Scattered Ashes

by Megg Jensen

  Torsten didn’t trust his sister not to interfere. Leila wanted to destroy everything Torsten was fighting for. She had only ever known death. First, their parents. Then Mellok and Andessa. Half the townspeople of Hadar. Many of the defenders. No wonder she assumed the worst of everyone. Until he could get through to her, find the caring little girl he'd once known, Torsten would have to keep everything he held dear far away from Leila.

  Torsten opened the pack. The dragzhi slithered out onto the dirt floor, then formed into a humanoid shape.

  She cannot be healed.

  "What do you mean?" Torsten demanded. Despite Rell’s shallow breathing, she seemed completely healthy.

  The dragzhi inside her conflicts with her body's ability to heal itself. No matter what you do, she will not heal.

  "Then what do you propose?" Torsten asked, anger bubbling in his gut. "I won't let her live like this."

  The dragzhi slithered closer to Rell, hovering over her body. It swayed back and forth for a moment, then returned to Torsten.

  My brother has said it will leave her if given another host. It asked for your body.

  "Fine." Torsten stood. "Let it have me. If it will allow her to heal, then I'll gladly do it."

  You have forgotten, human. When it leaves her body, she will die. Unless it is extracted by my brethren.

  Torsten sat again, defeated. He had forgotten. "I can't just leave her here."

  You must. Until the ship is ready to fly, she must remain hidden from your murderous people.

  "How long will it take to retrofit one of our ships with your tech?" Torsten asked.

  Not long, depending on the skill of your engineers.

  Torsten had to convince Seward to listen to him.

  You could be in space in a matter of days. Of course, there are risks. If you stumble upon the evil dragzhi before you find those in my faction, you will face resistance. Humans are no match for the dragzhi. All of you will die.

  "Or we remain on Phoenix and die. Sooner or later the dragzhi will come back. They will be looking for the fire dragzhi." Torsten rubbed his temples. The only chance he had was to repair the ship and find this dragzhi's brethren first. "What are the odds of success?"

  Poor.

  "We still have to try." Torsten reached out, taking Rell's hand in his. "I'll do anything if there's a chance of saving Rell."

  The silver dragzhi melted into a small puddle and slithered back into Torsten’s pack.

  "I promise I won't let you die, Rell," Torsten whispered.

  Torsten waited with Rell until Tatsuru arrived. She still hadn't awoken, but her chest continued to rise and fall. At least he wasn’t taking her body to the catacombs. He couldn't handle that after learning what happened to his mother. He refused to let the same dragzhi kill two of the most important women in his life.

  The door opened, and Tatsuru stuck his head in. "Is it safe?"

  "Yeah. Come in. Close the door behind you quietly. We don't want to attract any attention." Torsten motioned for Tatsuru to take the chair next to Rell's bed. "Did you bring medicine with you?"

  Tatsuru pulled a device out of the pack hanging from the crook of his arm. "This should mend her broken ribs. If not, I brought painkillers and some old strips of fabric. We grounders sometimes had to improvise when medicine wasn't available. I can set her ribs until they heal on their own."

  "Thank you," Torsten said. "I appreciate everything you've done for Rell."

  "She saved us from the first attack by the dragzhi. Her prayers kept them away." Tatsuru pulled the strips of fabric out of his bag and began tying the ends together to form one long strip. "I know you defenders don't believe in gods, but I do."

  "The Menelewen Dored—” Torsten started, but stopped when Tatsuru held up a hand.

  "Those are the gods of this planet. I mean the gods over all. The ones who look at us only as tiny pawns in a game we will never understand. You can give the gods names, but in the end, all that matters is believing in them and courting their favor. I believe in such things, even if they are not true. It brings me comfort and hope in turbulent times."

  Torsten pursed his lips. He couldn't argue with that. He wished he believed in a higher power to calm him during the next few days. Instead, he would have to work feverishly with the engineers to recover the tech from the dragzhi ship and find a way to make it work with their human tech. Then he'd have to sneak Rell onto the ship before it took off. The hardest part would be hijacking the ship, and taking Rell to the peaceful dragzhi so they could remove the liquid alien from her body without killing her. Yeah, he needed an all-powerful god to make it all better.

