Ghosts & Ashes

by F. T. Lukens

  The space between them charged with electricity, and the spark raised the fine hairs on Ren’s arms. He shivered, and it wasn’t only from the cold.

  Asher licked his lips. His green eyes were wide in the dying light, reflecting the broken moon and the ice on the water. “I don’t…” He took a breath. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “Honestly? No, and you don’t trust me either. But I trust my own judgment. You may not be the Ren I became friends when we were on this planet together, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.” Asher closed his eyes, as if in surrender. “Do it.”

  Ren threaded his fingers with Asher’s lax hand, their skin frigid. He closed his eyes, and pushed out with his power. Asher’s shoulder lit up in Ren’s mind. He saw a blueprint of machine and bone, of tech surrounded by flesh and sinew. In the hold of his star, Ren had rendered the mechanism inert, crippling Asher, his friend, the person for whom he held the most affection. Remorse threatened to drown him. Ren pressed closer, needing to convey his contrition. His lips rasped over the stubbled skin of Asher’s cheek in a whisper of a kiss. Asher’s body was a wall of heat and comfort, and when Ren pressed his cold lips to Asher’s jaw, he released his star.

  Asher’s gasp puffed against Ren’s cheek. He shook his hand free of Ren’s grip and reached up to splay against the back of Ren’s neck, holding him still.

  Other than that small gesture, Asher didn’t move, merely held Ren as they breathed, as they shared a moment by Ren’s childhood lake under the stars Ren used to dream about, with the gentle whispered hush of falling snow the only sound.

  “Thank you,” Asher said, quietly, after an eternity.

  At the words, Ren’s eyes filled. A lump lodged in his throat, and everything he had held back broke over him in a wave. He dropped his forehead to Asher’s shoulder and sobbed.

  Asher’s grip tightened while Ren shuddered apart.

  He didn’t let go.

  6

  Trudging back through the forest was a solemn process. With little light, Asher relied on Ren to guide him, and that required Asher to rest his hand on Ren’s shoulder. They didn’t speak, not after Ren, shy, embarrassed, and rubbing at his eyes, had hiccupped and pulled back from Asher’s embrace.

  Healing Asher’s shoulder and crying had been cathartic, and, though their relationship wasn’t what they’d once had, they were closer than they had been since leaving Mykonos all those weeks ago.

  Ren spied the flickering of flame up ahead, and they found Rowan holding a torch and wearing a sour expression.

  “Where the stars have you been?”

  “We’re fine, thanks,” Asher replied. He picked up one of the two packs at Rowan’s feet and slung it over his shoulder.

  Rowan huffed, opened her mouth—undoubtedly for a retort which included the word idiot—but paused. Her eyes widened as she saw Asher grasp the packs straps with both hands. She looked to Ren and back to Asher and her mouth pulled down at the corners.

  “Your shoulder—”

  “We’ll talk later,” Asher said, cutting her off. “We should find the others.”

  “This way,” Ren said. At a brisk walk, he followed the path from his home into the village. He didn’t wait for Asher; the closeness they had shared at the lake had evaporated in the face of Rowan’s quiet appraisal.

  Toward the village center, he found Ollie, bundled in a scavenged coat. The fabric stretched tight over his shoulders, and the buttons strained over Ollie’s chest.

  “Jakob’s over there, down that road. His house is standing and will be good shelter for the night.”

  “Lead the way,” Rowan said.

  Ren jumped, not realizing how close Rowan stood at his shoulder. Ren turned slightly and found Rowan and Asher flanking him. Their breaths puffed in soft clouds; their cheeks were flushed with cold. Flakes of snow clung to Asher’s golden eyelashes and framed the green of his eyes in the flickering shadows caused by Rowan’s makeshift torch.

  Ren spun back around and stared at Ollie’s back as he led them toward Jakob’s home.

  Ren knew where it was. He remembered it from when he was a child, when he and Liam had passed it while they played or completed chores. To young Ren, it had appeared enormous, like a mansion or a castle.

