Broken Moon Series Digital Box Set

by F. T. Lukens

  They hadn’t stopped moving since they’d escaped the castle, except once for a long nap in the dead of night, squished uncomfortably together in a hollowed-out tree. Ren had slept like the dead and could’ve kept sleeping, but Asher spurred him on. And Ren understood. The likelihood of their recapture increased the longer they stayed on the planet.

  Asher was undaunted in his quest to reach a spaceport. While Ren shared the sentiment, he wavered, mentally and physically unable to keep up with a Phoenix Corps-trained soldier even though Asher had spent the last year in a cell. At least they knew the general direction, having seen the contrails of ships leaving atmo.

  Ren felt more like himself. Without tech to merge with, Ren was once again connected to his body, corporeal, steady, even if it was so sore and so hungry he could barely keep going.

  Eyes half-closed, too tired to raise his head, Ren overlooked the dip in the road. He tripped and fell to his knees; the fabric of his stolen pants ripped and the skin underneath was scraped by the gravel of the path. They had emerged from the forest yesterday and now traveled in open country. The rolling hills and valleys were murder on Ren’s legs. They walked on a footpath next to the road. Even in the dying light of day, it was dangerous for two fugitives, but necessary. They had only encountered a few horse-drawn carts and one hovercraft thus far, and they had heard all of them in time to duck into the ravine that ran parallel to their route.

  Ren swayed. He tried to gather his legs under himself.

  “I can’t,” he said.

  Asher stopped. He came to stand by Ren’s side. “Get up. A little farther.”

  Ren shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” Asher gripped Ren’s bicep. He yanked Ren upward, and Ren pushed. Asher maneuvered them so Ren’s arm was slung over his shoulder and his was wrapped around Ren’s waist. “I know you’re tired.”

  Ren’s laugh bordered on hysterical. “Understatement.”

  “Yeah, okay, but look up.”

  Ren raised his head and blinked. He squinted in the orange sunset. In the distance, he could see the gleam of metal and the tall columns of towers scraping the wispy clouds. As he stared, a speck of a ship eased down through the sky and another rocketed through the atmo, leaving a white trail in its wake.

  “A space dock.”

  “See?” Asher said. “We’ll be there in a few hours. Then, I promise you can rest. We’ll find a spot to sack out while we wait for my sister.”

  Ren took a wobbly step forward. “I can do this.”

  “Yes. Yes, you can. Come on, Ren. A bit farther.”

  They walked twined together, and Ren realized Asher’s pep talk wasn’t for his benefit alone. The longer they moved, the heavier Asher became, and he could feel Asher’s fatigue in the tremble of his muscles and the heavy tread of his steps. Only once did they need to hide, and they collapsed in the ravine, hidden amongst tall grasses as the hover carriage passed.

  It took monumental effort to stand again and continue on their way.

  Finally, in the small hours of the morning, they stood on a gentle slope overlooking the spaceport. Despite the hour, lights flashed brightly, and it teemed with people and activity; drifters and spacers did not follow Erden’s clock.

  “Almost there,” Asher breathed. He rubbed his shoulder and winced.

  Ren breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t wait for a bed and food and water.

  “What are we waiting for?” Ren croaked.

  Asher mustered a smile. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  They crept down the slope, and as they approached the entrance, they both looked for any sign of the Baron’s guards. If he did indeed rule all five fiefs, there might be a contingent nearby, especially near a space dock. However, Ren and Asher spotted none near the entrance.

  “Act like you belong here,” Asher said, as they approached. “But don’t talk. Leave that to me.”

  Ren didn’t argue.

  They walked through the metal archway, and Ren had half a second to admire the structure, the flashing signs, the booths of wares, the bustle of the people, before they both pulled up short. Just inside was a group of the Baron’s soldiers, prods strapped to their waists, comms pinned to their uniforms, some wearing body armor and helmets, others carrying stunners. They talked and laughed, barely glancing as Ren and Asher walked in.

