Within Ash and Stardust

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “Good.” The Ander ran the backs of his fingers absently over his jawline and the hint of dark stubble growing there. Another reminder that they’d been on the run … and that Trystan didn’t look much better.

  He barely resisted the urge to reach up and feel the shadow on his own face, already detesting the fact that it was there. It was unbecoming of a Zane to allow his appearance to be unkempt. He needed to remain distinctly polished at all times.

  Which was all nonsense his father had ingrained in him. Yet, even knowing that, Trystan couldn’t help the anxiety that came whenever he thought about how he hadn’t shaved. How there was a scuff on the tip of his right boot, and how the tear at the bottom of his shirt seemed to be staring at him judgingly.

  “He must have been planning out this Clean Slate program for a while now. Only, he’s just now putting it in motion, and we’ve given him a reason to use it on the Basilissa.” Delaney began pacing. “If the public found out—”

  “There are very few of us working on this,” Gibus interrupted. “And from what I saw, I don’t think I was the only one who was a prisoner. If personal bodily harm didn’t work, threats were made against our families. No one on this project would dare risk leaking anything.”

  “So we get the evidence ourselves.” When they all turned to her, Delaney shrugged a single shoulder like it was no big deal. “We’ve gone through practically all the information you guys have collected on the Tars the past few years and come up with nothing. Trystan wasn’t able to get his hands on anything in Carnage, and for all we know, proof of that doesn’t even exist. But this. We know where everything about Clean Slate is being held.”

  Before any of them could speak for or against her suggestion, she was turning to the Sutter.

  “Did the Rex mention anything about Earth?”

  His father had started work on this long before discovering Olena was dead. Actually, even before he’d come up with the plan to betroth the two of them. Which meant he couldn’t have intended merely to use this as a last resort, should the betrothal not go through. No, he had to be planning on using it whether or not he kept control of Vakar.

  Not for the first time since discovering all this, Trystan wondered how much his father had planned on revealing to him. Had he intended to keep it a secret up until the last possible moment? He’d never mentioned it before—that was for certain.

  And how was that, even? He had more control over the Kint army than his father did. They trusted him, were loyal to him, more so than a Rex who never bothered fighting among their ranks. The army might not even make up half of the Kint population—meaning the majority of people would side with his father simply because he was the Rex, and Trystan was only Zane—but few civilians were allowed into Carnage Castle.

  If there’d been any kind of word about this project, it should have found its way to Trystan’s ear. He’d always known that his hold wavered the closer to his father he got, but he’d still been foolishly under the assumption he’d held enough sway that the Tellers would have leaked the information, despite the Rex’s wanting it kept on lockdown.

  Apparently he’d overestimated himself. Part of him had always avoided going back home because his father was surrounded by those most loyal to him, but still. Perhaps he’d disengaged with Carnage too much.

  But he’d also never intended to overthrow his father. Even after finding out the Rex wanted to marry him off. Being that he was already the Zane, already held power, he’d just figured he’d wait it out. Once he was Rex, he could do as he pleased without having to worry about his father stepping in.

  Because as much as he hated the man, he was still his father.

  “He didn’t tell me anything specifically,” Gibus was answering Delaney’s question, and Trystan forced himself to concentrate and tune back in.

  “It’s safe to assume he’ll find a way to use this to his advantage on your planet as well,” Tilda said.

  “We should focus on stopping him on our planet first,” Trystan suggested. “If you only managed to get it working a few days ago, I don’t see how he could hope to use it on the Basilissa anytime soon. Let alone a political influence on Earth. He’d need to get ahold of them and implant fittings first. Besides, they don’t operate the same as we do; their planet isn’t run by merely two leaders. Even if he happened to get his hands on one, it wouldn’t matter. Our technology is more advanced, it’s true, but they have strong enough weapons that a full invasion would still take days, if not weeks, to accomplish. He wouldn’t attempt this so soon after gaining full rule over Xenith.”