  Approaching it now, the house resembled a skeleton with its bone white columns broken and falling. The open front door was a maw. Scorch marks tattooed the shutters. The glass in the windows was broken. It had fared better than Ren’s humble home, but the family’s possessions were strewn all over the front porch and yard.

  Ren peered around the entranceway and noted the solid construction and the extra spaces that Ren’s home didn’t have. He turned a corner and found Jakob and Penelope dragging mattresses from the upstairs bedrooms into a den. A fire roared in a fireplace. Broken furniture had been pushed to the back wall. A pile of blankets rose in a corner, and another pile of clothes sat by the fire, warming. The room gave off a cozy, but intimidating, vibe. Ren wanted to sink into the nest of cushions closest to the fire and warm his bones, but he shuffled to a stop. He’d never been in Jakob’s social class, let alone in his home.

  Jakob dropped the mattress he dragged and greeted Ren with a lukewarm smile. “Welcome to my home.”

  Ren shrugged out of his damp jacket and laid it by the fire to dry. “I’ve never been in your house. It’s big.”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is opulent.”

  “Sure,” Ren said.

  “Look, we made a fire. And we’ll have a nice, warm place to sleep tonight.” Penelope sat on a mattress and patted the space beside her. She smiled, and her brown eyes caught the firelight and seemed to glow. “Have a nice dinner from our packs and a good rest. Everything will look brighter in the morning.”

  “Obviously,” Jakob muttered.

  Ren bit his lip to stifle his snicker.

  “No power?” Rowan entered the space with no stutter in her step or worry for propriety and looked around with her hands on her hips.

  “We have candles,” Penelope offered.

  “We could have power if Ren is willing,” Jakob said. He crossed his arms. “And then you would be able to enjoy the splendor of my family home.”

  “Ren is here to disconnect. I don’t think having him power anything is a good idea.” Ren agreed with Asher. He shrugged his shoulders at Jakob in apology. “Besides,” Asher continued, “lighting this place up would be a beacon. We shouldn’t draw attention, especially if we are going to stay here a few days.”

  “We’re not,” Rowan stated. “We’ll head back to the ship in the morning.”

  Jakob dropped his arms. His mouth flapped open, and he took a step forward. “What? But we’ve only just arrived!”

  “And staying would be for what purpose? Your families are gone. No one is here. There isn’t a reason to hang around.”

  “You’re joking. You have to be joking.” Jakob looked to Ren, pleading. “We got here only a few hours ago, Ren.”

  “I know.”

  “Then make them let us stay.”

  Rowan twisted her mouth and grabbed her braid. “No one is going to make me do anything. Understood? I am the captain here, and no little dusters are going to order me around. I don’t care if they have technopathic abilities or opulent houses.”

  Jakob turned red; the color burned in the apples of his cheeks. “Screw you. Screw all of you weeds.” He kicked the pile of blankets, and Penelope lunged to keep them from tumbling into the fire. Jakob stalked off, slamming the door behind him.

  “Good job, Cap,” Ollie said. He joined his sister by the fire. “I think Ren showed more empathy when he tried to kill the Hatfields.”

  Ren winced.

  Rowan rounded on Ollie, finger pointed. “Don’t start. I’ve rearranged my, our, entire
lives for these two. We’ve been pursued by an insane man, stormed a drift, and almost shot out of the damn cluster. We’ve done everything we can and now we’re on some stars-forsaken ball of dirt looking for people who are probably dead.”

  “Rowan!” Penelope said, scandalized. “They could be alive.”

  Rowan cut her gaze to Asher.

  Asher sighed. “We found a gravesite. It was large.”

  “Does Jakob know?” Ollie asked.

  Asher shook his head.

  Penelope stood. “One of us should tell him.”

  “I’ll do it.” Ren needed air. The pressure in the room was stifling.

  Penelope wrung her hands. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking at Rowan. “It should come from me. I’ll make sure to use all my empathy.”

  Rowan glared.

  Ren left the room through the door Jakob had just slammed. The house was dark, but Ren followed the glow of a candle to another room.