  “Plan B,” Asher whispered harshly, “keep your head down, keep walking, and we find a ship that is taking passengers and get the hell on it.”

  “What about your sister? We can’t afford passage.”

  “We’ll figure something else out. We can’t stay here,” Asher said. He grabbed Ren by the back of his shirt and dragged him to an information kiosk.

  Asher pulled up the dock manifest, quickly scrolling through the names of ships, their length of stay, their destination and if they were accepting passengers. Ren kept his hands curled into fists by his side. As tired as he was, with the sudden appearance of tech the tendril of power reached out, searching for anything to latch onto, and he wrestled it back with a grimace, teeth clenched. Everything buzzed or hummed or clicked and the noise traveled up from the soles of Ren’s feet to settle in his chest. He was a conduit; the star’s power ached to burst from his fingertips, and he shook to keep it in check, but as hard as he fought, it slipped out, like a leak in a pipe.

  “There,” Asher said, pointing to a name. “The Nomad. Slip twenty. Destination Nineveh Drift, taking passengers and leaving in the next six hours. That’s our ride.” He looked up and stopped short. “Your eyes.”

  Ren squeezed them shut. “I’m sorry, it’s overwhelming.”

  “Stars. I should’ve realized. We should have rested before we came.”

  “No, no we would’ve missed the Nomad. I can control it. I can.”

  Ren took a deep breath, calmed his racing heart and opened his eyes. It didn’t work. Everything was tinged blue.

  “Cogs,” Asher said, voice low. He reached out and touched Ren’s hand.

  It was the wrong thing to do, and Ren gasped. His power raced up Asher’s arm and into his shoulder. Asher snatched his hand away and looked at Ren as if he were something to be in awe of, afraid of.

  “Your shoulder is tech,” Ren said, voice a raspy croak.

  Mouth open, eyes wide, Asher rubbed his hand. He gulped once, then squared his shoulders and passed a hand over his face, and what Ren now recognized as Asher’s Phoenix Corps expression slipped into place. “We’re drawing attention.”

  Ren glanced at the Baron’s contingent and saw two of them staring in his direction. Ren looked away, but not before they started to cross the space between them and move toward the info kiosk.

  Stars, he needed to pull it together. He imagined shoving a stopper in the power leak, cutting off the stream. It hurt. He trembled and let out a whimper, and he knew bottling it up was going to be trouble in the end, but for the moment, it was what he needed to do.

  “We need to go,” Asher said. “Act normal and walk away slowly.”

  Ren nodded.

  He and Asher turned and started walking down the line of slips, intermingling with the crowd, trying to blend in.

  “Hey you!” one of the soldiers yelled.

  Ren kept walking.

  “You! Skinny guy, with the brown hair. I order you to stop!”

  “I think they mean me,” Ren said to Asher.

  “Don’t stop. Go a little faster.” They picked up their pace, knocking into people as they went, moving as quickly as they could short of sprinting.

  “Hey! I said stop.”

  The sound of a stunner charging was distinct despite the noise of the bustling station, and Asher gripped Ren’s wrist. He made sure to keep a layer of cloth between his touch and Ren’s skin.

  “Run,” Asher whispered harshly.

  They took off, ign
oring the shouts of the guards behind them, weaving in and out of the crowd, ducking around merchant stalls. Fueled by adrenaline, Ren kept up with Asher, but they were unable to ditch the guards. They turned a corner, and Ren spied an alcove, a slim slit in the wall, hidden in shadow. He turned sharply and yanked Asher in after him.

  The space was tiny, and Ren and Asher were aligned from shoulders to thighs, panting in the dark. Facing each other, pressed close, Ren could see the bruise-like circles under Asher’s eyes, the tired lines around his mouth and the fatigued set of his shoulders. The cut of his cheekbones was more pronounced after four days of constant movement and little food, but he remained alert, with his head turned to stare out of their small space.

  “Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see them. They must’ve doubled back.”

  “Come on. Let’s report to Abiathar. He’ll want to know.”

