Ghosts & Ashes

by F. T. Lukens

  The path curved gently, and, when they’d stepped through another copse, the camp lay before them. The buildings were no more than shacks that looked as if they could barely bear the weight of a light snow, but there was no snow on them at all. They had been clustered in no discernible pattern. There were dozens, made from a combination of wood, metal, and blankets. Some of them shared walls the way apartments were stacked on the drifts. Which one belonged to his parents?

  Cooking fires burned outside away from the wood and cloth. Tarps hung overhead in the trees as well. They reflected the smoke and the flames, and, when Ren crossed into the meadow, under the first layer of canvas, it was like walking into a wall of heat. He took off his scarf and unzipped his coat, shrugging out of the heavy fabric. Asher and Jakob did the same. At Ezzy’s instruction, they dropped their winter gear into a pile, and she led them deeper into the commune.

  Ren didn’t know how the villagers had pulled it off, but the ground was free of frost and snow, and small gardens grew. Ren and Asher lingered. Asher bent to finger the leaves, as Ezzy and Jakob continued ahead of them.

  “It’s a greenhouse,” Asher said. “Like on the drifts.”

  Ren elbowed Asher hard in the ribs and shook his head. “Keep it down. We shouldn’t broadcast that you’re a drifter. Keep your tags and tattoo hidden. Something’s going on here.”

  “I noticed.” He looked around, scoffing. “Birdmen? What the cogs? The Phoenix isn’t just a bird. It’s a mythological creature, and we are soldiers.”

  Ren bit back a retort. “Your ridiculous contempt for the name is noted. Now, will you shut up?”

  Asher pouted and crossed his arms.

  Sighing, Ren pushed his hair from his eyes. “I’m serious. Try to keep your drifter opinions to yourself so you don’t get us thrown out of—”

  “Ren?”

  The voice was tentative, uncertain, but familiar. Ren snapped his head up and watched as his stepfather approached, carrying a bundle of wood. He looked the same, big and brawny. His brown hair was salted with gray, and his beard was full, as he always wore it in the winter.

  “Ren, is that you?”

  Ren straightened. He raised his hand in an awkward wave. “Um… hi.”

  The firewood tumbled to the ground, and Ren found himself caught up in a bear hug. His stepfather’s arms crushed Ren to his barrel chest.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  Ren’s relationship with his stepfather had been lukewarm at best, awkward and strained most of the time, and contentious every once in a while. They didn’t hug. Emotion hadn’t been an aspect of their association. But wrapped tight in his stepfather’s arms, Ren felt tears gather because he was safe. For the first time in a long while, he was safe, without the throb of the star in his chest. He clutched back.

  “Katherine!” he bellowed. “Kat! Come out here.”

  He pushed Ren to arm’s length; his meaty hand curled around Ren’s forearm.

  “What is it, honey?” she said, a laugh on the edge of her words. Pushing back a curtain decorated with flowers, she emerged from one of the shacks nearby. “What is the fuss all about?”

  She wiped her hands on her apron. Her red hair was pulled back from her face in a complicated knot, and she had streaks of gray at her temples. Her eyes were bright, but her face had aged. She looked careworn, fatigued—the price of losing her home and both of her sons.

  She gasped when she saw Ren. Her hands flew to cover her open mouth. Her voice trembled. “Ren?”

  “Mom.”

  She attacked him. It was the only way he could describe it. He wobbled backward, almost fell, but Asher supported him for a second. His palm made a reassuring pressure between Ren’s shoulder blades before he stepped away.

  “My boy.” She cupped his face. Her hands were warm, and she kissed his forehead. “Oh, my son. How did you…? Where have you…?” She hiccupped. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe it. Are you okay?”

  “I’m good. I’m good.” He held her hand to his face. He was good. He was bursting. All he’d wanted was to return home, and he had. He had made it. He had made it.

  “You need a haircut. You’re shaggy.”