  “You’re giving us weeks now?” Delaney smirked. “How sweet.”

  “I’ve realized humans have more tenacity than I previously gave them credit for,” he replied smoothly, shifting closer so their arms noticeably brushed.

  “Well, that’s gross.” Gibus made a face at the two of them and then, before Trystan could get angry, took a quick glance around the room. “Where’s Pettus? I figured he’d have joined us by now. Do you have him out on some crazy errand or something?” This last part he directed to Ruckus, who was back to actively glaring at the Zane. “If so, please tell me it’s for food. We haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I’m starving.”

  Delaney’s eyes went wide, but the Ander spoke before she got the chance.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Ruckus’s tone was accusatory, and Trystan gritted his teeth.

  “There wasn’t exactly a good opportunity for it while we were on the run, no.”

  “Tell me what?” Gibus frowned, but the fear in his eyes was apparent.

  Delaney stepped over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to gently lead him off to the side of the room. Her voice was soft as she explained comfortingly, and even though they’d moved too far and were speaking too low for Trystan to make out the Sutter’s response, it was obvious when he deflated in her hold that he wasn’t okay.

  She sunk down to the ground with him, easing onto her knees at his side as he sat. She whispered something, held him tightly, and let him cling to her.

  The whole ordeal reminded Trystan of the night she’d held him like that, when he’d first told her about his mother. How odd the sensation had been at first, yet how welcome.

  No one had ever comforted him like that until Delaney.

  For some reason, that made him feel more alone than he ever had.

  CHAPTER 17

  Delaney and the others were participating in something that apparently Tellers did whenever they lost a comrade. A method of honor created during the war. It was a small remembrance ceremony, though probably only because their presence needed to be kept secret.

  Pettus had been well-liked. There had to be a ton of people who wanted to honor his death. Maybe they already had, in their own way, when they’d found out the news.

  The mourners moved to a private sitting room, one with a large floor-to-ceiling window that let in lots of light. It sparkled against the rich green carpet, and flickered off the gold paint on the walls.

  Ruckus stood closest to the window, sunlight filtering in on him. In his hands, he held a piece of cloth. When he shifted it and began tearing strips off the bottom, Delaney recognized that it was from a Teller uniform. One of the thinner ones, which were sometimes worn beneath green vests or jackets.

  Once he’d gotten a piece of cloth free, he handed the shirt over to Gibus, on his right, and then began tying the strip around his right wrist. He murmured something under his breath as he did, lost in the moment and far away.

  Gibus followed suit, then handed the shirt to Verus. Julius and Shellus were next.

  Trystan was standing between Shellus and Delaney, a guest appearance that seemed to catch the rest of the party off guard. His spine was straight and stiff as he took the shirt and ripped a strip free.

  But when he brought the piece to his wrist, he hesitated. The Zane glanced up, over to Ruckus, and waited, silently seeking permission to continue.

  After a quiet moment Ruc
kus gave a curt nod, watching as Trystan secured the two ends around his left wrist and tied them together. As he did, he spoke the same words, though a little louder than the rest had.

  It wasn’t hard to catch on that it was for Delaney’s benefit.

  “Though you have returned to the stars from which you fell, you will travel with me always.” Trystan finished and passed the tattered shirt over to Delaney, who took it tentatively.

  “The words are a farewell.” Ruckus’s voice entered her head and she looked at him as she readied to rip a strip off. “We tie a strip of their clothing to the wrist of our nondominant hand, to avoid interfering with our fritzes, and after a week, wherever we are, we take it off and leave it. The extra days give us time to say good-bye, prepare for letting go.”

  It was sweet in a sad way, and made sense. During the war, they didn’t exactly have time for a big flashy ceremony. But they could get their hands on a shirt, or something that belonged to the deceased. She wondered what they did if they couldn’t find a clothing item. And what people’s wrists looked like after a large battle, where many were killed instead of just one or two.