  "I know you'll care for her, and I thank you." Torsten eyed Tatsuru’s second pack. "What's in there?"

  "Food. Drink. I plan on staying with Rell until she's well enough to move about on her own. Only then will I leave and find more food for us. I am prepared to be here for a week or more, if need be."

  "Did Rutger tell you to keep this a secret?" Torsten hated asking him to lie. Tatsuru was an honest, open man.

  "If I do my job properly, there is no one to keep the secret from. Rell and I will remain here until you are ready to do whatever it is you're planning. I have heard how the defenders talk about her. They don't know her as you and I do. If they did, they wouldn't say such things." Tatsuru waved a medical device over Rell's abdomen.

  The device beeped three times, then flashed an error light.

  "Just as I feared," Tatsuru said, setting it down. "It won't heal her ribs. I will have to bind her the old-fashioned way. Don't worry, Torsten, she will recover."

  Torsten wanted to believe Tatsuru, but he knew better. Rell wouldn't heal. The only chance she had was up in the stars. Torsten had to act fast.

  "Thank you. I'll be back as soon as I can," Torsten said.

  "I know you will. She won't die under my care." Tatsuru waved a hand. "Now, shoo. Do what you must."

  Torsten thanked the man again, then left. He had considered sitting over Rell a while longer, but knew it would only delay the inevitable. Time was against him. He needed to return to the tower, and somehow convince the others to do as the dragzhi advised.

  Scrambling up the stairs and through the waterfall, Torsten emerged in the dark of night. He crept through the tall grass, taking care not to turn an ankle on the trek back. There was no time for an injury now.

  It wasn't long before he was back at the tower. Torsten rapped on the door. It quickly opened, letting him in. The guards slammed the doors shut behind him.

  "You're the last one tonight. This is getting ridiculous," one of the guards said. The other grunted in agreement.

  "No one else is coming through. Tatsuru is sitting vigil by the bodies for three nights, as is the custom of the buried. It was the least we could do to honor their lives," Torsten said.

  The second guard grunted. "Honoring the lives of criminals. What a joke. The others are right about you."

  Torsten stalked to the lift. He didn't care to hear what the others had said about him. As the lift doors closed, Torsten imagined how they'd appreciate all he'd done for them once they returned to space. Then they could finally set a course for Earth and leave this god-forsaken planet behind them.

  After the dragzhi healed Rell. She came first. Always. The rest would wait. If one life was worth so little, what was the point in saving all of the others?

  The lift played a simple tune when it arrived at Torsten's floor.

  Torsten trudged into his room. He set his pack down carefully and opened it. The dragzhi slid out, taking on the shape of a human. Its silver features flowed seamlessly.

  Sleep. In the morning, you must find a way to leave Phoenix.

  24

  Torsten knocked on the library door early the next morning. Archer was already inside, her nose buried in a book. Torsten had to laugh. It wasn't often he'd see someone reading an actual book. Everyone always had their shoulders hunched over devices. Paper was a luxury on Phoenix, and any paper book wa
s one that had come with them from Earth. They were lovingly preserved in the library. It was nice to see Archer still read them.

  Archer looked up, smiled, and waved. The door buzzed and swung open, letting Torsten in.

  "Hi!" Archer's smile quickly faded. "I heard about Rell. I'm so sorry."

  Torsten was surprised word had traveled so quickly through the tower. Everyone knew a few hostile buried had been killed, but he didn't realize their identities had been revealed. "How did you know?"

  "I'm the librarian. It's my job to have all of the information." Archer stood, resting a hand on Torsten's shoulder. "I know she was special to you. I'm sorry it had to end like that."

  Torsten put on a sad face. Even though he'd come to think of Archer as his friend, he had to hide the truth from her, too. Rutger and Malia were the only two people in the tower who knew, and he intended to keep it that way.

