Athena’s Ashes (Star Thief Chronicles #2)(64)
Author: Jamie Grey

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Renna paced Viktis’s cabin. Samil had made it obvious she’d go to any lengths to get Renna. Meeting her on Earth might be a trap, but Renna was dead either way. And the woman was right. Finn and Jayla and Alistair and the rest of the crews of the Athena and Eris were dead because of Renna. She’d destroyed MYTH HQ just with her presence. She couldn’t live with the souls of all those tenement people on her conscience, too.

The only thing left for her was to make it right. And kill the bitch.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Renna pointed at the crumbling landing pad at the edge of the tenements. “You can set her down there, Ariz.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You sure about this? Viktis is going to kill me when he hears what you’ve done.”

“Tell him I held a gun to your head. He’ll believe it.” She smiled at the pilot. “Make sure you get his ship back to him without a scratch. I don’t want that on my conscience, too.” Renna patted down her weapons, verifying she still had her two blasters, three knives, and a pair of small throwing stars tucked into her sleeve. Her lockpicks were hidden in a back pocket, just in case she needed them.

The Fortune’s Risk touched down with barely a bump, and Renna held out her hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Ariz. Fly well.”

The Ileth shook it, squeezing her hand at the end. “Good luck, Renna.”

She slipped out the open hatch, stepping away from the landing area as Ariz took off. The Fortune’s Risk was out of sight moments later, and the sudden silence pressed down on her like a heavy hand.

She was alone. Poetic, really. She’d left this place on her own ten years ago; it made sense she’d come back to it the same way.

Renna inhaled deeply. It even smelled like she remembered—dying grass, rusting metal, and the peculiar scent of decay from the river. The shiny skyscrapers of New York were visible across the sluggish black water, kept exclusive by the carefully guarded bridges onto the island.

But here in the tenements, weeds struggled through the cracked cement, and rusting speeders gathered dust where people had abandoned them when they stopped working. At the edge of New York, the people who couldn’t afford to live in the floating palaces and glass-windowed buildings crowded against the river, watching as the rich and wealthy lived in ways they could only dream of.

Renna had spent more than a few hours on a bench near the river herself, dreaming of the day when she’d have her own apartment in the city. When she’d own a shiny new speeder and be able to fly to the upper reaches of the place. But now she could see the wear and tear on the once-modern buildings. The steel wasn’t quite so shiny; the speeders, not as fast; the perfect lives, nothing more than a mirage.

Renna picked her way across the debris field surrounding the landing pad. Her body went stiff as she spotted a ragged backpack someone had abandoned beneath a well-worn bench. The brown canvas was ripped and ragged. A faded red patch had been sewn to the front flap.

The Rats.

Instantly, she was thirteen again.

She’d been running with the Rats to make some money. She’d done odd jobs for the gang—stealing, gathering secrets, just being a lackey—but she’d carefully hidden every cent of her earnings in a crack in her mother’s wall. She needed enough to buy a transport off this world. Anywhere she might be able to find a job—she wasn’t picky.

It had been just another day when she’d finally decided to go. Nothing special had happened to send her running, nothing bad was on the horizon. She was just finally ready.

She’d gotten dressed, packed her ratty backpack with three changes of clothes and a holo of her friends, grabbed her credits from the stash in the wall, then shut her bedroom door behind her.

She’d paused outside her mother’s darkened room for almost a minute, wondering if she should bother saying goodbye. Her mother wouldn’t remember; she was sleeping off her latest overdose. But Renna had needed to say goodbye for herself.

Taking a deep breath, she’d entered the stuffy bedroom, the burnt-sugar scent of clay still clinging to the bedclothes. Renna had stared down at the woman who’d raised her, who’d tried to kill her, who’d been her best friend and biggest enemy. A thirteen-year-old hadn’t known how to deal with those types of feelings. She’d only known mothers weren’t supposed to act like that. They were supposed to protect you.

And her mother had failed at that long ago.

Renna had turned and left the apartment without even leaving a note, knowing her mom wouldn’t notice she was gone for two days at least. As her ship left the earth’s atmosphere, she’d promised herself she’d die before coming back here.

Guess that promise was about to happen.

The skunky smell of cheap coffee jerked her out of her memory. She wrinkled her nose as she walked past a crowded coffee shop. The battery acid she used to buy from there had given her stomachaches for days, but it had been the only thing she could afford, beside the day-old rolls the barista kept for her in back. Just beyond the shop, a towering tenement building shadowed the block.

Her building.

She crossed the street and approached it through the alley, stopping as she entered the open space in front of the building. At one time, someone had called it a park, but the grass was long dead and a rickety swing-set sat at one edge with two broken swings. The tenement kids had used it for pick-up soccer games when she was growing up.

Now she’d be playing a much different game.

THIRTY-NINE

Completely out of place in the decay of the tenement, a gleaming ship sat at the end of the street. Samil’s ship. Top of the line Dimensional Striker, if she wasn’t mistaken.

But where was Samil?

Renna took a step forward. Her implant port sparked, the skin on the back of her neck starting to burn.

“Shit!” She clutched at it, rubbing against the pain. A high-pitched buzzing filled her ears, worse than the usual hum from her implant. She took another step, and it grew sharper. Was it coming from the ship? She wouldn’t put it past Samil to have rigged the whole area with some sort of torture device.

“I’m so disappointed you weren’t here waiting for me,” Renna called out. “I thought we were friends.”

Her sarcasm echoed off the walls and reverberated in her head. She wanted to press her hands against her ears and shut it out, but Renna forced herself to stand still. Calm. Unconcerned.

“I was gathering the welcome party.” Samil’s voice had a tinny quality to it, like she was broadcasting over a speaker, and Renna shook her head, trying to clear it.