Broken Moon Series Digital Box Set

by F. T. Lukens

  “Good choice.”

  They faced each other and stood chest to chest. Ren didn’t know how they’d moved so close, but they stared levelly, unflinching.

  Rowan shouldered between them.

  “Enough. Asher is coming. He’s the only one of us who has true military experience, and his knowledge of the planet may be useful.”

  “Jakob and I know the planet, and Ollie should be force enough.”

  “Are you questioning my orders, little one?”

  Ren broke the staring contest and dropped his gaze. “No, Captain.”

  “Good. I don’t care what’s going on between you two, but let me make myself clear. If either of you does something stupid because of a spat, I will not hesitate to drag your asses back to this ship and lock you in your rooms. Now, Ren, hurt or not, Asher is an asset, so he’s coming.” She turned to her brother; her finger pointed hard in his chest. “No Corps uniform. Go change. We’ll wait. And keep your disparaging comments about the planet to yourself. Clear?”

  Asher glared at Ren. “Crystal,” he said. He turned and left.

  Jakob gripped Ren’s shoulder; his fingers dug into the blade. He said into Ren’s ear, “You’re my friend, Ren. And I stand with you, no matter what. If we need to ditch this lot to do what we came here to do, we will.”

  Ren patted Jakob’s hand. “Okay.”

  “Are you ready for what we might find?”

  Ren took a shuddering breath. “I have to be.”

  “Yeah, I’m not either.”

  Jakob dropped his hand when Asher returned. He had changed into civilian clothes but there was no hiding the bearing of a soldier. Beneath the nondescript jacket and shirt and trousers, Asher’s shoulders were broad, and his posture was straight. The air of confidence Ren had admired so many months ago emanated from him. He had a pulse gun strapped to his waist, a large knife attached to his outer thigh, and a bulging pack on his back.

  “Ready?” Rowan asked.

  Asher nodded.

  She tugged her braid. “Good. Let’s go.”

  She hit the switch, and the bay doors slowly opened to reveal the space dock. Ren could’ve cut the tension with a knife. When the doors stopped moving, the group stared out at an underwhelming scene.

  “Oh,” Pen said, stepping out. “It’s not much different than a small drift. I was expecting it… to be more alien, honestly.”

  Jakob rolled his eyes. “Idiots,” he said, brushing past the group with his boots thumping against the metal. “Follow me.”

  It wasn’t the same dock Asher and Ren had departed from what seemed like centuries ago. This one, closer to the village, was where Ren had wished his mother would’ve allowed him to visit and find work. When Ren had lain on the beach at the lake and watched the ships fly through the sky, they had originated from this port. To the boy who dreamed of leaving Erden, this place would’ve been amazing. To Ren now, it was small, dingy, and poorly maintained. It confirmed every duster cliché he’d heard on the drifts.

  Ashamed, Ren kept his head down as the crew, his friends, experienced such a lackluster introduction to his home planet.

  Maneuvering through this space dock was about the same as it had been the last time Ren had been in one, but without the soldiers trying to capture him. Then, he’d been so exhausted his power had seeped out at every turn. This time, he wasn’t as tired, but his power, though not sparking randomly, did wash out of his fingers and the soles of his feet.

  He could feel everything. He could see it all, and his consciousness spread out into the flooring, then crawled up the wall and into the systems. He could hear the chatter between the dock and the ships descending into atmo. He could feel the environmental controls, the lighting, the vid feeds, and the force fields in different sections. Everything whispered to him, invaded him, and he welcomed it as he strode through the dock with his consciousness filling up with the tech until it was all that remained inside of him. He slowed his pace, lingering, and his star flickered as the crew disappeared around the corner and out to the planet surface.

