explosive. He'd seen them used before, in houses razed by the police on Ost.

Whoever they were, they'd made sure nobody inside would survive. If he hadn't left, he'd have stood no chance of making it out alive.

He steeled himself and entered, his boots crunching on pieces of furniture. He had to make sure Kalaes and Maera hadn't been there. Had to look. Silent as a ghost, he moved from room to room, scanning every surface.

No other body. It didn't mean much, but it meant something. It meant there was a chance Kalaes and Maera hadn't been there when this had happened. That they'd survived.

Unless they had known this would happen. What if they'd been the ones behind this? He hardly knew them. What if they'd sold him out?

Exhausted, he stumbled into the bedroom and slid down the wall, curled into a tight ball and tried not to think.

Yet the thought couldn't be chased away, or the fact that someone was after him, and they weren't the question-asking kind.

Chapter 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you're fine too." He was stiff in her arms, too tense to relax. "And Kalaes?"

"He'll be okay. He'll be fine."

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

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

"What happened to him? Tell me!"

"I told you, he'll be fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_No, I won't kill Kalaes_. He shook his hood back. "Yeah, it's me."

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

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

Grabbing him in a tight hug.

Elei struggled, tried to push Kalaes off, expecting pain. When none came, he began to relax. He inhaled the familiar scent of _ama_ cigarette wafting from Kalaes' old sweater. _No danger_.

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

Maera appeared at the door, smiling, hands on her hips. "See? Told you he's alive."

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

"This your place?"

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elei blinked. "I thought he wasn't happy having me there."

She laughed softly as she stepped out. "You can't read people very well, can you, Elei?"

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

Then why did he want to smile?

Chapter 13

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

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

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

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

_He's only joking_. Elei breathed a sigh of relief.

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

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

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

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

"That's just..." Kalaes took a shaky breath. "How did cronion know? Did you see or hear anything odd?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He called out, "Who are you? How can you help?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's it to you?" he asked, proud his voice didn't break.

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

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

He licked dry lips. "Why do you offer help?"

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

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

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

Undercurrent. The rebels.

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

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

Hera nodded.

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

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

"How?" Kalaes grinned and it was just as frightening.

"I can provide you with transport."

"And Maera? What will they do if they find her here?"

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

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

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

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

Elei shuddered.

"Why should we trust you?" Kalaes snapped.

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

Kalaes huffed. "You think it's so easy to leave? And go where?"

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

He blinked. "What?"

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

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

Kalaes looked from her to Elei and back, shoulders stiffening. "Elei, you said you didn't—"

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

"But you must know," Hera's voice grew shrill, "you must have it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, who asked you?" Kalaes snapped.

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

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

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

Chapter 14

Kalaes locked the door, his face a blank mask. He traipsed to the kitchen like a sleepwalker and Elei heard him talk on the phone. He came back with a cloth bag.

"I got us some water and food to bring along," he said and stared at Elei who was still sitting on the floor, as if wondering what he was doing there. Elei shook his head, trying to clear it. He tried to get up, but his legs and arms wouldn't move.

With jerky motions, Kalaes dropped the bag on the couch and bent over Elei, lifting him to his feet. Thankfully, he managed to avoid the puddle of vomit. "Shit. What's happening to you, fe?"

"Don't know." Elei steadied himself and wiped his mouth. Sourness, vomit, a taste from the lowest hell. "Do you trust Hera?"

Kalaes left him hunched over the couch and brought him a glass of water. His face was set in worried lines, his brows drawn, his mouth down-turned. "They tried to kill you. So far, she hasn't. That earns her points in my book."

"Yeah." On the scale from bad to worse, she was middle-grade.

Kalaes slung the bag strap over his shoulder and patted the gun at his side. "If she found us, then so will they. We'd better move."

They staggered up the stairs and into the alley. Paranoia made Elei aim his Rasmus at every moving shadow.

"Put away the gun, fe. Keep it out of sight, you don't want to draw attention now."

Elei knew Kalaes was right, but he found shoving the gun back into his belt holster difficult and when he did, his hand kept wanting to draw it.

Another stab of pain in his stomach threatened to send him sprawling and he tensed, muscles cording in his back and legs as he fought it. _Pissing hells_. He followed Kalaes out and into dark back streets, doing his best to keep up. Hera's words swirled in his mind. The Gultur wanted something he didn't have. What chance did he have against them? They'd commanded the seven islands for centuries. They controlled everything. If they wanted him, they'd get him.

Kalaes led him through stinking narrow passages between dusty shop fronts where dogs squabbled and the smell of piss almost had Elei retching again. He took shallow breaths and concentrated on his feet.

"What about Maera?" he asked.

"If she left work all of a sudden, someone might notice. They might be watching her. When I called her on the telespeak, I asked her to come and meet us later."

They ran among abandoned houses and fences. Kalaes dragged Elei into the shadow of a building entrance as a Gultur patrol thumped by, their visored helmets glinting. They watched the patrol go, barely daring to breathe.

"Why do you think they haven't found me yet?" Elei whispered. "Maera did. Frigid hells, even Hera did."

"I don't know, fe. Honest. Let's get moving."

Elei's whole body hurt and his head throbbed in time to his heart as he trudged after Kalaes. Just his luck to get sick now. He'd sometimes had minor relapses. Pelia had taken care of him, come by his room to check on him. _Now she's gone_. His steps dragged as he struggled to keep up with Kalaes. His head was too light, his feet too heavy. He prayed they wouldn't fail him now.

They hid behind a _nepheline_ factory, an ugly concrete building, across from the food factory that stank of rotting fish, to wait for Maera. Kalaes found a deserted, dilapidated storehouse and they crept inside. It was cold and damp and Elei's hand shook on the grip of his gun. Through the broken window, the light of a street lamp not too far off spat and flickered. Elei looked away, fighting dizziness.

"Do you think she's right?" He struggled to focus his thoughts. "Hera I mean. That the Gultur are the ones after me?"

Kalaes shifted his back against the wall. "It doesn't make any sense, fe. I mean, what could Pelia have that'd be so important? A mega bomb? An army hidden somewhere? Not sure I buy this. I can't imagine the Gultur being scared of anything. They've been on top since forever, and they're just stronger; higher in the chain of life. We can only hope to survive them and..." He trailed off and shifted again, eyes narrowing. "Hey, you're shaking so hard you're making me dizzy. What did you catch, fe?"

"Wish I knew." Elei huddled, pulling his hood low over his face, trying to conserve what little body heat he had. "It'll pass." His teeth clattered. "Tell me about the Gultur. About Regina."

Kalaes gave him a sharp look, then slumped back. "Cursed parasite that birthed the Gultur race. Listen, I don't know so much, only that they pass it, mother to daughter. It's what freed them of men, made them able to have children without us. Only daughters. All similar to their mothers, lines of identical women. It made them extra strong. Extra cruel. Half-mad. There're rumors they intend to wipe us all out, clean out the worlds. They think we're vermin, animals without reason. They say Regina makes them more than human. That it turned them into half-goddesses."

Elei tried to remember his biology lessons. "But if they just cloned themselves, other parasites would infect them and take over."

"Regina mutates a little in every generation to avoid that." Kalaes puffed. "Not enough to prevent madness, obviously. I wonder what Pelia told you. If only you remembered..."

"Maybe there's nothing to remember." The back of Elei's eyes burned. "She was dying. Maybe she said nothing at all."

Fresh waves of pain wracked him. He clutched his middle, panting, and prayed it would pass. Then his stomach clenched and acid rose in his throat.

Kalaes stirred and reached out to him, asking him something Elei couldn't quite hear over the roaring in his ears, as he bent over and lost the rest of his dinner on the cement floor.

"Hells," Kalaes whispered with feeling. "I swear, your sense of timing sucks big time."

Elei fell back against the wall, resting his head, swallowing and hoping nothing more came up. "Tell me about it."

Kalaes dragged him away from the vomit and passed him a bottle from his bag. Elei took it gratefully to wash the foul taste from his mouth and found he could barely lift it. He wrapped his arms around him, hoping to stop the shivers.

Time passed with jumps and starts. He woke up every time his head fell forward to his chest only to find himself drifting again. In the east, the sky broke into colors, and he heard Kalaes' voice. He turned and realized the older boy was talking to him. "What?"

"Maera has to be here soon. Let's get the aircar ready."

Elei roused himself. "Do you think she's okay?"

"I hope so," Kalaes said in a strained voice.

"What if they follow her here?"

"Can you think of another way, fe? 'Cause I can't." Kalaes sucked in a deep breath. "Think you can stand?"

Although his legs felt like jelly, Elei nodded, not trusting his voice. His throat was scraped raw from the acid. He holstered his gun and let Kalaes haul him up, sling one arm around his shoulders and drag him over to the other factory.

Light streaked across the sky, illuminating the dirty walls that loomed now above them. Kalaes pulled him behind some moldy crates and then along the tall alum fence and the locked gates all the way to the back of the building. An empty plot of land stretched behind the factory filled with piles of metal junk.

Kalaes propped Elei against the rusted hull of an air-truck and advanced between the metallic skeletons. Gun in hand, he disappeared inside the junkyard. Elei waited, trembling.

Soon Kalaes returned, his grin reaching his ears. "I've found it."

He grabbed Elei's arm and dragged him into the jumble of rusty vehicle pieces, along narrow passages. Together they pulled off the camo sheet. The vehicle Hera had chosen for them was an old aircar, not much different than the others around it. Kalaes climbed up the ladder, turned and hauled Elei up. He walked over to the door, and the key Hera had given him fit into the lock easily. The door opened. A musty smell of stuffy air and old _nepheline_ wafted out.

Following Kalaes' bent form, Elei entered and made his way to the back, the seat big enough to fit four persons. Winded already, he sank down. Inside, the aircar wasn't as dirty as the outside had warranted. In front of him sat Kalaes, in the driver's seat, his hands already flying over the controls, checking their function.

"How are you feeling, fe?" he said without turning.

"Like roadkill."

He expected Kalaes to grin, but when he saw the older boy's eyes in the rearview mirror, they were serious and concerned. Elei looked away, uneasy. Maera hadn't come yet. "What if she—"

"She'll come. She'll be fine." Kalaes pressed his lips into a thin line, shook himself and got out of the aircar, jumping off the deck instead of using the ladder. He puttered around in the engine at the back as the day brightened, then he returned, dragging in the folded camo sheet, and avoided Elei's gaze. He placed the camo next to Elei, on the back seat.

Soon it would be morning. They couldn't linger, that much was clear.

Kalaes sat at the control panel and ran his fingers over the buttons. He pulled his beeper out, stared at it and stuck it back into his pocket. "I may have to go and find—"

"Hey, guys." Maera poked her head in, panting with exertion, curls askew, cheeks pink, and waved at Elei. He dredged up a tired smile for her and was rewarded with a brilliant one.

Kalaes twisted in his seat, brows lifting. "Mae! Are you all right?"

"All clear, captain." Kneeling on the front seat, she tugged on his braids and gave him a peck on the cheek. Then she scooted to the back and sank down on the _nepheline_ bench beside Elei, on top of the camo. "Let's go."

Kalaes straightened in his seat and shook his head of wild black hair. "About time you showed up." He didn't mention he'd been about to go out and look for her.

"How are you, Kal?" Maera deposited her bag at her feet and leaned forward to talk to Kalaes over the backrest. "You look better than this morning."

He snorted, shrugged and revved up the aircar, taking them out of the field and onto a side street. They sped out of town. "What took you so long?"

"Made a detour." She twiddled her thumbs, smiling faintly. "I waylaid our pursuers."

"What did you do, fe?" Worry crept into Kalaes' voice and the aircraft jerked a little. Buildings streaked by outside.

"Remember Gino, the sweeper?" She sounded pleased with herself. "He owed me a favor. I asked him to take me in his aircar, drop me off somewhere in town and pick up a hooker." She giggled. "He didn't mind this last part. They're following him all around town. I walked here."

"Shit. You could've been hurt, Mae!"

She huffed and leaned back, closing her eyes. "Worrywart."

Elei shifted on the seat, trying to get comfortable. His chest and belly felt bruised from the inside.

Maera opened her eyes and gave him a worried little smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He probably looked as crappy as he felt, and he turned his face away from her to spare her the sight.

"So what's the story with this woman you said visited you?" she asked.

Kalaes said nothing, shoulders tense, hands tight on the steering lever.

"I guess you'll tell me later." Maera stared out of the window, rapping her fingers against the glass pane. "Where are we going?"

"I thought we might go to the chamber, wait a day or two and hope our trail grows cold," Kalaes said, and she nodded gravely.

The chamber?

Elei wondered what they were talking about, but then again they seemed to understand each other and they seemed to agree, and who was he to question that? His head felt heavier than his whole body. As he leaned back and closed his eyes, the sounds faded. He drifted off, tumbling into the void.

There was silence and darkness in his slumber. Then the girl from the previous night's dream appeared. She held in her small hands a jug sloshing with water. Rivulets ran down the clay sides, sparkling and whispering.

Thirst made him reach out for it, but she tsked and twisted away, raising the jug to balance it on one bony shoulder.

"And how are you today, Elei?"

"Poena." Cold wind buffeted him and he raised his hands to protect his face. "I'm sick."

"Give it time," she said and winked. "Time is a field, on it things grow and roots plunge deep. There are ruins in that field, and ruins hide much that once was alive. And what once was alive can come to life again."

_What?_ He frowned, and she giggled.

"Echoes wander there and one has found you, Elei. Soon you will be ready. Poena will be coming to you until then, until you reach the citadel and fulfill your mission."

"My mission?"

"Yes. Now wake up. Wake up, Elei."

"Wake up, we're here," a woman's voice said very close to his ear, and his eyes snapped open. "Elei? You were dreaming."

_No shit_. Dazed, he looked up into Maera's face. Her cheeks dimpled in a smile. Kalaes opened the door and a gust of cold entered, echoing the dream.

The aircar had landed. Elei pushed off the bench with a grunt of pain and took Maera's offered hand. He stepped out.

The spires of Artemisia pierced the horizon and on the other side hills rolled in soft waves, framed by the mountains he'd seen from Aerica, closer now, steep, jutting out of the plain like teeth.

All around him, ruins met his eyes, glimmering gray slabs of stone, some standing, some fallen, like corpses. He blinked away the image his mind provided. Trying to take his mind off blood and death, he walked toward the nearest standing stone. Patches of lichens ate at it, some red, some purple, some bright orange. He placed a hand on the rough surface, felt its grains beneath his fingertips, underneath his palm. At first, he thought the stone had a heartbeat — then realized it was his own pulse, thundering on his fingertips, echoing the ache in his head.

He looked over to the other slabs.

Kalaes strode toward a tall, square pillar. He knelt before it. _A ritual?_ Elei was about to call out to him, when Kalaes turned and waved. Maera headed that way. Elei followed and saw an opening at the base of the pillar.

"Go down." Kalaes gestured at the hole. "Maera knows the way. I'll cover the vehicle."

Maera tugged at Elei's arm. "Come."

She went in first, down a rough stairway, winding into the earth. He kept his hand on the wall, not sure of his balance. The dark was broken by phosphorescent fungi that shed light on symbols carved in the walls. The steps gave way to a hallway, and then an underground chamber.

Maera walked to the wall and pulled a lever, so that air and some light spilled inside, showing stone benches and a table. The floor was composed of gray flagstones, the same material as the standing stones outside. It was bitter cold.

Elei shuddered. "What is this place?"

Maera stood at one of the openings, eyes closed, breathing in the air. "Pelia brought us here once. She was to meet someone, never let us see who it was. She showed us the entrance, told us to wait here. We came here a couple of times. It was fun back then."

She turned to him. "We'll wait here today. Then tomorrow I'll go back to town, see if things have calmed down."

"Dangerous." Elei sat down on one of the stone benches and took slow breaths, trying to convince his stomach to stop roiling. "You shouldn't go."

"We can't stay here indefinitely. We're not prepared. The water and food will run out by tomorrow."

She was right, of course. They couldn't remain on the run forever. First he'd caused them to lose everything, and now he was placing them in grave danger again.

"It's not your fault," she said. "You had no other choice."

Oh great, he was doing it again, speaking his thoughts out loud. He had to explain. "I should never have come to you. To Kalaes."

She shook her head. "Then where would you go?" She frowned and tilted her head at the stairwell. "What's taking Kalaes so long?"

He was about to stand up, too, when Kalaes appeared at the door, his cheeks red from the cold. He came to sit beside Elei, face serious.

"Now we wait," he said.

Maera sat opposite them. "This woman..."

"Hera." Kalaes rubbed his eyes.

"Hera then. Are we going to see her again or is she done helping us out?"

Kalaes sighed. "I wish I knew."

Pelia had brought them here years before Elei met her. Pelia worked for the Undercurrent, fighting for a world with fewer taxes, fewer problems, less fear — more water, more food, more calm.

He saw again her face, her eyes wide, blood everywhere. Her lips were moving, she was telling him something, calling his name, but he couldn't hear the words. There was a sound like a storm brewing, wind blowing in his ears and blotting out all sound, a roaring gale that shook him. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and his body convulsed with pain. He bent over and vomited onto the stone floor.

"Hells, not again," Kalaes muttered. Elei's legs were sliding off the bench and Kalaes thrust out his arm, stopping him from falling to the floor.

Maera's voice said very close to Elei's ear, "What in the hells do you mean again?"

Something about the situation struck him as funny, but for the life of him, Elei couldn't put his finger on it, not when he hadn't felt this bad since telmion had almost killed him as a child.

On cue, he vomited again, thick, bitter bile, for his stomach was completely empty by now. Moving was out of the question, but somehow he found himself lying on his side on the bench. Hands held him down. A jacket fell on him, covering him.

"It started last night, when Hera was there at your place," Kalaes was saying. "I don't know what's wrong, but whatever it is, it's bad. He's burning up. I think he needs a hospital."

"Yeah, and how are we going to take him there with the Gultur after him?"

Elei closed his eyes. A relapse. It had to be. He'd been quite healthy in the last years, apart from the occasional gut twinge. He didn't remember going to the hospital, except for one time. Pelia had taken him there. A drip of strong painkillers had been inserted in his hand, and later Pelia told him he'd spent the night weeping and calling for Albi. He didn't recall any of it, thank the gods for small mercies.

"Hey." Maera touched his face. "How do you feel?"

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to answer that.

"Like shit, that's what he must feel like," Kalaes said, and Elei felt a smile tug at his lips again.

He thought that it was strange how often that had happened in the last days, considering all that had taken place. It was pleasant in a disconcerting way; it made the world seem brighter, even in sickness.

Chapter 15

With stern instructions to a sulking Iliathan to cover her tracks, since he had a knack for hacking into official files, Hera climbed into his small aircar, drove out of Aerica and set a course toward the field of stones. Funny how she'd driven by so many times in the past but had never stopped there, had never wondered what hid below. She'd taken it for a cemetery.

The stones rose from the field like the islands rising from the deep in her dream. She saw them again emerging, soaring, resplendent and blinding in their radiance.

_Stop daydreaming,_ hatha _. Focus._

Disappointment simmered inside her skull. She'd thought that, by finding the boy, she would have her answer and the shipment. She'd been so sure the boy would know, that Pelia had confided in him.

She'd made so many wrong assumptions. No wonder she was trying to escape in her mind.

Hands clenching on the levers, she turned into the field of stones and parked the aircar. Why was she still trying, still helping these three? The boy was sick and clueless, the others just tagging along, carried by the events. Given the circumstances, she should have left them to perish and returned to headquarters.

Yet, a tiny doubt lingered. What if Elei's memory returned? What if she left him and the Gultur found him and extracted the information? She could not allow that to happen. Too much was at stake.

With a sigh, she turned off the ignition and stepped out.

* * *

The soft buzzing in Elei's ears broke down into words.

"I think he's awake," Kalaes said in a low voice, "look."

_Awake_. Elei lay on his side on cold stone. In the dark, bunches of green fungi glimmered on the concave roof, illuminating a tall, cavernous space. The stale air stank of cold humidity. Stiff and frozen to the bone, he tried to move his lips, to ask for water.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Kalaes said. He sounded pleased. _Strange man_. "Here, drink." He pushed a bottle to Elei's mouth and dribbled cool water through his parched lips and down his chin.

Albi had done that for him when he'd been sick, spoon feeding him water and soup. He recalled her rough hands and her wrinkled face. Gods down deep, he missed her still, even after all these years.

Pelia, too.

He'd never see them again.

He turned away from the bottle and closed his eyes, the cold void inside echoing the ice in his limbs. He wished to feel her warm hand on his brow, her voice telling him he'd be all right. She had to be there, had to come back.

Elei drifted in and out of sleep. The girl Poena giggled in his dream, running from fields to shores to trashlands, blond hair flying. She gestured for him to follow, but he lagged behind.

She turned, stood in a halo of yellow light. "Blood in the water, Elei. Find the fountainhead."

"What do you mean?" He reached out to her. "What fountainhead? Where is this?"

She placed her hands on her slim hips, cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. "There's only one fountainhead that matters." She walked over to him, and he wondered why he had to look up into her face when she was just a little girl. "Only one thing that counts. Blood in the water." She caressed his cheek. "Go to the sacred citadel, Elei, to the Bone Tower. It's almost time."

Loud knocking broke her image into tiny pieces that lingered when Elei opened his eyes. Disoriented, he blinked at his surroundings until he realized his cheek was pressed against hard stone. Someone sat next to him. _Kalaes_. A heavy object lay on his ribs, radiating warmth.

"Hey." Kalaes shifted, and Elei realized the heavy object was Kalaes' hand, keeping the covers from slipping to the floor.

A low buzz rose through the stone to his ear; the sound of machinery. "They've come," Elei croaked, his voice a rough whisper.

"What?" Kalaes jumped to his feet. "Have you heard something?"

Too late, Elei realized that Kalaes' hand hadn't kept only the covers from sliding off the narrow bench, but also Elei himself. He grabbed the edge not to fall as Kalaes hurried, cursing, to the dark staircase leading out of the underground chamber.

Elei pushed himself back from the edge, his knuckles white on the stone. The movement left him winded and he blinked dark spots from his eyes. The thought of getting up was enough to make him dizzy.

Still, no way he'd let the Gultur take him. He patted his belt, found his Rasmus, took it out and aimed at the door, steadying his hand on the stone surface of the bench. Whoever came through would find him ready. Lying flat or not, he wasn't going down without a fight.

Only he saw two doors instead of one. He frowned and his aim wavered. An echoing noise filled the room. Deafening footsteps reverberated in his head, crashed on the walls of his skull. He gritted his teeth, fighting down nausea, and had to swallow. He steadied his hand.

In walked Kalaes and Maera with their afterimages, and Hera.

Cronion didn't react. Relieved, Elei laid his gun down on the bench and his cheek against his arm, and just stared at Hera.

Gods, she was beautiful. Even with her back so stiff as if she'd swallowed a rod, even scowling like she'd spank them for being naughty, he had to catch his breath at the symmetry of her face, the contrast of her dark eyes and luminous skin.

"You truly have no idea how to hide, do you?" Hera bit off each word.

"How did you find us?" Kalaes folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head back, observing her through narrowed eyes.

"I found your signal. From your beeper most probably." The furrow between Hera's brows deepened. "Give it to me. If I could find you, so will they. I shall dispose of it somewhere far, throw them off your track." She threw a bulging bag on the table. "Here. Water, food, blankets. They should get you through a couple of days if you're careful. Stay here, they're combing the town. It would be a bad idea to go back."

"Crap." Maera kicked at a wall. "You're so full of good news."

"Still no memory of what Pelia told you?" Hera strode to where Elei lay and bent over him, a dark silhouette. He tried to focus his blurry eyes on her face. He blinked and that helped. Her features sharpened, fine and lovely, her lips full and shapely. There was only one of her now and suddenly Elei wished there would be more.

"No memory," Elei said. "Nothing new."

"He's sick." Maera offered it like a challenge.

Hera leaned closer, straight brows drawn together. Her dark eyes flashed. "Sick, oh really? What an astute observation. He has telmion, one of the most lethal parasites of the seven islands. It tends to kill people within days, if not hours. Sick is an understatement."

He shivered.

Maera threw her hands in the air and stomped over to the table. With jerky movements, she lifted bottles out of the bag Hera had brought and banged them on the stone surface so hard Elei winced.

Kalaes clucked his tongue. "You're wrong, Hera. His telmion is controlled by cronion. Looks like it's been in check for years now."

"Has it? Well, not anymore," Hera said coolly. "He has telmion now, and I do not see cronion controlling it. In fact, you can see the tel-marks spreading on his neck. These," she gripped Elei's chin and turned his head, "were not here when last I looked. They have reached his cheek." She released him and stepped back.

_What?_ Elei raised a shaky hand to his face.

Kalaes loomed over him, cutting off the dim light. He pulled down the polo neck of Elei's sweater. "Shit. You're right."

_Five hells_. He'd thought cronion was acting mad in the past days. What if it had lost the battle to telmion? Elei wanted to laugh, but couldn't, his breath short. With cronion defeated, nothing could save him. It was the only parasite strong enough to control telmion. With telmion released, he was done for.

Hera frowned. "It's not the common kind of telmion. It's the gray one, most dangerous."

Of course it was. It had almost killed him once. Maybe now it would finish the job it started so many years ago.

"How do you know so much about it?" Kalaes asked.

Hera pursed her lips. "Telmion is a strain of the Regina parasite. I have studied it thoroughly."

"What are you, a doctor?"

"A parasitologist. Studying to be one."

"I bet you got a rich family, huh?" Kalaes sat heavily on the bench. "What happened? Why did telmion flare?"

"Maybe it's stress," Maera said from behind them. "From running away and being shot."

Hera snorted. "No amount of stress can cause this, little girl."

"Little girl?" Maera didn't sound amused, her voice flat and angry. "If it isn't stress, Miss Know-It-All, then what could cause cronion to fail?"

"Blood loss?" Kalaes offered.

Hera's face was neutral. She didn't seem to notice Maera's sarcasm. "Yes, maybe blood loss. Then again, he has more parasites in his body. Maybe another one matured and went on to attack and weaken cronion."

"Ate it up, maybe?" Kalaes grimaced and ran his hands through his hair, raising it into spikes.

"I cannot think of any parasite that can fully suppress cronion. Except Regina, and Regina in a body that has not mutated means certain death."

"So cronion is pissing number two on the list of nightmares?" One side of Kalaes' mouth curled up in a savage grin.

Hera leaned against the stone table. "Cronion was accidentally brought by the Gultur from Torq, their home island, when they first moved to Dakru and made it their stronghold."

Her lilting accent sounded as if from the western islands, Ert or Aue. Her musical voice was low. Elei's eyelids grew heavy.

"So the Gultur brought this curse on us as well. Why aren't I surprised, huh?" Kalaes muttered.

"Cronion used to be Regina's natural antagonist, its only worthy enemy, the only parasite that could at times control it. Then of course, Regina mutated to fend off the problems of parthenogenesis, to fight off other infections, and became much stronger. Cronion lost its sway."

"Hey, this isn't a parasitology class, Hera," Kalaes snapped. "Save the lesson for some other time."

"Fine," her voice cracked like a gunshot.

Elei hated it, lying there, so vulnerable. Yet when he tried to push himself up on his elbow, he found he didn't have the strength.

Kalaes glanced down at him, eyes stark, then quickly looked away. "Can you help him?"

"The main danger is dehydration. Give him lots of water. It could work, you never know."

"Dammit, he's still a kid," Kalaes whispered. The pain in his voice echoed somewhere in Elei's chest, as if it'd touched a chord.

"Practically an adult. He might survive."

"Might survive? _Might_?" Kalaes raised a fist. "That's not good enough. He damn well shall."

"I'll see if I can find some serum." Hera shook her head. "So many diseases. A good excuse for the Gultur to clean out the world."

"Are you defending them?" Maera said in a deadly voice, hands curling into fists.

"Merely stating a fact." Hera leaned over Elei. Her eyes were a deep, dark color, yet limpid like glass, brown or green. There was a softness in their depths that he hadn't expected and he couldn't look away. His breath caught.

"Say," Maera said, "is it true the Gultur reproduce alone?"

Silence. They all turned to stare at her.

Then Hera's mouth twisted, one side tilting up in a half smile. She winked at Elei, leaving him confused, and straightened. "It's true."

"What about sex? Don't they miss it?" There was an interesting little silence. Maera frowned. "What? It's a legit question."

Kalaes' face turned a pretty shade of red. "Maera..."

"Oh, they have nothing against sex." Hera shifted her weight so that a slender hip jutted out. The curves of her breasts and waist were soft and pleasing. "After all, that kind of physical stimulation is needed for ovulation, and therefore reproduction. But the priestesses are the ones in charge of that, usually."

Well, that brought interesting images to mind. Women on women. Elei felt his eyes go wide and his throat dry.

Kalaes made a noise as if he'd swallowed a fly and turned his face away.

Hera leaned back, smirking. "Why do you care anyway?"

"Just wondering." Maera snorted. "You _do_ know a lot about the Gultur, don't you?"

"An awful lot," Hera said in a voice like steel. "You cannot begin to imagine." She turned to Kalaes. "Your beeper. Now. I have delayed too much already. Be alert in case they find you. I must return to work." She turned to Maera. "Do you have a beeper, too?"