  Ren held his breath as the soldiers passed their hiding place. Ren and Asher stayed a few more minutes, making sure they were really gone.

  “Quick thinking,” Asher said.

  Ren inwardly preened. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to pass out.”

  “Not yet.” Asher’s expression was one of concern when he looked at Ren. “Almost. I haven’t forgotten my promise.”

  Ren smiled. “And you keep those?”

  “Always.”

  They squeezed out of the space, and Ren’s head spun. He needed rest, food, and water, and he’d take them in any order.

  “Come on. Slip twenty isn’t far.”

  They stayed as alert as possible, avoiding anyone who wore anything resembling the Baron’s uniform, and slowly made their way to the Nomad.

  It was a large ship, at least to Ren’s eyes, bigger than the lancer he had worked on in the hangar. There were no visible weapons, however, and the cargo bay acted as the entrance. Sitting at the end of the ramp was an older woman in coveralls. Her black hair was streaked with gray, and her smile was warm and friendly. She sat cross-legged on the ground, knitting needles in her dexterous hands.

  She gave them a once-over as they approached. Ren wondered what they looked like to her. Two dusters looking for passage? Two fugitives, dead tired from running? A drifter and a technopath?

  Her smile didn’t waver, though the corner of her mouth twitched.

  “Can I help you?”

  Asher stepped in front of Ren, angling his body to block her view of him. It was a protective gesture, and Ren was both annoyed and comforted by it.

  “We would like passage to Nineveh.”

  She set her knitting aside and stood. She was barefoot, and the patches on her worn coveralls were pictures of butterflies and kittens.

  “Five hundred credits or coin,” she said with a smile. “Each.”

  Asher cast a look over his shoulder at Ren. “We don’t have that much on us. But we can get it. After we get to Nineveh.”

  “No deal.”

  “Look,” Asher spread his hands, palms up. “We could really use some help. I can give you a thousand apiece once we get to the drift. That’s twice the potential fare of other passengers.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You two are cute, but no thanks. Ship doesn’t run on potential.”

  Asher stuck out his chin and placed his hands on his hips. “Two thousand. Please.”

  “Ah,” she said with a knowing nod. “You’re the troublemakers those soldiers were chasing, aren’t you? What do they have on you? Stealing? Murder? Piss someone off?”

  “Nothing like that,” Ren piped up.

  Asher glared over his shoulder and shook his head, a signal to shut up. The woman noticed. Her eyes softened.

  “He your brother? Friend?” she asked. “Did he get into trouble, and now you’re here to try and get him out of it?”

  “Something like that,” Asher said.

  “You remind me of my boys. A little rough around the edges, but good boys just the same, and if they were in trouble, I’d hope someone would help them out. But the risk isn’t worth the reward. You gotta give me something other than a promise of coin.”

  “I can fix your ship,” Ren blurted.

  Asher’s look was murderous.

  “Can you?” she asked, stepping forward. She ignored the way Asher’s whole body had stiffened, and the way his green eyes glittered dangerously. “You’ve worked on ships before?”

  “Yes.” It technically wasn’t a lie.

  “Our sensor array has been acting up recently. Think you can fix it?”

  “Yes.”

  She scratched her chin. “All right. We are leaving in six hours. You fix the array before we go, and you and your friend can have passage. And I will expect a thousand once we hit Nineveh. Apiece. Understand?”

  “My friend has to rest first,” Asher interrupted. “But I think we can manage the deal.”

  Her gaze flitted between them. “You both look a little worse for wear. You can share the empty crew quarters for a few hours. Then you fix the array,” she said, wagging her finger at Ren. “Or the deal’s off.”

  Ren nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

  “All right. Up the stairs to the right. Third door. I’m Cass, by the way. You can call me Captain.”

  “I’m Ash. This is Ren. Thank you, Captain.”

  She stepped out of their way and gestured toward the stairs. “Welcome aboard, boys.”