  Ren ignored the calls of the tech, ignored the errors and breaks, and followed. Once he stepped through the double doors into the open air of Erden, the connection to the systems faded with each step he took. It stretched until it snapped, and Ren was wholly corporeal. The static cleared, the voices dimmed, and Ren saw the planet clearly. Sunlight broke through the heavy layer of clouds and illuminated the bleak landscape. Trees stood spindly and barren against the gray sky. When Ren breathed, he smelled the crisp, fresh snow, which fell in large flakes. His ears burned from the cold, and the tip of his nose went numb.

  He saw the group and joined them. With his consciousness uncluttered, Ren could think freely for the first time in ages. His thoughts centered on the journey ahead.

  “What is this stuff?” Pen said, stepping carefully through the white powder that covered the landscape. It gathered wetly on the toes of her boots. “And why is it so cold?” She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered.

  Ren scuffed his heel, revealing dirt under the thin white layer: snow. It had snowed. He’d been away so long he’d forgotten about the weather, the seasons. It had been early spring when he’d been captured, and, in his mind, the planet hadn’t changed. To him it had always been early spring on Erden. But the fresh layer of ice and slush told him otherwise.

  It was a shock to realize his home had continued on without him. The planet had moved; the seasons had changed. His family would have changed, too, just as he had.

  His breath hung in puffs of condensation, and the tips of his fingers started to freeze. He was glad he wore a jacket, and he tucked his hands under his arms, which were crossed over his skinny chest.

  “It’s snow. And this isn’t so bad,” Jakob said. He tilted his face to the sky and took a deep breath. “It’ll get much colder once the sun sets.”

  “We should get going,” Ren mumbled. The clouds were pregnant with the promise of more snow, and half their group wasn’t dressed for the cold—Ren included.

  “Do you know the way?” Rowan asked, brushing flakes from her shoulders and hair. “And will we get there before this becomes any deeper?”

  Jakob hefted the pack on his shoulders. “I know the way. It’s only about an hour on foot. We’ll be fine.”

  “Ren?”

  Ren held out his palm, and snow landed on his skin, then melted. How could he have forgotten it would be winter?

  “Ren?”

  He turned his hand over, staring at it. The tips of his fingers were pink; his fingernails were white. The nail on his ring finger was torn and jagged, and a bead of dried blood sat at the corner. When had that happened?

  “Ren!” Rowan snapped.

  He jerked, dropped his hand, and lifted his head. “Yes?”

  The group stared at him. They all looked ridiculous in their drifter clothes with snow gathering in their hair and around their collars. Rowan’s nose was red already. Penelope’s brow furrowed as she kicked at the ground. Ollie shivered. And Asher…

  Asher’s expression was haunted.

  “Is Jakob right? We can walk there?”

  “Oh,” Ren said. He nodded. “Yes. It’s not far.”

  “Then lead the way, you two. Or do you want to stand here and freeze to death?”

  Jakob brushed past Ren and took the front position. “It’s not that cold,” he muttered.

  Ren fell in behind him, and the group trudged forward. Ren kept his focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to find the familiar rhythm of walking on the planet’s surface, but he couldn’t shake the look on Asher’s face.

  * * *

  “I feel like I’ve gained a million pounds,” Penelope said as they walked. “I didn’t realize the gravity would be this different.”

  “I’m cold,” Ollie responded. “How come no o
ne mentioned it would be your cold season? And there might be… whatever this stuff is?”

  “I’d forgotten,” Ren said.

  It was the first thing he’d said in almost an hour. No one had spoken much, though Ollie and Penelope had a hero’s go at keeping up a conversation.

  Rowan was tense. Her body was taut as a bowstring, and her hand was never too far from her pulse gun. Asher was alert too, but in a different way, as if one wrong move would catch him up in his memories of the planet and his own capture. Ren had forgotten that as well. Asher carried as much emotional baggage about being back here as Ren and Jakob did. He, too, was a victim of circumstance, of wrong-place, wrong-time.

  Jakob’s long strides and fast pace were too much for those not dirt-born, and several times he had to slow down, stop, and wait as the drifters’ bodies adjusted. He wore his frustration like battle armor; his expression dared anyone to remark on the speed. No one did.

