Ghosts & Ashes

by F. T. Lukens

  Ren wanted to protest. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Ollie slapped his shoulder. “Trust us. We’ve got your back.”

  Ren swallowed. “Okay.”

  “Meet us at the dock for dinner. Ship’s time.” She pointed a finger at Asher, then at Ren. “Keep each other safe. Don’t eat or drink anything you’re unsure of. Don’t get involved with anything other than what you’re here to do, and, for the love of the stars, don’t do anything stupid.”

  Asher frowned, but nodded.

  Rowan and Ollie left together. Rowan sauntered out, straightening her clothes and checking her weapon before leaving the building and going beyond the chain. Ollie was right behind her, and he tossed a wave and a grin over his shoulder before disappearing.

  Ren sat stiff in his chair. The awkward silence was stifling, and he would’ve preferred the cacophony beyond the rope. Asher continued to frown. Millicent sat blankly.

  “So,” Ren started.

  Millicent abruptly stood. “I know a place.”

  She tiptoed her way to the door and Ren scrambled to follow with Asher next to him. They bumped shoulders. Asher glared. Ren’s heart sank. Rowan’s fierce words rang in Ren’s ears.

  This was going to be impossible.

  * * *

  Millicent led them to a row of turnstiles. She flitted to one, trailed her fingers along the mechanism, and made it turn. Ren followed, using a tendril of power to allow him to pass. He did the same for Asher, and then the three of them were on a platform with a transport in front of them.

  “This way,” Millicent said.

  The doors opened. A stream of people piled out of the train, and Millicent squirmed between them, hopping on. Ren and Asher made it through as the doors slid closed; the back of Ren’s jacket caught between them. He tugged it free, bumped into several people, and stammered apologies as he made his way to Millicent.

  “Where are we going?” Ren asked, grabbing for the pole next to him as the transport lurched forward.

  Millicent half-smiled. “To the end of the line.”

  “And how long will that take?” Asher shuffled closer to Ren as a few people moved to empty seats. Ren did his best not to lean into him.

  “A while.”

  13

  By the time the transport pulled to a screeching stop hours later, Ren, Millicent, and Asher were the only ones left in the car save for an individual stretched along the back wall asleep. Millicent stepped to the door and waited for it to open. A comm crackled to life, and the conductor’s voice filled the metal tube, issuing a warning.

  “This is the end of the line. Proceed at your own risk. These tunnels are exposed to the atmosphere. This transport will now return to base.”

  The doors slid jerkily open. They stepped out. The station was dark, but not abandoned. A few people milled around the space. A few boarded the train, and others wandered, talking to people, dragging boxes and sacks of items. They wore goggles and fabric tied tightly around their noses and mouths. They had hats or head coverings, and their clothes covered them from neck to toes, even their hands.

  “Scavengers from the surface,” Millicent whispered.

  “Should we be dressed like that?” Ren asked.

  “We’ll be fine,” she said, leading them across the station and into another tunnel.

  Ren exchanged a glance with Asher. Asher shrugged and brushed past him, following Millicent farther into the dark.

  Ren sighed. They were definitely not making it back to the Star Stream in time for dinner. Rowan would be furious.

  They walked for several meters and the air became thicker, heavier. Ren squinted and saw spots of natural light beaming in through cracks in the ceiling. Pulling up the collar of his shirt, Ren placed it over his mouth and nose as they ventured deeper. The smell gradually became oppressive, as it had been on the landing pad, and Asher’s face grew more pinched the farther they went..

  Ren settled into his power, allowed it to flood through him, and probed the surrounding area, looking for whatever Millicent was leading them to. It didn’t take him long to figure it out.

  “I feel it,” he said. He walked faster, jogged ahead of Millicent and Asher.

  He sensed it. Pulsing with power and electricity, the blueprint was mapped out in front of him. It was a communications tower. Its roots dug into the earth, connected to an underground grid which stretched for miles and miles, but that wasn’t what Ren needed. He spiraled upward, up and up, tendrils clamoring over each other, sizzling toward Crei’s polluted sky.