  Were there other rules for that? A different way to honor the dead, or did they tie bits of material up to their elbows, carrying all those deaths with them?

  She understood leaving it behind after a week, too; at least, she was pretty sure she did. The person traveled with them for seven more days, living on somehow that way, hopefully getting farther from the place their life was lost. Then they were given someplace new to rest in the form of a piece of them, or their old belonging in actuality, being left behind.

  The always made sense, because even though they left behind the symbol, during their weeklong journey they’d somehow made peace. The memory of the person was carried on, as well as the memory of where that tiny bit of them had been left. A new memory, to wash away the recollection of their last dying moment.

  Delaney repeated the words that Trystan, and the rest of them, had said as she tied the cloth off. Once she was done, she handed the shirt back to Ruckus, who placed it on an end table at his back.

  “That’s it.” Ruckus sighed, but no one immediately broke away from the circle, all of them lost in their thoughts.

  The room was silent for a long while. Gibus seemed to be taking it the worst, with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. He kept crossing them over his chest, then uncrossing them, unsure how to stand and unable to hold still for longer than a few heartbeats.

  The Rex had to pay for all the pain he’d caused.

  Whatever it took to keep him from doing this to anyone else, Delaney would do it. There was so much more at stake here than her happiness, or even revenge for Pettus. The Rex needed to be stopped to protect all of those other people he’d had yet to hurt. The ones on Xenith and Earth alike.

  * * *

  AS BADLY AS they all wanted to pretend they could grieve forever, they couldn’t. The next morning Julius was sent to sneak Delaney and Ruckus through the hallway, and Sanzie met up with them on the way, with Shellus accompanying her. They were led to the study, where Tilda and Gibus were already waiting.

  They both looked up when the door opened, and the first waved at them to hurry inside.

  “The Sutter was filling me in on more details about this device,” the Basilissa said as soon as they were securely inside the room. “The Rex plans on creating a mobile one.”

  “It would make the chair obsolete,” Gibus elaborated.

  “How far away from that is he?” Ruckus asked, moving over to the desk where the two of them were standing. He crossed his arms, frowning at the possibility. He’d donned his old uniform this morning, the more formal of the two with the long sleeves, and the gold trim flashed a bit in the room’s bright lighting.

  “It’s hard to say,” Gibus told them. “Longer than previously expected, since I’m not there to help build it anymore.”

  “You’re just telling us about this now because…?” Trystan growled.

  “I was too busy explaining to your feeble minds how the machine worked before,” he snapped back, then blanched a little. “Apologies, Basilissa.” He glanced at Ruckus. “Ander.” Then Delaney. “Lissa.”

  When he pointedly left Trystan out, the Zane rolled his eyes. The move would have been laughable coming from him, under different circumstances.

  “How would you like to proceed?” Tilda asked them.

  “We should assume the Rex hasn’t yet done it.” Ruckus sighed. “But be cautious.”

  “Even if he hasn’t found a way to do it yet,” Trystan said, “he will. If we let that happen, we’ll have no chance of overthrowing him.”

  “We can’t wait around any longer,” Delaney agreed.

  Ruckus quirked a dark brow. “I wasn’t aware that’s what we were doing.”

  “You know what I mean.” She leaned her hip against the edge of the desk. “We’re out of time. We have to get into Carnage Castle now.”

  “Yes, but,” the Sutter said, shaking his head, “wouldn’t he have moved everything? Knowing that I’d escaped, he wouldn’t risk leaving all of that in the same location. I could lead anyone straight to it.”

  “Sure,” she agreed, “but this machine is huge, right? Too big to just move on a whim, especially now that his top Sutter has left the project. I think the risk of breaking or damaging it far outweighs the possibility that you’d be stupid enough to go back.”

  Ruckus tapped his fingers against the side of his arm in thought. “The Rex does think we’re either dead or we’ve run.”

