by F. T. Lukens
Asher gazed at Ren, searching.
Ren shrugged. “I don’t want to be stuck here. And if I stay, I will be. And I… I don’t want to lose you. And the family I’ve built.”
“Are you sure?” Asher asked.
“No. I’m not.” Ren took a breath. “I’m not well on the ship. I’m a liability, a prisoner to the Corps there. But I don’t belong here either.” He swallowed. “I’ve outgrown it here. And Liam is still out there. But I….” Ren trailed off.
“Face it, Ren. We don’t belong here. I don’t want to leave my sisters, but they are safe. And I have other things to look for.”
Ren nodded. “Yeah. Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “I wish I had a place where I belonged.”
Asher touched the back of Ren’s hand. “We’ll leave and if we don’t find a place, we’ll make one.”
“But what about…” Ren trailed off. He hadn’t heard anyone mention Sorcha’s name.
Jakob kicked the firewood again. “She’s not here, Ren. No one has seen her. I asked about her family and… well… apparently there is a gravesite at the village.”
“I know.”
Jakob pressed his lips together. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Because I didn’t want to take away your hope.”
Jakob nodded. He tossed a twig into the flames. “I am going to keep looking for her. I’m not going to give up.” He sighed. “So what happened with you? I saw you two had made up.”
“We’re working on it,” Asher said.
“My mother and I had an argument,” Ren said. He tilted his head and looked at the canvas above him. It blocked the stars. A spot in Ren’s chest ached because he couldn’t trace the familiar patterns. “About what I am.”
“She knew, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Sucks.”
“Understatement.”
They sat in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire, and the distant hum of the encampment. Asher held out his arm, and Ren squirmed to his side, enjoying the closeness while lost in his thoughts. He laid his head on Asher’s shoulder and watched the flickering flames. His eyes became heavy-lidded. Emotional and physical exhaustion caught up with him. He slipped into a doze, curled into Asher’s body.
Ren dreamed. He couldn’t make out the setting. The area was dark save for a small light. But he wasn’t afraid. The dark wasn’t ominous, but merely there, a void. He squinted into the distance, and a blob of color appeared, but it had no shape, and the longer Ren stared, the harder it was to discern anything about the figure. However, he would swear he heard Liam’s voice. “This is much harder when you’re not connected to your own power.”
“Liam?”
Before he could receive a response, Ren was shaken awake, and he snapped to the present.
“Ren?”
“I’m awake,” he grumbled.
“Sure you are,” the voice was not Asher’s or Jakob’s.
Ren craned his neck to see Beatrice, her hands on her hips, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and sticking up in places to create a halo in the firelight.
“I hear you weeds want to get out of here.”
“Where did you hear that?” Ren asked. He sat up, pulled from Asher’s embrace, self-conscious under her knowing stare.
“A little bird told me. Sound travels in the hot box. Might want to keep your voices down next time.”
“What’s it to you?” Jakob said.
Beatrice arched an eyebrow. “We’re going on a supply run to the castle in the morning. If you haven’t noticed, we could do with comms and alarm systems, maybe even force-field tech for the entrance. You weeds want to come?”
Jakob and Ren exchanged a look. It would give them a purpose, at least for a while, and delay them having to make a decision to leave Erden altogether. They could help the encampment while using the time to think about their own destinies.
“You could look for clues,” Ren said. “Maybe find a trail from where Sorcha escaped.”
Ren knew any trail would be long gone, trampled over, broken up by weather and the change of the seasons, but Ren couldn’t take away Jakob’s hope, not when Ren clung to his own.
“And you could have breathing space,” Jakob replied.
Ren gathered his legs beneath him and stood. He was slightly taller than Beatrice, and she crossed her arms.
“We’ll go.”
“Good. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Do you have a place where we can sleep?”
She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t question that they would not sleep with their families.
“We have a communal area with free beds. You can doze there.”
They followed Beatrice into the heart of the camp. Asher placed a hand on Ren’s shoulder, and Ren was bolstered by the touch.
* * *
Ren settled down at Asher’s side in the communal tent. Though he was exhausted, Ren couldn’t sleep, but Asher’s soft snores were a calming rhythm in his ear. His mind flitted from thought to thought, flinched from his mother’s duplicity, and wondered what his brother could do, whether he knew his power, and where he might possibly be. He thought about going back to the citadel, and asked himself if that was a wise choice. Maybe they should go to the spaceport instead and leave, leave this place where Ren didn’t fit, where Ren would remain for his lifetime, if his family had their choice.
That was what stung the most. He had talked nonstop about leaving, about working on the drifts, about honing a skill that would be marketable, that would earn him passage. His parents had heard every word, often at the dinner table after a long day of shearing or planting or harvesting. What had they thought when he babbled about the contrails he had seen that day? Why had they remained silent? Had they cared? Ren gave up trying to sleep. He slid off the cot and the blanket and stood.
Asher stirred immediately. His eyes blinked open in the low light of the banked fires. “Ren?” He smacked his lips. “You okay?”
“Fine. Stretching. Go back to sleep.”