  Jakob sat on a bench in the curve of a large window. He had one leg tucked beneath him, and he stared out over their village. The candle sat next to him in an ornate holder; the flame flickered in time with Jakob’s breaths. The window surface was fogged from the heat of Jakob’s body while the snow continued to drift outside.

  The carpet softened the sound of Ren’s footsteps, but in the tomb-like silence of the room, and with the creak of wood beneath him, he couldn’t have sneaked up on Jakob if he’d wanted. Jakob didn’t turn around, but Ren’s image reflected in the window and their gazes met before Ren looked away.

  “Did the drifters send you to talk me down?”

  “No, they didn’t. I volunteered.”

  Ren pulled out a chair from a large, decorative-but-sturdy, table. A chandelier hung overhead, where its crystals flung tiny rainbows on the ceiling and the walls. A broken cabinet stood nearby which, by the look of the mess on the floor, had once been filled with fine dishes. Ren sat stiffly, imagining fancy, stilted dinners, complete with rich foods and wine. Then he dragged the chair to the window and joined Jakob in staring at the landscape.

  “Well?” Jakob prodded. “Are you going talk to me about how it’s better if we leave? How we’re selfish for wanting to stay here and risk Rowan’s reputation and their livelihood?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not going back, not until I’ve found my father, not until I’ve found Sorcha. They can’t make me. And if you want to join them and go do whatever it is the Phoenix Corps wants you to, then go. I’ll be fine here.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Jakob rubbed his forehead. His brown hair stuck up in the back. His skin looked pale, even in the warm, yellow light. He shivered, since the room was much colder than the den, and tucked his coat tighter around his body. He looked fragile, as if he might break into shards like the china at their feet.

  “You’re not?” He turned and swept his gaze up and down Ren’s frame. “Are you in your right mind? Or are you addled?”

  “I’m better.” Ren swallowed, knowing everyone had realized he wasn’t correct while on the Star Stream—everyone but him. “I’m not… fixed. But I’m better being away from the ship.”

  Jakob nodded. “Then what’s the plan? Are we heading out on our own?”

  “Yes. I think my mother and stepfather escaped. I think… my mother’s keepsake box was gone and so were the emergency credits we hid in the kitchen.”

  “I think my father and sisters fled, too. Their rooms are destroyed but things are missing that only they would care about.”

  Ren had forgotten Jakob had sisters. He didn’t talk much about them. They were younger, still in school. Ren didn’t remember their names, but he did remember Jakob’s account of being captured, how he’d run to draw soldiers away, to protect a group of younger children.

  “Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find them, even if I have to search the whole countryside. And no one is getting in my way. Clear enough?”

  “Yeah, Jakob. I’m with you.”

  Jakob cleared his throat. “Liam?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Right.”

  “We should get some rest. We’ll sneak out in a few hours, when the others are asleep.”

  “Do you think they’ll follow?”

  Ren’s gut twisted. “No. And if they do, they don’t know the area like we do. They won’t find us.”

  “Not even Asher?” Jakob raised his eyebrows. “He’s your protector. He’s your friend.”

  “He’s my jailer.” Ren needed to remember that. Even if their relationship was being repaired, Asher held allegiance to the Phoenix Corps. And the Corps wanted Ren locked away near Perilous Space. They would never allow Ren to gallivant across the Erden landscape looking for his family. He was only here to reset, to detox from the thrall of the star. They didn’t care about him. They only cared about what he could do for them or against them.

  “He’ll look for you.”

  Ren didn’t believe that. “Come on.” Ren stood. “We don’t want to raise suspicion by being gone too long.”

  Jakob nodded and glanced back to the window. He pressed his fingers to cold glass, leaving smudge marks. “We’ll find them.”

  “Yeah, we will.”

  Ren didn’t mention the graves. There was no point in undermining Jakob’s belief, his hope. Jakob did stupid things when he was desperate. Jakob couldn’t find anyone if he was dead.