  "I couldn't believe it, either." Torsten attempted a brave face. He was terrible at acting. Leila would have known he was faking immediately, which is why he'd purposely avoided her.

  "What can I do for you? We've discovered the Hamdal tablets were missing and analyzed your mother’s bone. What are you going to surprise me with today?" Archer cocked her head to the side.

  She was pretty with her long, straight black hair and deep-set eyes. Torsten wondered why she'd remained single when all of the other defenders seemed to have paired off. Maybe they thought she was just as odd as he was since her interests lay more in books than fighting. It certainly hadn't helped Torsten make any friends in the tower.

  "Well, let's say I finally cracked the code to getting dragzhi tech to work for us. Unfortunately, we don't have any ships in decent shape. All but one was destroyed during the last battle, and that one is nearly beyond repair." Torsten tapped a table with his forefinger.

  "I'm not sure how I can help with that, Torsten. I'm not a mechanic. I'm sure we have books that teach those sorts of things, but I think our engineers probably know all of the material." Archer sat down at her desk, pushed her glasses higher on her nose, and began typing on her computer. She swung the screen around so Torsten could see it, too, tapping the top entry. "This is a manual on ship repair. It's thousands of pages long. Would that help?"

  "That's not quite what I'm looking for,” Torsten said. "I had an idea when I woke up this morning. Is it possible the shuttles from the original crash are still intact? Maybe we could retrofit them."

  Archer bit her lip. "Torsten, you know everything was destroyed in the crash."

  "I know you have secret vaults, and I know there's more in them than you've said." Torsten leaned in. "Please, Archer. If you know something, you have to help."

  "Even if there were such a thing, it couldn't fit everyone on Phoenix. Only a few could go. Those shuttles weren't made for long-range journeys, either." Archer kept her eyes on the screen, her fingers frozen over the keyboard.

  "Archer," Torsten said softly. "Please."

  Archer’s eyes locked on his. "I found out something last year when I was going through some of my mother's old files. Until yesterday, when we analyzed your mother’s bone, I tried not to think much about them. I had hoped it was just ramblings."

  "About our parents?"

  Archer nodded. She reached under her desk. A moment later, the doors to the library locked, the tumblers loudly clunking into place. "What I'm about to tell you can never leave this room. You can't tell anyone. If you do, we're all in danger."

  Torsten slumped into the chair across from Archer. "Tell me."

  Archer removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Our parents were friends a long time ago. Apparently they felt the war with the dragzhi wouldn't end unless someone tried to negotiate with them. It was something our people hadn't tried in years. They wondered if the dragzhi were tired of the fighting, too.

  "Our parents brought their concerns to the commanders, but they were rebuffed. Your parents were told to go back to their simple lives. My mother was told if she ever tried to interfere in the war again, she would be kicked out of the tower. She was worried about raising me in Hadar, so she told them she'd obey."

  "She didn't, did she?" Torsten asked.

  "No, she didn't." Archer sighed. "They formed a resistance cell. Your parents faked their deaths. So did Mellok's parents. And my mother. They were determined to find a way to find a compromise with the dragzhi. They did it to make Phoenix a better place for their children."

  Torsten sat back in the chair. He'd replayed his parents' murders in his head over and over since the day it happened. Even though his counselors had advised him to redirect his thoughts, he couldn’t.

  "They pretended they were murdered to protect Leila and me?" Torsten choked back tears. "Didn't they have any idea what that would do to us?"

  Archer reached out, taking Torsten's hand in hers. "They were doing what they thought was best for everyone. No one would question a murder scene. If they had simply disappeared, the tower wouldn't have stopped looking for them. They needed to make it as real as possible. And what better witnesses than their children?"

  “When they were murdered, the killers took their bodies, and they were never recovered. If they faked their deaths…” Tired of the secrets and lies, Torsten looked up at Archer, ready to tell her the truth. That Rell was alive. That he, too, had participated in a cover-up to avoid further scrutiny.