Asher huffed. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Asher rolled over, pulled the thin blanket up to his ears, and dropped into sleep on the next snore.
Ren left the communal area, which was just a large tent in the middle of the camp with several beds. Beatrice explained it was a good place for guards on duty to sleep between shifts and a transitional place for new refugees before their own accommodations could be arranged. They’d had a steady stream of new people for a while, from different villages, but the numbers had decreased once winter struck. Ren understood why. He wouldn’t have wanted to search for a hidden encampment in the middle of winter either, unless he absolutely had to.
Ren wandered a few feet from the tent and stretched his arms over his head. His shirt rode up; goosebumps bloomed over the skin of his stomach in the cooler air away from the fires. He yawned and sighed and looked up at the canvas. He frowned. As silly as it seemed, he did miss the view of the stars. He sighed and imagined the twinkle of the constellations against the blue-black sky.
A twig snapped to Ren’s left, and he turned quickly, peering into the darkness. “Is someone there?” he whispered. He took a few steps toward the sound. His bare feet were noiseless on the packed dirt and moss. “Hello—”
A hand clamped over his mouth, cutting off his speech and his air, and a strong arm wrapped around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides. He yelled against the gloved palm, twisted and turned in the iron grip, but his captor lifted Ren off the ground. He fought, kicked his legs, and threw his head back only to find a hard shoulder, but the arms held him, crushing Ren to a strong chest. Fingers dug into his jaw, and it hurt.
Ren lashed out with his power, but found no tech, nowhere for his star to go. He could only thrash and make noise as he was dragge
d to the outskirts of the camp, out of sight of the communal tent, away from the banked fires.
“Quit struggling.” The voice was frustrated and fierce, loud in the shell of Ren’s ear, but hushed.
Ren froze. His stepfather’s large hands clutched him, and they were not gentle, but Ren didn’t think he would hurt him. He held himself stiff and tense, waiting. His stepfather dragged him to the very edge of the encampment, where the trees began to grow thick and the canvas drooped. A line of snow marked the end of the hot box, and Ren shivered as they crossed it. They came to a small break in the branches, and his stepfather stopped.
“Set him down.”
Ren’s bare feet sank into the snow. The cold stung his skin, and when he was finally let go, he wrapped his arms around his body. His breath came in fraught, cloudy puffs.
“Mom?”
She held a candle but it barely illuminated the space. The darkness was dense under the twined branches of the Laurels. Ren glanced up and spied the broken moon.
“Yes. I needed to talk to you.”
Ren’s mouth dropped open, and he settled his incredulous gaze on the cloaked figure of his mother. “Are you serious? You had to kidnap me? What the weedin’ hell?”
“I had to get you away from that birdman you are traveling with. I couldn’t talk to you in front of him.”
Ren narrowed his eyes, but didn’t confirm Asher’s identity. Beatrice had warned them sound traveled in the hot box, and it seemed his mother had heard Asher refer to himself as Phoenix Corps. Ren looked at his stepfather, who stood nearby, arms crossed, watching intently, and his expression was confirmation.
“And the best way to do that was to make me think I was being captured again?”
“We don’t have time for you to be difficult.”
Irritation flared, but Ren didn’t speak. He clenched his jaw and gestured for her to continue.
“You cannot trust the Phoenix Corps.” She stepped forward and grasped Ren’s wrist. “I know you want to, but you cannot trust him.”
“Why?”
“Because he does not have your best interests at heart.”
Ren pulled his hand away. “And you do? I’m supposed to believe you?”
“You don’t know everything that has happened.”
“Then tell me,” Ren shot back. “Stop being cryptic and stop thinking I’m too young or I can’t handle it, because I can. I’ve been kidnapped, tortured, threatened, and I’ve been possessed by a ship which has slowly driven me insane. I think I deserve a reason.”
“You do. I’m sorry for everything that has happened. It wasn’t my intention for you to ever have to be involved with all of this.” She cast a glance around them. “When the technopaths were destroyed after they rose against the drifters, the other star hosts fled to the planets. Our ancestors dispersed, hid themselves, and destroyed any record of their existence. They disappeared among the dusters and passed down their history and knowledge through stories.”
“They became myths like the ones you used to tell me and Liam.”
She nodded. “Yes. It was their way of hiding while The Phoenix Corps hunted them.”
Ren furrowed his brow. “The Phoenix Corps hates coming planetside. They don’t want to meddle in our affairs. That’s how Vos managed to get away with what he was doing for so long.”
His mother shook her head. “Vos knew the truth to the legends. He knew that there were star hosts on this planet and on others. He knew that they would be the key to his plans. But with his rash actions, and, I wager, due to your own experiences with the Corps, the birdmen are back and searching.”
Ren swallowed. “Vos’s soldiers told Jakob they destroyed the village looking for me. Is that true?” Ren asked, voice low. “Who killed Sorcha’s family?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
Ren steeled himself for the answer he already knew. Vos had lied before; it wouldn’t have been out of character for him to lie again to ensure allegiance, to crush the recruits’ hopes.