  They weren’t far from the village now. The snow had tapered off as they walked and the sun sank lazily into the horizon.

  Ren recognized the landscape: the forest on either side, the trees with names carved in the bark—a ritual for betrothed couples. A boundary rock marked the entrance to the village lands. Ren brushed away the snow to reveal the language of his ancestors.

  “What does it say?” Rowan asked, studying the symbols.

  “It’s a warning to anyone who wants to do harm to the village. And it is a spell for protection.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? Those squiggly lines are all superstition?”

  Ren stood and his shoulder knocked into hers. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t work anyway.” Leaving Rowan and her drifter arrogance behind, he caught up to the group,

  Ren’s apprehension and excitement grew as they drew closer to the village. The snow had begun to blow again, harder than before. Everyone huddled in their coats except Jakob, who pushed the ankle-high snow out of the way with his determined stride. In front of them stood a small rise, and right over it would be the bowl that held the village.

  Jakob plowed on, but Ren stopped at the bottom of the rise.

  Asher ran into his back. “Ren?”

  Ren swallowed hard. “It’s over the crest of the hill.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. I… don’t know what we’ll find.”

  “Hopefully shelter,” Ollie said, rubbing his arms.

  Ren ignored him.

  Rowan’s cold fingers encircled Ren’s wrist. “We’re with you.”

  “I know.”

  Jakob stopped at the top of the hill. His silhouette, backlit by the setting sun, was bathed in reds and golds. His shoulders slumped, and he dropped to his knees. The anguished cry he let out ripped through Ren. He ran forward, pushing Ollie and Rowan out of his way. He tripped once, slipping on the ice, so his hands skidded. The fall didn’t stop him. He scrambled, boots kicking up snow, until he could sink next to Jakob’s side.

  Rubble spread out as far as he could see. A few buildings stood, but they listed under the weight of the snow. Ren wrapped his arms around Jakob’s shoulders, and Jakob clutched at him, burying his face in Ren’s neck. His body shook, and his hands clenched the fabric of Ren’s jacket.

  Jakob howled. Ren didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was anything he could say. He had no comfort to offer. Grief and pain surged in his middle, and his star sparked, but there was nowhere for it to go. There was no tech to draw from, no machine to flee into, to hide from the emotions raging inside him.

  He didn’t know the others stood beside them until Pen knelt behind him and wrapped her arms tight around them.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice watery. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We need to move,” Rowan said. “Let’s go down there and see what we can find. I know it’s tough, boys, but we’re not safe standing in the open on this hill.”

  “On your feet,” Ollie said, gripping Ren’s upper arm and hauling him up. Asher and Penelope pulled Jakob to standing, but Ren gripped Jakob’s hand tight. Jakob rubbed at his cheeks. His face was flushed, and his eyes were bright with tears.

  Ren didn’t cry. Tears had been wrung out of him months ago. But his body trembled, and his knees were weak as they walked down the other side of the hill and into the village. Ren and Jakob had grown up here. They knew every inch of road and path and maneuvered them easily despite the broken bricks and the detritus in their way.

  “We should split up,” Ren said, his voice thick and scratchy. “Cover more ground.”

  Ren didn’t mention that Jakob had grown up on the other side of the village from him. They could take stock separately, instead of slowing one another down. They had led such different lives in the same place. Because of their class differences, Ren wasn’t prepared to share his sorrow with the only person who could come close to understanding.

  “Pen and Ollie go with Jakob. Asher and I will go with Ren. Meet in an hour by the big pile over there.” Rowan jerked her chin to what was once the town square and the mound of rubble which had been the council meeting place.

  Jakob moved like a ghost; his once-brisk steps were slow and reluctant. His face had gone pale. The flush of anger and pain had been replaced with a sickly look. He seemed hollowed out, as if what had made him Jakob had been scooped away. Ren squeezed his hand in a gesture of companionship and then let go.

