Niki fell silent and floated beside her, weaving a little in the wind. They watched Ferral shrink into the distance, pausing often to sit on a rock and rest.
"A Guardian is lesser without their ghost," Lethia observed. "Look at him. He's not even Awoken - he's diminished."
"And together, we're more," Niki said softly. "That's why it's such a tragedy when a Guardian loses a ghost."
Lethia had never thought about any of this before. Guardians seemed like untouchable, immortal demigods. Yet, here was one who had been mortal before his Light was lost.
"Are they all like Ferral?" she blurted. "So ... normal, I mean."
Niki nodded. "Guardians are people. They make mistakes. They get tired and hungry and scared. But they're Guardians, so they hide it. But they can't hide it from their ghosts. We know."
"But they're undead," Lethia said in bewilderment. "Aren't they?"
"Being resurrected doesn't make them undead," Niki said. "Undead would be soulless shells. Look at Ferral. He wishes he was soulless so he wouldn't have to grieve the way he's doing."
Lethia watched the distant figure sitting on a rock with his head in his hands. From here, she couldn't see the details of his armor. All she saw was his dejected posture, the despair in every line of him.
She refreshed the healing rift. Then she pulled out the dead little core and rolled it back and forth between her palms. The fatal crack in the core was a pronounced ridge, even under the tape. Lethia rolled it back and forth, round and round, as if working with clay. She didn't think about what she was doing - she mostly watched Ferral in the distance and thought hard about Guardians. But the light of the healing rift gathered in her hands. The crack in the core gradually smoothed away.
"But why?" she asked Niki suddenly. "Why do we Awoken hate Guardians so much, then?"
"Because Mara Sov has taught you so," Niki replied.
"Why does she hate them?"
"She's your queen," Niki said. "I have no idea."
Lethia looked at the core she was rolling in her hands. "I don't, either. I wish I knew more about both sides. Awoken ... and Guardians. I thought I knew a lot, but I guess I don't know much at all. They're not just ... Light Taken?"
"No!" Niki exclaimed. "And there's those in the City who would brand you a heretic for even suggesting it."
Lethia smiled. "The Awoken would throw me out for becoming a Guardian. I guess I don't fit in anywhere."
"You belong with the Guardians, of course," Niki said. "Just don't mention the Taken thing. The Light is about giving, and sacrifice, and blessing, and restoration, and life. The Darkness glorifies selfishness, greed, murder, and death. It Takes because that's what it does. It gives nothing but death."
Lethia nodded, trying to match this with everything she'd been taught since she was small. "So, as an Awoken, with the powers of both Light and Darkness ..."
"... you would be a powerful Guardian, indeed," Niki finished.
In the distance, Ferral was returning, head down and shoulders slumped.
Lethia kept the healing rift burning. Banner's core felt smooth under her hands. The Light flowing through her felt warm and comfortable, and she wanted it to continue as long as possible. The cold little core had finally begun to grow warm, too.
Ferral walked up and stood gazing at the wrecked ship, not looking at Lethia.
"Are you all right?" she asked him. "I'm working on my healing rifts."
"I don't need healing," Ferral said. "I can't find his core. Banner died without me, and I can't even find him."
Lethia kept working the core in the midst of the rift and said nothing. She had to keep pouring in the Light, but a sense of expectancy had begun to rise in her. She watched Ferral and waited.
"And I don't want to hear any cracks about Guardians," Ferral added. "Light, it was bad enough getting it from the Dasa clan. I'm severed now, and you ..." He looked at Lethia for the first time and saw the core in her hands.
He sprang at her, knocked her down, and snatched the core away, all in a single movement. He knelt in the healing rift, clutching the ghost to his heart. "You took him? You Dark-taken thief, he's my ghost! I should kill you-"
Lethia climbed to her feet, brushing off her clothes. Her sense of expectancy was so strong that she said nothing, only watched to make sure Ferral stayed in the rift.
Ferral was enraged and confused. The Awoken who hated ghosts and Guardians had stolen poor Banner's dead core. It made no sense. But Ferral was in no mood to try to understand. He knelt in her healing rift and gazed into the dark eye.
"Ban," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I should have protected you. I didn't take better care of you, and now - now you're gone." He kissed the dark eye and pressed the core to his heart again, desperate and grief-stricken. He'd carry the core with him for the rest of his final life. A reminder of the friend he'd failed.