“Vos’s soldiers did come back looking for more recruits. But that was normal. They came, took what they wanted, and left.”
“The Corps came later.” Ren’s voice was thick; he choked on the words.
“A few months after Vos retreated. They had already destroyed some of the other villages in the fiefs, so we were prepared. The Laurels was already set as one of the encampments.”
Ren’s knees went weak. He grasped one of the trees, felt the bark smooth beneath his palm, and fell heavily against it. The cold was forgotten.
“They cannot be trusted, Ren. They are here to find others like you, like us, and destroy us before we can destroy them.”
Ren rubbed a hand over his chest. “But the scrap of cloth you keep, the insignia. My father.”
“That is how I know you cannot trust your friend. I loved your father. I trusted him. But he was Corps and here for a reason. When he tried to betray me, your stepfather intervened.”
Ren shifted. His feet burned from the cold. His arms were numb. His thoughts were in turmoil. He looked at his stepfather. “Did you kill him?” His throat worked, and he glared, looking for anything in his expression that might tell him the truth. “Did you kill him?” Ren said again, voice hard, incensed.
“Ren! Ren! Where are you?”
Worried and sharp, Asher’s voice pierced through the trees.
“What other encampments? There are others? Where?”
His stepfather spoke. “I’ll not allow you to lead him to the others. It’s bad enough he knows of us.”
“Are you going to kill him, too?” Ren snapped.
His stepfather bristled, but Ren ignored him. He turned back to his mother. “I’m leaving in the morning. I won’t ever be back. I’m going to find Liam. I’m going to find a place to belong.”
“You can stay with us, love. You can always stay.”
“No.”
Jakob’s voice joined Asher’s, calling out for Ren.
“When I was in that cell and scared and wondering what was going on with me, I wished, I wished so much that I could be home, that I could see you again, that you could at least know what happened to me. Even though I never fit in here, even though I dreamed of leaving, I thought if I could get home, everything would be okay. But this whole time, all you’ve done is lie to me and manipulate me. You’re just like Vos. You’re just like the Corps.”
“We’re nothing like them. We love you and we only have your best interests at heart. We want you to be safe.”
Ren laughed, the sound hollow. “That’s what I thought I wanted, too. But being safe here is just another prison. I’d rather take my chances out there. At least I’ll be free.”
“You can be free here.” Her voice took on a pleading edge.
“No. I can’t. I’ve done so much, seen so much, met so many people who do care for me. I can’t imagine staying here.”
Tears spilled down his mother’s cheeks, and she didn’t wipe them away. They glistened in the candlelight. When she reached for him, he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He allowed the hug, allowed her to clutch her hands in the back of his shirt and rest her forehead on his shoulder. He allowed it, but he didn’t hug her back. He stood unmoving as stone and waited for her to say goodbye. When she let go, Ren gave her a nod. He left the small clearing, passed his stepfather without saying a word, and stepped back into the hot box.
Asher’s voice echoed in the enclosed area. Chest tight, body taut, Ren was a powder keg, but he clamped down on the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He bit his lip and followed Asher’s frenzied voice. He was unable to call back lest the sobs building in his throat let loose.
“There you are!” Asher said, striding toward him, wrapping him in an embrace. “Stars, you’re freezing.” Asher rubbed Ren’s arms; his palms swept
over the chilled skin. “Where have you been? You left and never came back. Jakob and I have been looking all over for you.”
Ren pitched forward, planted his face in Asher’s chest, and shook. The terror at being taken again mixed with the crushing truths from his parents overwhelmed him.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Asher pulled Ren close. “What happened? Was it a dream? Sleepwalking?”
Ren stilled. Pressed close to Asher’s body, it would be easy to give into the urge to tell him everything, to spill the truth about what his parents had said about the Corps and the star hosts, and the history his life was mired in. But his mother’s words lingered in the back of his mind, and Ren remembered how Asher had sided with VanMeerten so many times since the debacle on the drift. Asher was Phoenix Corps, through and through. His allegiance was split, torn between Ren and his duty as a soldier. And how much did he know? Was Asher aware that the first mission of the Corps was to hunt down the scattered remnants of the star hosts? Or did he only know what he had been told, like the rest of them?
Ren heaved a breath, pulled himself together, and stepped away. He wiped at his eyes.
“I had another talk with my mother,” he said.
Asher raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. It didn’t go well.”
“What did she say?”
“Goodbye.”
Asher’s expression shifted from disdainful caution to sympathy, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “I’m sorry.”
Ren waved him off. “It’s fine.”
“It’s really not.”
Ren scrubbed at his face. He yawned and his jaw cracked. “I should try to get some sleep. It’s still early.”
“Good idea. I’ll let Jakob know you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
Ren shuffled away, but Asher’s voice stopped him. “And Ren? It’ll be okay. We’ll help your village, and then we’ll go back to the ship. We’ll figure it out.”
Ren’s stomach roiled: back to the ship, back to being a different kind of prisoner. “Okay.”
Asher smiled.
Ren forced a grin, and went to his cot.
He tossed and turned until the sky lightened with the dawn.
