“What do you mean she’s already here?” Asher grabbed Ren’s arm. His fingers bruised Ren’s elbow.
Ren grimaced. Millicent’s power pulsed in the systems of the drift. She was there, and her signature crawled in Ren’s veins; it ebbed and flowed over him like the tides compelled by Erden’s broken moon, and his stomach lurched. This wasn’t a series of remnants like he’d felt on Echo. It wasn’t a caress of his skin or a touch against his own star. This was an infestation, a sickening surge of her presence everywhere around him. Ren recoiled, and she followed, poking at his star with her own. Wrapping his arm around his middle, Ren closed his eyes and would have doubled over if not for Asher’s grip.
“She’s here.” He gulped down the acid in his throat. “And she knows I’m here too.”
“She beat us,” Asher said. He turned to the group. “Rowan, get everyone back to the ship! We need to get out of here.”
“Too late.” Ren trembled.
The sound of boots striking the deck in unison echoed down the drift corridor. Whipping his head, Ren spied a cadre of troops in helmets and body armor, weapons raised, marching toward them from one way. In the other direction, a lift dinged, and the sliding doors revealed a second troop. As the first few filed out, Rowan and Asher exchanged a glance.
Ren’s gut twisted as Rowan’s hand dropped to the weapon at her hip, and Asher pulled his from his shoulder holster. They nodded to each other.
“Scatter,” Rowan said voice low. “Make for the ship if you can or hide and wait. Understood?”
“Yes, captain,” Ollie said.
She nodded, body tense like a spring. “Okay, now. Go now!”
Ren engaged his power; his star burst out of him in streaks of blue. He entered the systems despite Millicent’s presence. Pain lanced through the base of his skull, and bile crawled up his throat. He cut the lights on their floor. Amid shouts from the soldiers and the crackle of electricity of their weapons, the group dispersed, running in opposite directions. Rowan fired shots into the dark, aiming high to distract and frighten, not injure. Sparks rained as pulses struck the drift walls.
Ren reached out; signatures from the different weapons pinged his senses. He shorted them out as best he could to give the others time. Asher grabbed Ren’s hand and yanked him away, pulling him toward the interior.
“Liam,” Ren said, craning his neck to check as they ran.
“He’s with Ollie and Darby. He’ll be fine. We have to hide.”
“No, we have to find her.”
Chest heaving, Asher tugged open a door to a stairwell and thrust Ren inside. He closed it behind him, and Ren engaged the electric lock, gagging as he did so.
“She’s hurting you already. Just from taking out the lights and locking a door. Ren… we have to wait for the Corps.”
Ren bent at the waist and sucked in air. “So she can vent them?”
“Better them than us.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. “She knows I’m here. She’ll flush us out before VanMeerten’s regiment gets here. And the Corps stationed here are probably already dead or captured.”
As he said it, a loud bang sounded on the other side, and Ren jumped away as more followed.
“They’re ramming the door.” Asher spread his palms against it.
Ren clapped a hand over his mouth as Millicent jumped into the lock and slid into the mechanism. She slammed into Ren, and his throat went tight. He fell to his knees. The lock slid.
The door banged open, and Asher threw his body against it to slam it shut again. He wedged his gun into the door jamb.
“Up!” He tugged Ren to his feet. “Up the stairs.”
They ran. Ren tripped up the steps to the next floor as the door flew open below them. Asher caught Ren’s hand, his grip bruising, and pulled Ren along. Up and up they sprinted. The soldiers followed, only a landing below them.
“I have an idea,” Ren gasped. He furrowed his brow. It would hurt. It would make him sick. But it was better than continuing to run. He flickered into each door they passed and swung it open, hoping to throw the troops off their trail. But each encounter with Millicent’s signature sent a wave of weakness over him.
Panting, Ren stumbled and landed hard on the stairs.
“No stopping,” Asher grunted, hauling Ren up. “Come on. Next one. Next one.”
Chest heaving, legs trembling, Ren scrambled up another set of steps. Asher’s fingers wrapped tight around his upper arm. With a heave, Asher opened the next door, hurled Ren through, and slammed the door behind him.
The floor was empty.
Ren doubled over. “No,” Asher said, striding across the floor. “Cameras,” he said, pointing to the corners. “She knows where we are. Keep moving.”
Ren straightened, features twisted in pain and exhaustion. He’d forgotten how bad Millicent could make him feel, or she’d become stronger—both were possible. “Ash, we can’t run forever.”
“We’re not. We’re buying time.”
“For what?”
“The longer those troops follow us, the better chance Rowan and the others have of escaping.” Asher continued to inspect their location. “And we need to give the Corps a chance to respond.”
Ren screwed up his features. “The Corps? You know we can’t trust them or VanMeerten. Do you honestly think they are going to keep their promise?”
Asher scowled. “No, I don’t. They’ve left me twice, and betrayed us, but I’d rather have them here to take the pressure off of you.” He crossed his arms over his head and took a deep breath. “We need to find a blind spot.”