"Left it at work," Maera said. Kalaes took his beeper out and tossed it to Hera.

She caught it deftly and placed it in a hip pocket of her suit. "So long."

"What are you going to do?" Kalaes called out to her retreating back.

"You would rather not know," her voice floated from the stairwell, and then she was gone like a ghost.

"Rest," Kalaes said to Elei. "There's nothing else to do right now but wait."

Elei curled tight, too cold. His legs ached, his chest felt compressed. His stomach twisted. The void waited, an open mouth, to swallow him again. He slipped under instantly. Time fragmented.

The little girl, Poena, flicked her golden hair and laughed at him, laughed and laughed, her face turning into a grotesque animal mask, a long muzzle with sharp teeth dripping saliva.

A great weight crushed him. He heard tinny voices, the rustle of bodies moving. He was drowning in blood, swallowing it, choking, unable to breathe.

Space lurched. He felt himself moving, but he wasn't the one in control of his limbs. Vomit rose in his throat and he tasted the sweet copper of blood.

Urgent voices, a shout, indistinct sounds.

Fresh liquid trickled through his lips and he licked them, grateful for something else than the sourness of his mouth. Coolness rested against his forehead, and he shivered because he was hopelessly cold, his body made of marble stone, heavy and not his to command. His limbs shook and something held him down, against the hardness of the bench. Then more bile rose, more blood to vomit, more disorientation.

And then nothing.

Chapter 16

First came gravity, pressing his body down. Then came feeling. Elei lay on something hard, even and cold as ice — like a grave must feel. But a bulky jacket and blankets wrapped him in a warm cocoon, so the probabilities of being buried were not so high. Who would waste a perfectly good jacket on a corpse?

Smell was an unwelcome bonus. The sour stench of vomit cloyed the air. Then taste returned, and he wished it hadn't either, foul as rotten garbage. On its heels followed pain, a splitting headache, and his midsection felt as if someone had laid him open with a chainsaw, though he was sure he'd remember something like that.

Sounds filtered in, low voices and the dripping of liquid. A distant buzz like the wind. Rustling of clothes.

Time to test another sense. He fought to open his eyes. That was kind of difficult; they refused to obey. He tried again, moving his head, as if to dislodge the spiderwebs that sealed them closed.

A gasp, then steps. A man's voice. _Kalaes_. "He's awake."

"Thank the gods." _Maera_. "Elei, can you hear me?"

The events of the last hours returned. Hera, the flight from Aerica, the secret chamber under the field of stones. Words wouldn't come, his throat was too dry, his breath was too shallow, his mind too sluggish. Answering was beyond him. He shut out the voices and concentrated on his un-cooperative eyes. He cursed silently, struggled harder, and finally his crusted lashes parted.

Hazy outlines. Muted colors, shades of brown and gray. His dry, gritty eyes itched. He now saw a face in a halo of curls. Something alighted on his cheek — a hand.

"Maera," he attempted to say. His voice wouldn't come out. But he saw her teeth glinting. She was smiling. That made him feel better.

"Drink this." She pressed something cool to his lips, and liquid wet his lips. She raised his head with one strong hand and he gulped down the water. She took the cup away far too soon. "Enough."

_Right_. He concentrated on keeping it down.

"Hey." Kalaes crouched before him, his face inches from Elei's. "Feeling better?"

He blinked, not sure it would be taken as an answer, but Kalaes seemed to understand. He ruffled Elei's hair, then pulled back his hand. "You almost gave me a heart attack, fe. I don't want to add your name to the list of my dead, so have a care."

"The marks haven't spread more," Maera said. "The gods saved you. It's a miracle."

Only Elei didn't believe in miracles. The gifts the gods gave always had a price attached, didn't they?

"Maybe it's Phorkys, the god of the sea foam, riding on his serpentine fish," Maera whispered, brushing her smooth fingertips on Elei's forehead. He sighed, returning for a moment to the past, in Pelia's apartment, and thought he felt her cool hand on his face, her scent on the air.

"Or maybe cronion fought back," Kalaes said, breaking the spell. He grinned. "Your own private champion."

"Maybe," Elei rasped.

"He speaks! I can't believe my ears!" Kalaes whooped, then pressed a hand to his brow, pretending to swoon, and said in a melodramatic voice, "That's it, I'm a believer. Elei's possessed by a god."

Maera laughed and shoved at Kalaes' shoulder. Her eyes glowed as if lit from within. "Don't make fun of him when he's sick."

"But it's the best time. He can't fight back!" Kalaes winked at Elei and grabbed Maera's hand, keeping it against his shoulder. "Come on, fe. Tell me which god has taken possession of you. Magic-shitting Nereus with his fishtail and big fork, or is it a goddess, that awesome chick, Thetis, who rules in her coral palace?"

"Stop it!" Maera giggled. "You're such a clown."

Elei's mouth twitched.

Kalaes opened his mouth to say more, but his gaze snapped to the side and he raised a hand as if to silence them.

"What?" The blankets shifted against Elei and Maera rose, arms crossed over her stomach.

"There's someone outside." Kalaes straightened, a dark silhouette against the luminescence of the green fungi covering the walls.

On cue, loud banging rang on the trapdoor, followed by a woman's voice. "Open this door right now. It is urgent."

"Hera." Kalaes strode to the stairwell and disappeared up the stairs.

Maera scowled. She caught Elei's concerned look and blushed, mouth twisting. "Sorry. I don't trust Hera." She rubbed her arms.

He could understand that. Who knew what role Hera played in all this.

Hera followed Kalaes inside. Her hair was loose today and she looked frazzled. A red flush marked her cheekbones.

"You must leave immediately." Her voice fell like a whip. "You have been found."

Elei gathered his legs closer to his body. A chill snaked up his spine.

Kalaes cursed. "How?"

"Hard to tell." Hera paced to the wall and back. "They must have tracked the signal of your beeper through the system before I destroyed the chip. Gods, I knew this was going to happen."

"And it took them so long?"

"All systems are down or barely working. Gultur policy, remember? Trying to slow down the Undercurrent. Well, they're slowing down their own people, too, the ones staying outside the Bone Tower."

"Great." Maera went to gather their things from the table — bottles, packages and bags.

"Elei." Hera nodded in his direction. "I see you are still alive. Good." A mote of satisfaction danced in her voice.

"He was out for two days," Maera said.

Elei gaped. _Two days?_

"Come on, fe." Kalaes hauled Elei up. The world tilted madly and he hung in Kalaes' arms. "Come on, we must go."

He agreed wholeheartedly, only his legs wouldn't carry him and he hardly felt his feet inside his boots. His head seemed too heavy for his neck. Leaning on Kalaes, he took laborious steps in the direction of the stairs. Maera took his other side and together they half-carried him up the steps and out into the late afternoon.

A thick gray cloud sat on the horizon. Elei squinted at it as he stood wheezing, and it expanded like a malevolent spirit.

"It's them." Hera stepped out, gun in hand. She strode over to a covered vehicle and pulled back the cover.

Their aircar. Hera unlocked it. "Get in. I'll drive."

They climbed inside. Kalaes and Maera settled Elei down, wedged between them. He was cold and glad for the warmth of their bodies on either side of him, and for their solid presence after the nightmares.

"How do you get around without being caught?" Kalaes asked. "Don't they ever stop you at the checkpoints?"

"I have the necessary codes." Hera took the driver's seat and powered the aircar up. It rumbled and rose from the ground vertically, then shot away. "As long as I have some access to their communications system, we're fine."

At a dizzying speed they flew over the plain, over patches of cultivated land and brown spongy earth, in the direction of the mountains. Holes marred the slopes of the hills, and hoverbarges surrounded them. They overflew small towns, patches of brightness. They were approaching the first _dakron_ mines.

"Where to now?" Maera cleared the foggy window with her sleeve and pressed her nose to it.

"An apartment in Akmon. I'll leave you there, come later with provisions. Try and make the stupid boy remember what Pelia told him. You cannot keep running forever; they will find you."

_No kidding_ , Elei thought muzzily. _Stupid boy, huh?_ Maybe he was. He couldn't understand why these people were after him. But at least he was finally getting warmer and feeling was returning to his extremities. He wiggled his toes inside his boots. _Good_. He'd been afraid someone had cut off his feet and they weren't telling him. He moved his fingers in his lap. _All there. Thank the gods_. He wondered if things could get any crazier — if that was even possible.

"Feeling better, fe?" Kalaes grinned and tousled Elei's hair.

"You'll make him dizzy again, and he'll throw up all over us," Maera muttered.

Kalaes shuddered dramatically and withdrew his hand. "Gods forbid."

Elei's lips twitched.

"Where are you going, Hera?" Kalaes pressed his forehead to the window, hand coming up to clear the glass pane. "There's no town here."

"I'm trying to lose them, they're at our backs."

"What?" Kalaes twisted to look through the back window. "Whoa, what in the hells? It's the whole pissing Fleet of the Gultur! I can't believe it."

Elei opened his mouth but no sound came out. _The Fleet?_

Maera squeaked and turned around too. The aircar rocked.

"Nunet's snakes, stop moving around! You'll get us all killed." Hera's voice shook with fury. She jabbed at the accelerator button and they got knocked back against their seats.

Elei looked behind. The Fleet darkened the sky, growing like a malignant fungus.

The aircar shot off the main road, the propellers at the back giving a pitiful whine. Off the cemented track, the aircar dipped and rocked. Maera yelped. Hera chose a narrow dirt road that wound around a hill. Houses littered one side — low, yellow square buildings with flat roofs. Blue algae ponds stretched ahead like mirrors. The aircar glided over the dark water, straightening, as it raced toward the mass of mountains.

"Do you even know what's after the next hill?" Kalaes shouted over the whir of the sputtering engine.

The fields ended and Hera drove onto land once more. She swerved around a tall, tower-like building that looked like a storehouse and the aircar wobbled. "Do you?"

"Hells, what are you doing? We'll crash!" Kalaes climbed over the backrest and fell next to Hera on the front seat as she took another dirt road seemingly at random. "Let me drive."

"Sit. Down." Hera didn't even turn toward him. "I know the area. We shall hide."

"Where?" Kalaes settled with a muffled curse and pulled out his gun, glancing out of the front windowpane.

"I know a place." She grunted. "Put away your gun. A gunshot could give them our exact position."

Kalaes lowered it. "It's reflex." He shrugged. "I'm not going to try and take out the Fleet with one gun."

"Good to know." She killed the lights with a flick of her hand, eyes intent on the road ahead as they drove on. The last rays of daylight traversed the aircar like golden ribbons.

Elei stared at the back of her head, all that dark hair dancing like a curtain of beads in a breeze. In the faint light from the panel, he could see Hera's hand on the controls, a fine wrist, long fingers. Tiny black marks traced the finger bones. He wondered what they were. _A tattoo?_

"They're coming," Maera hissed and pressed her face to the window. "Dammit, Hera, they're almost on top of us."

"They have not seen us yet."

The supersonic hum vibrated now through the moving aircar and through Elei's teeth and bones. The windows rattled. He turned. The Fleet was splitting up; triangular formations of _seleukids_ broke off and flew in opposing directions.

"Search parties," Maera muttered. "Dammit."

"Hera!" Kalaes grabbed the steering lever. "Give me the steer."

They wrestled for the lever and the aircar whirled, knocking Elei against the back seat.

"Let go." Hera snarled. "We're almost there."

"What about their radars? Are you screwing with us?"

"The hills here contain magnetite. It will scramble their signals. I told you, I know this place."

Elei swallowed hard, his body shaking as he straightened. They were going to die. He was caught in a nightmare that wouldn't end.

Maera reached over the seat, grabbed Hera's shoulder. "Kalaes will drive," she hissed. "He'll get us out of here."

"And take us where? We can take cover behind that hill over there. We must hide, do you understand?" Hera panted, immobilized by Maera's grip, as the sound of search parties flying not far overhead drowned out her voice. The aircar had slowed. "Let go of me."

Maera hesitated, and Kalaes shook his head, his face white. "She led us into a pissing trap."

But what if she was telling the truth?

"Kalaes." Elei placed a hand on Maera's arm and looked into Kalaes' wide eyes. "We haven't got the time for anything else. Let her."

"If they see us, the game is over," Hera muttered. "Now or never."

Sweat beaded Kalaes' forehead like minute teardrops. Maera's arm trembled under Elei's fingers. The Fleet rumbled behind them, a gigantic wave rising to engulf them.

Kalaes released the lever. Elei sagged. With Maera's hand still on her shoulder, Hera pushed the lever and straightened the aircar. Punching the acceleration to the maximum, she drove them up the steep hill road. The whole vehicle vibrated with tension. They crested the summit, plunged behind it and came to land in a hollow, immediately powering down into stand-by mode.

Bathed in golden late afternoon light, they sat and listened to the quiet. Above the whisper of rapid breathing, the hum of the _seleukids_ came and went.

"Now what?" Kalaes said after a moment.

Hera didn't turn toward them. "We hide and wait until they pass. It could work for a while." She sat still in her seat, her hands relaxed on the controls. She didn't even seem to be breathing, and Elei had a brief moment of fear that she'd somehow died sitting there. Then she twitched her hand and pressed the energy conservation button, and he crushed his stupid thoughts.

Above boomed _seleukids_. The diamond-shaped, military aircraft flew over their tiny craft in long, black lines, splitting the sky.

_Gods, so many!_ Kalaes was right. They'd sent the Fleet. The whole damn Fleet to find him. Elei's heart sank in dark despair.

They waited in silence until the last ones had passed and vanished over the mountain, leaving behind white lines of fumes. Kalaes' and Maera's faces were pale, their eyes wide. Hera just looked pissed. She jabbed at the controls.

The aircar powered up again. A loose panel rattled, grating on Elei's nerves. Hera thumbed the screen, switched to flight mode and took them out of the depression in the ground in whose shadow they'd hidden. They flew toward the mountains.

The first one rose like a pinnacle, and they traveled over gray hamlets nestled on mountain terraces, on to Akmon. It was a small mining town built on the slope, on a plateau, with high buildings half-carved into the mountainside, half-built over the road that curled around it. Hera took them down on a narrow landing pad, setting the aircar down perfectly on the indicated lines, near another small vehicle.

She turned toward them, face expressionless. "Here." She reached over the seat and placed a piece of paper into Elei's lax hand. His fingers curled around it reflexively. "The code for the main door, on the ground level. Apartment number 16. It's the building beside the air-truck station." Her eyes hid in shadow.

Elei pushed the paper into his pocket, patted it. The gesture reminded him of the paper Pelia had shoved into his pocket. He wondered why Hera had given it to him, and not to one of the others. Kalaes seemed a more natural choice.

"You'll just leave us here? With no way to leave?" Maera's voice rose in volume with each word.

Hera gave her a long look. "Yes. Are you going to cry, little girl?"

"Hey." Kalaes placed his arm around Maera's thin shoulders. "You don't have to be rude. We're not used to running from the Fleet. Are you?"

Hera scowled. "Off you go."

Maera huffed and pushed the door open. She climbed out without a word.

"They must have realized we fooled them," Hera said, her expression not changing. "I'll try to distract them and keep them as far away from you as possible."

Elei opened his mouth, but Hera's dark gaze pinned him like an insect, examining him. Her lips parted slightly, just enough for a faint exhalation that sent a white cloud into the air.

"Thank you," was all he had the time to say before Kalaes went out of the door and called his name. Elei struggled to the opening and sat with his legs hanging over the edge. Kalaes gripped his arms and pulled him out bodily. They joined Maera on the landing pad. Together they stood on the wind-swept flank of the mountain, hair whipping, and watched as the aircar took off with a roar of engines. Following the narrow road, it dipped down the slope, vanishing from view, like part of a conjuring trick.

The mountain rose above them, vertical cliffs cut with platforms of mines and desolate hamlets. Akmon had one main street, lit with four street lamps, and a couple of back streets. As they walked down the road, they saw a food store, a lamp flashing on its porch. A skinny dog hobbled around a corner and whined.

"There." Kalaes pointed at the air-truck station. Maera went up front, Kalaes helped Elei along, for which Elei was both grateful and embarrassed. The building next to the station was gray and dark. Nothing moved around it, no light burned in its windows. Didn't anybody live there?

A spiral staircase wound up its façade, creaking in the cold wind, with landings at each floor. Maera waited at the main ground level door, while Elei fumbled with the piece of paper, turning it in the direction of the faint light from the station. Hesitantly he punched in the code, and the door hissed open.

They stumbled in the black of the corridor as the door shut behind them, found the apartment at its end and entered. Kalaes cursed as he searched the walls for a switch. It was Maera who found it, illuminating two big furnished rooms and what looked like a bathroom.

Maera went to explore. "Hey, would you look at this! A shower." She whistled.

Elei fell into a black, cloth-covered armchair and sighed. A shower? He wondered how the Undercurrent could afford such luxury. The water used was undrinkable, of course, tainted a light blue from _silla_ remnants. Not a problem for the skin. He'd love to use it, but he was just too tired to move. On Ost, he'd paid a small fortune to use the communal showers once in a while. Sometimes people stared at his marked back, sometimes they picked fights with him. Mostly, though, they avoided him with a sort of superstitious fear, for having survived.

They weren't more surprised than he was about it.

"Never seen a shower in a private apartment before," Kalaes muttered.

Elei hadn't either. Did Pelia have one? He'd never entered beyond her living room. So many things he'd never thought to ask her, and now it was too late.

"Hey, are you going into a coma again, fe?" Kalaes' eyes narrowed. "Drink some more water first, eat some bread. Here."

Kalaes dropped his bag on a table and took out the bottle. He unscrewed it and pushed it into Elei's hands. "Are you listening?"

Elei took a swig and realized how thirsty he was. He swallowed and swallowed, and he'd probably have drunk it all if Kalaes hadn't pried it from his fingers with a snort.

"You're really feeling better, aren't you?"

Elei took stock of his sluggish body, flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders. Yes, he was feeling better. But he needed to sleep. Kalaes pushed a chunk of bread into his hand, and he bit into it mechanically, eyelids drooping.

When Maera checked the furniture, brushing off dust and cobwebs, Kalaes bent to help her and their shoulders touched. Maera giggled. Kalaes shoved her playfully and she shoved him back.

They were flirting.

Elei's chest tightened and he wiped the breadcrumbs from his lap. They seemed happy together. And they had no homes anymore and no jobs, thanks to him. He'd taken everything from them, given nothing back. Just like he had done to Pelia. She'd taken him in and he'd never had the chance to do something nice for her or even thank her.

He wasn't worth keeping around.

That was his last little thought before he fell fast asleep where he sat.

"Still alive, huh?" said Poena and reached out to him. "Come, take my hand." She stood in a long boat on a blue lake, her yellow dress blinding bright against a black horizon. "Come on, try."

He tried to move in his dreamscape, but couldn't control his body. "Can't. Why?" A temple rose behind her, though he was sure it wasn't there a moment ago. Tall statues of nude women held its marble roof, and jets of water jumped before the many steps that led up to the entrance. "What is this place?"

"The fountainhead." The girl smiled. "The great source. Where you must go. Spill the blood in the water, Elei."

He managed to raise his hand, as if through hardening glue, but he still couldn't touch her. "I've met you somewhere before, haven't I?"

She giggled. "Everything is possible, my king."

"King?" He laughed. "This is a good dream."

"Is it?" She turned serious, dropped her hand and glanced over her shoulder at the temple with the water jets. Her eyes glinted like a cat's, and sudden fear rose in his throat. "Not everything is as it seems to be, my king. You'll see."

He jerked awake to a sound he couldn't place. It made him think of pain. He stayed very still, listening.

A moan.

He pushed himself to his feet, muscles screaming, pulled out his gun, and stumbled to the door. His heart thumped, but the world didn't bloom into colors like every time since he could remember. Why was cronion not reacting? Was it truly dead?

He considered the situation. They'd been found, obviously. Someone had hurt the others, but had missed him.

Screw them. They were going to pay dearly. Now this sickness was over, he would finally take action. He leveled his gun and softly pushed the door of the other room, looked inside.

And froze.

On the couch lay two bodies. Elei stared, hardly breathing. The bodies moved. Not dead, they were not dead. And... He saw dark curls and a woman's beautiful breasts, small and firm with sugar brown nipples. Her long legs were creamy white, stretched out and displayed against the dark green fabric of the couch. A man's broad back, unmarred, smooth, rippled with muscles as he nuzzled her neck. Drops of sweat rolled down his spine, catching a lamp's faint light with tiny sparks. A soft moan sounded.

And Elei still stared like a fool. _Pissing hells_.

He'd almost shot them.

Elei lowered his gun and backed out before they sensed his presence, before he spoilt it for them. He staggered out, leaned on a wall and cursed silently. Of course. He should have expected it.

Kalaes had finally convinced Maera to have sex.

Perhaps Kalaes would laugh all day now — after all, he'd grinned through most of the previous mess. There had to be an upping of the stakes. Perhaps he'd jump around and shout. Perhaps he'd sing stupid love songs.

Elei felt empty as he fell back into his armchair. He should be happy for them. He didn't know why he wasn't. A strange feeling of betrayal turned his thoughts bitter.

_Come on_ , he told himself. _What is this now? Did you want Maera for yourself? Is that it? Did you intend to try and take her from Kalaes, the guy who has helped you and lost everything because of you? Who was going to buy a mattress, let you sleep in his apartment while he had one? Aren't you disgusted with yourself?_

He was. He stared at his gun stupidly. Was that the reason he felt like that? Jealousy? Pettiness?

Or did he feel left out? Pushed aside? Like the proverbial third wheel?

_Hells_. He'd thought himself nobler.

But, as usual, he was wrong when it came to judging human character. Even his own.

Chapter 17

Draped uncomfortably on the armchair, Elei closed his eyes and tried to catch another wink before dawn broke. Then the sunlight from the window hit him square in the face and he gave up. He stood and tried to work out the kinks by stretching his arms and walking up and down. His body still wasn't very happy with him, but Elei couldn't complain. He'd brushed by death close enough to believe there would be no return this time — yet here he was, alive and kicking.

Elei rubbed the side of his neck and up his cheek, feeling the new tel-marks, rough snake scales that had spread there. His skin felt hot, like burning _dakron_. He stood at the window and gazed over the mountain slope at the scintillating rocks and a hint of the plain below, the light spreading wide like water.

_Water_. Poena's words echoed in his head. _Spill blood in the water_. The fountainhead and the temple. What a weird dream.

Then he remembered Maera and Kalaes. Embarrassment fought with unease, hot and cold rushing through him. _What in the hells is wrong with me?_ He raked his hands through his hair and spun around. He'd take a shower. Celebrate his survival.

Scratching at the maddening, all-consuming itch on his arms, he entered the bathroom. A rusty showerhead jutted from the wall, and in a corner of the concrete floor was a drain. A stained curtain hung from hooks in the ceiling, but otherwise the room was clean. _Good enough_. A cracked mirror was mounted on the wall and he consciously opted not to look. He didn't need to see his own accusing glare. He noticed a stool underneath the sink with a stack of folded towels. What else could anyone ask for?

He shut and locked the door, placed his gun on top of the towels and stripped. Carefully, he unwound the bandage from his waist. The wound was healing, red and tender. He stepped underneath the showerhead and turned the faucet on. Pipes creaked and groaned, then came a rushing noise and water gurgled. He let out an involuntary cry as the cold water hit him, a rain of razor blades. In his limited experience with washing, he'd never been drenched in such icy water and with such pressure. The wet rags he'd normally use to clean up just didn't compare.

Teeth chattering, Elei scrubbed himself with his hands the best he could and washed as thoroughly as possible without a soap. Well, at least his skin was now numb and the burning sensations ceased. He hissed when he turned his face into the icy spray, and his fists clenched in reaction. Oh, gods, the things one did to get clean.

He bowed his head under the spray, letting it drench his grimy hair, and passed his hands through it, dislodging dried blood and grit. He rubbed his neck, his shoulders, his stomach. The image of Maera's naked breasts flashed through his mind briefly, teasingly, and despite the cold he ached with desire.

Elei snarled at himself and his idiocy. He'd never even been with a woman before, not past the kissing part anyway, and he wasn't about to start with Kalaes' girlfriend. There would be other women, perhaps, if he got out of this mess.

The sting of the cold became too much. Screw showering. He took a step away from the spray.

His skin flared with fire, an unbearable itch that burned and ate at his flesh. With a gasp, he returned under the showerhead to find relief, hand closing over the faucet and cranking it up. The shock of the cold gave way to a need for wetness, a deep urge to fall into the water, to dissipate in it. Whispers played in his mind, images of fountains and streams gurgling down wide ditches, the water swirling in transparent eddies, bringing with it all that was dead. He saw himself fall into the streams, carried out and plummeting into sea; diving to green and blue depths, steeped in quiet.

A boom shattered the calm.

He blinked and blue radiance jumped around him, outlining each object. He rubbed his eye and took a deep breath when the brightness faded.

The booming sound came again and he became aware of loud knocking on the door.

"Dammit, Elei, are you all right in there?" Kalaes' worried voice. "You've been in there for ages. Elei!"

He raised his hands and spread his fingers. His nails were a deep blue from the cold and he started to shiver all over. "I'm fine!" His clenched jaw didn't allow more words.

Kalaes stopped trying to cave in the door and quiet fell once more.

Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and rubbed himself roughly, more to restart circulation rather than to get dry. He forced his shaking limbs into his clothes and finally glanced at the mirror. With his fingers, he tried to straighten his short hair as much as he could, ignoring the image of his hollow cheeks and angry eyes.

But then something caught his attention and he leaned closer. If cronion was gone, instead of cronion's dull green, his right eye ought to be the same brown color as the other one. But it wasn't; it was a clear, light blue.

Elei frowned. _The hell?_ Then his gaze caught dark spots on his neck. He pulled down his high polo-neck. New marks, small, dark and round like beads, a necklace of them.

Shaking his head, he unlocked and yanked the door open.

"Elei? What are you doing?"

He flinched. Maera stood at the opening, wrapped in a blanket, her naked shoulders round and flawless. His body got that same appropriate reaction again — or was it inappropriate, now that she was Kalaes' girlfriend? — and he realized he was gaping. "I'm just—"

"Are you finished here? Can I use the toilet?"

Cursing inwardly, he nodded. He brushed by her on his way out and stumbled, barely avoided falling onto his face by hanging onto the door handle at the last second.

_Just pissing great._ He wondered if he could make a greater fool of himself. It had to stop right there. He didn't desire Maera. He didn't, really didn't.

It was his new mantra.

Then the fine hairs on his nape bristled. He whirled about.

Kalaes stared at him with a grin on his face, leaning on the door frame, arms folded over his naked chest. A pendant hung around his neck, a medallion of dull metal with a map of the seven islands. He had an old _palantin_ scar on one arm, a nasty disease Elei had thankfully managed to avoid as a child, and plenty of old fight scars on his chest and forearms. It looked like, in his past, Kalaes had been stabbed, slashed and shot at quite a lot. He also had a tattoo over his heart — a circle with a star inside.

"What are you staring at, fe?" Kalaes grinned and lifted his chin. "D'you like my tattoos?"

Elei wrenched his gaze away. "Are they gang tattoos?"

Kalaes tsked. "This one is." He placed three fingers against the three parallel lines marking his cheek. "Though I don't have a gang anymore."

So much for belonging to Kalaes' gang, then. _Maera and her ideas_. Oddly disappointed, Elei stomped out and into the room where he'd spent the night. He rubbed his burning shoulders through the rough cloth of the sweater and told himself to get a grip.

Kalaes' steps followed him. "You took a shower, huh? How was the experience?"

"It was pissing cold."

Kalaes laughed out loud, a deep resonating sound. So, Kalaes was laughing. Check. Wait for the dance of joy, coming up next.

"Sorry, fe. I've never heard you say the word 'pissing' before. I must be rubbing off on you."

Yeah.

"You won't believe this, fe."

_Try me_ , Elei thought darkly.

"Maera and I..."

Elei waited, heart pounding.

Kalaes just chuckled and shook his head. He played with the medallion hanging on his chest. "Um, listen. I need to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah. All this being chased around and the stress, well, it kind of made up her mind. To have sex with me, fe."

"You're crazy, you know that?" An exasperated sigh left his lips, despite his best efforts. Kalaes had lost his job and his apartment and he was on the run. But he'd gotten some and now he was floating on a pink cloud.

_And why not?_ Elei rubbed the back of his neck. _I've lost everything and got no sex. At least he did, and with a pretty girl, too. The one he wanted. He has a right to be happy._

So happy he hadn't noticed anything strange about Elei's fast recovery, or about the strange new color of his right eye.

Elei turned to the window.

And why wouldn't Maera make up her mind about Kalaes? He was a handsome man. Apart from his hands and the old _palantin_ scar on his arm, he had no other marks of parasites that Elei had noticed. Strong shoulders, square jaw. Clean of illnesses. Probably had lots of different antibodies. _Just what a girl might want_.

"What's this?" Kalaes came to stand beside Elei, wrinkling his nose. "Can you smell it?"

"Smell what, Kalaes?" Elei sniffed.

"Just call me Kal, all right, fe? Smells like spice. Like pepper. It must be the soap."