  "Oh, Torsten," Archer said. "I know you've had a horrible time. I'm sorry I had to lay this on you, too."

  "Why didn't you tell me before?" Torsten asked. If he'd known sooner, before traveling with Rell to the dragzhi ship, he would have asked his mother different questions. Maybe he could have spoken to the real her, the part of her not controlled by the dragzhi, for just a moment.

  "I barely knew you. I didn't know if I could trust you until recently. If you had turned me in, I don't know what Commander Bartok would have done to me." Archer stood, making her way around the desk. "I can trust you now, Torsten."

  Archer reached down, wiping Torsten's tears with her thumb. "Come with me. There's two more shuttles. I can take you to them."

  Torsten followed her quietly through the stacks to the back of the room. It was the same place she'd taken him when they'd looked for the Hamdal tablets. But that room was far too small to hold shuttles.

  Archer laughed at the confusion in his eyes. "There's a lift inside the vault. It'll take us underground, to a place not many have ever seen. In fact, I don't think anyone else today knows it's there. The librarian has been the keeper of the information since the tower was built. Now that Commander Bartok is dead, I'm the only one with the knowledge. You'll be the second."

  Torsten followed Archer through the room, stepping around the shelves filled with artifacts. In the back of the room, there was a solid metal wall. Archer jumped, her hand just missing a crack high in the wall.

  "Can you boost me up?" Archer asked. "I forgot to grab the stool. The hand sensor is hidden behind that crack. There's just enough space for it to read my prints."

  Torsten knelt, lacing his fingers together to form a cradle. Archer stepped into it, and he lifted her high enough so she could wave her hand slowly over the crack. A faint red light kissed the tips of her fingers, then quickly disappeared.

  "Clever," Torsten said as he carefully lowered her to the ground.

  "Yeah. Even if someone managed to find this room, what are the chances they'd realize there's more to it?" Archer smiled as the wall parted. She stepped into the lift, Torsten entering behind her.

  The door closed, and a small emergency light came to life.

  "There's only enough electricity running to this just to power the basics. No one would notice the use as anything more than a slight power surge. The people who designed this portion of the tower were very clever," Archer said.

  Torsten couldn't stop thinking about his parents’ deception. He was doing the same now, pretending Rell was dead until he could get what he needed from the tower. The difference was he wasn�
��t ruining anyone’s life by doing so. His parents’ intentions may have been good, but their methods bordered on cruel.

  Archer must have noticed his distraction. She rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Really. Maybe there was a better way to tell you the truth without upsetting you so much."

  Torsten let out a laugh. "No, I'm pretty sure there's no easy way to tell a kid his parents used him to stage their murder."

  "I'm glad we've found each other," Archer said, looking down at her shoes.

  Torsten could almost swear a blush had spread across her brown cheeks.

  "I don't have many friends. You just lost one yesterday. I heard the two of you were, um, interested in each other." She looked up at him. "Is that true? Were you and that buried girl involved?"

  Though it would pain him, it would be easier to move forward with his plan if he minimized his feelings for Rell. Otherwise the others would wonder why he didn’t mourn her more deeply.

  "Not really," Torsten said with a shrug.

  Torsten’s instinct was to say yes. He thought back to the times he and Rell had kissed. The intense relationship they'd had since the moment they'd met. Everything had cooled off since the battle. Torsten thought she'd lost interest in him, but now he knew it was all due to the dragzhi's influence. He loved Rell. Whether or not she’d ever return those feelings was a mystery.

  Archer looked up at him again, her cheeks pink. Before anything else could happen, the lift dinged, and the door opened.

  Archer stepped out, motioning Torsten to follow her.

  They were far underground. Archer flipped a switch, and lights sprang to life. They stood in a hangar filled with fragments of the original ship they had taken from Earth, hundreds of years ago.

  25

  Rell lay on the bed, exhausted. Every breath felt like a stab to the chest. How many had she taken since Markel fell on her, breaking her ribs? Hundreds? Thousands?