“There’s not one!” Ren swept his arms out. “She can see us right now. She knows where we are. I can feel her in my head and in my body.” Ren rubbed a spot on his chest. “We’re not going to be able to hide.”
Asher scrubbed a hand over his head. “Why are you so dirt-bent on facing her alone?” His voice came out anguished and sharp. “Don’t you remember the last time?”
“I can’t forget the last time,” Ren said, pointing two fingers at the wound in his side. “I’m the one who died, remember?”
“Yeah, I do!”
Ren frowned. “You agreed to this plan. You were aware of the risks. What? You don’t think I can do it? You don’t think I have it in me?”
“I don’t want to lose you!” Asher crossed the small distance between them and grabbed Ren by the front of his jacket. “I don’t want to lose you.” He ducked his head. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” Ren rested his forehead against Asher’s. “You won’t.”
“How sweet,” Millicent’s voice boomed from the overhead system. Ren startled as she cackled and flooded the drift floor with light, pinning them under the heat and glare. Ren closed his eyes, blocked her out, held on to his last sweet moment with Asher. It didn’t last long as she flickered the lights and laughed over the comm. Asher pulled away first.
“I thought you were dead. You should’ve stayed dead.” Millicent sounded accusatory.
“That’s not how technopaths work, apparently,” Ren said with a wry smile.
“Ren,” she taunted, drawing out the vowel, her voice breathy and eerie, like a ghost or a dream. It sent a shiver down Ren’s spine. “Ren, I have your friends.”
Snapping his head up, Ren looked to the cameras. “What do you want?”
“I can’t have you stopping me, Ren. I have a plan and an army and a purpose.”
“And what is that?”
“You’ll have to come talk to me to find out. Your friends are on level two, waiting for you. I’ll vent them if you don’t hurry.” She laughed. “You know I will.”
Ren nodded. “I know.”
“Here, this will be quicker than the stairwell.” A lift dinged nearby, and the door opened. “You look peaked. Come along, you two. Don’t want to keep me waiting.”
Ren steeled himself and stepped into the lift. Despite his fears, Millicent didn’t drop the elevator out from under them. It descended at a slow pace, but Ren allowed his vision to wash blue, just in case.
Asher’s fingers clasped tight around his. Ren wanted to reassure him, but he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t certain he could stop Millicent. He wasn’t certain he could do what the technopaths in the debris said he could. He only knew that he’d do anything to protect Asher and to save his brother and the others. Rowan had saved him when she didn’t know him, and Ollie had welcomed him when he didn’t have to. Darby stayed in spite of the danger. Penelope healed him. Lucas made him laugh.
Asher loved him.
Ren’s breath caught. He didn’t want to lose them. He couldn’t lose them.
He wouldn’t lose them.
Panic lanced through him as the lift ground to a halt. Ren stalled the doors from opening for a moment and turned to Asher. He gave him a watery smile and kissed his stubbled cheek.
“That better not be a goodbye,” Asher said, softly.
“No, it’s a promise.”
Ren stepped back and let go of Asher’s hand, then he allowed the doors to open.
Guards swarmed the area, all dressed in black with body armor and helmets. They had a group of individuals surrounded off to the side, and Ren immediately recognized Liam among them and Ollie as well. His heart sank.
While the guards on Echo drift were inexperienced and comical, these moved in unison and with a coordination that marked them as well-trained. They encircled Ren and Asher as soon as they stepped from the lift. Hands raised, Ren felt the echoes of their weapons in his body and tamped down the urge to turn them against their owners. He wanted to burn out the power sources and send the guards to their knees in agony through the crackling of electricity. He withheld his power. They weren’t his real enemy.
“I’m here, Millicent. Don’t hurt them.”
She didn’t respond, but she must have sent a communication to the guards. They parted so Ren could see the group they had cornered, though they kept their weapons trained on them. Ollie, Lucas, Pen, and Liam had their hands raised. Rowan wasn’t there. Neither was Darby. Ren’s throat tightened. Had they avoided capture? Were they dead?
Millicent’s voice crackled over the communication system and echoed in the wide space she’d chosen for their confrontation.
“I have your brother,” she sing-songed. “The one you were looking for. I found him for you.”
The soldiers pushed Liam forward, and he tripped his way to Ren and grabbed Ren’s arm. His lip was bloody, and he had a bruise forming around one eye and a singe in his shirt at the upper arm. Ren caught Liam and pulled him close to his side.
“Okay?”
“Not really.”
“We’ll be fine.”
Liam raised an eyebrow, then was knocked to the side when the guards went for Asher.
“No! What?”
“Our divine leader’s orders,” the leader grunted. They grabbed Asher by the arms, dragged him away, and shoved him into the small group. Ollie caught Asher in a tight hold and glared at the soldiers.
“Let them go, Millicent.” Ren narrowed his eyes.