Elei pursed his lips. He'd found no soap. "Nah." He sniffed his skin and stiffened. Pepper. Spot on. Cronion and telmion didn't smell like that. A new parasite. Everything pointed to such a conclusion.

Kalaes spun around at the sound of the bathroom door opening. "I'll go clean myself, then let's see what we've got to eat."

Elei shook himself like a dog. He had to move, not let his mind sink into useless fears and doubts. It had always worked for him before.

He went to check and found half a bottle of water and a slice of stale blue bread. End of list. He turned the slice of bread over in his hand, hungry but not sure it was fair to eat it and leave nothing for the others.

"Hey."

He almost dropped the bread.

Maera smirked at him. "I'm going out."

"Where?"

"To the food store we saw on our way here" She winked. "I'll go buy something to eat."

He put the bread down. "That's dangerous. Let me—"

But Maera laughed lightly and strolled out of the living room. He heard the main door click shut behind her.

"—go instead," he finished the sentence to himself.

"Where did she go?" Kalaes said from behind his back.

Elei gasped and turned, his pulse screaming in his ears. "Gods, don't pissing do that!" _Holy shit_. He still half-expected cronion to react, but of course nothing happened. He inhaled deeply to calm his pounding heart. "She went to buy food."

Kalaes rubbed his eyes. "Oh. Good. Food's good."

He had a point. Elei's stomach agreed quite loudly. A craving for sugar made his mouth water. He hoped Maera would bring something sweet.

"I feel as if a freight-barge hit me, fe. I'm exhausted." Kalaes flopped into the chair where Elei had spent the night. "But you look much better. Back at the ruins, in the basement, you kept vomiting, and we couldn't wake you, and you were burning up. It was all we could do to keep your airways clear for breathing and trickle water down your throat. Pissing scary, I tell you."

Elei shuddered.

Kalaes pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. The two braids hanging over his ear swung forward over his cheek. "Did you manage to remember anything, fe? About what Pelia told you?"

"No. Do you think they'll ever stop looking for me?" The Gultur, their spies, the Fleet.

"Perhaps some day." Kalaes shrugged. "But not any day soon."

Elei had feared as much. With nothing else to occupy his mind, which was going around in useless circles, he picked up his gun. Methodically he took it apart and put it back together. An automatic check. Then he did it again, faster.

"Damn, you're quick, fe." Kalaes' awe sounded genuine. "Looks like you know your gun. A Rasmus, isn't it? Old model. Are you a good shot?"

Elei nodded. Cronion helped with quick reflexes and good vision. He wondered how his skill would be affected now cronion was gone, and he swallowed fear. He'd been the best of his line at the training drills of the factory convent. Probably the reason Pelia had chosen him as her driver. Maybe. That was what the monks had said.

He preferred to think she'd liked him from the start, like a mother who would recognize her child in a crowd.

_Yeah, right_. What a moronic notion. Just like the happy endings in Albi's bedtime stories.

The main door of the apartment creaked and cold washed down Elei's spine. He jumped to his feet and stepped out of the room and into the hallway, gun trained on whoever walked through.

"I'm back, guys!" Maera entered like a bright morning, smiling and carrying two bags in her arms.

Elei sagged against the wall and lowered his gun. _Just Maera_. She brushed past him and he trailed after her. She dropped the bags on the table and took out smoked herring and blue bread. He helped her unpack the rest and they sat down to eat. With each bite, he tried not to stare at the two of them, at the way their thighs touched and their hands brushed against each other all the time, at their secret smiles and giggles.

Instead, he gazed at the packages of food without really seeing them.

Yeah, well, he wasn't going to stay with Kalaes and Maera forever. At some point he'd have to leave and leave for good. Leave them in peace. He owed them that much. Let them rebuild their lives, free of suspicion and pursuers.

"Hey! Where's your mind wandering off to again, fe?"

He dredged up a smile for Kalaes and stuffed his mouth with sugary K-blooms to avoid answering. He sighed in relief at the sweet taste and something unclenched in his gut.

"What are we going to do now?" Maera asked.

Her question hung like a cleaver over their heads.

"Wait." Kalaes bit into an algae biscuit and chewed noisily. "We wait. Hera said she'll come."

"And you trust her? I don't." Maera pulled one cloth-clad leg up and rested her elbow on her knee.

"Because she makes fun of you." Kalaes poked her side and she giggled. "Hey, little girl." His grin reached his ears, and Elei looked away, wincing.

_Stop it_ , he told himself. _Be happy. Smile._

He tried to, but it felt like a grimace.

"Whatever, Kal." Maera rolled her eyes. "You know that's not the reason."

"I know. I don't trust her either, Mae. But she's helping us. I can't think of anyone else who would right now."

"And when _Hera_ comes," Maera drew out the name, "what then? Can we go back to Aerica? We have no jobs, and you've got no apartment, and I'm sure if I'm gone any longer my landlady will throw my things into the street, or, better still, sell them."

They sat in stale silence.

_All this supposing we survive_ , Elei thought. _Supposing at some point they let us go and live in peace._ He pressed his thumb against his forehead. _Or at least them_.

Kalaes pulled Maera closer, his arms circling her waist, and Elei shot to his feet. He grabbed a piece of bread and went to ruminate by the window.

Morning had rolled into high noon. Daylight glinted on the mountain slopes, reflecting on buildings and aircars. Blinded, he half-closed his eyes. They hurt, and lights danced before him. It was as if the sky swarmed with aircraft.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

The sky swarmed with aircraft.

He dropped to the floor, the bread falling from his hand. "Shit!" Fear rolled inside him in great, towering waves.

"Elei?" Kalaes scrambled out of his seat. His whole body blazed a deep crimson. "What is—"

"Get down!" Elei shouted. "We've been found."

Maera rose, her face a white oval, red sparks jumping from her chest. "No. They can't. Kal?"

"I can see them," Kalaes' voice grated, rough like sandpaper. "Get on the floor, Mae. How did they find us?"

"Damn Hera!" Maera's voice shook as she dropped to her knees. "She betrayed us! She left us here with no means of transport—"

"She's been helping us!" Kalaes said.

Maera stabbed a finger at him. "You just like her pretty face!"

"What? No!" Kalaes cursed. "I don't like her any more than you do."

"We've got to get out of here." Elei moved toward the door, keeping low. Hopefully their pursuers didn't know which apartment to target.

The boom of cannons blasted through the apartment. The windows exploded and glass rained inside. Maera squealed.

The Fleet didn't need to know which apartment to target. They could take down the building. Or the whole town of Akmon. In his experience, the Gultur didn't hold the human life to much value.

Kalaes grabbed his t-shirt from a chair. Elei inched out the door and down the hallway, pulling Maera by the hand. The passage flashed red, then blue, and it seemed to be breathing, expanding and contracting like a hallucination born of high fever.

An explosion rocked the building. Fire burst through the front door and they ducked as debris flew, hitting the walls.

"Back away. Find the fire escape!" Kalaes shouted.

Maera jerked on their hands. "There."

They raced toward the narrow metal door at the other end of the dark passage. Kalaes kicked it open with a booted foot, and they stepped out into the daylight. Shading their eyes they looked up at the Fleet, then they hurtled into the narrow streets. The hum of the _seleukids_ filled the air and shells exploded in the air-truck station. Fragments flew, slamming into everything, and they cowered, covering their heads.

Kalaes sprinted down a side street, his naked torso pale in the faint light, dragging them along by their hands. They turned the corner and Maera grunted and slowed down. Elei pulled at her hand, fear clawing at his insides. They ran behind the buildings, in narrow streets, but the rain of fire followed them. A house to their left exploded. Maera gasped and fell to her knees. Elei pulled her to her feet and hesitated, not knowing which way to go.

There were only so many places to hide in the small town, and the _seleukids_ were methodically destroying them one by one. Rectangular drones burst from the _seleukids_ and flew through the narrow alleys, the rat-a-tat of their machine guns echoing. People ran down the main street, screaming. Thick smoke curled over the rubble of bombed buildings. Dust hung thick in the air.

Kalaes coughed as he pulled them away from a crumbling block of apartments. An aircar rumbled down the street, packed with miners dressed in their dark uniforms and yellow helmets.

"Hey!" Kalaes let go of Maera's hand and ran after them, waving his t-shirt in the air. "Take us with you!"

They were too far and didn't notice him. The vehicle accelerated and vanished behind a corner. Another large aircar was already traveling full speed down the mountain slope from the mines.

They had to find a way to leave Akmon on their own. Beside the landing pad, the previous night he'd seen a small aircar under a camo cover. Elei took the lead.

"Where are you going?" Kalaes shouted, pulling on his t-shirt as he ran to join them.

Elei tugged on Maera's hand. "Follow me."

Burning debris rained down on them. Sirens wailed. A woman passed them by, sobbing into her hands.

"Hey!" Kalaes called after her, but she squealed and ran away. "Wait."

Smoke blotted out the world. Drones flew overhead, their whine ringing in Elei's ears. He stopped and rubbed his smarting eyes, trying to see. "Kalaes!"

Maera disengaged from his hold, leaving him alone in the cloud of dust. He groped about, coughing. An explosion boomed to his left. The ground shook. "Dammit, Kalaes!"

Then a hand caught his arm. "I found him," Maera said and dragged Kalaes next to Elei. The older boy was limping.

Shit.

Elei wiped his watering eyes again. He had to get them out of here if it was the last thing he did. He had to find that aircar. As the smoke cleared somewhat, he made out the slope. "Come on."

He placed Kalaes between him and Maera, to make sure he wouldn't lag behind, and headed for the steep mountain slope where Hera had deposited them. The _seleukid_ guns boomed again, shells slamming into the slope, exploding into a rain of sharp stones.

Elei halted. The landing pad was empty. The aircar was gone.

They weren't going to make it. The certainty of the fact landed like a punch in his stomach. He'd get Kalaes and Maera killed.

His pulse roared, blotting out the explosions. There was no way they could scale this steep slope up or down, unless Hera came. They needed to find a protected place and wait for her. He licked dry lips. She'd come, wouldn't she? He didn't know why he believed it. Maybe it was that softness he'd seen in her gaze.

A narrow ledge led up to a mine. The path was deserted. If they were fast enough, maybe they could hide in the tunnels.

Hera, where are you?

Elei raced along the ledge, and the two others followed, slipping in mineral dust and loose earth. Huge chunks of rock jutted out of the slope further down. Good hiding places, if only they were in time. If only the enemy didn't shoot them down before that.

The _seleukids_ rose higher and more drones spilled out of their bellies. His heart sank. _No chance_.

But then he smelled the bitter fumes of _dakron_ and _silla_ coming from below their feet. A vehicle was there, hidden behind a rocky outcrop. He hesitated.

It could be Hera, or it could be the enemy. The _seleukids_ boomed as they passed overhead, and explosions rocked the ground. He staggered and made up his mind. He changed direction, leaving the ledge, and climbed off the path. "This way. It's an aircar."

"Are you nuts? Maybe it's theirs. We have to keep going up, we need to—"

"Come on." He turned, grabbed Kalaes' hand and dragged him down a few feet. Bullets flew around them, hitting the rocks and sending chips of stone flying. Fragments stung Elei's face and shoulders.

Kalaes dug his heels in and squinted down. "What're you talking about, fe? I don't see or hear a pissing thing."

"But I do." Elei pulled Kalaes behind him. The smell was stronger now, and his gut twanged like a chord. _Odd_. It was as if something called him, hooked him and invited him over. "The vehicle's hidden by the outcrop."

The hum of the aircar finally reached his ears. The craft rose right before them, motionless and shimmering like a dragonfly. The door gaped open.

Through the exhaust fumes that filled the air, he smelled Hera's scent of ripe fruit. _Really odd_. "Get ready to jump."

"Come!" Hera's voice sounded tinny, as if from a deep cave.

"Go!" Elei pushed Maera before him and toward the door. She jumped the small distance and grabbed the doorframe. Kalaes sprang after her, listing for a dreadful second, then going in. Elei sprinted just as the aircar wavered in position and Kalaes grabbed his arms and hauled him inside. They cowered as bullets rattled. Then they were out of there, rising above the mountain slope and diving toward the plain.

"I was coming to recover you," she said while her long fingers danced on the console. "They got here first. I thought I was too late."

Elei risked a look behind. The Fleet was a black cloud descending upon Akmon. In contrast to their old aircar, the _seleukids_ slipped through space fast as thoughts. "Hera, please tell me you have a plan."

"Oh, you can speak!" She arched an eyebrow at him, but kept her gaze ahead. Her face glowed like a mask of gold. "That is a change. And you are not vomiting all over the place. I'm positively impressed. Have you remembered Pelia's words?"

His ears burned. "I asked if you have a plan."

"Yes, I do. My plan is to move up this slope undetected and hide you close by. We cannot move down to the plain while the Fleet is here."

"That's hardly a plan," Elei muttered, disheartened.

"Listen, boy. Your usefulness is limited to Pelia's words. As for my plans, they have been overturned too many times already. It's getting increasingly difficult to think ahead, to think of places to hide you." She shifted in her seat, shoulders tensing. "Actually, things are getting difficult in general."

The roar of the Fleet drowned all sound now.

Maera screamed to be heard. "So what? We all die?"

The aircar rose and dipped among boulders, dove down into valleys where trucks moved, loaded with _dakron_ and other minerals, seemingly oblivious to the destruction taking place on the mountain slope.

"I never said that, little girl, so stop your whining. I no more have access to their codes of passage, true. The plain highways are forbidden to us until the Resistance finds a way to contact me again. But I do have one last hiding place, a place nobody knows about, not even my team. If I manage to take you there in time, you'll be safe for a while."

_Safe. The magical word_. "What got us into trouble this time?"

Hera laughed, a harsh sound. "You're always in trouble."

"That's not an answer," Kalaes said quietly.

"Why should I answer to you?" She maneuvered the craft among rock formations, gripping the lever so hard her knuckles blanched.

"Please, Hera," Elei said. "Just tell us."

She threw him a sharp look. Her dark eyes glimmered. "I do not know. Monitoring their communications is not easy. They encrypted the message going out to all _seleukids_ , but I cracked the code. They did not explain how they knew. My only hope was to reach you before them, but as you see I failed."

Kalaes fell silent then, and so did Elei. The aircar rounded a crag and zoomed into a black opening in the rock. There it powered down and rested in darkness.

"A cave?" Kalaes' voice rang too loud. Elei flinched.

The metallic structure holding up the tunnel looked manmade.

"Looks like an abandoned mine." Elei unlocked the door and dropped outside into a crouch. He straightened. Rock and sand crunched underneath his boots, startlingly loud in the quiet, and he looked into the dark. With his possessed right eye, he saw roughly hewn walls, the track lines of a mine train, and in the depths of the tunnel a pile of rocks. The mine was blocked.

Kalaes stumbled and fell, cursing. "I can't see a damn thing."

Maera staggered out. Elei frowned and reached out to help her. He caught Maera's flailing arms and Kalaes' shoulder and pushed them against a wall.

"Elei? Damn, is that you? How come you're not floundering like us, huh?" Then Kalaes exhaled loudly and it sounded like laughter. "You can see, can't you, fe?"

Elei shrugged, then remembered they couldn't see him. "Yes."

"But I thought cronion was gone."

So did I.

If cronion was gone, what made him see in the dark? He remembered the new color in his eye, the dark marks on his neck, the new smell of his skin, the burning sensations. Another intruder. Another parasite.

A shudder of unease went through his bones.

"Here," came Hera's voice. He saw her lean out of the aircar, a phosphorus torch in her hand. "You might need this. And this."

She lowered out a thermos and a bread box. Elei went and caught them, and saw her teeth flash in a quick smile. Pretty, his mind said and he shushed it. Scary, he amended and stepped back.

Hera landed softly on her feet. She rubbed her arms and went to lean against the aircar's front. Kalaes limped to Elei, grabbed the torch and flashed it around, illumining the long shaft. Crystals shimmered, embedded in the rock. The light fragmented into rainbows where it touched them.

"You're bleeding." Maera nudged Kalaes until his back met the wall and knelt down to check his calf. He pointed the torch down to give her light. Blood seeped through the khaki cloth.

Elei held himself very straight, hands curling into fists. "Is it bad?"

Maera took the torch, placed it on the floor so that it shone on Kalaes and tore off the leg of his pants. "Shrapnel from the shells. Don't move, I've got it." She wrapped her hand in the cloth, grabbed the piece and yanked it out in one smooth movement.

Kalaes cried out, in pain or surprise, or both. "Pissing hells, warn me next time, okay?"

Elei winced in sympathy.

With jerky motions, face pale, Kalaes ripped a strip from his t-shirt. "Here." He handed it down to Maera who wrapped it around his calf and tied it off.

"Where did you get military training, little girl?" Hera asked in a flat voice.

Maera pushed herself to her feet and turned to face Hera with a dark frown. "I got no military training. Why are you saying that?"

Hera shrugged. "I saw you jump onto the aircar like a pro. And you recognized and pulled the shrapnel out without hesitation. It looks like you have seen and treated wounds like that before."

"Well, I—"

"We've both seen wounds like this." Kalaes reached out and pulled Maera to lean against his chest. "She's worked in a hospital in Artemisia, right, Mae?"

She nodded, biting her lip. Kalaes' hand smoothed over her curls.

"Why would she have seen shrapnel wounds in a hospital?" Hera asked.

"Machinery exploding, bombs going off in cars and buildings." Kalaes flashed her a grim smile. "Terrorism, remember? Haven't you read about it in the news?"

Hera shook her head. "I should get going." She gave a mocking bow. "Nice to see you're one happy family."

"Right." Kalaes cocked his head to the side. "Our five minutes with you are up?"

Hera huffed. "I must return before my absence causes suspicion."

"Return where? How do we know you won't betray us?"

She turned around, eyes flashing anger. "Return to work. I have helped you every single time, risking my life and..." She trailed off, staring wide-eyed at Elei, and pressed her hand to her stomach.

Was she sick, too? "What's wrong?"

She jabbed her finger at him. "It's you!"

He looked down at himself, wondering what it was she saw, uneasy. "What now?"

"You." She licked her lips. "Your smell is different, peppery sweet. And your eye..." She strode to him and gripped his chin in her strong hand. "Your right eye has changed color."

"It's nothing." He pried her hand off and turned his face away. "You see really well in the dark, don't you?" _Peculiar_.

"And this... What's this?" She twisted her hand in his polo-neck sweater and pulled the neckline down. Then she let go, hissing, hands clenching on nothingness. "These marks are new. It's not telmion."

"So it's another parasite." He tried not to dwell on the fact that it had somehow beaten cronion and telmion to submission. A parasite that strong couldn't be good news for its host.

Kalaes limped over to them, the torch flashing in Hera's face. "What are these marks you're talking about?"

"Ask your little girlfriend, why not? She must know."

"You leave her out of this game you're playing!" Kalaes snarled.

"Why? She would know the signs of most diseases if she worked in a hospital. Do you know what this new parasite is, little girl?"

Maera didn't answer. She folded her arms across her chest, scowling.

"What. Is. It." Kalaes' fists rose.

Hera grinned but it was strained, like a rictus of death. "I do not know."

"But it scares you, why?" Kalaes whispered.

"Hera," Elei said and his breath wheezed with his own fear. "You know what it is, don't you?"

"I know it has taken a seat in your eye and lets you see in the dark, and probably not only heat sources, am I right?" When Elei nodded, she shuddered. "It suppressed telmion, then overthrew cronion and took its place. Odds are it comes from cronion's family, but in a variant I have never encountered before. What else does it do, Elei?"

The marks on his throat burned like lit coals. "I can smell and hear better." He didn't want to tell them about the burning sensations, about his obsession with the water and sweet food. He was scaring them enough already.

"That's how you found Hera," Maera whispered breathlessly. "You smelled the fumes of the aircar, didn't you?"

Elei nodded.

"You haven't answered my question, Hera," Kalaes said. "Why were you scared?"

Elei saw again the look on her face as she'd turned, hand pressed to her stomach, and something clicked. "Because her own parasite responded, right, Hera? All the tiny microscopic parasites in your blood, in your organs, moving as one." He pressed his hand against his twinging stomach and his mind whirred through a maze of thoughts. "Maybe this wasn't even the first time you felt it, but you didn't know what it was before. I know you didn't see the marks on my neck. You couldn't have. My sweater hides them. But you felt it, didn't you? In your gut."

She took a step back and covered her mouth with her hand.

"A strong parasite reacting to another strong one," Elei said, "one that used to be an enemy to yours. I have a new strain of cronion, so you said." Pieces fell into place with frightening clangs. His lungs felt crushed. The picture emerging was not possible, not true.

But then he thought of the unusual colors her body pulsed. Her attractive scent. The marks on her fingers. The reason she knew so much about Regina and about the Gulturs' codes and movements.

Elei didn't know much about them, had never met one face to face. But somehow, at this moment, he knew he was looking at one of them. "You're a Gultur."

Chapter 18

Hera struggled with shock, confusion and anger, all twisting in knots inside her. Why had she made the mistake and come back for them? They did not trust her before, and would never trust her now. The reputation of the Gultur — well deserved at that — was sufficient to brand her as the enemy.

She could not blame Elei.

Could not blame anyone at all.

_Sobek's fish tail_. She looked down, at the dark marks of Regina on her hands, wondering if they would kill her now or if she had a chance to escape.

Not that she knew where she could go. With a start, she realized she'd become used to being with these three, to their constant bickering and complex relationships; to their odd trust in each other.

_Oh for the sake of all the gods_. She did not need these mortals. She would go...

_The Undercurrent_. She mentally slapped her forehead. _Of course,_ hatha _, think!_ She would find a way to contact the rebels and they would find her a hiding place until she was able to leave Dakru for a less dangerous island, as far as possible from the central Gultur administration.

A shuffling sound brought her gaze back up and she narrowed her eyes at Kalaes who had his hand resting on the grip of his gun, apparently torn between shooting her on the spot and waiting a few minutes in case more information was forthcoming.

She did not want to kill him. He was a nice young man and she liked his dry humor. _What a waste_.

With a sigh, she prepared to run for her life. Contacting the Undercurrent was the best course of action.

If she survived today.

* * *

_A Gultur_. Elei cocked his head to the side, considering his own words, wondering if he was right. "Hera?"

Kalaes glanced from him to Hera and back. Then he bared his teeth and lifted his chin. He had his gun out and pointed at Hera's head so fast the movement was a blur. "Is it true?"

Maera stepped behind Kalaes, arms tense at her sides.

Elei, for some reason, didn't move, or take out his gun. He willed himself to do something even as he realized he'd somehow known the truth all along. Why wasn't she speaking? Wasn't she going to deny it? He hunted for any emotion on her face, but apart from a slight widening of her eyes, it remained blank.

"It was you then." Kalaes growled. "Playing with us, are you? Trying to trick us into thinking you're on our side, while leading everyone to us?"

"Do not be stupid." Hera sounded surprisingly calm with the gun aimed at her forehead. "I have not set you up. I'm on your side."

"A Gultur?" Maera's voice cracked. "On our side? Try again. For all we know, you're the one who shot Pelia."

Elei's gut clenched. She could be, he supposed. He hadn't considered the possibility. Why not? Why did he feel he could trust Hera?

He snorted. _You're the worst judge of character there is. That's why you trust her. Who's ever heard of a Gultur going against their strict codes and laws? Joining an underground organization to overthrow the matriarchal elite of her kind?_

One of the Gultur.

She could have turned them in from the start. If she hadn't, and if she was lying, then she was playing a complex game. But a game of what?

"I must go," Hera said, her voice flat. "Our only hope lies in my access to their communications, and I cannot let them suspect me by being away too long."

"Cheap excuse." Maera clucked her tongue. "Try another."

"This is not funny." Hera exhaled. "All our lives depend on me."

"Oh, so melodramatic," Maera purred. "Tell me, Hera, why should I trust a single word you say? Are you even human anymore?"

_Human_. Elei sucked a sharp breath. Hells, who was he to say the Gultur weren't human anymore? His body was possessed by so many parasites as to practically outnumber his human parts. What made someone human? Where did you draw the line?

"I must go," Hera repeated.

"You're not going anywhere," Kalaes said in a voice so cold it crackled. "You'll bring them down on us, right here."

"I swear to you I'm on your side." Hera arched an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do to prove it to you, jump into the void? Open my veins? Cut out my heart?"

"Mae's right, you're a drama queen," Kalaes said with a tight smile. "Why would I trust you? You appear at my apartment, and the next thing I know they burn it down. You make us move out, and then we're found again. And again."

"Why would I come in and save you every single time?"

"You're trying to get Elei's secret from him," Maera said. "That's what you want. You're a mole, trying to gain our trust."

That summed it up well. Elei swallowed a sigh.

Hera's eyes narrowed. "He'll never remember. He's a lost cause."

' _A lost cause,'_ Pelia's lilting voice echoed in Elei's memory. _'You're a lost cause, Elei, I'm telling you the tale is true. Stop making me laugh like that.'_ He wanted to laugh too, Pelia's laughter was so warm, like a cup of sweet tea, like a freshly-cooked fooncake. _'Laughing's good,'_ he'd replied, _'but that's a tale for children.' 'Yes, and you're so very old,'_ she teased, smiling. Then shots rang, tearing through the air, shattering the windowpanes of the aircar. Pelia slumped toward him, blood blossoming on her blouse, eyes wide. She pressed a gun to his side and whispered, _'I'm... Elei, I'm...'_

A hand shook him. "Elei! Hey, are you all right?"

He looked up into Kalaes' worried face. "Pelia..."

"What about her?"

"She said to me... She said she was sorry."

"What? When did she say that, why?" Kalaes looked past him and his eyebrows shot up. "Hey!" He started toward the mouth of the mine. "Hera! Dammit, where the hell do you think you're going?"

Elei turned to see Hera enter the aircar, a lithe, luminous silhouette, and slam the door shut. His feet felt rooted to the ground.

"Come back!" Kalaes reached the aircraft and slammed his fists against its door. He kicked the metal frame. His shouts faded in the roar of the engine as the aircar rose off the ground and backed out to hover in front of the mine, before it flew away. "She's gone! Damn!" Kalaes kicked at a loose stone and it skidded across the cave floor.

She'd used the distraction Elei had unwittingly provided. He stood there, numb. So she was a Gultur. She was the enemy. And they were now on their own, because, enemy or not, she'd saved them three times so far, at least.

"Kal?" Maera took the bottle from the floor and sat down, cradling it in her arms. "Nothing we can do about Hera now. Come sit with me."

In the soft darkness, Kalaes' limping steps sounded overloud. Elei turned away to give them some illusion of privacy and smelled the metallic tang of blood. Kalaes' wound still bled.

Beyond the entrance of the cave, night had fallen. All was quiet but for a lone cricket outside.

"Hey, fe, is that all Pelia said to you? That she was pissing sorry?" Kalaes sounded disappointed. No wonder.

He turned. Kalaes sat slumped against the rock wall, his shoulders drooping, next to Maera.

"No." Elei stared down at his boots.

"What then? Come on, spit it out, fe!"

Elei shook his head. "Right before she died, she was telling me a tale. A children's bedtime story about a king sleeping in the dark."

Kalaes shook his head. "Anything else?"

"Yeah." It seemed funny now, somehow, and ironic, and downright cruel on her part. "She shot me. And then she wished me luck."

* * *

Hera parked the aircar outside the Gultur headquarters of Sicyon, a small town in the plain, not far from Akmon. Built on the main road to the capital of Dakru, it was a crossroads that bustled with life. The plan was to check in, report, allay all suspicion.

The usual.

Inside the headquarters building, the quiet of the long entrance hall was only broken by her soft, booted footsteps. She slowed as she reached the end of the hall and turned left toward the offices. With her hand trailing on the cold metal wall, she thought of Elei and the madness of the current situation.

She'd been a fool. Pelia had obviously been murdered before telling anyone about the medicine shipment. Elei knew nothing, was a liability, and the trio distracted her from her mission and placed her in danger.

She stood still, a hand on the wall. Perhaps it was time to leave them, let them fend off the Fleet and all the other misguided Gultur on their own. The Gultur, according to the last report she'd seen, had destroyed the laboratories on Ost along with every sample they were able to find. The cure was gone, unless Pelia had hidden it well, or, and that twisted Hera's stomach, she'd never really discovered one.

Reaching down, she rubbed the crook of her elbow with the ghost pain of the needle going into her veins, pumping the serum. That had not been a cure, of course, only an experimental product administrated to counterbalance the effects of the parasite for a while. The way she'd felt then, the complete change in her mood as if bright light had flooded the world, had convinced her she was doing the right thing.

Yet Elei did not have the cure.

_Dammit all_. She scrubbed a hand down her face. The boy was rubbing off on her; she was becoming fond of him. Even during his bout of nearly fatal illness he'd shown guts. She would never forget walking into that dank, frigid basement only to find him pointing his gun at her as he lay there, semi-conscious. Hera's lips pulled in a smile.

You had to love such a heart-felt welcome.

Not that Kalaes did not have a certain charm as well. Hells, the boy was turning into a devastatingly handsome man with his wild hair and dark eyes — if you were attracted to men, of course. _And Maera..._ She closed her eyes for a moment. Though not Hera's type, she was pretty and spunky, and hated Hera with everything she had. _Fascinating combination._

These were the people the Gultur considered stupid and filthy and due for a mass extermination.