  Ren had always been a dreamer, but since he’d been captured, been chased across the cluster, and merged with machines, he’d become pragmatic. Jakob had always held on to hope that the soldiers had been lying when he was told the village had been destroyed. After all, they had lied about blowing Ren out of the sky.

  But Ren had known there was little hope. He hadn’t known what he would find when he walked over the hill, but it wouldn’t be good. He’d held no illusions about what he would find, but he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t confirmed what he’d been told.

  Ren was reluctant to lead Rowan and Asher to his home on the outskirts of the village, where it was tucked away in a crescent-shaped copse. His determination to find out what happened to his family whipped away with the snow on the brisk wind.

  He stopped in front of what was left and put his hands in his pockets, desperate for something to hold on to. The door of the house stood, and the frame was held up by the crumbling sides. That was all, though. The roof was mostly gone; the sides had caved in. Its contents had been tossed into the street and the small yard, where they peeked through the snow.

  Ren tried the doorknob, and it was locked. He laughed, loud and half-hysterical, and Rowan and Asher pressed close to his sides.

  “This was where I grew up.” His voice sounded shredded, foreign to his own ears.

  Asher and Rowan exchanged a glance but said nothing. Ren didn’t blame them. He’d had no idea how to comfort Jakob, and they had no idea how to comfort him. Maybe there was no comfort to be had.

  He walked around the doorframe and stepped through a hole in the standing wall. With every step he took, his feet crunched on rubble mixed with mud and ice. A tinkle of glass made Ren bend down and dig with frozen fingers until he found a vid-still of him and Liam—too young and too happy—in front of the lake. Slowly, Ren stood and shook the picture free of the wood frame and broken glass.

  “Is that your brother?” Rowan asked.

  Ren nodded. His throat went tight and, suddenly, Ren realized his tears hadn’t dried up. He folded the picture and put it in his pocket. “I’d like to be alone for a bit,” he said. “To look around.” To mourn.

  “Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Asher asked. His voice was gentle, and Ren resisted recoiling from it.

  He peered at the destruction. He questioned the structural integrity of the building, but it had held on thus far. Ren was fairly certain he’d be okay, for a little while at least
.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll be right outside,” Rowan said and winced. “I mean, around the corner. Over there,” she amended, waving her hand. “Take your time.”

  Ren nodded, unmoved by her uncharacteristic awkwardness. He stood still as they ducked through an opening in the wall and disappeared. Turning his head to stare at the scorch marks on the wall, Ren ignored the last glance Asher cast his way. Once the sound of their footsteps faded, Ren walked through the remnants of his home.

  The last time he’d been here, he and Liam were racing through their chores, hoping to get out to the lake before the sun sank too low. An age had passed since then.

  He went into the room he and Liam had shared. He stared at the chest of clothes at the end of his bed and thought about stuffing his favorites into his pack. But he remembered Asher’s mother had bought him new clothes, clothes made of finer material that fit better, and he had no use for homespun rags.

  The bed that had been his was hidden beneath a fallen wall. Liam’s bed was cluttered with a few cheap books he had bought from another village kid. Ren fingered the pages. The sheets had shriveled, and the ink had run. The words were barely discernible. Liam would be furious they were ruined. He should put them in a drawer away from the elements. He should find the scrap of blanket Liam treasured and slept with constantly. He’d want that back. He should find the rock Liam had claimed was a meteorite and gave to him one birthday because it was a piece of a star. He should clean everything up for when they returned. He should… he should…

  Ren shook his head. He wasn’t staying here.

  He couldn’t stay here.

  He snatched a comic from the bed and stuffed it into his pocket with the picture. He backed out into the hallway. The clench on his heart was painful. He swallowed the sorrow and moved to the room his mother and stepfather had shared. It was mostly intact, but the roof threatened to bow under the gathering snow.

  Ren fell to his knees, shoved his arm under the bed, and felt for the keepsake box his mother kept there. It would have things his mother held dear, and though he might not have any emotion tied to them, his mother did. That would be enough.