  “Exactly,” Delaney said. “And the last place he’d expect you to go is here, when Kint still has control of the place.”

  “Even if he did,” Trystan joined in, “there’s no way my father would suspect Tilda would help out. She might harbor a fugitive, but actually plot against him? His arrogance wouldn’t allow him to foresee that.”

  “What about you?” Ruckus asked. “You rescued Gibus; I believe that qualifies as a statement. He knows you’re against him.”

  “He knows I’m upset,” Trystan corrected. “I made sure he believes that it’s because of Delaney’s death. He’ll consider this a tantrum—rare, coming from me, but hardly surprising given the circumstances.”

  “You don’t think he’s worried you’ll actually turn against him?” Delaney frowned. “He’s not taking you seriously.”

  “He never does.” He sighed, then turned back to the Basilissa. “Has he contacted you yet about Olena?”

  “No,” Tilda stated bitterly. “He has not sent a single word about it.”

  “Which means he still doesn’t know there’s a leak at Carnage.” That could work for them. Delaney couldn’t think of anyone, other than those currently in this room and Fawna back on the ship, who would lie to protect her. Yet that was exactly what someone had done by telling the Rex they’d seen her dead body. “Do you know anything else about this person?”

  “I don’t,” Tilda said. “I told you before, the message was encrypted. I don’t have any friends in Kint, especially not at the castle.”

  “You have spies,” Trystan argued, though he put it plainly, not the least bit upset by the possibility.

  Tilda held his gaze, but didn’t confirm anything.

  “Seriously?” He glanced around at the others, settling on the Ander. “Is that really true? You don’t have even one spy in the capital?”

  “We were in the middle of a peace treaty,” Ruckus said between gritted teeth.

  He scoffed. “I’ve had several embedded in your ranks since the moment the war ended.”

  “You—”

  “Really not the time,” Delaney said, stopping them before it could turn into a full-blown fight. “Back to me and my idea, please. Thank you. Between Trystan and Gibus, we should be able to narrow down the device’s location. Anywhere you think your father might have moved it,” she said to Trystan, then to Gibus, “and where it was before, on the off chance he left it there.”

&nb
sp; “All right,” Sanzie said from where she sat on the edge of the couch a bit farther from the rest of the group. “We’d still need a way to access it, and I doubt they’re going to let us walk through the front doors.”

  “I assume you have a way to get us inside the castle and avoid detection, Delaney?” Trystan said. “Otherwise you would not have brought it up.”

  “I do,” she agreed. “The largest threat is getting caught by your father, so, seems like the logical thing to do is get rid of the Rex first.”

  “Isn’t that the whole reason behind the plan?” Gibus asked.

  “She means remove him from the premises,” Tilda said, clearly picking up on what Delaney was thinking. “Preferably out of Carnage altogether.”

  “Yeah,” Delaney said, crossing her arms, “and as far away from it as possible, in case we trip an alarm or something.”

  “I can easily disable the alarm systems,” Trystan stated, and she didn’t bother explaining that wasn’t quite what she’d meant. Though it was good to know there would be legitimate alarms and that he could take care of them.

  “You’ve got loyalists inside the castle, don’t you?” Ruckus questioned the Zane then.

  “Not as many as I would like,” he admitted.

  “He has plenty outside the castle walls, however,” Gibus said. “I met a few of them on our way here. They helped us get a ship so we could ditch the car and make it here in a timely manner.”

  “My father is unaware of who stands by me,” Trystan continued, “but he does know I hold more sway over the army than he does. He’s careful about who he allows nearby, and that includes who he allows inside his home.”

  “But he won’t be there,” Delaney pointed out, “not if we’re successful, in any case. Could you sneak in some of your people then?”

  He cocked his head, thought it over. “I might be able to change the list—the one that contains all the Tellers’ names who work at the castle any given day of the week—to include a few extras. I can also easily hack into the system to allow them to enter from a side door. I’d need to get word out as soon as possible, though.”