With a sigh, Hera pushed off the wall, weariness and frustration lending a drag to her steps. She shoved the door open. The offices were quiet and still. Faint noises behind the bathroom door told her she would not be alone for long. With a sigh, she sat at the first desk and tapped the activating command into the data processor.

An alert icon came up on the screen, flashing red.

Hera blinked, at first not understanding what she read: _'Red alert. Hera, Echo No Seven thousand and twenty one, has betrayed the Race. Contact the headquarters in Dakru City. Red alert.'_

_Gods_. Hera swallowed a gasp as she pushed away from the desk and staggered to her feet. The world tilted and she leaned over the desk, fighting nausea.

She'd been discovered.

As thousand possibilities raced through her head, another Gultur stepped into the room, tall and wiry with short dark hair. Her gaze flicked to the screen and her body tensed.

" _Hatha_." Her voice held hatred instead of respect. She reached behind her back for her longgun.

Hera was faster. She drew hers, clicking off the safety, and pointed, proud at how steady her hands were even though she shook inside. She squinted down the barrel, aiming between the woman's wide eyes.

"One word and I shoot," she said. The woman took a step toward the screen and Hera caressed the trigger. "Do I sound like I'm joking, _senet_?" _Sister indeed_. "Go back into the bathroom and close the door."

The Gultur obeyed, a muscle leaping in her locked jaw, her eyebrows knitting. She backed away until she reached the bathroom, then pushed the door open with her back and disappeared inside.

Hera took a deep breath and released it before she strode forward and jammed the bathroom door shut with a chair. That meant nothing, of course — the other woman could have a beeper with her to alert the others, but at least it bought Hera some precious time.

Sheathing her gun, she turned and with two strides bolted out of the door and raced down the hall to the exit. Someone shouted behind her and she ran faster. Outside, a few passers-by threw her curious looks as she raced down the street to her aircar.

She was a fugitive now, too. Repeated glances over her shoulder showed her a Gultur coming out of the headquarters, shouting something, longgun in one hand. _Nunet in the deep_. When she finally reached the aircar, her fingers trembled so much she almost dropped the key twice before she managed to insert it into the lock. Legs shaking, she climbed into the aircar and turned it on, shooting furtive glances into the rearview mirror at the woman now running toward her. _Damn_.

Hera took the aircar out of the street onto the main avenue and accelerated, weaving between old streetcars.

Who, or what had betrayed her? Had she made a mistake? Had she trusted the wrong person? She turned into another sidestreet as soon as she could, even though she noted no pursuit behind her yet.

No matter who was to blame, the most important thing was to decide what she would do now.

Easier said than done.

Chapter 19

"I think your memory's all jumbled," Maera muttered. "I told you, Elei, Pelia can't have shot you. You were in shock, got all confused."

Elei gave a half-hearted shrug. He couldn't argue with that, but the memory wouldn't fade or change. His head hurt.

"We should leave," Kalaes said.

"Not yet. The Fleet's still here. I can hear the _seleukids_. Turn off the torch." Elei sat with his back against the wall. Once remembered, Pelia's words rang in his mind. _'I'm sorry, Elei. So sorry, kid. Good luck.'_

They waited in darkness. Kalaes sat next to him, forehead resting on his knees. Maera was curled at the cave entrance, looking out.

"They must have leveled Akmon by now," Maera whispered.

"Yeah." Elei closed his eyes, listening. "The Fleet's moving away. They should be gone soon."

Why had Pelia said she was sorry? For shooting him? For leaving him? For dying? For not telling him the truth and so getting him into this trouble?

His headache intensified. Fire crawled down his spine, slithered along the back of his legs. _Pissing hells_.

Kalaes shifted. "What if they don't leave? Why wouldn't she tell them where she left us?"

Hera. _A Gultur_.

Elei rubbed his forehead. "She won't betray us." The sorrow in her dark eyes when she'd leaned over him, when she'd given him the key to the apartment, was lodged in his memory. "I even think she'll come back to help us."

"Sure, fe, and I'll be the king of Dakru." Kalaes stretched his long legs and popped his back. "Unless she's still deadly curious to know Pelia's famous last words. Maybe she's obsessed with that. She looks like the obsessive kind."

"She heard me say what Pelia's last words were."

"I bet she thinks there's more."

Did she? Elei wondered what Hera wanted. She'd been kind to them. Aloof and arrogant, yes, but also perceptive. She must have realized he didn't remember anything else.

Hera was suspicious of Maera.

He hesitated. "Maera, is it true you worked in a hospital in Artemisia?"

"Sure it is. For three years."

"She left right after Pelia did," Kalaes said. "She was always very determined to get what she wanted."

His torso flashed a pulsing red, which grew darker right over his heart. Elei frowned. Why now? What danger was there? He tried to ignore it and turned to Maera, but her face was blank. "And what was it you wanted?"

She chuckled softly. "To become rich. To escape Aerica."

"But you returned."

She shifted toward them and clasped her knees to her chest. "I did."

Her profile glowed white, but her chest was a deep yellow, her heartbeat red. The new parasite seemed as determined as cronion had been to identify every possible target. Though why it showed him Maera's vital centers now, as they sat in the calm and quiet, was anybody's guess. "Why did you?"

"These new Gultur policies make living in the black too hard. They want everyone registered, demand to see IDs and qualifications. I had to leave. Aerica is more relaxed, you come and go and nobody ever checks you."

"You've got no family there?"

"No."

"She has her father," Kalaes said.

A father? So why was she denying it?

She humphed and turned away. "He's not my father. Scum, that's what he is. I've got no family."

"Hey, come here, fe." Kalaes opened his arms for her. "What's with the interrogation, Elei? Leave her be."

She smiled, scooted over to him. He wrapped her in the nest of his arms, pulled her close. "You've got family. We're family, aren't we?"

She didn't answer him, but laid her head on his shoulder.

Elei supposed that was answer enough, and had to avert his eyes. He had that funny, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach again, and drawing his legs in, he hugged his knees.

_Stop it_ , he ordered himself. _So they've found each other, they're a family now. Period._

His stomach kept clenching and he ground his teeth against the painful, uncomfortable sensation. Adrenaline. That was it. It pumped through his body, making sweat roll down his forehead, his hands curl into tight fists, his heart pump faster and faster. Why? It couldn't be the sight of Kalaes and Maera sitting there. No, this had to be...

The distant buzzing finally registered, along with the supersonic booms of _seleukids_.

He scrambled to his feet and lurched to the mine entrance. Nothing was visible yet, no lights or flashes.

"Shit." He stood there, hunched over, panting. His knees wobbled. They'd been found. Again. This time leaving their hideout would be hell. In the night, on the mountain slopes, losing one's footing would be deadly. "Follow me."

"Elei?" Maera's voice lilted with curiosity. "What are you talking about?"

Couldn't they hear it? "They found us. We have to leave."

"You're shitting me." But Kalaes didn't sound angry, only frightened. "How would you know?"

"How did I know they'd torch your apartment? I'm telling you, I can hear them coming." Shit, they had no time. "Please trust me on this, Kalaes. Come on, let's go!"

He saw them fumble in the darkness, coming toward him, and he was already out on the small platform of the mine entrance. "I can see my way, okay? Just follow me." He grabbed Kalaes' hand and trusted him to hold Maera's.

"Where are we going?" Kalaes whispered.

"Just keep walking." Elei jogged down the mountain slope, pulling Kalaes along. In his enhanced vision, the slope glowed a faint green. Protrusions cast long shadows and the path glimmered bone white — a faint trail, old and crumbling. The subsonic hum of the engines in the distance grew louder. The Fleet. Gathering again. Coming for them.

He led the others as fast as he dared, concerned that Kalaes was limping and slowing them down. He tried not to look past the sheer cliff on their left, aware that the others couldn't even see it. They stumbled around a ridge and down a crevice. Pebbles and fine dust rolled down the slope, dislodged by their feet — fine crystals that would reflect any light beam. It was only a matter of time before they were spotted. If they had an aircar, they might make it out before the Fleet zoomed in on them.

_Please, Hera. Be here_. Even if it was just to find out what Pelia had said.

He shook his head. He was doing it again, placing his trust in the wrong person. Besides, how would she know they'd found them yet again?

How had she known every time that they'd been found?

Easy. She was a spy, working against the Gultur. She had access to their systems. Insider information.

She was a spy all right, but for the Gultur. Trying to gain his trust. Trying to find what Pelia had hidden and where.

He staggered, tried to focus back on the path. He slipped and almost fell. Maera managed to keep the three of them standing.

A bird flew overhead, white and bright against the night, hooting softly. An owl.

"This is mad," Maera whispered. "You'll get us killed, Elei, and for what? We should have stayed in the mine. I can't see anything. The _seleukids_ are gone."

But she was wrong. They zoomed closer with each breath and sent shivers over his skin, raising goosebumps.

"Hurry up!" A complex of standing stones stood further down, ghostly gray. If they reached it, if they lay low and hid in their shadow, perhaps the Fleet would move on.

Yeah, and Hera might grow a sense of humor.

Hope was a terrible thing. Racing off the path, he pulled on Kalaes' sweaty hand and glanced back to make sure Maera tagged along. They hurtled down, skidding and slipping. Maera tumbled and only Kalaes' death grip on her hand kept her from rolling off.

The rumble of the Fleet was deafening. Elei groaned, scrunching his eyes shut. "Can you hear them?"

Maera straightened, leaning on Kalaes' arm, and they started again their descent, sending clouds of dust and pebbles down the slope and up into the air. "I can hear something."

They wouldn't make it to the standing stones. _She'll come_ , he kept telling himself. _Hera will come_. But he wasn't sure he believed it anymore.

The hum of _seleukids_ rose in the air and their lights flashed against the dark sky as they approached. Maera whimpered.

"Pissing gods in the deep," Kalaes said, forcing the words between heaving breaths. "Shit."

The stones loomed, tall pillars of rock, like some forgotten temple. Flashes of red, green and blue lit up the landscape, and Elei's possessed eye throbbed and itched. He sprinted toward the stones, dragging the others with him.

"Faster!" His lungs burned and the healing wound in his side pulsed to his racing heartbeat.

A large, deeper shadow detached itself from the standing stones. Long and tall, it looked like an aircar. A scent of ripe fruit and flowers mingled with the acrid stench of _dakron_ fumes.

Elei staggered and slowed down, hardly daring to believe it. "She's here."

"What are you mumbling about, fe?"

He dragged them on. No light betrayed the aircar's presence. But he could see her light through the aircar windows, her body heat. It pulsed silver and gold.

"Elei, where—?"

The door of the aircar dropped open with a loud hiss as they approached.

"Come in," Hera called out dryly, fine brows knitted, mouth pressed in a thin line. "Hurry."

"Well, I'll be damned", Kalaes said in a hushed voice as he climbed in. "Elei was right."

Elei followed, pulling Maera behind him. "Don't sound so surprised. I've been right before."

But the main thing was that Hera had come back, or never left. _Thank all the gods and their powers._

Silent, they took their seats on the _nepheline_ benches. His heart still boomed and the sweat was cooling on his back as he sat next to Hera. In his aching eye, she was a phantasmagoria of colors, changing as she moved. She switched on the flight mode and took them out fast, dipping down to the plain, zigzagging between standing rocks. She seemed to follow no pattern, no route, but suddenly she stopped the aircraft in the shadow of a slope or grove and waited. Kalaes and Maera gripped their seats hard and looked at each other, shrugging.

"Why are you stopping?" Kalaes asked.

Elei heard the boom of the _seleukids_ in the distance. The Gultur parasite, Regina, seemed to allow Hera to hear the supersonic and subsonic sounds, just like his new parasite allowed him.

A niggling fear twisted Elei's insides. All these things he could now do - being able to hear the Fleet from afar, see the slopes, smell Hera from a distance — what would the flip side of these new abilities be? What would the new parasite demand of him?

The sound of the Fleet approached, then receded like a great wave on a beach.

"Any more questions?" Hera ground out. Nobody answered.

Elei rolled his eyes discreetly.

With fits and starts, Hera led them away from the mountain, toward small towns and villages. Factories littered the countryside and fungi fields phosphoresced, yellow and green, like great avenues cutting through the night.

The silence became stifling.

Kalaes spoke first. "Thank you, Hera."

"Are you nuts? What are you thanking her for?" Maera thumped her fist on the seat. "She left us stranded, almost got us killed."

"Be thankful I came for you again," Hera muttered.

"Why did you?" Kalaes asked.

It was the question of the day.

"Listen, you ungrateful bastards," Hera said in an uncharacteristically quiet, shaky voice. "Until now I had access to their system and put my life in danger to help you. This time, not only did they locate you, but they found out I was helping you. Sobek's tail, I do not know how! I have been flushed out. Now they're after me, too."

"Nice tale." Maera's voice was low and angry. "Expect us to believe that, do you?"

Hera's hands were white-knuckled on the controls. She said nothing, yet Elei believed her.

Not that it proved anything. "Where to now?"

"How about you give me some ideas for a change?" Hera muttered.

"You must know a hideout." Elei glanced outside. "You're from here, aren't you?"

She gave a low growl and flew even faster, so they had to hold on to their seats not to fall. They flew past a town resting on a low hill, square houses, some of their windows lit with a faint golden glow.

A white radiance blazed at the horizon, like a huge rising moon. The slopes of the mountains rising behind shone as if coated in polished steel, reflecting the light. Their peaks cut a serrated bright line against the dark sky.

"What's that?" Elei asked, even as he knew what he would hear.

"Those are the agaric forests and beyond them the Bone Tower." The light was mirrored in Hera's eyes and her voice was hushed. "That is the sacred citadel of the Gultur."

Chapter 20

As the aircar flew on, mile after mile, the forest of giant mushrooms loomed larger. They phosphoresced, ghostly stalks with stellar pileus caps. The Bone Tower blinked in the distance, all silver spires and turrets, rising on a plateau like a jagged, dangerous gemstone.

"So many reflections, like glass." As the aircar turned away from a hill crowned with a military camp, taking a side road, Elei thought he saw lakes and rivers around the citadel, reflecting the moonlight. "Or is it water?"

"Don't you know, fe?" Kalaes lifted his head. "There's their sacred fountainhead. Only Gultur may drink of that water. It flows with underground tubes to all their cities, garrisons and outposts."

_The fountainhead_. Poena's voice buzzed in Elei's ears. _Blood in the water._ "Why sacred?"

"Regina came from the water," Hera said. "The Writings of Sarpion tell us so and we know it's probable. On Torq, the island where we came from, a form of the parasite lives in one particular lake. Apparently it passed to us and lived inside us for long years, mutating and changing us, making us who we are today. What was first considered a curse became a goddess, Regina, who sustained and kept us strong. When the first Gultur arrived in Dakru, they brought Regina with them in golden jars, protected by the priestesses. They built the sacred citadel, with the temple as its crown, over the fountainhead. The priestesses keep Regina in deep vaults, making sure she never dies."

_The temple_. Elei shivered. _The sacred citadel_.

Hera cursed. "A Gultur convoy." She swerved and flew around a bare hillock with big square pillars like the ruins of a building, covered in yellow lichen. They waited for the convoy to pass. Their breaths sounded overly loud in Elei's ears.

Or was it just his own?

A fungi field stretched, white and brown, on the right side of the vehicle and beyond it an algae pond glittered green and blue, the layer of brine barely rising above the ground. Elei's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth with thirst. He needed to get out, reach the water, immerse himself in it. His back burned as if fire licked it, his arms and legs itched fiercely. Even though he knew drinking the slimy, salty water would make him sick, he swallowed convulsively and reached for the door handle.

As if reading his thoughts, Hera raised the aircar, sending him back into his seat. His back thumped on the backrest and he blinked, dazed.

"Everything all right?" Maera asked him. He nodded, stomach churning. He dug his fingers into his thighs to control his body. The urge to jump out, run back to the water was wrenching at his guts.

A beeping noise started.

"We have more serious problems than his strange moods." Hera flew toward a hamlet — a few houses scattered among fields, a few streets and storehouses. Barely avoiding a red K-fungi field, she landed the aircar behind an agaric grove.

"Really." Maera's voice was icy.

Elei pressed his face to the window, thankful for its coolness against his hot forehead. "Why are we stopping here?"

"We have to change vehicle or change its appearance. The Fleet is on our heels. Apart from that," her hand curled into a tight fist, "we have run out of fuel. The aircar runs on purified _dakron_ mixed with _silla_ and it's all out."

"So we refuel."

"Here? Are you joking? This is not a refueling station."

Maera cleared her throat. "And what—"

"Shut up!" Hera rose, hair undulating around her. The scent of sugar, ripe _fili_ fruit and _como_ flowers filled the air. She leaned over Elei and cupped his cheek. "Tell me," she commanded, though her voice was soft. "What did Pelia tell you the day of her death?"

He looked at her, entranced. She could have pulled out her gun and pointed at his head. It didn't seem to matter and he couldn't move even if he wanted. She gazed down on him with eyes so dark they swallowed the world. She was more beautiful than any thought of resistance. He wanted to grab her and—

"What the hells are you doing?" Kalaes's voice sounded distant.

"I told you," Elei whispered, breathless, staring into Hera's eyes. "Pelia said she was sorry. Wished me luck. Can't remember any more."

"How about before the day she died. About her research, tell me what she has said to you about it."

Elei couldn't think straight. There was a tug in his chest, in his head, his pulse was rising, his body trembling. Hera's scent filled him, stirred something in him. Silver light pulsed in her eyes, in her throat, where he knew the jugular must be. The urge to press his lips to hers was all-consuming. He shook his head, tried to dislodge the strange lassitude and the wisps of desire coiling in his body, to dredge up anything useful.

"Not much. Work on the vaccine for telmion was going fine. She was happy." Elei winced as he saw Pelia's face in his memory, knowing that her death would soon follow. "So happy."

"Telmion? Gods. She never did tell you, did she?" Hera suddenly collapsed back into her seat, releasing him. The spell broke. The three of them looked at each other, silent.

Elei became aware that Hera's shoulders shook. Was she laughing or crying? "Hera?"

"What?" Her voice gave no indication, bland, empty.

"What is it the Gultur are after? You know, don't you?"

"Yes, I do know!" Hera shouted, a furious shrill cry, and smashed her hand on the controls. "I know. Pelia was going to try it on me. I waited for months, years..."

It broke the spell binding Elei and he stirred. "She was going to experiment on you?"

"Oh sure, this makes sense," Maera muttered drily.

Hera ignored her. "I volunteered."

"Why?" Elei asked. "You don't have telmion. You have Regina."

"Regina is a form of telmion." Hera rubbed her eyes. "Pelia was looking for a cure for Regina. She agreed to test it on me."

"A cure for Regina?" Kalaes spat. "Whatever, fe."

"That's what the Gultur are after. The cure for Regina. That's what Pelia was trying to find." Hera jabbed a finger at Elei. "And that's what they'll kill you for."

Elei pressed himself back into the seat, heart thumping against his ribs. _A cure for Regina._ Was the woman completely nuts? "I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want. Pelia was sure it could work."

Pelia had been a down-to-earth person. She couldn't have hoped to bring down the Gultur, the goddesses of the seven islands. She just couldn't. Elei shook his head.

"This is madness, fe." Kalaes' wild hair hid his eyes. "Madness. A cure for Regina? Come on!"

"And why would you want to be cured?" Elei just couldn't get it. To be a Gultur was to inherit the world, to be in charge, to have everything one wished for and more, to have power and choices and freedom.

"Because..." She wiped her eyes angrily, turned her profile to them. Her cheek glimmered wet. "Because I do not agree with them. Because I do not believe in their racist, dictatorial cause. Because there are things happening that horrify me." Hera bit her lip. "I think they're turning insane. I will not be like them!"

Silence followed her words. Elei wondered if everyone was still too stunned to think straight, like he was.

"And it was you of all your kind who realized this?" Kalaes asked. For the first time since their flight from Aerica, he sounded calm. Way too calm.

Elei shivered.

She turned to Kalaes, searching his face. "I'm sure there are more of us who joined the resistance, but I'm not in touch with them."

Kalaes scowled and looked away, twin braids swinging.

"Regina is... willful." Hera stared at her hands. "It controls your actions. Makes you obey your line of elders. Pushes you to fight other lines." She swallowed hard. "It's there, inside of me, whispering softly in my mind. It makes me seek out others of my kind, because with them I feel right, I feel safe and good. It makes me seek the water, the coolness of it, the lush gardens of Bone Tower, the scent of other Gultur."

Seek the water...

Hera turned to Elei, as if she'd heard his thought. "Once I made up my mind to join the Undercurrent, I learned that there are drugs which lessen these thoughts, these needs, these feelings. I used them, I asked Pelia to send them to me and she did. They pulled a veil from my eyes, so that I could see and think for myself."

"But Regina's still in you," Maera said and it was almost a shout. "You weren't cured. You're still one of them!"

" _Can_ you be cured?" Kalaes asked and sounded genuinely curious.

Hera took a long-drawn breath, as if about to dive into a deep well. "I'm not sure any of us would survive a complete cure."

This time the silence pressed against Elei, suffocating. Night was falling, curling around him like a hand, crushing him. "You mean, you'll die if the parasite dies?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe so. Or maybe the effects will not be so immediate, but will kill us eventually."

"The reproductive system," Kalaes said in a quiet voice.

"What about it?" Elei glanced at Kalaes's serious face.

"It's controlled by Regina, fe."

He let that sink in. "Are you saying that without Regina, the Gultur will die out?"

"Yeah. Their bodies have mutated, incorporated Regina. But Regina may control more than just that, fe. It may even control vital systems, like the breathing reflex. Like Hera says, curing them could also kill them outright."

_Fascinating_. It made Elei curious to know how Kalaes knew all that.

"Some believe that even a vaccine is impossible," Hera said softly. "It's a curse. It has taken over our bodies."

"So?" Maera's voice was hostile. "Why is getting rid of the Gultur such a big loss? You've been controlling the Seven Islands for centuries, keeping the riches for yourselves, making our lives miserable. You want to kill off all the men, or are you telling me you don't know this? You're planning a gendercide."

Elei rubbed his forehead, images ricocheting in his mind — of the group of naked men led to the temple of the Gultur, of the two men getting shot down in the square.

"So are the rumors true?" Kalaes' dark eyes flicked from Maera to Hera.

Hera hung her head, the faint light from the agaric grove turning her forehead ghostly. "Yes and no. There are objections in the Council. Some have said that our body defenses are falling drastically as a result of the parthenogenesis. Even Regina cannot protect us forever against all the mutations of other parasites, no matter how often Regina also mutates. That we might need... a man's contribution." Her cheekbones pinked.

Kalaes' low snicker turned into a guffaw. "Really."

"Contribution?" Maera sneered. "Whatever..."

"Regina is always mutating," Hera said. "There's the hope that it will recognize the danger of parthenogenesis and reverse the reproduction-related mutations, so that we can reproduce sexually again. Therefore we cannot eliminate males."

"Glad to know we're so important to you." Kalaes snorted. "So everything depends on Regina."

Hera nodded. "The purpose of the cure was to somehow keep Regina in check, control it. There are fears among us that the parthenogenesis has gone on for so long now that more and more cases of mental illnesses occur. On the surface of our bodies everything looks all right, but below the skin, something is wrong. In our heads something is foul. And yet, we cannot rid ourselves of Regina, even less so we of the Echo royal line. We are Regina."

"You're a member of the Elite?" Elei just couldn't believe it. He pressed his hands on the _nepheline_ seat, his fingers digging into the material.

A childish voice from a dream buzzed in his head. _'Echoes wander there and one has found you.'_ _Hera. An Echo_. More things clicked into place — the black marks on her finger bones, the brand of the Regina parasite, and her strange accent. Pelia had told him about Echoes. They grew up inside the sacred citadel, speaking the language of their ancestors, learning the old songs and rituals, guardians of their race.

"How do you think I had access to all their codes and information?" Hera scowled. "Yes, I'm _hatha_ , an Echo princess. My being Elite served the resistance well."

Elei rubbed his temples. "You're saying you gave up on the Echo princess lines to become a subject for an untested cure?"

"Someone had to," her voice cracked and she lifted her chin, jaw clenching, "and I know of no other Gultur willing to do it."

Maera thumped the seat. "Why do you both sound as if you believe all she says? It's all a scheme to make you trust her." She opened the door and stormed out of the aircar, descending the ladder quickly.

"She hates me," Hera muttered, her tone flat.

Kalaes gave her a dirty look as he proceeded to follow Maera's example. "We all do."

_We do?_ Elei holstered his gun and waited for Hera, then followed her down. He wasn't sure how he felt about Hera, not yet.

"No, I don't think you understand." Maera was whispering so loudly Elei heard the words before his feet hit the ground. "An Echo princess would never give up her position to be a spy for the Undercurrent. Use your heads, for the gods' sake!" Maera's voice rose slightly. "Listen to me. We must take over this aircar and go. Leave her here. Go hide."

Hera opened her mouth to retort, but Kalaes pulled his gun and aimed at Hera's head.

"Maera has a point." Kalaes shrugged. "But without fuel we can't go far. Hera, you're coming with us."

Hera let out a low growl.

"Kal." Maera spluttered. "Are you mad?"

"We need to keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't betray us again."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Maera leaned back. "She'll be tracked, she has to have a transmitter on her. Probably even embedded in her skin. High-tech."

"Hells. Hadn't thought of that. But leaving her here's just as bad."

Hera produced her longgun seemingly out of nowhere and aimed it at Kalaes' head. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

Elei's heart boomed and colors flashed around him. Hera's yellow, Kalaes's red and orange — and the trajectories the bullets would follow crisscrossing space like silvery snail tracks.

He drew his Rasmus, pointed it at Hera's chest. "Stop."

"Drop your guns, damn you," Hera grated. "I would give my life to save your kind and you do not even give me the benefit of a doubt."

"Save our kind, or yours?" Elei asked.

"Drop your guns, or I shoot Kalaes." Hera's aim was steady. "I would like to save both our kinds, if possible. We are the same species, after all."

"Well, fe," Kalaes drawled in thick street accent, "after what your kind's done to mine, can't see why you'd expect any trust from me."

"Someone has to take the first step," Hera snapped.

Elei didn't move. "Then maybe you should. Who says it's us who must take the first step?"

"Never said it was." Hera lifted her chin in defiance. "I took the first step by helping you so far, and I have no transmitter, no matter what the little girl here says."

"You must report to the headquarters somehow."

"I use a glitcher. It does not mark my position."

"Yeah, right, whatever." Kalaes snorted. "Hand it over."

"Fine." Yet she didn't make any move. "No need for it now, is there, seeing as I'm a fugitive. Drop your gun and I'll hand it over."

Kalaes chewed on his lip. He glanced at Elei, who shrugged minutely, his heart thumping.

Kalaes lowered his gun. "Fine."

Elei kept his gun trained on her as she reached with one hand into her pocket, her gun still aiming at Kalaes. She took something out and threw it at Elei. He caught it, one-handed. If she thought she'd distract him, she was wrong.

He kept his gun trained on her, not daring to look down at the glitcher in case she shot Kalaes.

"You know I have to destroy it." Her link to her world. To her line. To the other Echoes.

"Do it."

"This is all crap," Maera said. "I don't buy it. With such technology, would they depend on a portable glitcher to communicate?"

Hera lowered her longgun and something inside Elei relaxed a fraction. "The latest mutations of Regina have rejected the biotransmitters. The Gultur labs are working on a different version now, using Regina strains to make them work."

"But your variant of Regina is weaker now, because of the drug, or so I understood." Maera rested one hand on her hip and flicked her brown curls from her eyes. "So perhaps you're carrying one and this is all just a full load of shit."

"I'm still a Gultur, and a _hatha_ — an Echo," Hera said softly. "Pure Gultur. I carry the principal mutations of my generation."

Maera shook her head. Kalaes held his gun pointed to the ground, his stance tense and unsure.

Elei lowered his gun, laid it on the ground and knelt next to it. He opened the glitcher and located the micro-grain. "Maera, give me your tweezers." He pinched the grain, dislodged it and shook it out into the palm of his hand. Then he crushed it with the tweezers until there was an uneven lump of metal. He threw it down and stomped on it for good measure.

"Now what?" Hera said.

Elei looked at the others. Kalaes shrugged. Maera looked pissed but said nothing.

"We can't stay in here forever." Elei gestured at the agaric grove. "We need to find fuel or another vehicle." The mass of the aircraft caught his eye. It loomed over them, a dark, brooding presence. "We need to hide the aircar too."

"I'll get the camo." Kalaes climbed inside and dragged the net out. They threw the camo over the craft and secured it with the hooks. At least from the air it shouldn't be visible.

_Now to the hard part_. Elei turned to Hera. "Give me your longgun."

"You're out of your mind." Hera spat.

They stood there, staring at each other. He supposed he would have answered exactly the same, had she asked him for his Rasmus. But could he trust her? She'd pointed the gun at Kalaes, and she could do it again. "Maybe you're lying. Maybe you do have a biotransmitter somewhere in your body, giving away our location."

