by F. T. Lukens
“You’re right, I can’t.” Asher said. He turned away. “But you can’t deny that Millicent killed people, too, or that you were ready to kill when the star possessed you, that you may have killed at the citadel just now.”
Ren seethed. No, he couldn’t deny it, and the knowledge threatened to sink him. He was the reason the Corps was on Erden, no one else. He thought about the dream he’d had, about being pulled under the lake, about being held down, about thrashing uselessly, unable to change anything. That was what guilt felt like—like drowning. He bit back a yell of utter frustration. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gnawed his lip, trying not to erupt with anger.
Asher paced nearby, ignoring Ren, muttering to himself. Ren was glad of it. Maybe they would calm down and begin to think logically again and find a way back to the drifts.
“How are we going to get on a ship? How are we going to get to Delphi?” Asher looked up and pinned Ren with an irritated glare. “We’re literally right back where we started when we escaped the first time.”
“Fate’s a cog,” Ren said, his voice a knife’s edge.
“This is your fault, you know.”
Ren sighed. They weren’t finished then. “My fault? How is this my fault?”
“If you and Jakob hadn’t decided to go off on your own, I’d be back on the ship and able to report. I wouldn’t be AWOL. But no, you two had to trudge off into a snowstorm.”
“You didn’t have to follow. I didn’t ask you to follow.”
“You knew I would.”
“Yes, because you can’t let a prisoner out of your sight. Couldn’t let me get away, or you’d be in trouble with your frightening boss.”
Asher blew a breath out through his nose. He looked like a bull. “No, because I care for you and I didn’t want you to die. But sure, blame it on that. Blame it on VanMeerten and on me. That’s what you’re good at.”
“What the cogs does that mean?”
Asher didn’t answer, just pressed his lips together. He put his hands on his hips and stared off into the distance.
But Ren wasn’t going to be ignored. He approached on wobbly legs and pushed his finger into Asher’s chest. “Hey, I’m talking to you. What does that mean? Huh?”
“Leave it, Ren.”
He should’ve. He really should’ve, but he was boiling. His fury was hot as the sun. He pushed Asher’s shoulder again, harder. “You started this fight. So finish it. What does that mean? Come on, Ash. Don’t spare my feelings. Out with it. Tell me. I want you to—”
“You didn’t see yourself! Okay?” Asher exploded, knocking Ren’s hand away. “It means that you didn’t see what I did, what the others did. It means that you haven’t seen anything clearly since we left Mykonos. You’re erratic and—” Asher fought for the words. “And paranoid. You’re a ghost. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. On the ship, you barely talked. You walked around at all hours with your eyes constantly blazing blue.”
“My eyes are brown.”
“They were blue,” Asher said his voice dropping so low Ren strained to hear. “More often than not. And when they were, you just,” he shrugged, helpless, subdued. “You weren’t there.”
Ren’s heart pounded. His throat went dry. A shiver sliced down his body and wracked his frame. The lost time, the lack of sleep, the intimacy with the ship all pointed to Asher telling the truth. “That’s not…” He swallowed. “That’s not… You didn’t tell me.”
“I tried, but you… you interpreted concern as… something else. And I didn’t do a good job of showing it either. I was afraid.”
Ren’s knees went weak, and he stumbled, sinking to the ground. He sat in the snow and let the cold leech into the fabric of his trousers, into his skin. The feeling steadied him, reminded him that he existed in his body. “Of me?”
“Sometimes,” Asher said. He crouched. “But mainly I was afraid we were losing you.” Ducking his head, he met Ren’s gaze head on; his expression was haunted. “I was losing you.”
Suddenly exhausted, Ren dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry.” The words came out muffled by his palms. “I never wanted any of this.”
Ren heard the crunch of snow and the thud of Asher sitting next to him. His leg bumped into Ren’s, and the body heat was welcome in the cold.
“I can’t imagine the power you have inside of you. I can’t imagine what it must be like. And I have done my best to try and help, and I know it hasn’t always been what you think is right.”