  Ren skidded to a stop in front of a ladder attached to the wall. He jumped onto the first rung and heaved his body up each step, heedless of Asher and Millicent calling behind him.

  He wasn’t strong enough to hoist the heavy metal cover off the access hole, but it was cracked and large chunks were missing. The holes were large enough for Ren to squeeze through. His clothes caught on jagged edges, but he wiggled until he pushed through the tunnel to the planet’s surface.

  He gagged, even through the fabric of his shirt. He shielded his eyes from the sun crackling through the smog, seeming to light it on fire, and creating waves of heat that shimmered in the distance. He pulled free and stood on the ground with orange ash and gravel and dust beneath the heels of his boots. He stood at the foot of the tower, a black hunk of metal rising from the surface, stark against the sky. But as he stood there, craning his neck skyward, he was also in the tower, streaking to the top and into the console, which was soaked in the noise of the planet.

  Sound moved through him in waves, crashing over him like foam and spray in the lake. It was overwhelming at first, as though he had inhaled water—wrong and painful. But after a moment, he was able to filter the information, layer upon layer, siphoning out the relevant. He sorted through thousands of communications in a second. They burst through him, into his blood, into his bones, and then were propelled into the world. He was a conduit of information, of power, of light, of plans and messages.

  He didn’t realize Asher and Millicent had joined him until Asher’s hand ghosted over his shoulder and Millicent’s fingers brushed his. And then she was present with him, there in the tower. Her own star signature was a touch, a brush, against his, familiar from all their time in the Star Stream together.

  And while Ren sorted and devoured information and was consumed by the funnel of communications, she rifled and hovered. He stacked, and she shoved; his organization fluttered around them like paper.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  She ignored him, flitting around him like a gnat. She burst through another set of information, disrupting Ren’s process, but when she did, Ren caught a sound.

  He turned his head, saw Crei awash in blue, and listened.

  “What do you hear?” Millicent demanded.

  Ren shushed her.

  Vos’s voice rang in his ears, familiar and discomfiting. He dug through the static and the encryption—Vos was more careful here than he’d been on Erden—until he found the words. “Regroup on the west abandoned line. Beneath the holy ruins…”

  Ren didn’t hear the rest of the message. He was cut off, then forcibly shoved out of the system. Millicent pushed and sparked, ejecting him. Gasping, gagging, his head pounding with pain, Ren fell to his knees with his fingers curling in the rough dirt.

  “Ren! Ren, what happened?”

  Ren clutched a hand over his mouth as he shivered with sweat and his stomach heaved. He bent over, elbows scraping along the ground.

  Asher followed him down. “What’s going on?”

  “Millicent,” he gasped. “She pushed me out. We found a message and she…” Bile rose in Ren’s mouth, and his stomach clenched.

  Above him, Millicent swayed, eyes glowing, face blank.

  “Ren? Are
you okay?”

  Ren pulled his shirt from his face and spat. Stars, he felt awful, as if a sudden illness had overtaken his body. His star curled trembling in his chest.

  Millicent had done this to him before. On Mykonos, when she was under Abiathar’s power, when she was more star than human, before Asher was able to break her free. She had the ability to force Ren from the systems. Was she able to pull him in as well? Was she the other one Liam had alluded to in their shared dream? The one who dragged him under water, into the ship, during his dreams?

  Ren blinked. Their plan hadn’t worked. She hadn’t disconnected when she left the ship, as Ren had. There was too much tech on Crei, and now Millicent was home, where she had learned to control her star.

  “Oh, no,” he said.

  Millicent’s gaze snapped to him, eyes blazing blue, and then she shuddered. She shook; her long hair tossed every which way. She stopped and stood still.

  Asher moved toward her.

  “Don’t touch her,” Ren said. “She’ll hurt you.”