"Or maybe I'm not the one who has been betraying your position." Her dark eyes flashed with annoyance. "And I do not lie."

"So you say." He held her stare, annoyance burning in his chest. "Funny how the whole Gultur race could call you out on that, though."

Her brows lifted in surprise, as if she hadn't seen it that way. She humphed and turned her face away.

"What if we tied her inside the grove and left her there?" Kalaes said. "A decoy. She'd give a false position as we move away."

"That's assuming we find another vehicle," Elei pointed out. "And that she really does carry a biotransmitter."

"You're not leaving me here." Her eyes glittered and her face paled. "You do not know what they'll do to me. They have no mercy."

Elei shivered and turned to the others. "What do you say?"

"There's a way to trace biotransmitters," Maera said. "Saw it once done in Artemisia."

"What way?" Kalaes raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Hera's gaze jumped from face to face and rested on Maera's last. "You also learned that at the hospital, little girl?"

Maera didn't rise to the bait. "You need to pass pure _dakron_ over the skin. It reacts with the transmitter's metatite crystals."

"That will burn like all the hells," Elei protested.

"A small burn."

"As if you care whether the burn is big or small." Hera sneered. "It will not be on your flesh, will it?"

It was a solution — find the transmitter, snuff it out, make sure their position wasn't known. Elei nodded. "We can try it."

"The hells." Hera folded her arms across her breasts. "I'm not doing this. Not unless you all go through with it."

"You're the one under suspicion here." Elei shrugged. "You're the Gultur." He glanced over his shoulder at the hamlet. The streets and houses were dark. No sounds came. "Let's go to the grove. Someone might hear us."

"I may be Gultur, but you have your share of parasites," Hera retorted as they walked toward the grove. "I'm no traitor because of the mutations I carry."

Elei had nothing to reply to that.

The agaric stalks shed white light into the night. He led the others underneath the huge milky caps. Kalaes and Maera huddled at the base of a huge mushroom. Their breaths rose in clouds into the air, mingling with fireflies and scintillating flying spores.

Hera slid down the trunk of another mushroom till she sat on the soft, moist ground. She stretched her long legs, crossed her ankles and sighed. Her face looked peaceful, but her eyes observed them with unnerving intensity, never leaving them.

Elei sat opposite her. His heart thumped none too gently, but the colors never changed. The parasite sensed no immediate danger. He unclenched his fingers around the gun and disassembled it, taking out the _dakron_ energy unit, unwrapping it from the isolating film of _surin_. He held it in his hand, a dark, shiny cube, practically unused. He wondered briefly how Maera knew this, why someone would perform such a procedure at a hospital.

"Here." Kalaes held out his hand, his eyes hard and flat like metal. "Hera, undress."

She snarled and drew out her longgun again, though she didn't take aim. "And if I refuse to put on a show for you?"

"Then we know for sure you lied, that you're carrying a biotransmitter, and we kill you." Kalaes grinned but his eyes narrowed and he laid his other hand on the handle of his gun. "What will it be, fe?"

Hera held his gaze for a moment and then dropped her head, dark hair sliding forward to hide her face. "I'm so tired of all this fighting. Of this running and getting nowhere." She looked up, her stony façade crumbling for the first time. Lines of pain etched her mouth and her eyes held the sheen of sorrow Elei had noticed in them once before. "Fine."

Elei's chest tightened.

She rose and unglued her belt, dropped it to the ground. She jerked when Maera reached out and took it, pulling out the longgun. Hera reached out for it, a jerky, instinctive movement, and opened her mouth as if to shout.

Kalaes tapped the handle of his gun warningly, and Hera said nothing. She pulled back. Her face became blank, wiped clean of all emotion. She kicked off her boots, unclipped her soft gray suit and shrugged it off. It pooled around her feet as if made of liquid. She stepped out of it to stand naked in the white glow of the agaric grove.

_Well, that's nice_ , was all Elei's stunned mind could supply. _Very, very nice. Gods_. For another race, she looked perfectly human. _Perfectly beautiful_.

Hera stared at some point beyond them, not meeting anyone's gaze, a nude sculpture, so still she didn't seem to be breathing. Most of the changes had taken place inside, as was Elei's case. Her skin was so smooth it glowed, the proportions were pleasing, the breasts were small, the belly flat, the shoulders strong. The legs were long and graceful, the arms sculpted, the neck arched, the face... Well, the face had pulled him from the beginning and it was elegant in its beauty. Her mouth was small but full, her cheekbones high, her eyes large.

There were differences, of course, not visible at first glance, but when Hera shifted her weight and placed a hand on one slim hip, glaring at them, tiny scales on her neck and on her breasts caught the light and shimmered. Another shift, and more of them glimmered on her thighs, pearly and iridescent, reminiscent of telmion's rough snakeskin, Regina's close relative, yet fine like jewels. They were strangely beautiful, and Elei drew a sharp breath.

Her scent of fruit and flowers hit him so hard he'd have staggered if he stood. He gasped, his free hand digging into the soft soil, his body tightening low. The need to touch her was so strong it verged on the point of pain.

Maera cleared her throat, snapping Elei out of his trance. "Just be quick."

Kalaes stepped toward Hera, his cheeks flushed. He passed the _dakron_ cube all over her, making her twitch a couple of times when he touched her ribs, her nipples, her ears, her eyes. He pressed it deep into her belly, against her thorax, in the small of her back, in her calves, in her thighs. Anywhere a transmitter might be hidden.

Elei tugged at the polo neck of his pullover, too warm. A burning flush climbed up his neck and his pants felt a size too small. "Nothing, huh?"

Kalaes nodded. "She doesn't seem to have a transmitter."

Hera leaned over and pulled on her suit with jerky motions. She clipped it closed and pulled on her boots. "My gun."

"Uh-huh, no way." Maera grinned. "This little girl's keeping it."

Hera scowled. "Was this just a ploy to get my gun?"

"No, it really is supposed to work. Basic chemical reaction." Kalaes passed the cube idly over the back of his hand. "Maera's right. Even though the transmitter's tiny, the metatite's signal is strong enough to react."

Hera sat down and folded her arms across her chest. "The little girl should give it back."

Maera stuck her tongue out at the Gultur woman and laid the gun by her side, way out of Hera's reach. "The difference between you and us," she grabbed the cube, passed it over Kalaes' thigh, pressing into the dark material of his pants, "is that we aren't traitors, huh, Kal?"

"Stop it." He tried to push her hand away, but she laughed and slid it down underneath his knee. He jumped a little. "It's cold. Maera..."

"If you're done playing like little children," Hera sniffed, "give me my gun back."

"Tsk." Kalaes grinned and tried to grab the cube from Maera's hand. He failed and she snickered. "Maybe without your big gun you'll finally have to learn to be polite, fe, like us simple mortals. See it as a good thing. A chance to learn to be nice."

Hera growled. "I have no need for sugary words. It's my gun, and I'll have it back."

"Well, fe, this is the difference between your military Gultur culture and the real world. Here, we negotiate. We barter. We don't demand things as if we have a right to everything."

The cube glided down his calf to his ankle and back up to his knee. It sparkled in the milky light. Elei couldn't take his eyes off it.

"The gun is mine. She's a thief."

"Yeah, well, you're a traitor, so..." Maera tapped the longgun by her side and started caressing Kalaes' other leg with the _dakron_ cube. Kalaes shivered as the cube traveled up his left thigh.

"Give me the gun, Maera." Hera pursed her lips. Her brows knitted. "Please."

"Hey, hear that?" Kalaes cocked his head. "Did she say please?"

Maera chuckled. "No way."

Hera smacked the ground, her lips pressed together in a firm line. "For Sobek's sake!"

Kalaes snorted. "Well, this isn't how it's supposed...ow! Dammit!"

Maera gave a small cry, scrambled back and let the glittering cube fall. It rolled to a stop at Elei's feet.

What the hells?

Kalaes' eyes had gone very wide. As Elei watched, all blood drained from his face.

"Kal?" Maera came closer.

Elei jumped to his feet and took two steps toward them. _Shit._ He swallowed hard and wished for a moment he was blind. Wished he couldn't see the burn.

The _dakron_ had burned through the cloth of Kalaes' pants, leaving a black mark inside. That had to hurt. Elei winced.

Kalaes looked at them, mouth open. "No. I... No!"

Maera's cheeks already shone with tears. "Kal?"

"Mae," his voice broke, "you can't believe this of me."

"So it was you." Hera stood, hands on hips. "I knew there had to be a mole. After all, someone had to have told the others I betrayed them, and it was too big a coincidence that it happened when I started helping you. All along, it was you!"

Kalaes' face grew paler.

_Again I misjudged_ , Elei thought bitterly. _The one person I was starting to feel as close to as a brother. The one I thought I could really trust. He's the one who betrayed us all._

Maera pointed the longgun at Kalaes. "Drop your gun, Kal." Her voice trembled.

And he never thought Maera would be so strong. She'd known Kalaes for so long. _Hells_. He'd destroyed them both.

"Please, Maera..." Kalaes stared into her face, jaw clenched so that his voice came strained. "Believe me."

"You got a biotransmitter in your body, for the gods' sakes, Kal!" She sounded hysterical. She sounded like Elei felt. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Kalaes turned his face away. "Damn you all."

"What now?" Elei asked, unable to think. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe.

"Take his gun," Maera said.

Elei did, passed it in his belt next to his own holstered gun. "And?"

"Kill the transmitter." Hera took a tiny knife from her belt. Elei wondered what other weapons she hid on her body.

Kalaes' eyes looked glazed. He didn't move when Hera sliced through his pants and cut out a square patch, revealing the pale flesh underneath. He didn't make any sound when the blade jabbed into his thigh, though Elei scrambled toward them with a gasp, certain she'd hurt him. She must have. _Shit_.

Hera pulled out the blade. She'd cut him deep. Blood spurted from the wound. The transmitter hung on the point of the blade, a bead dripping crimson.

Elei swallowed hard, nauseous.

"They're easy to insert," she muttered. "Gultur transmitter, fine and long as a needle. Once in, it bunches up and starts transmitting."

She jerked the blade, throwing the gray blob to the ground, and then stepped on it, squishing it.

All Elei could hear was Kalaes' harsh breathing. _Shock. He's in shock_ , Elei thought. He squatted next to the older boy and pressed his hand on the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Press here," he told him, and when nothing happened, he took Kalaes' limp hand and pressed down on the bloody cut. Once he was sure Kalaes kept some pressure there, he tore the rest of Kalaes' pant leg and wrapped it tightly in a makeshift bandage around Kalaes' thigh.

Satisfied Kalaes wasn't bleeding to death, he took the _dakron_ cube and wrapped it back in the _surin_ film. He put it back into his gun and shut it, but didn't lift it. He sat with his head down. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kalaes' lips tremble momentarily, then press together tight.

"Why didn't you just hand me over to the Gultur?" he whispered.

Kalaes said nothing, didn't look up.

"To find out about the shipment," Hera snapped. "The cure."

"If he had the transmitter all along," Elei turned to Hera, searching her face for any emotion, "why would it take so long for the Fleet to find us every time?"

"Magnetite deposits in the plain," Hera said, gaze flat and empty. "They have a natural scattering effect on the signal. They interfere."

Maera lowered the longgun. She held it one-handedly at her side. Her eyes glittered with new tears. "Why, Kal? How could you do this?"

Kalaes still said nothing.

It made no sense. If Kalaes collaborated with the Gultur, why would he give himself away?

It wasn't helping that Kalaes was silent. His face was deathly white.

"Was it money?" Hera stood before him. "Was it a position in the spy hierarchy?"

Maera wiped her eyes and sat down. "Did you have Elei followed since he left Ost? Were you in contact with the Ost team?"

"Maera, you knew him for so long." Elei tried to understand. "Could we be wrong?"

"Gods, Elei." She pressed the heel of one small hand against her brow, grimacing. "I hope so, but what about the transmitter in his leg?" She sighed. "I only came back to Aerica two months ago. I thought I knew him. I still can't believe it."

_But you slept with him_ , Elei accused her in his mind, and bit his lip because that was none of his business. He told himself to get rid of this pettiness and jealousy. Especially now. Maera had to feel so betrayed. Hells, _he_ did and he barely knew Kalaes.

"What else did you tell them, Kalaes?" Hera asked.

"Say something," Elei whispered and squeezed Kalaes' shoulder. "Come on, speak. We need to know. Do you have a contact in Dakru City?"

Kalaes turned to him, eyes wide. "No. No, I don't. I didn't do it."

Elei's breath came out in a whistle. "Maybe he didn't—"

"Damn lies!" Hera hissed. "You betrayed us all."

"I wouldn't." Kalaes' voice shook. "I'm with the Undercurrent too."

"What?" Elei's head buzzed. He shifted to look at Kalaes better. His face was blank, but his eyes blazed.

Maera's eyes widened.

"If you were, I would know!" Hera's hands fisted. "I answer directly to the Undercurrent Council. What is the codeword?"

"Question," Kalaes whispered.

Hera folded her arms across her chest. "Wrong answer. You're out of the game."

"I said, if you want the right codeword," Kalaes said, "you'd better give me the right question."

Hera frowned, glanced at Elei and Maera and hesitated. With a shrug, she rose, went to Kalaes and knelt next to him. Gripping his two small braids, she drew his face closer to hers until their cheeks almost touched and whispered something in his ear. Then she turned her head to listen and his lips almost brushed her neck when he answered.

Elei bent his head. In his enhanced hearing, their hushed voices rang loud and clear, although a sideways glance at Maera's stormy face revealed she could hear nothing. Hera had asked where Kalaes went for drinks at night, of all strange things to ask, and he replied he frequented a bar in Artemisia recommended by his cousin Dione. _Coded language for sure._

He looked up when Hera gasped softly. Rising, she turned and went to lean against a stalk, folding her arms over her breasts. "Interesting game you play."

_All right_. Elei rubbed the bridge of his nose. _It looks like Kalaes knows the codeword. But where does that leave us?_

Maera watched Hera with bright eyes. "Did he give the codeword? Does that mean he's innocent?"

"Innocent?" Hera spat on the ground and wiped her mouth. "Senet, he had a Gultur biotransmitter in his damned thigh! He was signaling your position ever since you left Aerica, bright as a beacon at sea."

Blood seeped from the bandage, between Kalaes' fingers, and his breathing sounded fast and erratic. Elei scooted closer, leaned over and pressed Kalaes' hand harder on the small wound. "Keep the pressure."

Kalaes gave no indication he'd heard him.

"What do we do now?" Maera asked.

Elei's head ached, a hammer pounding behind his eyes. Dawn was not far off. He looked around at the others' haggard faces and made a decision. "We'll rest for an hour or two before we move on."

He expected Maera or Hera to protest, but they didn't. They looked exhausted.

"I'll keep watch." Maera got up, the longgun held loosely in her hand.

Kalaes stared at her back for some time, fear and desperation lighting his gaze. When he lowered his face, there was no emotion to be seen there anymore.

"It's okay, I'll do it. You sleep." Elei nodded at her. "I need to think."

"But Kalaes—"

"We should tie him." Hera frowned. "If not, he can run away or take us out if you nod off."

Elei raised his hand to stop her. "How will you tie him?"

She produced a small roll of duct tape from her suit.

"Give it here." He didn't trust her not to be brutal. He took the tape in shaky hands, mind rolling like a loose pebble, and proceeded to tie Kalaes' hands and feet. There was something very wrong in seeing Kalaes at the point of a gun, getting tied up like some animal going to slaughter. It was wrong to see that blankness on his normally expressive face.

But he'd had the biotransmitter. No matter what he said, he had to have a contact to the Gultur police HQ.

There was no way to verify his betrayal. That thought alone told Elei clearly that he didn't believe it. Deep inside, his instinct told him that Kalaes couldn't have done it, because he wasn't that kind of person.

And that instinct had been proven wrong a number of times already.

He watched Maera and Hera, their forms curled under the agaric stalks, pretending to ignore each other. Kalaes lay on his side, his tied hands resting next to his face. He didn't stir, but Elei could see the glint of his open eyes in the milky light.

Trust the facts. Nothing else. The facts.

But there were always the dreams of Poena, and the unanswered questions, his flight from Ost and the cure everyone was searching for. With his fingertips he felt his side, the now healing wound, and tried to convince himself the bullet had been taken out, that it hadn't fallen somewhere inside his body, slowly killing him. He thought of Pelia and welcomed the bittersweet pain. He thought of every little bit of information she'd given him about the labs and the drugs produced there. Had she ever mentioned an antidote for Regina? Had she given him any clue that he had ignored?

He pulled his hood back and looked up at the glowing roof of the giant mushroom he was under. He wondered if the gods in the deep ever imagined how much their children would change. He wondered if the gods knew or even cared.

Maybe their lack of interest was what made them gods, he thought bitterly, and his worry and fear what made him human.

Chapter 21

Elei scratched at his arms for the thousandth time, hissing at the sting, and licked cracked lips. _Water_ , his mind chanted. _Find water_.

Light dribbled between the agaric stalks, filtering through their semi-transparent caps, casting a filigree of silver on the ground. It was time to wake everyone up. Nobody had approached their camp, but as day broke someone might.

Beside him, curled on his side, tied hands thrown before his frowning face, slept Kalaes. There were black tracks on his cheeks. He'd wept at some point and his tears had turned to mud against the ground.

Elei's chest constricted.

Some steps away, Hera slept on her back, arms at her sides, still as if carved of rock. He remembered her standing there, dressed only in her luminous skin, radiating anger and pride, and swallowed hard with a flare of lust.

A Gultur, not to be trusted, that's whom he desired. That's how messed up he was.

Where was Maera?

He stood up, rubbing his gritty eyes. Maera sat a little further, longgun in her lap, fast asleep. There was something in her relaxed posture that made him want to smile.

Which was entirely out of place on such a morning. In such a year. After all that had happened.

Pelia...

The skin of his legs and arms burned. He rubbed and rubbed, and wished he could just take his skin off, slip if off like a shirt he no longer needed. He wished he could erase these past few days and start again.

Hera rolled on her side and blinked. "So you stayed up after all." Elei wasn't sure if she sounded dubious or pleasantly surprised. He just stared at her, refusing to answer.

She gave a quick look around, rose in one fluid movement, dusted her gray suit and walked over to Elei. Her hands twitched on her belt, probably seeking her longgun, and furrows formed on her brow. She passed Elei, stood over Kalaes and with her boot pushed him over on his back. Kalaes groaned and then rolled again on his side, hiding his face.

"We must look for cover," she said. "In the daylight we are exposed even here, and the aircar will be found at some point, camo or no camo. Maybe we can find some fuel, you never know. Or a vehicle to rent, with codes that might allow us to travel. In all honesty, in a place like this one, it's improbable." She shrugged. "Then again, in life, all is a matter of luck."

On that they agreed.

"If we find a vehicle we can use on the road, where would we go from here?"

She gave a grim smile. "Far. With this mad chase, the Gultur will heighten security measures and roadblocks. Unless we find a legitimate transport vehicle, we're stuck here. And doomed."

"Right." She had a point.

"What about him?" She prodded Kalaes with her shoe. "Should we leave him here?"

"You can't." Maera approached, turning pleading eyes on Elei. "Don't leave him to the Gultur. You heard what Hera said about them. They've got no mercy."

Kalaes' head jerked up at her words. He watched her, his dark gaze unreadable.

"He comes with us." Elei took a deep breath. "You said it yourself, we have to keep an eye on him, and maybe we could trade him if they corner us." Although his chest ached at the thought, he had to accept Kalaes had betrayed them. "Come on, let's move."

It was weird, this change of roles. There he was, helping Kalaes up, cutting off the tape that bound his ankles, while Maera pointed the longgun, tracking Kalaes' every movement, her lips trembling. _Unreal_.

Hera shoved Kalaes forward and he stumbled, barely catching himself.

Hot anger tinted the world a faint red. Elei strode to place himself between them and raised his hands. "Hey, cut it out. Don't hurt him."

"He's a traitor!"

A growl rose in Elei's throat. "We still don't know on whose side you are, so don't go thinking you're off the hook. Is that clear?"

She kicked a loose stone, sent it thumping against an agaric stalk, and said nothing more.

"Let's go then," Maera said quietly.

Hera led their small group, striding ahead. Elei took Kalaes' side as they walked toward the hamlet. Maera followed behind, covering their backs.

"Hey, how are you doing?" He nudged Kalaes.

It was also odd how he was the one who did most of the talking now. Kalaes just staggered on beside him, staring at some vague point, hardly blinking.

"Here, give me your hands."

As they walked, Elei unwound the tape. He winced. The wrists were red and cut, bleeding sluggishly. He threw the tape away, disgusted.

"Do you believe me, Elei?" Kalaes asked, his voice low and a little hoarse.

Elei turned, surprised. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets. "I don't know. Maybe."

He thought he saw a flicker of hope in Kalaes' eyes. But then Kalaes looked away and he couldn't be sure.

They walked into the hamlet just as farmers left for their fungi fields and blue algae ponds of brine. A baker was punching a roll of dough on a bench outside his house, and a woman was sweeping her doorstep. A cat strolled by, sniffing the air. Birds rose in flocks, chirping.

Hera stopped at a tall fence at the end of the main street, peeked over it and then went on walking. Nothing there.

"There has to be _dakron_ somewhere," Maera said from behind. "Can't be that no-one has any."

He glanced back. She looked grim and sad, the longgun hanging in her belt, her curls flattened and dull.

"We'll find something," he said, mostly to convince himself. Ahead, Hera was asking more people and receiving headshakes and shrugs. Just their luck.

_Hera. Kalaes_. Elei wished he knew who to trust, what to do next. He could see things, or at least the surface, scratch the skin, but not catch the real meaning.

Someone was shouting. He blinked.

Hera held a bearded man by the scruff of his neck.

"Hey, leave him alone!"

Hera paid Elei no heed. She dragged the unfortunate man toward them with ease. Elei snorted. It looked like the muscles in her slim arms weren't just decoration. "No fuel for an aircar in the village. But we're in luck. He has a transport aircar that's still in use."

_Great, so kill him now, why don't you, for owning the thing we need_. Elei shook his head. "Great news. But I haven't got any money to pay him."

Hera took out a handful of bills from a pocket. "Here." She thrust them into the man's hands.

He sputtered, his scraggly beard trembling. "This is barely enough to buy the _dakron_ for it!"

"You'll take it and you'll provide the road codes and the _dakron_ for it at no further cost," Hera said in a tone that brooked no argument, each word punctuated by a shake. The man fought to get free of her grip. She let go of him and he stumbled sideways, falling against a stack of dusty boxes.

"That's thievery!" he whined.

"No, it's a discount." Hera's eyes narrowed. "You keep your miserable life as a bonus."

Oh, they had just crossed the line to death threats. _Just pissing great_. "Hera, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes." She stepped closer to Elei, pitched her voice low. "Taking the car instead of fuel is much better. They know by now the numbers of the one we have been using and will block it at any checkpoint. This one's codes should make it through."

Yeah, let's think positive.

Hera turned back to the man and gave a dangerous grin. "Well?"

The man cowered. He unhooked the keys and the code tags from his belt, and offered them to Hera with a shaking hand.

She grabbed them and shoved the man off. She turned to the others, who were openly gaping at her. "Have I missed something? I thought we were in a hurry. And why is Kalaes untied?"

"I'm keeping an eye on him, no worries." Elei kept his voice firm, and she just raised her chin and looked away.

The aircar was kept in a storehouse off the road. The building had a run-down feel about it. Crows rose in a black cloud from the rafters with loud cries when the man, whose expression grew sourer by the minute, threw the doors open with a thud.

Inside, half-darkness swallowed space. Faint light slipped in silver shafts from the roof where planks hung, dangling over their heads. Holes littered the walls where the _nepheline_ had rotted. The smell of mold tickled Elei's nostrils.

The man strode to the back and pulled off the cover sheet. The aircar was an old design but had no visible problems. The man went to a corner, took out _dakron_ ingots and pushed them into the aircar's tanking port.

"Two more," Hera ordered, and he obeyed, glaring.

_And that's with her unarmed_ , Elei thought, amused.

Then again Maera was there, a few steps back, hefting the longgun in a very determined way.

They climbed aboard. Elei tapped Hera's shoulder and motioned at her to let him drive. She tensed and scowled. He wasn't having any of it. He stared right back, until she pressed her lips together and moved out of the driver's seat, leaving it to him.

She hadn't objected or questioned him, and he tried not to wonder about her obedience. _Later_.

He took a deep breath, powered up the aircar and took them out. His hands moved smoothly over the buttons and levers, his mind glided through the sequences of take off and driving. The emergency lights went off, plunging them all into grayness. He flipped on the stabilizer and the aircar swerved into the village main street and out, into the plain highway.

They'd barely placed themselves between the mark lines of the highway when the monitor beeped, asking for identification numbers.

"Codes."

Hera passed him the tags without a word. He inserted them in the slots and waited, heart in his throat.

"What's going on?" Maera breathed.

Hera shushed her.

"Come on, work," Elei whispered. If the man had managed to report them so soon, bypassing the bureaucracy of the Gultur, if his vehicle had been stolen, if his codes had expired, if the Gultur decided to ground every single vehicle in Dakru...

The monitor jingled and the message 'Access accepted, have a good trip' appeared in flashing yellow letters.

Elei sighed and slumped back on his seat. "We're clear."

Maera muttered something, and Hera snorted.

Elei took deep breaths, willing the buzzing in his ears to fade. "Where to?"

Hera humphed. "If you would just let me drive—"

"No. Where?"

"I have told you, I have no more hideouts. I'm on the run, same as you."

"How did you know they found you out?"

They sped on the phosphorescent road, leading toward a processing plant. Fungi fields spread on either side, red and white and brown, and shallow blue ponds lay covered in patches of spongy algae.

"I'm an Echo. I have — I had — access to the inner system. I caught the alert as it was first announced. I cut all contact and came to find you."

"Whatever," Maera grumbled.

"Why didn't you come tell us, then? Why were you hiding on the slope before Akmon?" That had been bugging him. If he hadn't sensed her, if he hadn't believed she'd come, if he hadn't smelled her...

"In spite of your accusations and demands," her eyes flashed back to where Kalaes sat, "I was going to do so. But I was too late. I hoped you would come out and find me, if you were still alive. But, in truth, I thought you were dead already. I was surprised when you showed up. How did you escape? How did you know I was even there?"

Elei sighed. "I'm not sure." He wondered how much he was willing to share. "I heard them coming. And I hoped you'd be there."

"You heard them? Is that the new parasite's doing?"

Pressing his lips together, he flew on, focused on the controls, hoping his silence would be a hint that he didn't want to talk about it. Surprisingly, Hera seemed to understand and sat quiet, staring ahead.

They flew over uninhabited land, overgrown with agaric stems. There had to be plenty of _surin_ deposits. The giant mushrooms loved that soil. Nothing else could grow on it. In the light of day, the stalks looked dull and dirty, quite unlike their otherworldly night glow.

Wandering like that on the landscape, exposed like a fly on a dish, they made an easy target. He knew it, and he bet the others knew it too. They needed a plan, but what? His shoulder blades itched and the skin down his back burned, not letting him think clearly.

"We need to decide where to head." He avoided Hera's gaze, kept his eyes on the road. "We need to go..." _Where?_ _Water. The fountain_.

"We should double back to the coast, cross to another island," Maera said from the back seat. "They think we're heading north, we can—"

"Impossible," Hera snapped. "They're swarming all over the eastern coast, in Artemisia and Krisia and the other seaports."

"Then what?"

"We must press ahead, bypassing Dakru City," Hera gestured with one hand to the hills littered with _dakron_ mines ahead, "across the island to the northern coast, if we're to catch a boat and escape. The Undercurrent will contact us somehow by then—"

"The sacred citadel." Elei realized he'd spoken the words out loud when he heard them.

"What did you say?" Maera breathed.

"The Bone Tower." It sounded crazy even to his own ears. "We should go there."

Maera snorted. Kalaes said nothing.

Hera tsked. "It might work. They would never expect that. We could hang around the citadel in one of the towns catering to the temple."

"Yeah right." Maera dragged the muzzle of the longgun on Hera's shoulder. The Gultur woman shivered. "That place must be buzzing with Gultur police."

"Yes, but they'll not be counting on us going there. It's the last place they'll expect us to choose." Hera smiled; Elei saw the glint of her white teeth in the dirty glass of the windshield. "I like it. Not bad, boy."

Elei nodded, accepting the half-compliment. The Bone Tower beckoned in the distance, yellow and white as the name implied. He kept off the main road, took uneven sidetracks instead, rocking them and sliding into fields. He jerked the aircar around and managed to bring it back to the road. Having a goal eased his mind into a temporary, false lull. Whenever Poena's words rang in his head, he gripped the levels harder and looked around at Hera's serene, beautiful profile. It was like gazing at a calm sea.

The road stretched on through a monotonous landscape. He nodded off, coming back to his senses with a jerk when Hera placed a hand on his arm.

"Let me drive for a while," she said, but he shook his head. He drove on, grinding his teeth to keep awake.

"Checkpoint," Hera said, breaking the quiet.

_We're screwed_. His pulse soared. "Any way around it?"

"Not if we're heading toward the west. The electrified fence runs all the way to the mountains."