Ren raised his head. “This,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “has been harder than I thought it would be.”
Asher looked away. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “We can’t stay here. We need to get going and meet Rowan. She’ll want to know everything.”
Ren stood and reached out. Asher took his hand, and Ren hauled him to his feet. He didn’t let go of Asher’s hand. They didn’t speak. Silence pervaded the woods; all sound was dampened by the drifts of snow.
Ren lifted the side of his mouth and managed a laugh. “As you pointed out, we’ve done this before.”
Asher’s lips twitched into a small smile. “We have,” he said.
“We can do it again.”
“We can.”
Ren nodded. He dropped Asher’s hand and shoved his own hands into his pockets. “Okay, then. Let’s find a ship.”
Asher’s grin turned wry. “Let’s try not to find one with a crew who will try to ransom you.”
Ren brushed the snow from the back of his trousers and sighed. “That’s an excellent plan.”
* * * * *
The journey from Erden wasn’t nearly as stressful as the last time. They entered the spaceport and kept their heads down. Ren didn’t spark. Asher didn’t run into any Phoenix Corps members. They found a ship headed to Delphi and booked passage without a problem. Asher’s active credit chip surely helped.
They boarded and shared a room. Ren was silent. Asher brooded.
Asher resisted sending a message to Rowan, scared that the Corps would be looking for them and monitoring transmissions to and from the Star Stream.
Ren didn’t care. He slept in the bed. Asher slept on the floor. They ate with the crew, but there was no fear of discovery of Ren’s powers. He kept everything bound tight, and when he did merge, he did so discreetly, and only to see if there were warrants for them. There weren’t, meaning the Corps wanted to keep Asher’s AWOL status a secret except in the organization.
Ren had been worried about being on a ship again, but he didn’t find it difficult, which was strange. He wasn’t tempted as he had been on the Star Stream. This ship didn’t live and breathe, didn’t flood Ren’s veins, didn’t call to him when he slept. That didn’t stop Asher from staying awake at night to ensure Ren didn’t accidentally cause an emergency, but when Ren slept, he didn’t dream. He slept hard, and deep, and woke up rested.
Asher’s words rang in Ren’s head, so he made sure to eat. He talked. It was inane chatter, but Asher barely listened, anyway.
Ren tried not to think about Beatrice in the snow.
He missed Jakob, his brusque attitude and his unwavering friendship, with a fierceness that surprised him. He hoped Ezzy was okay. He knew Sorcha would take care of them all. He didn’t think about his parents.
Now, Ren’s gaze turned from Erden and into space, toward finding his brother. He might be on Crei. He might be anywhere, if Asher’s ideas about a larger conspiracy against the drifts were true. Ren didn’t offer his opinion. Asher wouldn’t appreciate it, especially since Ren could no longer tell who was in the right. Vos and his parents had planted the seed that the Corps was corrupt, and Zag’s attack on them at the citadel only made that seed grow.
But Ren couldn’t support Vos, either. He had taken Ren from his home and had forced Ren to expose his existence to the drifts, and, because of him, Ren
couldn’t live a normal life, no matter how much he wanted to.
However, Ren’s objective had remained steadfast since the beginning—protect his brother. And he would. He had to. If he could find him.
They docked at Delphi. Ren and Asher disembarked without incident, though Asher radiated anxiety. He kept his head down and shoulders up, hunched in a worn jacket that had seen better days.
The drift was as Ren remembered, not remarkably different from the other drifts he had visited: a little smaller than Mykonos, but as vibrant and loud, spinning slowly in the middle of the dark of space. It bustled with activity. People from all over brushed past Ren, knocking shoulders with him.
Asher left Ren standing in an alcove near benches and plants framing a large viewing window. The sky slid past him; stars twinkled from far away. Ships eased into docks and blasted off, leaving trails of particles behind them. Checking the drift’s time, Ren found it was the middle of their day, though it seemed to him it should be the middle of the night. He stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. He could use a nap, and food—he was tired of rations and stale bread.
The first time he had been on Delphi, Asher had snuck him off the ship and taken him to a buffet. At the memory, Ren perked up.