  Asher absently touched his shoulder. “Millicent,” Asher said softly, “what do you call—”

  Millicent turned on her heel and ran. From one moment to the next she went from standing like a statue to sprinting over the barren surface of the planet.

  Ren jumped to his feet and sped across the dead landscape, darting through half-broken buildings and flat, barren red land. She was faster; her trick had left Ren weak and stumbling as she leapt over obstacles with her dark hair flying behind her. Ren sucked in the metallic air, coughing and sputtering. The bite was horrible. It burned his throat and chest. He gagged again and bent over with his hands on his knees as he spat out the taste.

  Asher passed him; his chest heaved, but his stride was fast and even.

  “Come on, Ren. Even if we don’t catch her, we have to get out of this air.”

  Ren nodded, wondering how Asher had been so far behind, and sprinted again. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he bit down on his lip to keep his mouth closed.

  Millicent was far ahead of them now, a figure on the landscape with the pink and orange sky behind her as well as the sprawling remains of several buildings. She skidded to a halt on a gravel patch and bent down.

  Ren squinted, and saw the lid at her feet. She pulled it open and disappeared into the ground.

  “She went down,” Ren yelled.

  It was becoming difficult to see through his watering eyes, but Ren felt Asher’s presence ahead of him, close by.

  “I saw. Let’s go.”

  Together they popped the lid open. Ren slid in first, bypassing the built-in ladder and falling the short distance to the bottom. He landed on his feet, but fell backward as his boot slid on broken stones.

  Asher came behind him, pulling the cover closed from his position on the ladder and encasing them in darkness.

  Ren sat, legs and feet aching, eyes and nose dripping. He couldn’t catch his breath. He rubbed his chest and coughed. He spat again and wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. “You okay?” he croaked.

  Asher was nearby. Ren heard the crunch of his footsteps and the short, staccato sound of his breathing. “Fine.” His voice was raspy. “I would be better with light.”

  Ren closed his eyes and reached out with his power, looking for any tech. He found some and pushed into it, fixing what he needed, and, in a few seconds, the lights hummed on. The tunnel lit up and he peeked to find a long line of embedded rope lights in the ceiling following the length of the tunnel.

  “It’s an abandoned transport tunnel,” Asher said.

  Ren stood. He brushed off the dirt, wiped his face again, and glanced at Asher. He looked as bad as Ren felt. His eyes were bloodshot, and his blond hair looked brown and streaked from the dirt. Tear tracks stained his cheeks.

  Asher looked at Ren; his expression seemed concerned. His stomach full of sparks, Ren bit his lip as Asher swept his gaze along Ren’s frame. Finding him uninjured, Asher’s unease disappeared, and the flat affect he had worn since Erden slid into place.

  Ren’s heart sank. He swallowed and turned his attention to the tunnel. It had obviously been abandoned for a long time. The tech was old and dusty, corroded in a few places, and the interior was just as bad. Boulders and rocks littered the tracks, water had gathered in puddles in a few places, and they heard squeaks of local creatures. Even with the glow of the lights above them, the gloom was thick, but the at least the air was clean. Air recyclers were on somewhere.

  “She went this way,” Ren said, tripping his way down the dark tunnel. He stumbled over a large rock and caught himself on the carved wall.

  Asher caught his bicep and steadied him. He panted, his breathing staccato. “How do you know?”

  “I can feel her star.”

  “We should find a way back to Rowan,” Asher said, but he didn’t stop feeling his way down the tunnel. “There has to be a connection to a running track.”

  “And leave Millicent to run to Vos? Who knows what she’s thinking. She could tell him where I am and who I’m with. She could be confused. I don’t know.”

  “She’s slipped, Ren. You know that. She’s worse off than Nadie was.”

  “Yeah, and I felt guilty enough leaving Nadie. I don’t want Millicent to be that way too.”

  “You can’t save everyone, Ren. You never could.”