Well, wasn't that just great. "You drive us through, Hera."

"I cannot. I was one of them. They have my photo on their data rods."

Elei's tongue stuck to the roof of his parched mouth. "What about ours? Do they have it?"

"They have new photos of the two in the back. As for you, they have an old one, from the records of a monks' factory on Ost, a couple of years back." Her gaze slid sideways to him and lingered on his face. "You have grown a lot."

Why did his ears burn now? "Lie low," Elei said, gripping the levers so tight his knuckles ached. "I'll drive through."

"Are you nuts?" Maera harrumphed. "They'll recognize you immediately. How many people have eyes of two different colors?"

The checkpoint loomed ahead, a watchtower like the stalk of an agaric mushroom. His heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest. "The light is already low. They won't notice. Lie down, all of you."

In the back seat Maera and Kalaes fumbled with the camo cover, getting underneath it, and Hera, casting him one last worried look, crouched down next to her seat. Her eyes glimmered like a cat's in the half-dark.

Elei slowed to a stop as they approached the checkpoint. A Gultur, armed with a longgun, ambled to his window and tapped it with the barrel of the gun. With a shaking hand, he pressed the button to lower it.

A whiff of flowers entered and twisted Elei's gut in a knot. Similar to Hera's scent, yet different, it gripped him, squeezing his chest.

"Traveling alone?" The Gultur's visored face moved from right to left, her eyes behind the visor slits shifting as she scanned the vehicle's interior. A data rod flashed in her free hand. "Are you the owner of this craft?"

"Yes." His mind whirred with possible questions and answers. He faced straight, only showing her his unaffected eye. His stomach twisted and sweat rolled down his back.

"Transport of _dakron_ ," she raised the data rod, flicking the scroll wheel, "and food provision? I cannot see anything of the sort inside your vehicle."

"Going back to restock," he said, his throat dry as a bone. His possessed eye throbbed, lighting up the world outside the aircar with white fire. His breath came in short pants. He struggled to keep it quiet.

"I see." Then the Gultur stiffened and hunched over slightly. With a small gasp, she curled an arm around her middle. "Sobek's balls."

Hera's parasite had reacted that way, too.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, wondering how this development would affect their chances of survival.

"Fine," grunted the Gultur, belted the data rod and pulled back from the window. Sweat rolled down her throat, a shiny path. She drew up her weapon, rested the barrel against her shoulder and nodded at him. "Move along." She kept her hand on her stomach as if in pain.

Elei swallowed hard. _Hail Regina_. He pressed the accelerator button and flew at a low speed past the checkpoint, resisting the urge to slam his fist down on it and shoot out of there. He drove past a trash processing plant with a huge gray chimney that spewed black smoke into the sky, and then turned for the first time to look at Hera's curled up form.

"I think—" Shakes cascaded down his limbs. He tightened his hold on the levers. "It's safe now. You can come out." He drew in a breath and held it, releasing it when his voice steadied. "Which way should we go?"

Hera uncurled and raised herself to sit next to him. A quick glance showed him her tense shoulders, her white face. She seemed strung so high that something told him she might lash out if touched. "Hera. Which way."

Her nostrils flared. She pointed right.

And they say I'm the quiet one.

With muffled curses, the other two climbed out of the camo and stretched on the back seat. Maera patted Elei's shoulder. "Good work, Elei."

Kalaes' continued silence lay on Elei like a tombstone.

He flew on. As afternoon turned to evening and the lights of the road below jumped like jets of glowing water into the darkness, he slowed down.

"We should find a room for the night." He scanned the landscape. "Any towns this way?'

"Up there is Tisis, a market town." Hera's breath tickled his shoulder, too hot. She pointed at a cluster of lights in the distance. "It's big enough so that we can lose ourselves in the crowd."

He took the road leading west. Other aircars overtook them, newer, faster models. Elei's hands twitched on the levers, but this model didn't have the power to go much faster without the engine burning out. Silence crawled from the back seat and pressed, heavy, on his chest.

_A biotransmitter_ , he thought, _and a bullet, metal entering your body, turning you into something you weren't before, a new being_. Something nagged at Elei's mind. Something demanding attention. But thirst distracted him, made it hard to think. _A transmitter. A girl in a back alley, digging into his wound. A bullet._

Had he seen the metal in her hand? Had she really taken the bullet out?

The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled as a terrible idea hit him. He cleared his throat to dislodge the ball of fear. "Hera, can one feel a biotransmitter? If it's in your body, is it big enough to bother you?"

At first Hera didn't answer and he thought she hadn't heard. He was about to repeat the question when she spoke.

"You could feel the older models. They were uncomfortable. Not these last ones. The one Kalaes had looked like the latest type with which the Gultur have been experimenting. This model is small and goes in deep enough not to notice if you're not searching for it."

"And you said they're easy to insert."

"Very easy. They come already in the shape of needles. Insert them and they do the rest. Just a tiny prickle, you hardly feel anything."

The road stretched ahead, silver, and Elei thought he saw lakes, gentle waves of clear water. His eyes blurred. Water, cool, fresh water.

Five Hells, what was wrong with him? He blinked and wiped his eyes. He had to concentrate on the road. They passed more agaric groves, and outpost stations rising from the flat expanse like white fish surfacing from water, delicate and gleaming.

"There." The seat squeaked as Hera shifted. "Tisis."

Lights in the distance, squat buildings. Elei took the abrupt turn into the town. Small and dirty like Ponds and Aerica, Tisis looked kind of sad in the midday light. Elei turned into the main street and hovered there, undecided. At least the aircar wouldn't look out of place here, one could hide it in plain sight among the other vehicles. He turned into a side street and then another, checking out the shop fronts for any sign of a place to stay.

"Look," Maera said. "Rooms for rent."

With an inward sigh of relief, Elei brought the aircar to a halt.

"You go, Maera." They couldn't trust Kalaes or Hera to do it. He swallowed hard. _Damn right._

Maera had barely jumped out when Hera rose from her seat, jaw set, nostrils flaring. "She's not to go in alone. I do not trust her. I'll go with her."

Before Elei could reply, she jumped out to follow the other woman. _Yeah, pissing perfect._

Kalaes' silence was unnerving. He hadn't spoken a word the whole way. Elei turned around and found him staring in his direction, expressionless, mouth a straight line.

Elei looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, where the tel-marks began. How could gut feeling prove so wrong? Why did it insist to trust Kalaes despite all evidence?

Maera's knock on the windowpane jolted him. "We got a room. Come on!"

He powered down the aircar and stepped out onto the deck. Kalaes came out, his face a mask. Behind him, Maera held the longgun pressed to the small of his back. They went down the ladder, entered the old house. A young girl stood there, hands twisting, eyes very wide.

"The key," Maera said, and the girl held it out to her.

"First floor, door number two. You must pay..."

They ignored the girl and left her standing there, her lips quivering.

The stairs creaked ominously. Black stains of mold decorated door number two. Maera turned the key and they entered a large room, lit by a small _dakron_ lamp and a huge window. Four narrow beds stood there, a scratched _nepheline_ table and two chairs. Maera claimed a bed at the far side and sat with the longgun in her lap, while Kalaes stood by the table, still.

Elei crossed to the window, looked out at the traffic, then moved away, feeling exposed. He spotted a sink at the opposite wall and he checked the faucet, determined to drink even that unfiltered water.

It was dry.

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist into the wall, then leaned against it, pressing his forehead on its cool surface. _Shit_.

"Elei," Hera said. She was staring right at him with an odd look in her eyes.

"What?"

She cocked her head. "We need water and food. You're all exhausted. Let me go and get it."

"No," Maera and Elei said at the same time. "I'll go."

They looked at each other, frowning.

"Let's ask the girl downstairs," Elei finally said. "To avoid being seen."

Maera shrugged. "Okay. I'll go tell her."

"I'll come with you," Hera said, steel in her voice.

"I don't need a babysitter," Maera walked to the door, "especially not you. Hear that, Gultur spy?"

"We established I carry no transmitter." Hera strode after her and caught the open door before it closed. "And I'm not letting you go alone."

The door clicked shut and their arguing voices diminished, then faded. Elei sighed and butted his head lightly against the wall. "Have fun."

He pushed off the wall and sat on one of the beds, hunching into himself, head bowed. He was numb with weariness and uncomfortable. His neck itched, his back still burned and he had a nagging doubt he couldn't shake — that he was missing some important clue. The burning sensation gnawed at his concentration, nibble by nibble. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

Two sets of quick steps approached. Hera opened the door, face a thunderstorm, followed by Maera who wore a smug smile.

Elei frowned. "What in the hells happened?"

"She left me with the receptionist to arrange the payment and went to tell the girl herself." Hera scowled. "She tricked me."

Maera snorted.

Elei pressed the pads of his thumbs against his temples. Truth be told, he was surprised and relieved they hadn't torn each other's throats out. Kalaes sat on the bed across from his, arms clasped around his knees, head bowed.

Elei's hands moved, restless, on the bed cover and his heart was heavy. If nobody was as they seemed, then he could trust nobody, nobody at all. Not even Pelia.

_Yeah, what if..._ He splayed his fingers on the yellowish sheets. What if Pelia couldn't be trusted either?

What if she hadn't shot a bullet into him but something else?

He had to make sure. Fighting the tremor in his hands, he took his gun and picked out the _dakron_ cube. He unwrapped it from its _surin_ film and placed it on the mattress.

"What are you doing?" Hera who stood leaning against the wall lifted her chin.

Maera went to sit in one of the chairs. She caught the tension in the room and looked up. "Something wrong?"

Elei supposed that yes, many things were wrong. He almost growled at her. "I think I'm carrying a biotransmitter, too." He said it with much more calm than he felt, and was quite proud of himself for not letting the hysteria show.

The hush that fell was short-lived.

"You?" Hera stalked across the room to him, the color draining from her face. Her fine brows drew together in a dark scowl. "Whatever makes you say that?"

He resisted the urge to scratch his arms. "I was shot, remember?"

"Shot, Elei. A bullet is not the same as a biotransmitter."

"There was no bullet."

Kalaes made a small snorting sound.

Maera stood up, eyes narrowed. "You dug it out, didn't you?"

Elei shook his head. "I never dug it out. It just wasn't there."

"And you think it could be..." Hera shook her head. "But I told you how biotransmitters are. You would not need a gun for them, nor would they leave you with a wound."

"What about the older types?"

Hera started pacing, hands held behind her back. "Yes, well, the older kinds were bigger, true, and needed some force to be embedded if no surgeon was present. A gun could have been used."

"Elei, you're making no sense!" Maera threw up her hands. "You got hit by a stray bullet. How can that be a transmitter?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure about that. I told you. Pelia shot me. My memory is real."

Maera snorted. "Yeah, right."

Hera halted. "But even if she did inject it in you, why would she use an older type? Why should she put a transmitter in you at all?"

Elei shrugged. Had he said it made any sense? Because it didn't. "Maybe she worked for the Gultur after all, not the resistance. Maybe the Undercurrent was just a cover. And as for the transmitter... Well maybe she had nothing else at hand to inject it with."

"Oh come on!" Maera tapped her fingers on the table.

"Nevertheless, we must make sure," Hera said matter-of-factly, face expressionless, and Elei hadn't expected anything less from her.

Kalaes lifted his head, a strange expression in his gaze, curious and confused.

Elei stood up and paused, suddenly unsure of the whole thing, including undressing in front of everyone. Snakeskin sure wasn't pretty. _Kalaes has seen it_ , a small voice in his head said. Hells, yeah, he had. But Kalaes was a guy. It didn't make undressing with two pretty girls gaping at him any easier.

He shrugged and took off his jacket, then the polo neck sweater and the t-shirt. He dropped them on the mattress.

Strangely, it was Kalaes who gasped.

Elei stiffened and stayed still.

Kalaes stood from the bed and walked over to him, then stopped just shy of touching. "They've changed."

Elei was about to ask what Kalaes was on about, when he realized what those words meant. He twisted his shoulder to look behind, dreading what he'd find.

_Indeed. Changed_. The scales had turned a light blue. Like his eye. His knees decided not to hold him anymore and he sat down heavily on the bed.

"What is it?" Hera growled. "What are you talking about?"

But Kalaes stepped back and sat on his bed, mouth a hard line.

"The snakeskin," Elei grated. "It's a different color now."

Hera leaned and looked over his shoulder. "I see. Pale blue. And these?"

"Huh?"

She grabbed his shoulders and turned him sideways. "Here," she tapped along his spine, where he couldn't see. "Black spots, like the ones around your neck."

"Whatever this parasite is, it's fighting telmion very hard," Hera said in a quiet voice. "I know of no parasite capable of such a feat, not even cronion, let alone a poor relative."

He shook his head. _Right_. And the point was? "But we don't know what it is. So let's get on with this. If I've got a transmitter inside my body, we have to remove it."

She took the _dakron_ cube, face blank. "Where?"

He turned to face her, presenting her his healing wound. She squinted at it, shrugged and passed the _dakron_ over it. Nothing. They stared at each other.

"Just pass me the _dakron_ cube," he said gruffly, fear crushing his chest. He caught the cube from her fingers and passed it all over his chest, pressing it deep into his abdomen and his sides. Then he just sat there, holding it on the palm of his hand, shivering.

"No transmitter. Good." Hera smiled, a glint of her teeth barely showing through her lips. "Things were getting too complicated."

"Good," he forced his mouth to say.

"You said you did not remove the bullet?"

"That's right, I didn't."

"But someone else did?"

He wondered at the intensity in Hera's eyes, in her voice. Her thoughts had probably followed a similar path to his, examining the possibility that the bullet was still inside him somewhere. He shuddered. "There was a girl in an alley, just when I arrived in Dakru." He remembered fingers digging into his side and a smile of black teeth. "She tried to get the bullet out. Maybe she did."

"She must have. The street gangs always try to get bullets," Hera said.

Elei pulled his t-shirt and sweater back on, wincing as they rubbed on skin that felt raw and tender, and wondered once again if he'd seen the girl take the bullet away with her or not. "We should be able to rest today. No transmitters. Perhaps we'll have some peace."

Hera snorted softly and lay down on one of the beds, lacing her hands under her head. "It sounds too good to be true."

Maera threw herself on the other bed, making the springs creak.

"And you?" Elei turned to Kalaes.

"Leave me alone, fe," Kalaes said coldly and didn't look up.

"Are you all right?"

"Just shut the hell up."

Elei cringed. He was a fool to expect the easy camaraderie they'd had before. He'd made Kalaes lose his house, his job, his girlfriend, now his cover and maybe soon enough his life.

But Kalaes was a traitor.

Wasn't he?

Elei's head pounded and his skin crawled and burned. Whatever parasite this was, it was driving him crazy. Elei groaned and lay on his belly on the bed, resting his head on his folded arms. He observed under lowered lids as Kalaes shifted on his bed and checked the bandage over the small wound in his thigh where Hera had removed the transmitter.

It made no sense. Why had Kalaes revealed the use of the transmitter? He had no reason to. He'd let Maera play with the _dakron_ cube unconcerned. What was this game about?

He was half-asleep and images of Ost flashed before his eyes — the trashlands and Albi's wrinkled face, the piles of electronic garbage leaking toxic liquids and deformed animals prowling the vast expanses. He saw his first gun, made of discarded parts, and heard the howl of his first kill, a rabid dog. There was blood. Always the blood. Albi's death. More blood. Gore. Pain. It was never a kind death in the maw of a dog. And he'd shot it too late.

Always too late. He never saw things in time. They caught up with him later, when he huddled in fear and anguish; they came in waves, taunting him, showing him what could have been if he'd been quicker, cleverer, more prepared. If he'd been ready.

The air turned to water and he floated in it, suspended. He gasped, fighting for breath.

He heard a girl's silvery laughter and looked up, able to breathe again. "Poena."

She approached him, wreathed in red flames, walking on the water. She smiled. "Elei. You will find that the king is awake and doing war. You will find the armies are spreading." She came closer, her eyes, a metal gray, looking right into his mind, hurting him, thrusting deep like knives. "What is it? Swamped by guilt again?" Flames jumped, twisted around him like tongues, wrapping him in pain. He writhed. "Time is in short supply. The king is here." What was that obsession with the damn king? "Get into the water, Elei!" She pushed his face down until earth filled his mouth and he couldn't breathe. "You must die!"

Chapter 22

In Hera's dream, the seven islands rose from the ocean deep with a noise like thunder. They broke the blue surface, water rolling off their summits, and soared toward the gray sky. The water surged in huge waves that battered the bulk of the emerging peaks. Sleek they were, these mountains, covered in green algae, corals and seashells. Fish writhed and jumped on the dry land, silvery scales glittering as light broke from the clouds. The islands kept rising and there was a glint of metal on the mountain slopes, as if they were man-made constructions, towers of steel operated with machinery. A deep thrum went through the earth. They rose and rose.

She knew they would cut into her with their sharp summits, pinning her limbs, as she lay spread-eagled against the sky, staring down at them.

Dakru, rising at their center, higher than all others, would pierce her heart.

* * *

_Damn nightmares_. When his heart stopped thumping madly and the sweat dried on his skin, Elei forced his eyes shut and tried to go back to sleep. Poena haunted his thoughts, though, and the sound of splashing water echoed in his ears, making sleep impossible. So he settled for staring at the ceiling, too tired to get up.

But contemplating the peeling paint didn't bring him any closer to falling asleep. Elei heaved a sigh. He turned on his side and bit back a groan as new scalding tongues of fire licked at his limbs. It was dark inside the room, night had fallen, but he could clearly see the three others sleeping atop their beds, scintillating forms of gold and orange with blue at the extremities. Hera's form had a silvery tinge to it. A Gultur. He'd seen the difference from the start. Had not trusted his eyes.

The urge to immerse his burning body into cold water ate away at his thoughts. He hadn't wanted to make noise and wake the others up, but the pain was too much.

Screw it.

He stood up quietly and padded to the water faucet. His first attempt got him nothing and his pulse thumped behind his eyes. Struggling to clear the red haze from his gaze, he twisted the faucet viciously until some water dribbled out and he spread it on his neck and shoulders, sighing at the brief respite of coolness. Bracing himself one-handed on the sink, he rubbed the back of his neck and shoulders, trying to ease the burning itch.

This was ridiculous. He'd barely avoided a harrowing death by telmion, only to burn from the inside out.

Cursing silently, he padded over to the window. Outside, Tisis twinkled, some flickering street lamps, lights flickering in a few windows. The Bone Tower gleamed in the distance.

The fountainhead.

A bed creaked. A silhouette came to stand beside him. He wasn't surprised to see Hera. In the faint light from the street, her lashes cast long shadows. Her cheekbones seemed to sparkle.

Elei tried to pull his gaze away but couldn't. "Can't sleep?"

"No. Too many things have been happening."

No shit.

She moved away from the window and leaned her back against the wall, one arm crossed over her stomach, half her face lost in shadow. Her gray suit of _polyesthene_ was open now at the neck and small scales shimmered on her breastbone.

"Do you dream?"

The unexpectedness of her question snapped him out of his surely impolite scrutiny. He forced his gaze up to meet her dark eyes. She looked away.

"I do." He didn't ask her if she also woke drenched in cold sweat, like he did. Besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"I do as well." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and it looked like he wasn't going to be spared. "I dream of the islands rising from the deep blue of the ocean. They rise higher and higher and seem made of metal, like naked blades. Then..." She closed her eyes, opened them again and this time she was the one who met his reluctant gaze. "They impale me."

Under her hard stare, he fought a shudder and said, "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"Do you ever wonder, Elei? Do you ask yourself if there are other people elsewhere? Do you ever want to know where we came from, where the islands came from? And do not tell me the gods created everything because I'll shoot you."

But her hand didn't move toward her gun and, besides, he was a good shot himself if it came to that. "I don't think about it."

Only a Gultur would have the luxury to wonder about the origin of life and the meaning of it all. He'd always had more urgent things to worry about. Food. Water. Medicines. Survival.

Like now.

"I see," she whispered. Her hand trembled slightly when she raised it to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. He never thought he'd see her affected so much by a dream.

More immediate concerns buried the thought. "Listen. If we manage to hide in the towns around the Bone Tower, where can we flee to if we're discovered?" His knowledge of the geography of Dakru was patchy. Beyond the Bone Tower, there were hills and then mountains, and at some point one would reach the northern coast, or go around the mountains, to the west.

"Two towns in the mountains house resistance groups." She spoke so low he leaned closer to hear. "We need to reach either one of them, to get fake IDs and codes. I'm sure the Gultur will not stop until they get us. My advice, as I said before, is to reach the northern coast, hire a boat and travel to another island, maybe Ker."

"You're coming with us, aren't you?"

She nodded.

His shoulders relaxed. Maybe relying on her so much was a mistake, but he had no other option. "Will the vehicle codes get us that far?"

"I think they'll last long enough for us to reach the mountains, at least. I..." A faint blush formed on her cheeks. She gripped his shoulder with her long fingers and breathed the next words into his ear, so that he shivered, "I messaged the Undercurrent. They'll look for us to provide an escort. You're..." She shrugged and turned toward the window, releasing him. "Somehow, right now you're the only one I can trust."

He started. "Would they risk themselves for us?"

She shook her head. "Yes. We still have hope." She glanced sideways at him and her eyes were hard. "Hope that you'll remember more of what Pelia told you."

Clenching his jaw, he went back to looking at Tisis. He'd thought she'd done it to help him, but it was only to get to the information he might have buried in his memories.

And why are you so disappointed?

Someone knocked on the door. His breath hissed out and he drew his gun. "Who's there?" He went to stand behind the door and his hand twitched on his Rasmus.

"You asked for water and food!"

It was a young girl's voice. Still, paranoia kept Elei in place. He pointed his gun at the door, nodding at Hera to open it. The girl came in, a package gripped tightly in her hands. For a moment, he thought he saw Poena, golden hair and a tattered dress. Breath caught in his throat, he stepped out from behind the door. She stiffened and turned to him.

Not Poena.

Her eyes widening, the girl dropped the package and covered her mouth with her small hands; then she wailed and ran out. Her steps echoed down the corridor.

"You scared her," Hera said in a flat voice.

"Coming from you," Elei muttered, "that's almost funny."

She grinned.

Maera and Kalaes stirred in their beds.

"Food." Hera plopped the package on the table and tore it open.

_Water_. Elei rummaged until he found a bottle. He twisted off the cap, raised the bottle to his lips and drank in great gulps. Coolness ran down his throat to his chest and stomach, soothing the fire.

Hands wrenched the bottle away. "Whoa. Leave some for us too." Cradling it to her chest, Maera walked back to her bed.

He stared after the bottle with longing, his hand reaching out for it. He was still parched.

At least there was food.

Inside the package, he found blue bread, but also some algae cheese and K-fungi. He bit into the bread. He hadn't felt this hungry in a while. He wolfed down chunks of bread and algae cheese, barely chewing.

"Slow down," Hera gripped his arm, not looking at him, "you'll choke."

He stopped chewing and followed her gaze.

Kalaes sat still, head bowed. When had he last had water and food?

_Hells_. Dropping the bread, Elei wiped his mouth and strode over to Maera, took the bottle of water right out of her hands. "If you're finished..." She made a grab for it but he was already out of her reach. He sat down next to Kalaes and pushed the bottle into his hands. "Drink."

Kalaes' hands closed automatically around it. He looked up, eyes wide. "Thanks."

Elei nodded and reached up to rub his itchy shoulder blades.

"What's wrong with your shoulders?" Maera came to stand before him, chewing. "You keep rubbing them."

"Let me see," Hera said. "Whatever it is, it's probably spreading."

Elei turned his back and let Hera poke at him with cold fingers.

"Well?"

"The pepper smell is stronger." Hera sniffed. "I was right, it's spreading. What in the hells is this parasite? Did you come in contact with anything unusual lately?"

_Spreading_. His breath hitched. "You mean apart from you?"

"Very funny," Hera said drily. "Did you, Elei?"

"No."

"The bullet," Kalaes said, voice barely above a whisper.

"What about the bullet?" Hera's fingers lingered on Elei's shoulder. Her cool touch felt divine on his overheated body.

Silence. Outside an aircar zoomed, a man's angry voice rang from the street.

Elei got that empty feeling in his stomach again and his vision blurred. "Pelia. She injected me with something, but not a transmitter."

"What then?" Maera came to join them. "What is it?"

"Don't you see it?" Kalaes said.

"You do not mean..." Hera trailed off, sounding uncertain.

"What's this about?" Maera's voice rose in pitch.

"The cure." Sweat ran down Elei's temples.

Maera snorted. "The cure? The thing everyone is after?"

Hera rested her hand on Elei's shoulder. "The marks of this parasite are spreading down your back, over the snakeskin. But it's a parasite, not a cure for anything."

_Frigid hells_. Elei reached back, traced the marks with his fingertips. Slightly raised, they spilled from the line around his neck down his spine. "You said you don't know this parasite."

Hera shook her head. "Whatever it is, it's powerful. Yet, cronion and telmion are the strongest parasites we know of."

"Except Regina," Maera said.

"Except Regina," Hera agreed and fell silent.

Elei shifted his weight. Sweat trickled down his face. _What if..._

"Think about it, Hera!" Kalaes' breath was coming in short gasps and he gestured toward Elei. "Think of Regina's constant mutating. Only a parasite could ever beat it, a parasite developing and changing at the same pace, matching Regina change for change."

Exactly.

"I have studied this," Hera said firmly. "There is no such parasite, nothing as powerful as Regina, not even telmion."

"But Regina's a strain of telmion. You said so yourself, fe. Telmion is controlled by cronion. This new parasite sent the telmion in Elei's body into a total remission in a matter of days."

So Pelia had discovered a parasite that could mark the end of the Gultur. _Holy shit_.

"Just _think_ about it." Kalaes voice rose with excitement. "A stronger form of cronion. It's been maturing. It replaced cronion, took its place. That done, it went on to attack telmion and suppressed it, maybe ate it up. I wonder if—"

"You're just guessing things," Maera said. "We know nothing."

Kalaes shrugged, frowning.

Elei's back burned, the fire was spreading to his legs. He was so damn thirsty. _Waterwaterwater_.

"What will you do now, Elei?" Hera whispered.

Running away, that had been the only thought. Escaping, surviving. And now they were talking about... what, exactly? "What do you expect me to do?"

Hera turned to him, face somber. "Stop Regina."

"But you can't live without it," he pointed out. "You said it'd kill you."

Kill the entire Gultur race? Gods, what an idea.

"I do not think this parasite will kill Regina, or me," Hera whispered.

Pelia had been happy that day. So happy. She must have found the solution. And yet... "The parasite seems to have killed telmion off."

Hera nodded. "Perhaps. We do not know this for sure. But, in any case, Regina is much stronger than telmion. Regina will fight back, and maybe, hopefully, there will be a balance, like you had between cronion and telmion. You're carrying Rex, the King. The stuff of old tales."

_The king_. Pelia had been talking about it right before she died. A tale for children, or so he'd thought.

Kalaes raised a brow. "King?"

"It is a story we are taught at school. About the opponent of the golden queen," Hera whispered. "I never thought... Like cronion controls telmion, Rex can control Regina. Rex, the strong one, who was locked away and kept in darkness in the box of dreams."

Elei shivered. The tale spoke of a temple where the king was kept dormant, lying underneath a knife, in a sealed box. Preserved for eternity until someone sought him out again. Then, once aroused, the king had to merge with a living body.

_My body_. Elei wiped his palms on his thighs and swallowed hard.

So the priests had kept the parasite dormant for centuries and forgot its power, its function, its possibilities, until Pelia had made sense of the tales and gone to visit the temple. She'd found Rex and stolen it, revived it and given it to Elei.

Joy.

Pelia had injected him with Rex and had either explained and he'd been too out of it to understand, or she'd hoped the parasite would make sure he did what he had to do.

Had she thought of what Rex would do to _him_? Or had she simply placed the fate of the islands above him? One down to save the many?

He wondered if he could ever hate her for that.

"How long does it take the parasite to incubate?" Hera's long fingers curled into fists. "Did Pelia tell you?"

Pelia's voice whispered in Elei's memory. "Ten days," he said, surprised that he remembered. "That's what she said. Ten days for the king to rise." She'd laughed at his perplexity and told him it all really made sense.

Well, it did now.

"So the tale runs true," Hera said in a hushed voice. "The King will emerge to claim what is his."

"What does that mean?" Elei mumbled. "Claim who?"

"His bride," Hera said. "The queen."

Regina.

Ten days. How many had passed already? _'My king_. _'_ Poena's face came to his mind. _'I represent the king in you.'_

He didn't know if he should laugh or cry. "And now?"

"That's all. We know no more." Hera glanced at Elei and a light played in her gaze. Maybe fear. Maybe hope. "You're the King now. What will you do?"

Chapter 23

Rex. _The King._

Hera's pulse raced. Now she saw how it all fit together — the way Regina reacted in Elei's presence, twisting in her gut; the way telmion flared, then lost the fight.

Was that really what Pelia had been trying to find? A super parasite? _Impossible_. Yet what if it was true?

It had to be. All the signs told her so. Sudden fear gripped her. What if Rex did not just weaken Regina? What if it suppressed Regina, devoured the parasite, killed the Gultur? No matter how much she wanted them to fall and change, she had not wished for their death.