Asher approached, mouth pulled into a frown. “The ship isn’t here,” he said. “Info says they should be back in two days. I sent Rowan a vague message.” Asher looked over his shoulder and ducked his head when a few Corpsmen sauntered past. “We need to find a place to lie low.”
Ren nodded. Hands in the pockets of his trousers and long-sleeved shirt pulled down over his wrists, he looked every inch a duster. Asher didn’t look much better. They stuck out, even among some of the more outrageous of the drifters.
“I want to see Nadie.”
Asher lifted an eyebrow. He grabbed Ren’s shirt and pulled him close. “Are you serious?” he said, voice low and harsh. “Are you addled?”
“You don’t have to come with me, but I want to see her. She could have information for me. She could know something I don’t.”
“What is this about, Ren? What do you have in your head?”
“Can you trust me?”
Asher sighed. He put his hands on his hips and studied Ren. His gaze pierced Ren to his core, then swept up and down his frame, finally studied the color of his eyes. They were the familiar brown. Ren was sure. He didn’t feel as though his hold had slipped or that he was sparking anywhere. Yes, the drift buzzed around him, spoke to him on levels that Asher couldn’t hear, but so did the people, the low hum of movement, the burst of voices, the rustle of fabric.
“What could she know that we don’t?”
“The future.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Really?”
Ren’s lips almost brushed Asher’s jaw. “I control technology. You’ve met a man who can influence others with his voice. And for some reason, you still can’t believe that she can see glimpses of the future.”
“Is there a question in there?”
Ren stepped out of the alcove, knocking into Asher’s shoulder. “I’m going.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“Good.” Ren looked down the outer curve of the drift floor and took a step. He stopped, looked to the inner spoke, and then back to the other side. He huffed, annoyed. “I don’t know where her office is.”
Asher smiled, smug and irritating. “It’s three floors down.”
Ren grumbled under his breath and marched to the nearest lift. During the ride down, Ren turned off the cameras with a tendril of his power, in case anyone was looking.
When they arrived where Nadie’s office used to be, all they found was a cracked window and a torn sign. Ren peered through the frosted glass and could see nothing of the eccentric room that had greeted them last time. He tried the knob and found it locked, but at a push the door fell away from the frame on broken hinges.
The mess that greeted them reminded Ren of his childhood home—broken objects, scattered papers covered in scrawled predictions, items tossed everywhere. Her business, her home, her life had been destroyed. Ren froze; fear shivered down his spine, but he had to know. Maybe she’d escaped, too. Maybe she had been warned. Maybe there was a coded message here, too. Anything. There had to be something.
Brow furrowed, Ren stepped in, but Asher’s hand on his forearm stopped him. “Don’t,” he said, voice low, full of warning.
“Why?”
“We’re being watched.”
Asher kept his chin tucked down, but jerked his head toward the middle of the drift floor. Sure enough, two birdmen watched with interest. Their hands were near their weapons; their body armor was snug around their torsos. The symbol of their institution blazed stark red on their shoulders—the phoenix with wings outspread, talons hooked, rising from flames.
The image of Beatrice’s red hair spread out against the snow flashed in Ren’s mind, and he shook with anger. He clenched his hands, and bit his lip, and fought against the swell of power that rose in him.
“Ren,” Asher whispered fiercely. “Stop whatever you’re doing.”
Ren blinked, turned away, and covered his face with his hands. “We should walk away.”
“Good idea.”
Asher jerked on Ren’s arm, pulled him away from the broken entrance of Nadie’s office, and led him parallel to the wall, back to the lifts.
They went a few steps, then passed a dark alcove, and a hand shot out, gripping Ren’s shirt. Elegant fingers with long fingernails and adorned with jewelry tugged Ren out of Asher’s grasp and then let go. Twin red orbs stared out from the darkness, and Ren remembered how Nadie’s eyes glowed red when she used her power, as his glowed blue.
“Nadie?” he asked. He moved into the alcove with Asher a hot presence at his back. “Is that you?”