  Ren laughed.

  “And you need a good meal. You don’t look like you’ve been eating.”

  That was true. Ren hadn’t been eating on the ship. He’d been too consumed with nightmares and electricity and power. What else did she see? The circles under his eyes? Could she read the things that had happened in tense lines around his mouth or the slump of his shoulders?

  “A lot has happened,” he said simply.

  She nodded; her smile dimmed. “It has,” she confirmed. She patted his cheeks and pulled away. She wiped at her eyes, then noticed Asher for the first time. “And who is this?”

  “I’m Ash,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Ren’s friend.”

  “We met at the citadel, when…” Ren trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  Kat pushed away Asher’s arm and pulled him into a hug. Asher held his body stiff, but, after a moment, he relaxed into her embrace.

  “You look like you need a good meal as well,” she said, stepping back and eyeing them. “And a warm place to sleep and ward off the chill.”

  “That would be very nice,” Asher said.

  His stepfather bent to gather the wood back into his arms. “Come along, then. We’ll get you both sorted.”

  Kat beamed. She took Ren’s arm and tugged. Ren grabbed Asher’s hand, and they were swept along into the camp.

  * * *

  His parents’ shack was tiny. The four of them fit, but barely, sitting on a threadbare rug on the floor. But it was cozy and warm, which was a surprise.

  Ren and Asher received bowls of rich, hearty stew. The broth was fragrant, the vegetables were fresh, and the meat chunks were plentiful. Ren ate his fill, slurping from his bowl and sopping the remnants with a hunk of bread. Asher ate politely, though with zeal, and, by the end, Ren could’ve dozed off where he sat—warm and content and happy and back where he belonged, even if he wasn’t so sure of that last part.

  His stepfather left to tend to the fires, which was his job in the little community. When he departed after a tender pat on the head to Ren and a kiss for Ren’s mother, the three of them were alone. His mother stacked the dishes, then fidgeted. She picked at a loose thread in her apron. Her fingernails were dirty. When she spoke, she didn’t look at him, but stared at a spot on the packed dirt floor. “What happened, Ren? When you were taken?”

  The question was tentative, as if she wasn’t sure how to ask, or whether she really wanted to know.

  Ren and Asher exchanged a glance, and Ren sat up straighter, keeping his legs crossed beneath him.

  “You have to be more specific. So much has… it’s been almost a year. It was barely spring the last time I saw you.”

  “The last I saw of you and Liam was when you two went to swim in the lake.” Her brow furrowed, and she worried the string between her fingers. “Was Liam with you when you went to the castle?”

  “No,” Ren said. “I saw him in the forest. They had him, but he got away.” Ren ignored the sharp glance from Asher. Asher knew the whole story, having heard it on one of the nights they’d spent locked in the dungeon. “You haven’t seen him?”

  “I dream about him,” she said. “But no, I haven’t seen him. Not since the day they took you. He must have been taken, too.”

  Ren pressed his lips together and took a shallow breath. “He wasn’t at the citadel. Where else would he have been taken? Who other than Vos would have wanted him?”

  She finally looked at him. Her eyes were green, like Liam’s, but they were haunted, afraid. “There are several possibilities for people with special gifts like him. Like you.”

  The confession was like a stunner blast to the chest r
endering him helpless. One moment, Ren’s heart beat, and the next, it seized painfully. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. His muscles locked. He stared at her with fists clenched against his thighs, eyes burning, body rigid.

  “You knew,” Asher said, softly, gently accusing, but oddly compassionate, as if her knowledge was a burden.

  She nodded. The gesture unlocked Ren like a key. He breathed, though it wasn’t calming or even; it was ragged and distressed. Tears of anger welled in his eyes as he remembered: the confusion and the dread; the prods and the locks and the cell and the ships; the nights wondering what was happening to him and trembling with exhaustion; the panic as he slipped into the machines; being hunted across a landscape and across the cluster and not really understanding why; being overwhelmed with power and having his humanity burned out of him in waves of blue electricity; having no agency, no control; being weaponized, dehumanized, and scared, so scared; terrified he would succumb to the thrall of tech, lose his humanity, lose his mind.