The fear turned into jagged crystals of ice digging into her insides. She was of the Echo line, pure Gultur. She had not told the others how Pelia's drugs had affected her — the pain, the vomiting, the strange visions.

Maybe that was where it had all started, her dreams of the islands rising, her obsession with the beginning of the world. Maybe it had affected her mind.

What would it be like to be overcome by Rex, to be conquered and possessed?

She shuddered and wondered how Elei would change as the parasite matured in him. Maybe he'd already been changing, in stages, and she had not noticed.

Soon they might all notice. Soon everything might change.

For better or for worse.

* * *

Elei stayed up while the others went back to their beds. It was after all still the middle of the night. Slumped over the table, his heavy head resting on his folded arms, he wondered what to do.

' _You are the King now.'_ Poena's voice teased him. _'The king is awake.'_

Pissing hells.

Save the world from the Gultur. _Shit, yeah._ "How?" His head pounded. "Break into the Sacred Citadel, the Bone Tower? Spill my blood into the water? That's insane."

' _So you'll just sit back and let the world crumble when you could fix this?'_ he thought he heard Poena say, and her small, frowning face flashed before his eyes. _'Show some backbone!'_

Backbone. Right.

He rubbed his eyes, pinched his nose. He stretched, wincing as muscles pulled, bones creaked and skin burned like fire. He passed a hand over this neck, felt the tiny marks there and swallowed past a permanently parched throat.

A parasite to save the world. What if it wasn't true? What if they were all wrong? _Blood in the water_. Could he do it? Could he make it to the fountain, drip some of his blood and escape alive?

He realized he hoped for the parasite to take him over, to force him to do what had to be done. But it didn't work that way, did it? He was on his own in this. _As in everything._

Pelia had died for this cure. _'Good luck,'_ she'd said — had she known what he had to do? If she loved him as a mother, would she send him to open his veins in the Gultur fountain? Did she think the world was more important than him?

Was it?

Pale light seeped through the window, outlining the others' slumbering forms on the beds. Kalaes, Maera, Hera. They deserved a better life. What if he could give it to them?

Besides, what did he have to go back to? Albi and Pelia were dead and gone.

A deafening buzz broke through his thoughts. It rose to a high-pitched whine and he clutched at his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw lights moving.

Shit.

He pushed back the chair and distantly heard it crash to the floor. The lights danced in the distance, flying in a diamond formation.

"The Fleet!" He stood in a daze. How had they found them again? Had the Gultur at the checkpoint recognized him after all?

It made no sense. Why would they have waited so long to come and get them?

"Elei?" rasped Kalaes' sleepy voice.

"We're out of here, now! The damn Fleet's here!" Elei raced to the door and threw it open into the dim corridor.

"Elei, have you lost it?" Maera groaned. "It's still night time! What are you talking about?"

"Get up." Hera tsked. "You know he can see in the dark. Come on. Hurry."

Kalaes drew his legs to the side. "What's happening, fe?"

The buzzing shrilled. Elei gritted his teeth. "Hurry up! They're almost here."

He stumbled down the narrow stairs, the others at his back, and startled an old man dozing at the reception desk. They spilled out into the street and clambered into the aircar, cursing. Elei took the driver's seat, while Hera climbed next to him and the others into the back, not talking, huddling together for warmth.

Elei's hands shook so much that the act of fitting the key in the ignition came close to defeating him. His head pounded. He thought for a moment to ask Hera to drive, or even Kalaes, but then thought better of it and forced himself to function. He couldn't trust anyone. Someone among them had betrayed them again — and it wasn't Kalaes.

The aircar rose from the ground with a hum that vibrated through the _nepheline_ seats. Elei checked the systems, while his vision lit up the inside of the aircar in a pale blue glow. He set the accelerator and they took off down the dirty, empty avenue. The gloam was chilly and gray. Mist rose from the soil in low clouds. The Fleet darkened the horizon. How to lose them?

He turned into side streets, trying to gauge their width so that the aircar wouldn't become stuck between the buildings.

"They're coming!" Hera's long hair hung in loose waves, softening her grim expression. "They cannot follow you in the narrow streets."

"But they can level the town," he said through gritted teeth.

"They'll bomb us down!" Maera shouted.

"There is nowhere else to hide around here. Go to the northern side, there are many tall buildings." Hera didn't even look back, but her voice held a warning tone. "Elei..."

"Got it."

He cocked the balance lever, steadying the vehicle, and took them through deserted suburbs with their overgrown gardens, then, checking the vehicle compass, headed north. Missiles zipped by, rocking them. Ahead, a tall building exploded into fire and a rain of mortar and metal.

"Shit." He maneuvered the aircar behind a two-story building and then onto a main avenue. "Hold on."

A multiple-story storehouse exploded on their right and the impact sent the vehicle skidding. Elei pulled the brake, slowing, but the aircar crashed sideways into a squat administrative building. Elei's head slammed into the side window and for a moment he blacked out.

The world swam back into focus. Keeping his groan behind gritted teeth, he straightened and turned around. "Is everyone okay?"

They all looked dazed but nobody seemed hurt. Heart pounding, he forced himself to focus. He checked the systems one by one, fingers flying on the control panel. Apart from damage reported on one of the _dakron_ slots, everything was okay. He slumped in relief and took the aircar off the ground once more. If he led the Fleet on a mad chase through the town and came out on the western side, they'd hopefully lose them and then he'd drive west, to the mountains.

Another explosion rocked them. Jaw clenched, he turned into a side street, wobbling crazily as he fought to equalize the protesting car systems.

"This way!" Hera pointed left, and he swerved into a huge refueling station, roofed and walled.

"Are you mad?" Elei's jaw ached from the tension as he drove into the dimness of the high-ceilinged building. "If a missile hits the fuel, we're history." The explosion would be spectacular. What a way to go.

"Now right," she said, calm and imperturbable. That moment he envied her composure. "Hurry or your fears may come true."

_Damn her_. Maybe she wasn't human after all.

They shot through a maze of alleys and claustrophobic twisting roads. One turn was too narrow, and the aircar screeched against the station wall as they veered into a dark multi-level parking lot. "How's this so much better?"

"Down, go down!" Maera yelled from the back seat. "If a missile hits this, the whole thing may fall on our heads."

The walls glimmered white, pulsing with a pale glow, and an arrow pointed to the left. He slowed as he took the turns, and they spiraled down.

A detonation shook them, rattling Elei's teeth and bones. The ground trembled, and the aircar swayed and careened into the wall. Jerking on the steering lever, he brought it back to the passage as a light ahead announced the exit. He drove on, grim, gaze fixed ahead.

That had been the refuel station. They'd barely made it out alive.

They shot out of the parking lot, in the last minute avoiding a frontal collision with another vehicle. Heart in his throat, Elei twisted the lever and they spun about.

"Elei, take right!" Kalaes hollered.

At least the chase had managed to snap the man out of the daze he'd been in.

Elei managed to steady the aircar, drove around the other vehicle with the driver shouting obscenities at them, and zoomed down the narrow road. A deep hum entered his audio sphere and then the high pitched whine was back. "Incoming."

Maera grabbed his shoulder from behind. "What are you saying—"

He swerved and dipped into an alley. Blinding light erupted behind them, followed by a deafening boom, and debris clattered on the roof of the aircar.

"Pissing hells," Kalaes muttered.

The hum of planes rose closer, sending pulses of pain through Elei's head. "They're sending drones now." He spotted an old garage on one side and turned the aircar into the dark opening.

"We'll be trapped!" Kalaes said. "Dammit, Elei!"

"Wait." Elei didn't power down the vehicle. Rectangular drone crafts zipped past outside the garage, line after line of flashing lights, while the Fleet darkened the sky above. Elei checked the compass. Hands tight on the controls, he waited until the last drone zoomed past, then he backed the aircar out onto the street. He hit on the lights and fell in line with the last drone, following it.

"What in Sobek's name are you doing?" Hera whispered, breathless. "They'll see us—"

"Blending in." The aircar was slightly bigger than the drones — but drones were basic tech. There was the possibility they wouldn't notice.

"Gods," Maera muttered, grabbing the back of Elei's seat.

They zoomed through alley after alley, at the tail of the drone row. "They're heading south. We need to break off."

"Where to?" Kalaes asked.

"West," was all Elei said as he veered off and dove back into the maze of alleys and streets.

Nobody spoke as he wove through dead-end streets and narrow lanes, everyone's gaze up to the sky, checking if the Fleet had spotted them. The houses started to thin out and they shot out of the town onto the connecting road, among algae fields.

In the distance, the Bone Tower soared against the gray sky. The mountains around it rose steeply from the plain, pale pinnacles like the buildings of an oversized city. They reminded him of Ost, of the Spire Mountains that lay beyond the trashlands and the marshes.

The rearview mirror didn't show him any pursuers. Pressing down on the accelerator, Elei drove away from Tisis.

As adrenaline faded and the pounding in his head eased, the scalding need for water returned full force. Waves of fiery pain rippled down his legs. He thought he heard water rushing and looked down, expecting to see it lapping at his knees. He licked lips dry as paper, tried to swallow past a closed throat.

_Waterwaterwater_. He had to submerge himself in it, fall into it, let it close over his head. The skin on his face burned against his cheekbones and his jaw, around his eyes and mouth.

_Ponds_. Algae ponds had to line the interplain road, the one leading to the sacred heart of Dakru, to the Bone Tower. Most of them were brine, but some may be brackish. He didn't mind brackish. Not at this point.

"Not bad, Elei." Hera was studying her hands as if she'd never seen them before. "Not bad at all."

A weight fell on his shoulder. "Good job, fe." Kalaes pulled his hand back. "Relax, Mae. I'm not trying anything."

"Just being careful," she ground out.

And things were back to their delightful normalcy.

He drove. Where to? Which town? He didn't ask. He didn't care.

Water.

Always checking for anyone tailing them, he skirted towns and farms, but saw no pond or even a salt lake. No water. The headache threatened to blind him, pounding hammers behind his eyes. Nothing. No shimmer of a fountain or brook.

Ahead, the glimmering waters of Bone Tower called to him, and the great source waited.

His hands finally stopped shaking. _Of course_. He was only delaying the inevitable, when he'd already made his decision. He had to hurry, before the Fleet discovered them again. He set the course in the direction of the Bone Tower, the sacred citadel of the Gultur.

The others were so out of it that it took them some time to figure it out.

Maera was the first to speak. "Elei, where do you think you're going? You can't go into the Citadel!"

Kalaes and Hera stirred.

"Turn around." Hera grabbed his arm. "Sobek's piss, turn right now! Have you gone mad?"

He didn't answer and didn't swerve. The Fleet thundered over them, making another pass, heading back toward Tisis, rows of _seleukids_ flying low in streaks of blinding light. Elei wished they would crash and disappear like smoke. He wished Poena was there, making it all a dream. But no fountain splashed, no girlish voice spoke in his ear. He flew grimly on, toward the ghostly agaric forest and the citadel of Bone Tower.

"What in the hells are you doing, Elei?" Maera slapped his shoulder. "Turn around!"

He ignored her and continued until the white stems rose tall and then he entered the Tower road.

"You're taking us into their hands!" Hera grabbed his arm and shook him. "Stop! Soon the police vehicles will come to investigate who we are."

He pulled free, but then Maera thumped on his chair, almost throwing him on the controls. She grabbed him from behind, pressing his aching shoulders against the backrest.

"No!" He struggled against her. "You don't understand. The fountain." He had to find it. Nothing else mattered.

"What's wrong with him?" Maera whispered.

Maera. Such a sweet girl. Holding the longgun like a pro. Lying about her father. Lying to them.

He fought her hold, suddenly realizing the situation was worse than he thought.

Hera climbed over him and wrestled the controls from his hands. She shoved him just as Maera yanked him aside. "Just hold him down," she said, taking the driver's seat.

"Elei?" Kalaes' voice, strained. "What's happening to you now, fe?"

"It could be the parasite," Hera said.

Elei pushed against Maera's hold. She jerked him back, forcing a gasp from his throat.

Nobody could be trusted. Only one person hadn't been checked for a biotransmitter. _Only one_. They'd be found again, it was too late. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. Now he knew why.

Hera flew around the forest, the white light washing them in milky torrents, and then took them behind the high walls. She stopped the aircar, powered it down, and turned to him. "What in the five hells, Elei? Are you a traitor, too?"

Maera's hold loosened. He wanted to laugh as he pried Maera's hands off him and turned to look at her and Kalaes. Their white, frightened faces smothered his laughter.

"I'm not the traitor here. There's another transmitter." Elei fought to hear himself over the screeching in his head. _Waterwaterwater_. "That's how they found us again."

"Shit." Kalaes raked his hand through his spiky hair, then tugged on the two thin braids hanging over his ear. "If he's right, it won't take them long to find us again."

"What are you saying?" Hera looked into Elei's eyes. Hers were stern and cold. "We checked. Are you saying Kalaes has another transmitter?"

Kalaes shrank back, then lifted his chin at her. "Can't wait to cut me again?"

"We could check him," Elei said quietly, fighting the urge to grab the controls and fly on, toward the water. His body shook. "But I'm pretty sure we won't find it in him."

He hadn't misjudged Kalaes. He knew that now.

"Then what are you saying?" Maera frowned.

He saw her in his mind's eye, holding the gun with the ease of long practice, pointing, swinging it around. The ease with which she'd taken out the shrapnel from Kalaes' leg. The ease with which she'd turned against him.

"I mean that the transmitter is in you, Maera."

The moment of stunned silence stretched, then snapped.

"Damn you," Maera said.

Elei drew both the guns from his belt, just as Maera pointed the longgun at him.

Stalemate.

"Maera?" Kalaes whispered, all blood draining from his face. He hadn't seen it, Elei thought. He'd been blinded by love and lust, even after everything that had happened.

Hera's hands twitched at her sides. She snarled. "You! I never trusted you."

The 'little girl' a traitor. Working for the Gultur. A spy.

_Shitshitshit_ , his mind chanted. _This is Maera. The one who helped you out. Kalaes' girlfriend._

So what? Kill her? Wound her? What was he expected to do?

_Survive_. That didn't leave so many options. His body was on fire. _Get the hell out of here. Find water._

His back muscles contracted and he fought not to lose his grip on the gun, not to lose aim. _Screw this_. "Why, Maera?" He really wanted to know.

"None of your business," she snapped, not denying it. "I'm not going to spill my heart out to you. Forget it."

Elei supposed he should have expected that. Still.

"She hates men," Hera said. "Hates her father."

But she'd had sex with Kalaes. Why?

_Ah_. "You slept with Kalaes to implant the transmitter." He saw Maera's eyes widen a fraction. "Because you realized sooner or later all of us would be checked, and you needed to have someone accused. It was easy to implant it in Kalaes." His mouth was so dry his tongue stuck to the roof. "You wanted to find out what Pelia told me. Well, now you know it all."

"We thought Pelia told you everything." Maera's voice was stony. "I had to make sure."

"You knew Pelia might send information to Kalaes," Hera said. "You counted on it. You never thought she would send a person, or the antidote itself."

Maera shifted to the side, scowling, revealing what she held in her other hand.

Elei winced. She had the longgun trained on him, while pushing her tweezers into Kalaes' neck. Into his jugular. No wonder Kalaes sat so still.

He could only hope Hera wasn't about to reveal she'd been against them all along. He peered at her. She sat, hands in her lap, mouth downturned. On their side. _Good_.

It had to be killing her, Elei thought clinically. A Gultur princess, raised to believe she owned the worlds, used to having the upper hand.

Trapped.

Sweat dripped down his neck, tickling, itching. The marks on his neck and shoulders blazed like a wildfire, and everything around him flashed in hues of gold and silver. He could see the trajectories his bullets would take to slam into Maera's pulsing heart and her brain. He could see the path her hand would follow to push the tweezers into Kalaes' neck as the impact of the bullet threw her backwards. The trails of her bullets, one after another, racing toward his own heart as her finger pressed the trigger button. A calculated chain reaction.

But he couldn't lower his weapons. Because she'd press the trigger. All she needed from him was a blood sample. She would eliminate him. Eliminate the possibility of a threat to the Gultur. If she was ready to kill Kalaes — her hand on the tweezers pressing deeply into his throat was steady as steel — then what compunction would she have to kill Elei whom she hardly knew?

His hands flexed on the guns. Two guns. If he could create a diversion... He'd be taking a great risk. Depending on how good her reflexes were. Depending on how good his hunch was, how fast he was, how well he did it.

Risking Kalaes' life.

And his own of course, but he tried not to think too hard about that.

He began to move, noticing Hera was moving too, and it almost cost him his concentration. He threw himself sideways, firing both guns, the angle of the bullets meant to throw Maera away from Kalaes, and he found Hera cushioning his fall, cradling his head. His bullets flew true, striking Maera on the left shoulder and side, throwing her back against the door.

Her gun fired twice and her bullets slammed into the ceiling. Before he could move she fired again, this time grazing his cheek and upper arm, making him hiss. He shot at her hand, and she dropped the longgun. Hera pushed him off her and rose smoothly. He grabbed the longgun and pulled Kalaes down with him, away from Maera.

"Shit," was all Elei could say. There was Maera, bleeding on the seat, barely conscious. Then Kalaes, his blank expression and deathly pallor more worrying than the tiny wound on his throat that bled sluggishly. Hera, unharmed and seeming to be on their side, though nobody could know for sure where they stood, apparently. And himself, cheek and arm stinging like all the hells, still holding the two guns, lying there like an idiot.

Maera moaned. And what to do with her? Let her die? It didn't sit well with him. No matter what she'd done.

Pissing great.

Meanwhile, flames licked his spine, hot needles jabbing into his sides until his back arched. Gods, he had to find water. _Now_.

"We must kill her transmitter," he heard himself say as if from afar. He watched Hera reach out and take one of the guns from his hands. He let her. She disassembled it and took out the _dakron_ cube. Then she knelt before Maera and passed it over her body. The transmitter was in her right calf. He saw the burn form on her pants.

Hera plunged her blade inside and pulled the transmitter out. Dropped it to the floor and squished it. "Done."

Maera was losing blood. If Elei wanted to keep her alive, he had to do something — because he had a nagging suspicion that if Kalaes came out of his shell-shocked frame of mind to find Maera dead, he might go completely mad. And Elei couldn't allow that.

So he forced himself to crawl over to her and try to staunch the blood. It was a lot, pooling on the seat.

Suddenly Hera was beside him, moving so fast he was dizzy. She pushed him aside. "I'll do it. Go sit and put some pressure on your shoulder."

He watched her strip cloth from Maera's blouse and bunch it against her side, which seemed to be the deepest of the three wounds. Hera worked efficiently, every movement precise.

"Still here?" she threw over her shoulder at him. "Move."

He wanted to shove her aside, take control of the vehicle and get going toward the water, but shrugged instead, fighting his need. He scooted backwards until his back met the aircar wall. He put a hand to his cheek and wiped blood. It looked black in the pale light of the phosphorescent walls outside. He tried to strip a piece of his polo shirt, but couldn't find the strength for it. The adrenaline was washing away and it left him trembling. He chanced a glance at Kalaes.

"Hey." He dragged himself closer to the older boy. "Are you all right?"

Kalaes' eyes were fixed on Maera. Elei swallowed hard. "I'm sorry about that, about shooting her, I mean. I could see no other way out of the mess. I think she'll be all right. Hera seems to know what she's doing."

Kalaes finally looked at him, eyes bloodshot. He raised a hand and grabbed Elei's shoulder. "Is she dead?" he whispered.

"No." Elei winced and tried to shrug the hand off his wounded shoulder. "She's alive."

Kalaes blinked and let him go. "Is she?"

Elei's eyes smarted. He turned his head away. Had he killed her?

"It's all right, fe," Kalaes said quietly. "You did the right thing."

"Sure."

"Hey. All this wasn't your fault."

Elei nodded, not believing it. Blood trickled into his mouth. He licked his lips, so thirsty. His skin felt like it would burn right off his bones and flesh. _Water_.

Hera crawled back to them. "She'll be okay, I think. No major arteries or organs seem to have been hit. I have stopped the bleeding as best I could."

"We should get going," Elei said, words coming with difficulty to his dry mouth. "They may have detected the transmitter signal anyway."

He couldn't even find the energy to move to the seat. He groaned as he got to his knees, then grabbed Kalaes' arm and hauled him up with him, dropping them both on the old _nepheline_.

Colors flashed in his eyes, pulsing. Maera's spilled blood made his mouth water. He needed liquid, so desperately he ached with the need.

Hera looked him up and down. "Will you let me drive now?"

Blood seeped from the wound on his shoulder. It burnt, as did his cheek. "Be my guest."

He fingered his Rasmus, then glanced at Kalaes, realized he still had Kalaes' gun. He winced when he thought he'd mistrusted Kalaes. He took it out of his belt and held it out to him, then winced again as his shoulder protested the movement.

Kalaes moved to take it, eyes flicking to Elei. His lip curled into a faint half-smile. "Is that shoulder okay, fe?"

Elei nodded and slumped against the _nepheline_ seat. He rubbed at his eyes. His head throbbed.

Hera revved up the aircar. "Where are we going?" She glanced sideways at him.

_Gods, what to do?_ Fear drilled a hole in his stomach. _Blood in the water. Death._ This was madness. Maybe he carried no cure, maybe the parasite was just using him, using them all to spread and infect. _Water_. He needed to control himself. _Control, dammit._

"Far from here." He closed his eyes, bright pain lighting the inside of his eyelids. He groaned and glanced up again.

She was quiet, her hands still on the controls, the black marks on them stark against their pallor. "Where?"

"Take me far from the Tower. Far away, do you hear?" He realized he was shouting and snapped his mouth shut.

"We could go north as I originally suggested," Hera muttered. "Yet I'm not sure how safe it is to leave now. Maybe we could lie low in one of the towns until tonight."

"Elei?" Kalaes tapped his back.

Terror clawed its way up his throat. He had glimpses of horrible things, decay and death, washing over him in great black waves. He heaved. The light was too bright. He shaded his watering eyes. "Please. Leave me alone."

"You all right, fe?" Kalaes grabbed his shoulder. "Hey."

The fire was consuming him like a twig. "Water..." Hera's scent of _como_ flowers rose to his nostrils, sugary sweetness, and he breathed in deeply. It sent his heart thumping, his vision flashing. Then dizziness hit him. The world narrowed to a split second, a razor-thin view. The Bone Tower, the great fountain, the splash of cool water. His hands shook. "Move out of the way."

"What?"

He shoved Hera out of the seat. He was momentarily blinded by her creamy skin, her wide gaze, her soft lips, and distantly he wondered if Rex was the one interested in Hera, _or in Regina_ , and not him.

Yet he didn't have the time to ponder. "We're going in."

"But you just said—"

Kalaes tried to reach over Hera — to grab his arm. "Elei, what in the hells do you think you're doing?"

"Not sure. I'm working on it." He grabbed the controls, pulled back the steering lever and raised the aircar high. It soared into the sky, over the walls. His hands were numb, his back ached, his bones hurt all the way to the marrow.

' _Die, Elei, you must die.'_ It was a child's voice. A girl's voice. _Poena_.

Black ate at the edges of Elei's vision. He knew he had to somehow finish this. He didn't matter. Nothing did, apart from getting to the fountain. His hands held so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. That broke through the haze for a moment. This wasn't right. He tried to unclench his hands from the controls, to turn the vehicle around. _I don't want to die._

_Diediedie_. His hands gripped the levers harder, his teeth ground together. _Find the water supply. The Fountainhead._ In his mind, images of lakes and rivers crashed into each other. He flew on.

Hands grappled him from behind. "Elei!"

He pulled out his gun and shot at the ceiling. The impact of the bullet rocked the vehicle, but he didn't veer off course, holding the steering lever steady. "Don't touch me."

Curses.

"Stop, fe! You'll kill yourself, kill us all!"

Not important. He kept the gun pointed at Hera and flew on, over the markings of the Tower road, in the arid emptiness that surrounded the citadel.

"Please, Elei." Hera's voice was quiet and strained. "Stop. Stop the vehicle."

Her voice faded, lost in the buzzing inside his head. He flew over the low city surrounding the Bone Tower, over barracks and broad avenues. The sight was quite unlike any other Elei had seen. White buildings lined parallel, broad streets with trees covered in yellow blooms. Shiny web antennas formed crowns on spherical constructions, and palaces with turrets stood on higher places. Elei's gaze slid over this glorious cityscape, his mind blank.

Waterwaterwater.

"Stop!" Kalaes' hand landed on Elei's shoulder. He shrugged it off, tightened his finger on the trigger, prepared to shoot. With his other hand, he pulled the lever and raised the aircar higher.

"Elei." Hera gripped his shoulder.

He fired past her, grazing her arm. She gasped and flinched back.

"Dammit, Elei!" Kalaes tried to grab him again.

Gunfire hit the aircar, rocking them, throwing Kalaes back. Elei kept his aim on Hera, his route to the citadel. Alarms sounded and flashing beacons streaked the sky with red. The vehicle rose higher, along the winding heavenway. Straight up. To the white gate.

The Bone Tower rose in eerie splendor above the town, a bright white pinnacle with the citadel as its crown. Elei needed both hands for this. He pushed his gun into the holster, changed the gear to the first for more power, raised the amortisseur in the front, braced his legs against the console.

"He's going to crash through the gates." Kalaes grunted. "Hera, hold tight!"

The gates loomed before them, above them, enormous, oblong, carved with scenes from the ascent of the gods and the tortures of the deepest hell, deep in the ocean, complete with monsters and evil sea demons, devouring the damned. The gods hovered above the rippling waters.

_Water_.

Elei set the aircar on a collision course. It crashed through the gates, tearing them open.

His head snapped forward and hit the control board.

Darkness.

Chapter 24

"This is typical behavior." The voice tickled Elei's senses, smooth and low — a woman's familiar voice. "Rex is mature now and will push him to extremes to infect others. Trust me, I have studied all these kinds of parasites. Stay with him."

"He's out, fe, don't worry. Let me try to get you out of there first."

Warm liquid trickled down Elei's face. Scent of copper. _Blood_.

"No. Kalaes, do not let him out of your sight. Rex wants to infect. I'm afraid... I think Elei will try to sacrifice himself."

"They'll probably kill him before he manages that, fe; they'll kill us all."

He heard the words their voices formed, but couldn't understand them.

"They're not prepared for this. They do not have many battle-worthy vehicles and will need time to regroup. Besides," she clucked her tongue, "I notified the Undercurrent."

"When?"

"In Tisis, when I went with Maera to get the food. She went out, probably to give the Fleet our position, and I used the hotel's net to send an emergency code. If we're lucky, they're on their way to help us."

"Do you really think they'll come into Bone Tower for us?"

"I sent a code red. Extremely important information is at stake. They'll come."

A grunt. "Dammit, fe, this seat won't budge. Push with me, I've got to get you free." He grunted again. "So what about the Fleet? Won't they come and gun us down before help arrives?"

"That's my main concern. We have to get out of here fast."

Elei groaned as he sat up, his body burning inside and out. Blood ran down one side of his face from a gash on the forehead, and from his nose, dribbling between his lips. He licked them.

When he gripped the backrest and pushed himself to his feet, pain ripped through his body and head. The world grayed.

He found himself leaning against the console. Hot needles dug into his back. Molten metal flowed in his veins, carving his body from the inside.

Die, Elei, die.

With his fingertips he wiped the blood from his nostrils. He had to... Had to... _The door. Go out. Find the water._

He stumbled to the door, grabbed the handle.

"Elei! Stop, dammit. Don't go out!" _Kalaes_. "They'll kill you. We've got to fix the vehicle and leave now."

Elei ignored him and pushed the door open to the early evening. Dogs barked as he jumped out onto the marble platform. Then, gunfire. Instinctively he rolled as bullets glanced off the aircar's sides and ripped the air around him. He raced around the vehicle, bracing himself. Bullets ricocheted and a line of fire etched itself into his arm.

He crouched low, waiting. The air was sweet with moisture and the scent of flowers, wet earth and grass. Elei inhaled and knew which way to go. The water called him like a cool touch in his mind.

When the rain of bullets slowed, he sprinted toward the first building in sight, a domed house. He broke the window with his gun, reached inside for the handle. As the rat-tat-tat of gunfire sounded again, he unlatched the window and fell inside, groaning as his shoulder flared with fresh pain. Crouching against the wall, his breathing the loudest sound in his ears, he glanced at the desk and shelves lining the walls, filled with boxes, and saw her.

He aimed his gun at the sole occupant of the room, a Gultur.

She sat in a tall-backed chair with red leather armrests. She held herself still and straight, gaze fixed on Elei's face and a longgun trained on his head. Her blue eyes glinted like steel, and her red hair, gathered in a tall ponytail, fell on her shoulders where medals gleamed. Her chest was a deep, pulsing orange, tipped with blue, like a flame.

Elei frowned and gripped his gun tighter, his gut twisting, his mind clearing enough to realize where he was and what he was doing.

He'd entered the sacred Gultur citadel. And this woman... He knew her face from somewhere. That red hair, those medals... the newsprint he'd read when he'd first arrived at Artemisia.