Lethia stood nearby in silence. Her hair and clothing fluttered in the wind, but otherwise she didn't move. Her blue-green eyes were fixed on him, unblinking.
"What are you looking at?" he snarled.
"Call him back," she said.
This was so far out of the realm of expected responses that Ferral stared at her blankly.
"Call him," Lethia repeated. "Only you can do it. He knows your voice."
Ferral dropped his gaze to the core in his hands. She was a warlock, after all. Warlocks knew things, even if she was a bigot.
"Banner," he said softly. "Banner, she thinks you can hear me. If you're in there, come back. I need you, little light."
No response. The eye remained dark. Ferral glanced at Lethia.
She motioned for him to continue.
"Banner," Ferral tried again. "Ban, come on, wherever you are. Don't go to the Traveler and leave me here. I still need you. You used to promise never to leave, even if we both died, remember? I always thought you were crazy. Banner, please, if you can hear me, please come back."
Had that been a flicker of light deep in the darkened eye?
"Banner?" Ferral exclaimed, looking closer. "Banner, you can do it! Come on, boy, you can make it. I'm here. I'm right here."
The core grew warm in his hands. The eye flickered again, brighter this time. A garbled sound echoed in Ferral's head, like a ghost trying to speak, but too weak to form the phrases correctly.
"Ban," Ferral whispered. "You're still alive. But I felt your Light go out. How is this possible? Come on, Ban, wake up."
The blue eye blinked on, the pupil focusing. It looked around, then settled on Ferral's face.
"Guardian," Banner whispered. "I left you. I'm so sorry. I couldn't help it."
Ferral laughed, even as tears ran down his face. He hugged the ghost again. "It's all right, Ban. I won't let you be hurt again."
"I might be able to move," Banner said, his voice strengthening. "Light, I feel better. Am I still bleeding?"
Ferral inspected the black tape. "I don't see any leaks."
"Check the crack in my core. I feel ... right. Have I been repaired?"
Ferral peeled back the tape very gently. The crack in the core had been fused together, with only a faint seam in the metal to show where it had been.
Ferral glared at Lethia. "You mended him? How?"
She shrugged. "I just used my healing rift."
"And her hands," Niki added cheerfully, flying forward. "She healed him for ages." He scanned his brother ghost. "Wow, Banner, you're completely well. Too bad you don't have a shell anymore."
Banner blinked at him. "I'm not the only one. What happened? You're all bent."
"The crash," Niki told him. "I don't even remember when it happened."
Banner slowly floated into the air, just a tiny ball with an eye on it. "I'm completely well, Ferral!" He spun to look at Lethia. "Thank you ever so much!"
She nodded and couldn't hold back a smile.
"Yes ... thank you," Ferral said, looking at Lethia like he'd never seen her before. "Why did you heal him? You went on about hating Guardians and ghosts."
Lethia's expression smoothed away, leaving her blank and frigid. "It was an experiment." She shoved her hands in her pockets and turned her back on him.
Ferral looked at Banner, confused and a little offended. Banner made a small, questioning sound. Then he disappeared in a swirl of Light. But he said in Ferral's head, "She's strange, that one. Are you all right?"
"I am, now," Ferral thought. "But damn, look at our ship. Insurance is going to throw a fit."
"I'd better take snapshots," Banner said. "What rotten luck we're having."
It was comforting to return to other matters. The wrecked ship seemed so trivial in comparison to losing and then regaining his ghost. Ferral kept wondering how Lethia had done it. Ghosts couldn't be revived - so what had she done?
As much as she disliked him, he'd probably never get a straight answer out of her.
Lethia climbed the hillside to the ridge. She teetered on a rock, the wind threatening to knock her over, trying to spot the Vanguard base.
"Niki," she said aloud, "wasn't there civilization around here?"
"Yes, actually," Niki said. "A Vanguard airbase eight miles to our west. However ... I don't want to alarm you ... but there's been no response to any of my calls."
"We're probably out of range," Lethia pointed out.
"I bounced my signal through a satellite," Niki replied. "They should have received it. But ... nothing. The Dreadnaught's attack may have triggered Hive or Taken activity all over the solar system."
Taken. A chill of dread sank through Lethia. Hive were bad enough, but Taken, too? Why hadn't she left them behind in the Reef?
"But they probably just didn't receive my message," Niki said with a nervous laugh. "I mean, this is the Vanguard we're talking about. Their job is dealing with Taken and Hive. Right?"
