by F. T. Lukens
Sorcha took a breath. “Where are we going? Where am I taking you?”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Jakob said. He had his arm around Ezzy, and he held his sister close to his side. “I’ve found you and I’m not letting you go.” He dropped a kiss to Ezzy’s hair. “Either of you.”
Sorcha gave him a soft, fond smile. Ren crossed his arms, clutched at his body, and hoped to hold himself together.
“Ren and I need a spaceport. We have to leave. There’s no question now,” Asher said.
“Why? Why can’t Ren stay with us?” Jakob demanded. “He belongs on Erden. We’ll protect him.”
Ren shuddered. “Because they won’t stop looking if they think I’m here,” Ren said, softly. “They’ll burn all of Erden to the ground searching. You’ll all be at risk.”
“Let them try. We’ll fight. We’ll keep you safe.”
“No, no, please. I can’t… I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s death.” Ren blinked; the image of Beatrice lifeless in the snow flashed in front of him.
Jakob’s gaze flickered between Ren and Asher. Ren saw sorrow, fear, and protest in the angry twist of his mouth and the glitter of his blue eyes.
But Sorcha nodded. “I can get you close to a port.” She paused. “Ren?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, that’s good. I’m good. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do the things everyone needed me to do.”
“It’s okay,” she squeezed his hand. “We’ve survived without you and we will continue to survive. You’ve brought Jakob back to me. You’ve given us a chance to unite the encampments, if not the tech. And we have a floater. That’s more than what we had.”
Ren nodded. The platitudes was an insufficient balm for the turmoil that swirled within him, but at least it soothed him for a moment.
Sorcha eased the floater out of the small hiding place on the edge of the woods. With part of the group piled in the front cab and the rest in the flat bed, Sorcha piloted slowly, carefully. She was unused to the controls, but grew more confident.
Ren lost track of time. It was an instant and an eternity when Sorcha eased the floater to a stop.
“We risk too much going farther,” she said. “The port is over the hill and down.”
“We know,” Asher said. He disembarked, stepping over Jakob and Ezzy and jumping down to the ground. Ren followed.
Jakob untangled from Ezzy’s grip and stepped out of the cab, hopping down into the leaves. “Ren,” he said. He toed the ground, leaving scuffs in the snow and dirt. “Thank you for helping me, for being my friend.”
Ren swallowed around a tight throat. “You, too.”
Jakob chuckled. “Who’d have thought I’d be best friends with the weird kid?”
Ren shrugged. “Who’d have thought I’d be best friends with the rich kid with the big mouth?” he said, mustering a smile.
Jakob laughed outright. “Come here, you weed.” He pulled Ren into a tight hug. Ren returned it heartily, holding on a fraction longer than necessary. Shared grief and a tinge of desperation were in the clutch of their arms.
“You be careful,” Jakob said, low. “And if things don’t work out with Asher, you can marry Ezzy and be my brother.”
“I don’t need to marry Ezzy to be your brother.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Jakob squeezed hard and then let go and stepped away.
Ren nodded toward the floater. “Take care of them.”
“I think Sorcha has that covered, but I’ll try not to hinder her too much.” Jakob climbed back into the floater and settled in the seat. He gave Asher a nod, then winked at Ren, gracing him with a final smirk.
Ren’s heart squeezed. They were the last remnants of his home, and he didn’t know if he’d see them again. He took a stuttered breath. “Goodbye, Jakob.”
“None of that. I’ll see you later, Ren. I will.”
Ren forced a smile. “Okay. Later. Until then.”
Jakob grinned. He patted the side of the floater, and Sorcha pulled away. Ren watched them leave, streaking across the landscape, until they were a speck on the horizon.
Ren turned to see Asher disappearing into a nearby bunch of trees. Ren followed; standing in the middle of the road wasn’t such a great idea, especially now.
Asher stopped in a small space between the trees and let out a loud sigh. He kicked a pile of snow and dead leaves. His anger finally spilling out. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’m listed as coggin’ AWOL. AWOL, Ren.”
Ren leaned on a tree. He was exhausted; the last hours were catching up to him as his adrenaline rush receded like the tide.
“I don’t know what that means, Ash.”
“Absent without leave! It means I’ve abandoned my post, my duty. I’m a deserter.”
Ren’s shoulders sagged. He rolled his head back against the bark. He was cold, and his breath hung in clouds. They should’ve stayed with Sorcha and Jakob, at least for the night; the sun now edged toward the horizon.
“Is that such a bad thing?” Ren’s head was fuzzy, and tiredness made his tongue loose.
The question went over as well as a lead balloon.
Asher moved quickly, suddenly looming in front of him. “What the stars does that mean? Of course it’s bad.”
“Are you sure? Or have you forgotten the part where the Corps left you on a planet by yourself for a year. Not to mention the fact that it’s obviously not the white tower of moral right you think it is.”
“You don’t get it. The Corps was everything I had. It was my family and my home. And now, I’m cast out, a fugitive. I can be arrested, captured, taken prisoner.”
Emboldened by his fatigue, Ren pushed off from the tree and stepped into Asher’s space. “Wow, I wonder how that feels?”
“It’s not the same thing, Ren. I’m not—”
“What? A star host? A threat?”
Asher clenched his jaw. His face flushed. His fingers curled into fists at his side.
Ren circled him, taunting, devastated yet unafraid. “You’re not dangerous, like me?”
“Fine,” Asher faced him. He jabbed his finger in Ren’s chest. “You want to go there? You want to have that argument right now?”
“Sure,” Ren shot back. He knocked Asher’s hand away. His body shook with spent adrenaline, exhaustion, and grief. “Right now. Let’s talk about how the organization that you hold the most allegiance to is here and killing people. They killed Beatrice, and they would have killed you today, if given the chance.”
“Okay, then let’s talk about why they are here. They’re here because you stupid dusters can’t govern your own damn planet and spawned a lunatic like Vos. The drifts were attacked, and they have every right to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“Really? That’s why you think they’re here? Because of Vos?”
“Why the stars else? It’s not like anyone wants to come to this backwater dirt sphere.”
Ren laughed. “Wow. And I thought I was kept in the dark. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Asher crossed his arms. “So you know information I don’t? I thought we were done keeping secrets.”
Ren scoffed. “As if you’re not keeping secrets from me.”
“If I am, it’s for your own good.”
“You’re an ass. You’re an arrogant drifter jerk, and sometimes there are moments when you fool me, and I think: No, he’s not so bad. But then you say crap like that.”
“Oh, come off it, Ren. If you know something, say it, or keep your mouth shut.”
Ren shook, and not from the cold. “They’re here to hunt star hosts. Happy now? They’re here to find people like me and wipe us out because that has been their purpose from day one, and because I saved a drift. They are terrified there are more like me out there, that there are more lik
e me here, in hiding.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Whoever told you that was lying. Stars, you’re gullible.”
“My parents are liars now?”
“Yes. Or did they not lie to you for most of your life already?”
“They did. So what? The Phoenix Corps killed Beatrice in front of us. They chased us and they tried to kill a young girl because she had tech they wanted. You can’t deny that.”
“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 conspi
racy 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.