She was Nekut, head of the Gultur investigations department, sworn to crack down and smother the Undercurrent movement.

_Hells_. He'd broken into the police department of the citadel. Just how much worse could his luck get?

But his thoughts began to fray as agony shot through his limbs. _Water_.

Her smell of fruit and flowers, the scent of Gultur women, wafted through the room, intensifying, twining around his neck like a noose, drawing him. He tightened his fingers around his gun handle to regain control. But control was impossible.

"I trust," she said, brows drawn together, her gun steady, "that you shall put down your guns and bow away slowly. For if you do not, the guards coming in now will blow you to pieces."

But she was wrong in trusting. _Burning. Thirst. Find water_. Nothing could stop him from locating the fountain.

He lowered the gun and supported it on his drawn-in knee. Rex sent shivers down his spine. "They'll be too late."

"You're making—"

He fired at her chest and her stunned eyes stopped blinking. Taking his eyes off the blood that sprouted on her pale blouse, as another face, a woman with crimson blooms on her chest filled his thoughts, he rose on wobbly legs. His arms trembled with fatigue. _Water, find water_. He had to move, move now! _Do it, dammit_.

His legs heavy, he stumbled out of the room into a dim corridor with rooms opening on either side. With his back to the wall as much as possible, he shuffled through the building, any noise sending him to hide behind pillars and marble counters.

Then Gultur scent surrounded him again, sugar sweet and flower spice, and his gut clenched. He fired before he even took good aim, and a statue exploded into fragments. Bullets grazed the pillar he hid behind, zipped by his head. He fired again and the leaden hail stopped.

He spotted a metal door and inched toward it. He thought of shooting the lock, then tried the handle. Unlocked. Licking dry lips, he exited, half-crouching, his gun on the ready, and plunged into a different world.

It was so unexpected, it stopped him in his tracks.

Joyful daylight danced on gleaming surfaces. A small garden with red and yellow flowers stretched to his right, a tall tree with needle-shaped leaves shaded a stone-built well. Gray cats rested on a green fence, like fluffy pillows. Low, white houses in neat rows rolled to his left. A woman was combing her golden hair, sitting on a low wooden bench. Two young girls dressed in shimmering blue dresses played with a rope in the smooth street.

Water trickled down stone walls, into round ponds, flowed in canals, reflecting every ray. Blue light rippled on every plane, every edge, causing the world to dance. _Water._

The street climbed upward. A tall and narrow temple of sparkling white stone crowned the citadel. Huge statues guarded its entrance. Water fountained and jets of spray danced high into the air.

_There_. Fire washed down his back to his thighs and calves. _Go!_

He ran upslope, searching with his gaze for suspect movement. Somewhere at his back shots went off and the whiff of smoke reached his nostrils. Kalaes and Hera, were they still alive? Fire spread on his back, down his thighs, deep in his chest. _Water_. Nothing else mattered.

A woman was crossing the street, black hair catching the light in blue streaks, when he ran past. She cried out in fear. He held back his fire, unwilling to attract more attention. He shoved her aside and ran on, his vision splotched with blackness. The temple dwarfed him, rising like a mountain over his head. He had to climb up, make it to the water. _Come on_.

"Elei!" Kalaes was running upslope toward him, a dark apparition in the golden light. "Come back, dammit!"

The water fountained into a gigantic urn. Its outer wall was made of that same white stone. Crystals in its texture sparkled and blinked. Marble. Slippery and smooth, it looked like a hell of a climb — but across its surface enormous friezes of battles and fish-tailed heroes rising from the waves were carved; an uneven surface he could use. He sheathed his gun and licked his dry lips. Glancing over one shoulder, he checked on Kalaes' progress. He was just a few meters away.

With a deep breath, Elei reached up to clutch at a sea monster's tail and hauled himself onto the outer shell of the fountain. His hands sought purchase on the smooth rock, his fingers buried themselves in engravings and caught on sculpted shapes and he climbed higher and higher toward the water that splashed and gurgled above.

Kalaes cursed below.

The scent of water wafted to Elei's nostrils and his vision tunneled, focusing on the goal of his climb, the rim of the great urn. Sounds faded as he clambered on, clinging to the rock. As the rim loomed above him, the sheer marble surface almost defeated him, but he ground his teeth and clawed at the rock wall, finally finding a crevice that allowed him to haul himself upward. He thought he heard his name being yelled and a coldness gripped his heart — had Kalaes fallen? — but he didn't dare turn to look. One slip and he'd fall. Not acceptable, not before he was in the water.

He threw one leg over the edge and lay on his belly, flat on the wide rim. Panting, he gazed down at the citadel houses, the city wall and the whole of the island of Dakru. White sprawls of cities and towns glowed faintly in the distance. Somewhere far, at the horizon, shimmered the blue band of the sea.

Spray tickled his face where the water burst out of the fanged mouths of fish and splashed into the urn. He turned his face toward the fine mist. _Here. At last_. He rose unsteadily on the ledge, pulled out his gun and pressed it into his belly. _Blood. Into the water._

Someone grabbed his ankles and yanked his feet from under him. He slammed onto the fountain rim, distantly feeling the impact on his back, and his shot went wild. A frieze exploded overhead, on a temple pillar.

Kalaes rose over the rim. He threw a leg over the ledge and sprawled, panting. "Don't do it, Elei," he rasped as he grabbed onto Elei's ankles. "We'll find another way."

"Let go of me!" Elei snarled and reloaded. Kalaes' face twisted in a grimace. His brows lifted and his mouth opened. He was saying something, but Elei couldn't hear.

He angled the Rasmus down and fired twice into his thigh. His whole body jerked and his vision went black, then white. As the colors returned, one by one — red, blue, green — lightning hit his nerves and sent lights flashing around him. He hissed. An inferno spread through his thigh, eating at his flesh. _The water. Get into the water. Spill blood into the water._

Kalaes's hold had relaxed. Elei strained against the loosened grip, jaw locked tightly against the pain, and turned toward the water. He stared down at it. Golden fireflies were dancing on its surface, and silver fish jumped and dived, leaving behind them brilliant trails. The temple writhed above like a giant opening his arms, his dark mouth.

He kicked out at the hands holding him down and twisted his body to bend over the fountain. His momentum dragged them both down. They hit the water like stones, breaking through with an earsplitting splash, and went under, into the deep quiet vault.

Released, he tumbled alone, weightless, somersaulting in the water. Light fractured on the surface above, broke into golden squares that rippled and danced. _Beautiful_. The cold numbed the pain. Elei sank lower, fingertips trailing on the smooth marble walls. Bubbles escaped his mouth.

Streaks of red rose from his leg, dissipating into pink clouds. His chest pounded, his pulse deafening in his ears. He opened his mouth to breathe and inhaled water. He choked and flailed. He tried to swim up, toward the bright surface, but couldn't rise. He fought the reflex of breathing and his lungs burned. Blood swirled around him, tinting the water crimson. _Is it enough?_ His body twitched and he raised his face to the light.

Hands dug into his shoulders and hauled him up and up, in an endless ascent. He broke the surface and cold air slapped his face. He sputtered, swallowed more water and sank again.

A hand dragged him back up. "Elei, dammit to the five hells, come on!" Kalaes held Elei's head above the churning water where he gasped and coughed. "We have to go, they're coming!"

He coughed and coughed, water coming out of his mouth and nose, stinging. _Go where?_ "Let them." _More bullets, more blood into the water._

"No! Come on! You've done enough."

Had he?

The sound of an aircar engine split the air. _They're here_.

Kalaes pushed him up onto the broad marble rim, underneath the stinging fall of water. Elei's numb fingers dragged on the rough surface, leaving red trails. Something lifted his foot — Kalaes was giving him a leg up. He flopped on the rim, panting.

With a grunt, Kalaes heaved himself up and scooted next to Elei. "It's Hera. She got the aircar running again. Come."

Hera?

The aircar hovered before the fountain and Kalaes pulled him to his feet. Behind the vehicle three more hovered, humming. Gunshots ripped through the air. A bullet caught Elei in the side, another in the chest. The impacts rattled his bones and teeth. Pressing his hand against the new wound in his side, he felt the hot blood pumping out, washing into the fountain with the spray of water.

_Done_. Relief filled him. _Completion. Absolution_.

Kalaes' hold on him tightened. "Stay with me, fe. We'll make it out of here. You hear me?"

A chuckle rose in Elei's throat like a sob. "Yeah sure."

"Come on." Kalaes grabbed him around the waist and dragged him onto the deck of the aircar. "Climb in."

The aircar provided some cover from the bullets. Hera leaned out, grabbed Elei's arm and pulled him inside. He sprawled on the seat and the world exploded into white light and noise when the _nepheline_ pressed on the fire of his wounds.

"Good to see you, Hera!" Kalaes shouted, scrambling inside, next to Elei.

She flipped the power switch. "Good to see you both." The engines roared as they took off high and swerved behind the temple to avoid the gunfire. She shouted over the noise, "When you jumped out after him, I was not sure I would see either of you again."

The aircar shook with small impacts.

"You were right. They didn't expect anyone to crash into their citadel." Kalaes closed and barred the door. He turned around. "Who are the other three aircars?"

"Undercurrent. They got my message."

Kalaes' voice softened. "How did you make it out? I left you pinned between the seat and the control panel."

"I managed to wiggle out. I'm quite flexible." Hera snorted. "The dogs were barking at the door, but they could smell I was Gultur. The others stopped shooting, came to investigate. It bought me the time to get the take off sequence running..."

Her words faded. Someone shook Elei's shoulder and the sound rushed back in. He heard his name and he blinked, trying to clear his eyes. Red filled his vision. A metallic tang filled his mouth. He licked his lips. _Blood. So thirsty. Blood everywhere_.

Kalaes leaned over him, brows drawn together. He unglued Elei's jacket, opened it and hissed. "Dammit, fe, you're riddled with bullet holes!" Cursing, he pulled up Elei's t-shirt and prodded areas of varying degrees of pain. "Pissing frigid hells."

Elei whimpered. He was wrapped in a dull, distant, all-encompassing pain — but whenever Kalaes touched his skin, the pain sharpened like a blade cutting through him. Darkness framed everything, waiting to swallow the world.

"Elei. Can you hear me?" Kalaes pulled off his own t-shirt, tore it into strips and began bandaging Elei's thigh. "Nothing looks broken, but, hells, you're too keen on killing yourself."

"I told you, it was Rex doing that, not him." Hera sounded angry. "Rex was trying to spread."

"Yeah, I know."

The pain was fading, and so was the world. "Blood in the water," Elei muttered, his body light, made of air, floating.

"You spilled a great deal of it into the fountain, fe. So if that's what Rex wanted, you can relax now."

_Relax_. Elei's vision blurred. He couldn't feel his body anymore. Talking was becoming hard. "I'm cold."

"Son of a bitch." Kalaes grabbed Elei's chin, forced it up. "We're going into hiding. We'll make it. Stay with me, fe. Stay with me!" His dark eyes swam in Elei's vision.

"I can't," Elei tried to say, but wasn't sure he made it.

Chapter 25

Despite her intense focus on avoiding missiles from the now activated watchtower as they flew out of the citadel, Hera felt the waves of tension radiating off Kalaes who sat in the back seat with Elei. Worse still, she knew why.

"How bad is it?"

Kalaes said nothing. His silence presaged nothing good. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw his dark head, bent over Elei. He kept pressure on Elei's chest and side and avoided her gaze. The younger boy's face was ashen and blood had dried in a black crust on his lips and cheek. Dammit, he could easily pass for dead.

That was not acceptable. Hera hated the way her chest constricted at the thought of Elei dying. She considered her options. She'd visited Bone Tower before and knew the routes in the mountains. Behind them, a pursuit squadron of _seleukids_ was assembling. The distraction offered by the other Undercurrent aircars could only do so much.

Time to say goodbye, sisters.

Accelerating, she set the course north and sent the small aircar down slippery dirt roads between hamlets and abandoned mines.

"We have to find a hospital," she said. "He'll need blood transfusion, at the very least. I know a place in Teos, at the northern coast."

"Fine," Kalaes said, his voice hoarse. Hera wanted to comfort him but was not sure how.

Nunet's snakes.

"Keep him warm." When he said nothing, she felt a strange urge to fill the silence. "Put pressure on the wounds, make sure he does not bleed out." She winced at her sharp tone. Maybe silence was not such a bad idea after all. "Hold on," she muttered. "I'll lose our tails."

Snapping her mouth shut, she swerved into a narrow pass between shiny peaks and took a path just wide enough for the aircar to bear down toward the northern plain.

The Fleet was after them, and Rex was already in the water. Whether that would change anything or everything, she had no idea. Survival was now in her hands once more, and she had to save Kalaes and Elei, take them out of danger's path.

For the first time, she did not care about bringing down the Gultur, destroying them, or knowing how the world came into existence.

Not while her people were in danger.

* * *

A small hand fit into his and tugged. "Look at me."

Gray eyes. A pouting mouth. "Poena." Water rippled. A bird whistled. "Am I asleep, then?"

"In a way." She cocked her head to the side.

He gave this some thought. No reason to beat about the bush. "Am I dead?"

She shook her head, ringlets of golden hair flying. "You are close."

_Close_. "I remember you." Suddenly the memory was there. "On Ost. Albi took care of you, but you..." _You died_. _Too sick. Too fragile. Telmion took you away._

She leaned over him, her lips touched his cheek, soft like flower petals. "I remember you, too."

"But if you're dead, then maybe so am I."

Poena smiled. "Not this time. Wake up. She's here."

"Who?" he reached after her, but Poena was gone, a puff of smoke. He gasped and drew back.

Wake up.

Opening his eyes was like pushing at a wall. His lids felt glued down. He peeled them open, ever so slowly, and slitted his eyes against the too-bright light.

A shadow leaned over him, black against a backwash of blinding radiance. His eyes stung and watered. He waited for his sight to clear.

A woman's face. Her flowing black hair framed her face like a fine mist.

"Elei."

Moving like a big cat, graceful and dangerous, she sat down on the bed, jolting him a little. She raised a hand to his cheek. A name came to his lips and he knew it to be hers.

"Hera..."

Her smile hung like a star in the dark. " _Sen_. How are you feeling?"

His body was strangely numb; no pain, no feeling, though his chest felt heavy. Her concern filled him with warmth. "Fine."

"You're pumped full with painkillers." Her eyes glittered. "You can do this, Elei."

He frowned, wondered what she was talking about. "Okay."

"You have two broken ribs, but the bullets hit nothing vital, though you lost a lot of blood. You're a lucky man."

In the golden haze that filled his mind, he knew she was right. "Yes."

"Elei." Her scent of sweet fruit made his mouth water. "Did the parasite, did Rex tell you to find the fountain?"

"Poena." He licked his dry lips. "Said I should. And I agreed."

"You agreed?" She leaned closer, her dark eyes intent. "You knew what would happen at the fountain?"

He nodded. "It scared me." He tried to smile, to lighten the mood. He didn't like the sheen of sadness in her eyes.

She leaned back. "Do you want to know what happened after you spilled your blood into the water?"

He watched a light entering her gaze and her lips tilt again, and he nodded. "Yes."

"At first nothing. Kalaes and I thought... We thought we'd been wrong. We thought we'd lost you, and in vain." A tear rolled down her cheek, so bright. "Then the system broke down in certain towns. An epidemic was reported among the Gultur, filling their hospitals."

"I don't understand."

"Most Gultur fell sick, although some worse than others. Some were affected worse or simply faster. A message was issued from Dakru City, reporting that the Council decided to enter official discussions with the population, in an attempt to improve living conditions. You..." She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her words. "You did it, Elei. You're changing our world. You did it, with your blood in the water."

He shook his head, slowly, unable to grasp what she was saying. These convoluted words sounded a lot like something Poena would say. He heard a giggle, and saw the girl peek at him from the side of the bed. He reached for her, and she stuck out her tongue to him. "Poena..."

Water closed over his head and rocks pressed his legs. Panic made him struggle, but he was trapped deep down. He was unable to surface.

A woman sat across from him, crimson blooming on her pale blouse, and he held the gun still pointed at her. Her head was turned away, her hair was a burnished red. "You killed me. You're tearing down my world."

He shook his head, his chest tight. "I had to."

She turned around and she had Pelia's face. "Elei, I just wanted to say..."

He screamed but no sound came. He lowered his gun. Hot tears coursed down his cheeks. He'd shot her. He'd killed her. "No. Don't leave."

Pelia smiled. "Just wanted to say good luck. The Gultur will come after you for this, hunt you down. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, son."

The light was sucked out of the room, sucked into her eyes. She regarded him, somber and beautiful, until she faded.

His eyes fluttered open. The pale light of morning fell through the window like a rain of knives. He winced; a headache he didn't know he had asserted itself, stabbing the back of his eyes.

Pain erupted in his middle and he curled on his side. Gods, that hurt. The pain radiated down his sides and legs, up his spine to his shoulders, wrapped around his chest and stomach. Was he dying? Dying from the onslaught of Rex, that was strong enough to control Regina, the goddess of parasites.

He groaned, his breath coming in short gasps. Cold and heat flashed through his body, and shivers racked his frame. _Diediediedie_.

"Elei." Hands turned him on his back and pulled blankets up to his chin, tucking him in. Kalaes sat next to him. "You can fight this. You must. Don't let it kill you, do you hear?"

Elei breathed out in relief. He wouldn't die alone. "Too strong." _The parasite_. Played him like a puppet.

"Telmion's fighting back. So are a couple other parasites you're carrying around. Here, drink this."

He gulped down an acid liquid that brought tears to his eyes. "What's this for?" His teeth chattered.

"Makes telmion stronger so it can fight Rex."

_Pissing great_. Elei wanted to laugh till he rolled on the floor. The one parasite that had almost killed him as a child was now his only chance to live.

"Hera? Where is she?"

"Went to rest. She's been checking on you, you know." Kalaes winked.

_What in all the hells?_ "Why?"

"I think she kinda likes you, fe."

"Hera?" Elei shook his head at Kalaes' idiotic suggestion, then stopped when his stomach roiled. He remembered a dream with her. She was worried and sad, and was telling him the Gultur were falling sick. Dreams were weird things. "Hera doesn't care about me, just... Shut up."

Kalaes snorted. "Whatever you say."

The doubt made him want to ask again — maybe the dream hadn't been just a dream, but he was scared to know what else was true. "And Maera?"

Kalaes' mouth thinned. "Gultur hospital."

Elei nodded. So she was alive. The pain intensified, needles of fire jabbing inside his spine, every muscle and organ cramping, and he clutched the bedsheets in his fists, groaning.

"Hey, look what you've done," Kalaes grumbled. "No wonder you're in pain, fe. Wait."

A sting in his hand. "What's that?"

"Fluids and some pretty strong painkillers. You knocked the needle out, and the bullet wounds are just starting to heal."

Kalaes taped the needle back in place and leaned back.

The pain receded. Drowsy, Elei blinked at the older boy. Kalaes' dark eyes looked huge in his gaunt face and the lines of his tattoo were like scars etched in his cheek. He reeked of _ama_ cigarette smoke. "You should get some sleep, Kal. You look like shit."

"Yeah." He sounded even worse than he looked. His voice creaked like a rusty pipe. "Not as bad as you, though." He rubbed his eyes and pushed his two braids behind his ear irritably. Then his lips quirked and he winked. "But Hera doesn't seem to mind how banged up you look. She resisted your charming personality for as long as she could, fe, but in the end she had to give in."

_Hilarious_. "Does she really visit me?"

"Yeah, all the time. She sometimes stays the night, too. You have nightmares, you know."

Elei rolled his head to the side. He felt as if made of glass, about to break. Nightmares. Dreams. "I dreamed I shot myself and fell into a fountain. That I carried a parasite that would control Regina."

"You did. You do."

"I shot..." He swallowed hard. _A woman, crimson blooming on her pale blouse and the gun in his hand, his ears still ringing_. "I shot a Gultur."

"Nekut, head of the Gultur police. In the police station."

Elei's pulse leaped in his throat and stomach like a trapped animal. "Did I kill her?"

"Hells if I know." Kalaes shook his head. "They haven't breathed a word to the press about it."

"Kalaes?" Elei's fingers curled in the cool sheets. "What happened? After I fell in the water, after you and Hera got me out of Bone Tower. What did Rex do?"

"About time you knew, too. It was your blood in the water, after all, wasn't it? All that blood..." Kalaes shivered and shook his head. "Well, for several days we didn't know. Your life was hanging on a thread, fe. I didn't care about the Gultur, whether they lived or died or even started a new race. Then..." His eyes narrowed. "Then people started talking, saying the Gultur had fallen sick. Helicopters swarmed the sky, transporting them to their hospitals. Control slackened in the cities, workers went on strike at the factories. Representatives of Gultur came out to talk to the people. They said something had changed about them, something in their eyes, in the way they spoke. The Gultur wanted to talk to our leaders, to meet with the Undercurrent."

"Shit. And you believed them?" Elei thought his heart might find a way up his throat.

"I don't know. The Undercurrent hasn't agreed to meet with them yet." Kalaes nodded. "They're waiting."

Elei shuddered. "Are the Gultur really nicer now?"

"Yeah. Well, some of them seem to be, at any rate."

"And what happens now?"

"No clue. Not all Gultur are affected. Not all of them are sick. Hera says it will take time to know if one of the two parasites will dominate the other, or if they'll reach a balance. But the main thing is that it worked, fe. Your half-assed plan worked."

"What plan?" He'd never had one, apart from spilling his blood into the water of the fountain.

Kalaes chuckled.

_He thinks I'm joking_. "And now what?"

Kalaes pressed three fingers to the parallel lines tattooed on his cheek, his gang symbol, then pressed them to Elei's cheek. He withdrew his hand, his face serious. "You heal and come home with me."

"Home." Elei swallowed past a knot in his throat. Damned painkillers, made him weak. Made him want to cry. He wouldn't. "You said you take no strays."

"For you I'm thinking of making an exception." Kalaes ruffled Elei's hair and his eyes held pain. "Come on, kid. You can do it. You're strong."

Kalaes had stuck with him all the way. Kalaes hadn't put the fate of the islands above him, like Pelia had. He'd been right about Kalaes all along.

"The parasites." He looked away, not wanting Kalaes to see his crumbling face. "The ones inside me. Can we get rid of them?"

"Too late for that, fe. It'd kill you. Better let them fight it out, decide on a new balance."

"So we'll never find out what I'm really like beneath them all, huh?"

Kalaes snorted. "You worried about that? You're unlike anyone I've ever met. No need to get rid of the parasites to know that."

Elei bit his lip, wondering what exactly that meant. He glared at Kalaes, but his eyes were closing. He probably didn't look threatening enough, because Kalaes grinned. Hera liked him, and Kalaes looked happy. When he got better, they'd go home.

Maybe Pelia hadn't planned to inject him with the deadliest parasite of the seven islands. Maybe that was why she'd said she was sorry. Yet, maybe she'd planned to send him to Kalaes all along. Because Kalaes cared.

And those things were worth a battle or two and all the pain in the world.

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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

A few quasi-scientific notes

Although they may sound like pure fantasy, the parasites described in this novel are based in part on real life parasites. I do not intend to write a diatribe on parasites, neither am I a biologist, so I will just say what I want to say very briefly:

Parasites fascinate me, they are indeed very fantastical creatures. Mostly they cause illnesses and death, but some are useful and we humans have coexisted with them from the beginning of our existence. If you are interested in reading about parasites but don't want a technical book, I highly recommend the following book:

Parasite Rex, by Carl Zimmer (<http://carlzimmer.com/books/parasiterex/index.html>)

In case you are wondering if a parasite can really create a race of women who reproduce by parthenogenesis, i.e. cloning themselves, read about the _Wollbachia_ (<http://serc.carleton.edu/microbelife/topics/wolbachia/index.html>). If you just type the name in google, you will get plenty of sites.

If you wonder if it is a good idea to control a parasite by introducing another, I admit I don't have an example – but consider this: in ecology, if a species is introduced in an environment where it has no enemies, it will take over the environment and destroy it. Efforts have been made to control such invasive species by introducing another species. Therefore, I do think that it is a possibility. You can check on the internet about _invasive species_ or _assisted dispersion_ to read more about the topic.

Regarding parasites attracting each other or attracting their hosts, read for instance about the _Toxoplasma gondii_ – parasite we humans often get from cats. Studies have shown that when rats get infected with it, instead of avoiding cats and places cats frequent (marked by cat urine), they actively seek them out. In effect, they seek to be eaten, so that they can pass the parasite to the cats where it will continue its life cycle. Read _Parasite Rex_ mentioned above for many examples of behavior-modifying parasites.
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)

**Camo** : camouflage tarp (to cover aircars not to be detected from the air)

**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)

**Heavenway** : a raised highway

**Hoverbarge** : a large sort of aircar (hovercraft) for transport

**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 aircraft (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

**Surin** : isolating film used wrapped around dakron cubes when used in gadgets such as guns (dakron has some toxicity)

**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.

**Wavebreaker** : here, the term is used by the Gultur to refer to their patrol boats – a go-fast boat (I imagine it like a 2010 Hacker-Craft Triple cockpit Runabout)

Parasites (all are made-up but based on real-life parasites)

**Aioran flukes** : like all parasitic flatworms, these flukes infect humans when these eat undercooked or raw, infected meat

**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** : 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** : 'queen' in Latin (here: name of the parasite which has created the race of the Gultur)

**Rex** : 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** : a pathogenic fungal infection, causing snakeskin, and with the side effects of vomiting and fever which in most cases lead to dehydration

**Trieter** : like with the bot-fly, the egg of trieter is deposited in an open lesion by a fly, and the larva grows in the skin until it bursts out as a fly – unless a doctor suffocates it and takes it out.

**Urion** : fluke-lie worms

Names of persons and places

**Albi** : from Latin 'albus' ('white') – the woman who raised Elei

**Elei** (Eles): Indo-European root meaning 'bend'. Eles is derived (independently from Elei) from the ancient Greek word 'Eleos' ('mercy')

**Fia** : short form of 'Sophia' (Greek for 'wisdom')

**Hera** : ancient Greek goddess whose name means 'the lady'

**Iliathan** : made-up name inspired from the word 'Iliad'

**Kalaes** : another form of writing 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.

**Kesh** : made-up name

**Maera** : an ancient Greek nymph. Her name means 'teacher, guide'

**Nekut** : Indo-European for 'hanged' – she is the Commander of the Gultur Police

**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

**Poena** : Greek goddess of vengeance and retribution –a girl visiting Elei's dreams

**Shof** : made-up name - she is a girl who meets Elei early in the story

**Sobek** : ancient Egyptian god (god of water who has the form of a crocodile)

**Tau** : short for 'Taurius' ('of the bull') – also the letter 'T' in the Greek alphabet – he is a street-boy who meets Elei early in the story

**Timmy** : nickname for Timmus (made-up name)

**Zea** : made-up name

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 town names and their origin is not really known (** Teos, Tisis, Akmon, Krisia, Sestos, Baris, Pydna **), except for:**

Artemisia (town of Artemis – the Greek version of the goddess Diana)

Bone Tower (because of its white towers)

Dakru City (capital of Dakru)

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. Her stories can be found in Alienskin magazine, Lorelei Signal, the Shine Journal, Encounters Magazine, and Bards and Sages ezine. She is also an author for MuseItUp Publishing where you can find her YA Urban Fantasy novella _Dioscuri_.

Here is the link to Chrystalla's writing blog where you can find short stories, samples and link to other longer works:

Blog: http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Chrystalla-Thoma/117863861560579

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REX CRESTING

Book Two of Elei's Chronicles

Still recovering at a hospital on the north coast of Dakru, Elei is convinced that his part in bringing down the Gultur is over. Rex has infected the other race and their dictatorial system is starting to collapse. Not every Gultur, though, has been affected, and on top of that, inside Elei's body, Rex has matured and goes through another transformation. Elei isn't sure he can survive Rex's new strength — but that is the least of his worries, as the Gultur descend on him again.

REX: EQUILIBRIUM

Book Three of Elei's Chronicles

With a map that leads underground and the hope of toppling the Gultur regime, Elei and his companions seek a weapon to tip the balance of power. But unrest within the resistance means that this time they're on their own, and, as if crossing a world torn by war while keeping Rex under control wasn't enough, Elei fears that before the end Alendra might break his heart.

Book Four of Elei's Chronicles — coming Summer 2013

REX: AFTERMATH

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 join in the attack on Dakru City, while Hera and Sacmis take on the opposite front, in a final attempt to bring peace. Meanwhile, Elei's attraction to Alendra is growing, and the signals he receives are confusing. What did Alendra mean by her kiss, and what will she do when she sees the whole of him?

If you want to know how Hera took the mortals' side:

A novelette set in the world of Rex Rising

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.

If you want to know how Mantis met Kalaes and Pelia:

A short story set in the world of Rex Rising

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).

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. Her stories can be found in Alienskin magazine, Lorelei Signal, the Shine Journal, Encounters Magazine, and Bards and Sages ezine. She is also an author for MuseItUp Publishing where you can find her YA Urban Fantasy novella Dioscuri.

Here is the link to Chrystalla's writing blog where you can find short stories, samples and link to other longer works:

Blog: http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

Other links:

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:

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