  Asher gripped Ren by the shoulder and they entered the expansive hold. Steering around a few boxes of cargo, Asher led Ren up metal stairs and into the crew hallway.

  “Don’t touch anything,” he said, as they opened the third door.

  The room was about the size of one of their cells, but there was a bed, with a mattress that didn’t smell like old hay. Ren swayed toward it, like a moth to moonlight.

  Asher closed the door behind them.

  “What the stars were you thinking?” His voice was quiet, but harsh; his eyebrows were drawn together. “Do you want everyone to know what you are?”

  If Ren could have mustered indignation, he would’ve, but he was too exhausted and relieved to try. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Asher admitted, slumping. “Can you fix the array?”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  “Yes, but you’re not doing it now. Rest for a few hours.”

  Ren groaned. Rest. A bed. Sleep. It sounded wonderful, and he sagged heavily to the bed. With clumsy fingers, he undid the laces of his boots, and then kicked them off.

  In the wall was a sink and Asher turned on the faucet. Clear water spewed out and he washed his hands, wiping off days’ worth of grime. Once his hands were clean, he cupped them and drank water right from the tap. He gulped it down; a trickle streamed from the side of his mouth and down his neck. In a daze, Ren tracked its progress.

  “Drink first,” Asher said, pulling Ren forward by his shirt. Ren noticed that Asher had not touched his skin, not since Ren had felt the tech in his shoulder.

  Ren washed, then drank and sighed in relief when the cool water slid down his parched throat. He drank until water sloshed uncomfortably in his empty belly.

  “Rest,” Asher said, pushing Ren toward the bed. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

  “You’re not going to sleep?”

  “I’ll keep watch. We’re still on Erden. Who knows what can happen?”

  Ren climbed on the bed and stretched out. It was like sleeping on a cloud, and he couldn’t believe their luck. There was even a pillow. “Are you sure? We can share.” He patted the space next to him, arm flopping, eyes already half-closed.

  Asher laughed. “I’ll take you up on it in a little bit. Sleep so you can fix the array without glowing.”

  Ren closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

  He was asleep before he heard Asher’s response. />
  * * *

  The pounding on the door woke Ren from a dead sleep. He sat up and looked about wildly, half expecting to see the rock walls and iron grid of the dungeon, and was surprised when he saw the smooth metal walls of the crew quarters.

  Asher shot up where he had fallen asleep while keeping watch.

  “We’re leaving in an hour,” Cass’s voice boomed. “That array needs to be ready or you’re being left behind.”

  “Sure thing!” Ren yelled back, sounding much more awake than he felt.

  Asher pushed the heel of his hand to his forehead and brushed back his blond locks. “What happened?” he asked, voice muzzy.

  Ren smiled. “You fell asleep, Mister I’m-Keeping-Watch.”

  “Stars,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. “I’ve never fallen asleep on watch.”

  Ren’s jaw cracked when he yawned. He stretched his arms over his head. “You’ve been awake for three days. It’s amazing we weren’t both hallucinating.”

  “I’m not so sure we’re not. Are we really on a ship?” Asher spread his hand against the hull. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I’m not sure.”

  “Yes. We’ve made it.” Ren stood. He staggered and his head spun and his stomach growled, but it was the best he’d felt in days. He also felt in control. Well, more in control than he had a few hours ago. Everything still buzzed around him; his world was no longer silent, and if he wasn’t careful, he could inadvertently set something off, but at least he wasn’t unconsciously glowing. “And we’ll be fine as long as I fix the array. So, where is it located?”

  “We’re screwed,” Asher deadpanned.

  Ren rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers. “Technopath, remember. I can fix it.”

  “Say it louder. I don’t think the guards who chased us heard you. And it’s on the bridge.” Asher heaved to his feet. “Let’s go. We don’t want to get thrown off.”

  “Relax. Let me be the one who saves us this time.” Ren smirked. “I got this.”

  * * *

  “We’re screwed,” Ren whispered as they stepped onto the bridge.