  Ren jumped to his feet; the action startled both his mother and Asher. He towered over her, with his shoulders hunched to keep from knocking his head on the ceiling.

  “Ren?” Asher said. “Calm down.”

  “You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He sparked out. His vision went blue. There was nowhere for the star to bleed to, other than Asher’s pulse gun, or the tech in his shoulder. And both were too small to warrant the attention of the rage which throbbed through him.

  His mother blinked at him. Her face was pale, and she had twin spots of red on her freckled cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Ren. You have to understand. There are things going on that you don’t know.”

  “No coggin’ shit.”

  “You will not take that tone with me. I am your mother, no matter what you think of me.”

  “What I think is that you were scared of me, like everyone else, like you should be, and you couldn’t face that. Were you scared of Liam too? Is he like me?” Ren held out his hand. Electricity snapped and crackled down his fingers, flickering along his skin. “What didn’t you tell him? Where is he?”

  “Ren, I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared for you.”

  She stood and folded her hand over Ren’s, snuffing out the sparks of power. Her eyes flashed gold. Ren’s star receded, tucked back into his chest, and when he squeezed his eyes shut, the blue faded. He blinked and caught the fading color in his mother’s eyes.

  “How did you do that?”

  “There is much more going on than you understand,” she repeated. “I’m sorry you had to figure it out on your own. And you must know that everything I did was to protect you and your brother.” She released his hand. “Now, sit down.”

  Ren folded to the floor, partly in shock, partly from compulsion. Ren had always attributed his power to his nonexistent father. It hadn’t crossed his mind that his mother would be the one. He should’ve known.

  Asher patted his arm, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by his mother. “Do you want me to step outside?” he asked.

  “No. You should hear this too,” Ren said. He lifted his chin and waited for his mother to argue, but she did not.

  “I’m not powerful,” she said. “And I can only comfort and calm. When you were small, you toddled to one of your toys, touched it, and your eyes went blue. When that happened, I had your stepfather throw out all of the limited tech we had. And we kept it that way.”

  “I figured it out in Vos’s dungeon. Why we didn’t have tech. Why you wouldn’t let me go to the space docks.” His throat went tight. He had guessed about his mother’s knowledge all those months ago, but to hear it confirmed was entirely different. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide it?”

  “I was hoping you would never be forced to know. I was hoping that it would pass you by, and you would never know the star that pulsed within you.”

  Asher raised an eyebrow. “Your plan was that you hoped he wouldn’t need to use it? Wouldn’t be captured? Even though you knew there was a chance? That is the worst plan. That’s not even a plan. And what if he wanted to leave?”

  She stared at Asher with a flat expression.

  Ren turned his head away, against the realization that all his aspirations, all his hopes of leaving Erden would have never manifested if he hadn’t been taken by the soldiers. Liam had been right: His dreams were dust.

  “I was never going to leave here,” he said softly. “You condemned me to a life on this weedin’ planet, in this stupid village, because you were afraid.”

  “This is a wonderful life, Ren. This isn’t anything to be ashamed of, even if drifters deem it backward or spacers don’t understand.”

  Ren didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He didn’t know what to say. He bowed his head and stared at the dirt floor.

  “You couldn’t have left, Ren. You needed to stay here and remain hidden. There are things you don’t know. Things about us, about star hosts, and what we had to do to survive.”

  “I can’t listen to any more.” Ren stood. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “I think I’ll join you,” Asher said, also standing.

  His mother got to her feet, and the three of them huddled in the shack. The air was too close; the secrets were too thick.

  “You have to listen to me, Ren. You need the whole story.”