  Ren jerked his arm away from Asher’s grasp. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  “Apparently, I do.”

  “Then leave, Ash. Leave and find a way back. I’ll join you later if I can.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Why? There’s no reason for you to stay. You’ve made that clear.”

  Asher made a hurt noise. “You’re a cog, you know that?” he said, voice thick and strange. “I have every reason.”

  Ren huffed. He ducked under a leaning and broken support, shuddering as he imagined what might happen if the pillar gave way completely. The farther they journeyed, the more Ren understood the reasons for abandoning this particular tunnel. A cave-in was imminent, judging by the sagging supports and the debris littering the ground.

  “We pick the worst times to argue,” Ren said, following a curve in the tracks.

  “I’m not arguing.”

  Ren rolled his eyes. “No, you’re being yourself.”

  “Ren,” Asher said, voice low, “did you ever think about how we were able to leave Delphi?”

  Ren’s throat went tight. “I thought about it a lot, and I decided that if you didn’t want to tell me, then I didn’t want to know.”

  “You’re a powerful being who the Phoenix Corps wanted under their control. I was considered AWOL.”

  “Was considered?” Ren asked. Then he stopped, the realization sudden. “You gave them you.” He turned to look at Asher, really look at him. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “Why have I done anything since the prison cell?”

  Ren’s heart ached. “I don’t—”

  “You!” Asher threw his arms out to the side. “You. Okay. Telling VanMeerten about your nightmares got you back home. Following you and Jakob in the snowstorm was to ensure your safety. Revealing myself to Zag was to give you time to escape. And yes, I gave them me.”

  Ren crossed the space between them and grabbed Asher in a fierce hug. He wrapped his arms around Asher’s shoulders, and Asher clutched him back, clenched his fists in the fabric of Ren’s jacket.

  “You shouldn’t have done that. Your year was almost up, and you gave them more time.”

  Asher nodded curtly. “Yes. Among other things.”

  “What other things? What else did they want? Ash?” Ren stepped back and grabbed Asher’s hand. “What else?”

  He didn’t get a chance to answer. The high whine of charging weapons interrupted them, and Ren cursed himself for
missing the ping of tech so nearby. He turned to find a group of soldiers leveling weapons at them; the red slash of the Baron’s standard was on their shoulders.

  Reeling from the revelation, Ren swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Well, we found him,” he said, holding up his hands.

  Asher sighed.

  “Take me to Vos.” Ren demanded, sticking out his chin.

  “Why should we?”

  Ren let his eyes glow blue. “He’ll want to talk with me.”

  “Holy stars,” one of them whispered. “Two in one day.”

  Ren shared a glance with Asher before he was pushed forward; the end of the stunner was a blunt force between his shoulder blades.

  “Get going.”

  They walked. One of the guards took point, and Ren and Asher followed with the others trailing behind them. For once, Ren wasn’t afraid. This was what he wanted. He had Asher at his side. He could disable the weapons if needed. And he was going to finally talk to Vos.

  They took a turn into an offshoot of the track, a narrower arched hallway, which widened into a larger space. It looked as though it was once a control center and was filled with screens and maps of the tunnels. On the map, Ren noted they were much closer to the tower where the Star Stream was docked than he had realized. Ren slowed, noting the pattern of the map and their position, before receiving a poke in the back to keep going. They went through another doorway.

  The platform had been cleared, though a few turnstiles remained. There was a stone raised area and on it sat a shabby throne.

  Vos sat there, legs crossed, hunched over. He rested one elbow on his raised knee; his chin was in his hand. His black hair was shorn close to his head, different than at the citadel, but it was him. He wore an outfit similar to the ones Ren had seen on the people of Crei—long sleeves and pants and boots, simple and dark, though a red slash adorned his shoulder—a mark of his standard. He seemed bored, with a blank expression on his thin face, but his sharp gaze landed on Ren and Asher. While he didn’t seem surprised, a slow smile spread across his lips.