There was no answer, but the lift on the opposite side of the wide space dinged.
Millicent emerged in a swirl of light. She stepped lightly, her bare feet making no sound on the deck plating, her limbs moving like a puppet with no strings. Her white, formless dress swished about her knees. Her eyes glowed a brilliant blue, and her dark hair fell in tangles down her back to her waist. She lifted her hand, and tendrils of blue snapped from her fingers.
“You can’t stop me,” she said.
Ren gritted his teeth. “I can try.”
She laughed, high and loud, bordering on hysterical. “Why? They took you from your home. They imprisoned you. They tortured you. They killed you. Why stop me from avenging you?”
Straightening his shoulders, Ren dug his fingers into his palms. Sweat beaded along the back of his neck. Anxiety and fear pounded through his body. His breath hitched. “You’re not avenging me. You’re taking revenge.”
“They deserve it for what they’ve done.”
Ren frowned. “You tortured me. You’re the one who turned my dreams into weapons and turned me into a ghost. Should I take my revenge against you?”
She laughed again; her open mouth was a red slash in her pale face and her eyes were wild. “You were weak. Easy.” She waved her hand, and the life support systems flickered in Ren’s middle. “You can try to stop me, but I am a star. You are a human. You made that choice.”
His star was a deep well of power in his chest. He gathered it to him, allowed it to flood through his veins and arteries and mix with his blood. His power was a separate heartbeat, a rhythmic pulse of crackling energy. He channeled his anger and his grief and his happiness and his love until he was consumed. He drew on his panic and his desperation and funneled it into his will.
“No,” Ren said. His voice was static and power. “I’m a supernova.”
Ren released his tight hold, and his star poured outward, the world around him awash in a spectrum of color: reds and blues and purples and darkness as black as the space between the stars in the night sky. Fire and light exploded from his fingertips; electricity arced between his hands, around his torso, and down his legs to the soles of his feet. He tapped into the power of his humanity and into the power of stardust. He dove into the drift’s systems.
Millicent blasted into the circuits to repel him and met Ren with her own surge of power. They clashed within the drift. A wall of blue smacked against Ren’s own nebula of color. Millicent pushed and pushed; her power strained against the torrent of Ren’s own. His stomach roiled, and his head pounded with pain and exertion, but it was secondary to the feeling of being overtaken by the explosion of potential. He overwhelmed the drift’s power structures, driving her out in wave after wave of pure energy. He shone as brightly as an entire galaxy of stars, expanding outward in a detonation of elements and sound and light.
How dare you, she gasped. How dare you!
You can’t push me out this time.
No! she screamed at him, sending a shockwave of sickness, but Ren batted it away.
Then she fled. She raced to life support and cut the systems and Ren repaired them in a blink. She sabotaged the grav and went for the air locks. Ren chased her from system to system, from circuit to circuit, from wire to wire. He chased her until he was stretched from the top of the drift to the bottom, from the docks to the lifts, from the locks to the comms. He swamped every available nook, welled and inundated, battered every system with power, until he controlled everything, and she curled into a small ball of dim light.
Ren wrapped tighter around her, squeezed and squeezed, focused on overwhelming her until she was a speck. And while he choked her, caged her within his supernova, he also expanded, filtered into the ships in the docking bay, and out beyond the confines of the drift into the smattering of satellites caught in the gravitational pull, and farther, into the ships on the outskirts—Phoenix Corps—and into space debris drifting by. He bloomed outward, soundless in the void of space, a shock of reds, blues, purples, and colors undetectable by humans.
She squirmed away, snapping his attention back to her pathetic squiggle of light, and then… she smiled.
Look what you’ve done.
Ren was a collapsing star. He was darkness and light, a supernova, scattering across the cluster in a tumult of creation. He was a concussive force of energy, elements, and color streaking across the night sky. He was the birth of a nebula and the terrifying swirl of a black hole.
He was shaking apart.
Warning alarms blared, and claxons flashed as the drift shuddered and threatened to break. Pieces of the structure snapped off. Cracks appeared in the bulkhead. Wires overloaded, burned, then blackened and twisted. The gravity threatened to fail. Life support sputtered.
“Ren! Ren, you have to stop. You’re going to pull this place apart!”
Disconnected from his body, Ren faintly registered Asher’s hands on his shoulders. He attempted to contain himself, but he was unable to shrink back. He was tearing himself apart, down to his constituent atoms, and he’d take the drift with him. His family would not survive.
He opened his human eyes, his vision filled with a blurred image of Asher’s concerned face. Ren gritted his teeth. “Liam,” he rasped, voice scorched from yelling. He blindly reached out for him and grabbed his wrist where he had his fingers wrapped in Ren’s jacket. “Pull us in.”
“What?”
“Pull us in. Pull us in. Pull us in!”
Liam lunged for Millicent, yanking Ren from Asher’s grasp, and locked a hand around her ankle. Liam’s eyes glowed green.
Ren blinked and fell.