  Ren shook his head. “I’ve been figuring it out on my own. I can figure out the rest, too.” He brushed past Asher, pushed the blanket curtain aside, and left the shack. He heaved a breath of the crisp, unfiltered air.

  “Your son is wonderful and amazing and brave. He’s incredibly brave. I wish you could’ve seen that while he was here and trusted him enough to tell him what he needed to know. He’s survived, but not without cost, and that could have been prevented.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, as someone not burdened with the gift of the stars.”

  “No, it’s easy for me to say as someone who cares for him.”

  Ren sucked in a breath.

  Asher left the shack with a determined stride and stopped short. “I thought you would’ve walked a little farther away.” His cheeks bloomed with a pink flush.

  Ren licked his lips; his pulse beat hard beneath his skin. “You care for me?”

  “Of course, you know that.”

  Ren did. Away from the ship, away from tech, this fact was a solid, irrefutable presence in his middle, separate from the star. It had its own space, its own force, and Ren could’ve cried from the warmth. He lifted his hand, curled it around the nape of Asher’s neck, and drew him close. The kiss was soft, not filled with the desperation of their other kisses, but significant all the same. It took a moment for Asher to respond, and, when he did, he sank into it, relaxed the tense line of his shoulders, and pulled Ren closer with an arm around his waist.

  They kissed in front of the home where Ren’s parents lived, in the middle of a community of which Ren never really was a member. They kissed and didn’t care who saw, and while they did, while Ren’s lips molded to Asher’s mouth, he was at peace. The turmoil which constantly threatened to break him into pieces was soothed, and the universe shrank to Asher’s hand combing through his hair, and the movement of Asher’s mouth on his, and the beat of Asher’s pulse beneath Ren’s fingertips.

  It was Asher who broke away, too soon, and Ren wasn’t prepared to relinquish the quiet thrum of intimacy, of affection.

  “Does this mean I’m forgiven for being an arrogant drifter birdman?” Asher’s words vibrated against Ren’s mouth; his breath ghosted over Ren’s cheek.

  Ren huffed a laugh. “We’ll work on it.” He pressed a quick kiss to Asher’s cheek. “What about me? Does this mean I’m forgiven for being an unpredictable, sometimes homicidal, star host?”

  “We’ll work on it.”

  Ren smiled, and it wasn’t brittle. He
didn’t feel as if he’d break.

  “I haven’t seen you smile in so long,” Asher whispered; he touched the corner of Ren’s mouth with his fingertips. “I had forgotten what it looked like.”

  Ren clutched Asher tighter, prepared to continue working on forgiveness, but a hurried crunch of footsteps and a loud voice stopped him.

  “Oh, thank the stars!” Jakob yelled. “I need to talk to both of you, right now.”

  8

  They found a fire and a ring of rocks. No one was nearby, which was a blessing, and the fire was large enough that it created a comfortable circumference of heat. They sat down, and Jakob kicked a bundle of firewood.

  “I’ve been here less than a day and I already want to get the hell out of here.”

  “Me, too,” Ren said quietly. He rubbed his hands together, then splayed his fingers toward the fire.

  “My father wanted to know why I didn’t come back sooner. He said I had shirked my duties here and said I was a coward for staying away so long.” Jakob crossed his arms and frowned. “It’s not like I almost died or anything.”

  Jakob’s admission was a surprise. To Ren, Jakob had led a charmed life of privilege, the only son of the head of the village council, the wealthiest man in the village. But there was more to the story, and, seeing Jakob hunched over his knees, Ren empathized.

  “We could leave,” Ren said softly.

  Asher snapped his gaze to him. “I thought you would want to stay. Coming home was what you wanted from the beginning.”

  Ren furrowed his brow. “I have wanted to come home. I’ve wanted to find Liam. But this isn’t my home. My home doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jakob said.

  Asher looked at them. “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t have to stay. We could head back to the port and find transport.”

  Jakob shifted. He stared at the fire. “I don’t know.”