  * * *

  After a hurried dinner of dried meat from their packs and water from the canteens, Ren curled up in a nest of blankets on top of one of the mattresses. The softness was murder on his back. He didn’t take off his boots and kept his feet off the end of the mattress and on the floor, but it was hard not to fall into a deep sleep with the crackling of the fire, the gentle hush of the snow outside, a full stomach, and warm, heavy covers. The mattress Ren had chosen was on the outskirts of the circle, and no one questioned it. Jakob hung back and checked the locks on the doors before he found his own spot at the edge of the group.

  Asher was the last to settle. He stretched out on the couch. He toed off his boots and flung an arm over his eyes. Ren studied him, as Asher’s body slowly relaxed into the cushions and his breaths evened out when he gave into sleep. Ren had seen this when they were in the dungeon together, when they were on The Nomad escaping Erden, when they stayed up too late in the common area of the Star Stream. Knowing he might not see it again, Ren committed the image of Asher to memory: the gold of his hair, the slope of his nose, the peaceful curl of his fingers, the slight bend of his knee.

  Amid the ambient sounds, including Ollie’s snores, Ren closed his eyes, sighed, and slipped into a light doze.

  It seemed only a few minutes had passed before Ren was woken by a shake to his shoulder. Finger to his lips, Jakob stood over him. He had a pack over one shoulder and wore a heavy black coat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He handed Ren a similar coat, and Ren shrugged into the thick fabric. Once he had it zipped, Jakob passed him gloves and a hat.

  The fire had burned low. Asher lay curled into himself under a blanket. Rowan and Penelope hadn’t stirred, huddled together under blankets on the floor near Asher. Ollie’s snores had ceased, and Ren found Ollie propped up on his elbows with his brown eyes reflecting the firelight.

  Ren froze. Jakob noticed and his body stiffened.

  A silent staring contest ensued. No one moved. Ollie’s mouth turned down in a frown; his eyebrows raised. Ren gave him a shrug and tried to convey his apology with his expression. Ren didn’t know what Ollie saw or if he understood the driving need for both Jakob and Ren to at least look farther.

  A log cracked in the fireplace. Rowan stirred, rolling around in her comforter, before snorting and falling back into sleep.

 
Ollie nodded once at Ren and lay back down.

  Ren didn’t dare breathe. His muscles were tight and cramped, as he and Jakob crept out of the room and into the kitchen, down a hallway to a pantry, and then out a back door. Jakob closed it softly behind him and ensured it had locked.

  The clouds had cleared; the broken moon was bright. It lit up the snow, and what Ren could see of the village looked like a painting, a tranquil scene of rustic life, and not the site of a horrible tragedy. The air was cold and crisp and burned Ren’s lungs as he took a relieved breath that they had come this far.

  Silently, Jakob and Ren moved away from the mansion. Jakob didn’t look back, but kept his shoulders straight and his eyes forward. The only sound was the crunch of their boots in the snow, but even that was hushed.

  They found the familiar path that led them out of the village and curved toward some outlying farms. Having learned from his and Asher’s trek across the countryside, Ren hopped down into the ravine beside it and pulled Jakob down with him. Ren gestured for Jakob to follow, and together they ducked into the trees that lined the road.

  The branches bowed under the weight of the snow and blocked the light of the moon and the stars. It was slower going, and they had to step more carefully than if they were on the trail, but their tracks would be harder to find and they blended in wearing their dark clothes.

  They trudged through the wood, keeping the path in sight to their right. The village disappeared behind them. A farmhouse, large but rundown, appeared in front of them. As they neared, Ren made out broken windows and a door barely holding on to its hinges.

  Abandoned.

  They passed it and kept going. Hours went by. The sun rose; darkness gave way to a slow brightening of the sky. Ren stopped to watch as it crested over the horizon: dawn breaking magnificent, the landscape awash in pinks and golds.

  Jakob bumped into him. “What are you stopped for?” His voice was muffled behind the collar of his coat.

  “I forgot what sunrise looked like.” As much as Ren loved space, the terrifying beauty of the stars dotted in the black, he couldn’t deny the warm splendor of the planet waking up.