“Why are you here?” Her voice was deep and resonant, as if several people spoke at once, echoing in the small space.
“I wanted to see you.”
“Do not seek him out. Do not find him.”
Ren moved closer. In the sparse light, he saw that the elegant, ageless lady he had met before was gone. Instead, a haggard woman with glowing eyes and tangled hair stood in front of him. Her dress was tattered, though colorful, and she walked with halting steps; her bare feet slid backward along the deck plate as she drew them farther into the alcove.
Asher stiffened behind Ren, but Ren followed her.
“Why not?”
She didn’t answer; her gaze shifted to Asher. “You have left the flames,” she said.
“Yeah. Not quite by choice.”
“You will watch him cross. In your arms. After you cross him. He will leave, but don’t let go. Don’t let go. To the ship.”
“What do you mean? Who will leave? Ren?”
She shook her head and the long tresses of her black hair swung at her hips. She rolled her neck and moaned, then moved her lips soundlessly. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and then laughed as she swayed. Then abruptly, she stopped. She dropped her hands and raised her head. Her eyes were dark. Nadie blinked, looked around the alcove, and scanned the area.
She leveled her gaze at Asher. “You again. If you’re here to arrest me, I’m not going without a fight, Phoenix.”
Asher raised his hands. “I’m not here for you.”
“Then why are you here?” She jerked her chin toward the main floor. “Are they still out there?”
“Yes,” Asher said.
She stiffened. “They’ve been there for days, since they destroyed my office, my life.”
Ren stepped closer. “What happened to you, Nadie?”
She cut her gaze to Ren. Her eyes flickered, shifting from red to black, before blazing.
“I saw them. I saw them. I saw them. I saw them.” She laughed again, wildly, terrifying
. “They have come for me. I hid in the shadows, waiting for you. You have come.”
Ren stiffened. “Why did you wait for me?”
She stood motionless for a long moment, and then lunged. Ren scrambled backward, but hit Asher’s chest. She grabbed him, nails digging into his skin, and she smiled, a crooked, broken expression that made Ren shudder in her grip.
“Do not seek him out. Do not let her guide you. Find the star when it happens. Find it and be safe. Be safe. Be safe. Be safe.”
She released him and went back to mumbling incoherently. She drew her nails up her arm and down again, leaving scratches. “I had a life,” she said softly. “I had a life. I wanted a life.”
Ren’s heart sank. “Cassandra,” he whispered.
She snapped to attention and stared at him with eyes like dying embers that slowly turned to ash. She lifted a trembling finger to her pale mouth, and took a breath. “You need to leave, young star. You’re putting us both in danger.”
“Come with us,” Ren said. “We can help you. We can hide you.”
Her lips pulled into a smirk. “I don’t need your help. My alter ego may be dramatic but I am prepared. I have a plan. You must go. Remember whatever I told you. I am rarely wrong.”
“No,” Ren said. He shook off the hand that Asher placed on his shoulder. “No, I’m not leaving you. We can help each other.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Save me from idiots,” she said softly. “I am not afraid. I am not helpless.”
“No, but—”
Then she screamed and her eyes glowed red.
Ren flinched backward, bumping into Asher’s chest. His eardrums rattled as she screamed and screamed. Her voice pierced Ren’s core and vibrated there, as if he were made of glass she could shatter. He and Asher scrambled from the alcove and bolted to the side as the members of the Phoenix Corps swarmed toward them.
Asher pulled Ren close, and they left the scene.
Nadie continued to scream, high-pitched, hysterical, insane.
Ren peeked over his shoulder and watched as the Corpsmen pulled her from the alcove. She shrieked and clawed and cried. Her eyes were red as fire and her body writhed as she saw a future no one else could. Ren hid his face as they marched her away, dragged her when she wouldn’t walk, took her away from her home to only she knew where. She had seen her own future, and now it enveloped her, overwhelmed her, and she succumbed to it. But as she had in the alcove, she stopped and suddenly broke their hold. She cackled as she raced away with her long black hair a streak behind her.