"Right," Lethia said. "Uh, eight miles, you said? Across rough terrain? Yeah, we'll be camping out tonight."
As much as she didn't want to. Not with the possibility of Taken creeping out of the darkness, wobbling and burning.
"See what supplies you can salvage," Niki suggested. "Blankets, food, any kind of shelter. Even terraformed, Mars has an average nighttime temperature of negative twenty degrees Celcius."
"Ferral won't like me picking through his stuff," Lethia said, making her way back down the steep hillside. "Every word I say infuriates him. I don't know how to communicate with him."
"Maybe stop insulting him?" Niki suggested hesitantly.
Lethia snorted. "When have I insulted him? I've asked honest questions."
"Well ..." Niki paused. "You did tell him that he would be better off if his ghost died."
Lethia opened her mouth and closed it again. She had said that. Then she had seen what actually happened when a Guardian lost their ghost. Her stomach clenched. She wanted to walk out into the surrounding desert and never look Ferral in the face again.
"Thanks for keeping such close track, Niki," she said dryly.
"You're welcome ... oh," Niki said. "You're being sarcastic."
"Yes. Sarcasm. I do that."
"Oh," Niki said again in a small voice.
Feeling like a heel, Lethia returned to the wreckage of the ship. Ferral had climbed back inside and was rattling around, pitching objects out the windows. She stood at a safe distance and watched.
Ferral stood and looked out a window at her. His white-streaked hair stood up in messy patches where blood had dried in it, and his blue-gray skin was grimy. His eyes glowed in the dimness inside the ship. What color were they? Lethia tried to figure it out. They might have been pale yellow, but from here, they simply glowed white.
"Well?" he said shortly.
"The Vanguard base is eight miles that way," she said, pointing west. "But my ghost can't contact them."
"Mine, either," Ferral said. He tossed his toolbox out the window, followed by a rifle. "This ought to be a fun hike."
"Are there any supplies in there?"
"There were." Ferral scowled. "I'm having to cut open my storage lockers. It might be a while. Make yourself useful and gather up the stuff I toss out." He ducked out of sight.
"Make yourself useful," she mimicked softly to herself, so he wouldn't hear. "Sorry not sorry I insulted you, oh high and mighty Guardian." She grudgingly began organizing the tools and weapons Ferral had found. Among them was her bag of soup cans, which she had completely forgotten about. At least they wouldn't starve.
"Is there any water?" she called.
"Yes," his voice echoed from inside the ship. "If I can get to it."
The sun had already passed noon and was headed toward the horizon. Lethia guessed they'd spend the night at the wreck. She went hunting the ship's missing wing, which would make a decent shelter.
It was half a mile from the ship. It had broken into three pieces, but the largest one was ten feet long and suited her purposes. Lethia began dragging it back to the wreck, stopping often to rest.
"I wish I could help," Niki said wistfully in her head.
"Have any music?" Lethia asked. "I like the Dreaming City choir."
"I have that!" Niki said. "And some similar artists, too. I like music." He played music in her head for the next two hours. She dragged in the wing and wrestled it into a rough lean-to on the sheltered side of the ship. The music made the work easier.
When Ferral climbed out of the ship, lugging a heavy water jug, he found Lethia had constructed a serviceable shelter out of the ship's wreckage.
"How'd you know how to build this?" he said, poking his head inside.
"My friends and I used to build forts in the woods," Lethia replied. "How much water do we have?"
"Enough for a week, if we're careful." Ferral unscrewed the jug's cap, which doubled as a cup, and poured each of them a drink.
Lethia watched him. His eyes were sunken with exhaustion, and his movements were slow and weary. He may be a jerk, but he was also spent, and people were never at their best when tired out.
"We have food," she pointed out. "Let's rest."
Ferral studied the sun's position. It was late afternoon by this time, and the sun was low and red. "I wish we had fuel for a fire," he muttered. "Cold food it is. I found the blankets, too." He went back to the ship to fetch them.
As he returned with an armload of camouflage-brown blankets, Lethia said, "You think we'll freeze to death?"
"We might," Ferral replied. "Our ghosts will resurrect us. It's not a big deal."
Lethia stared at him as he spread the blankets in the ground inside the shelter. "Maybe not for you. Do you know how long it takes to freeze to death? And how bad it hurts?"
He grinned. "Sounds like you've tried it."
Lethia hugged herself. "The Reef gets very cold at night."
"Some places on Earth do, too," Ferral replied. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, then the clear, pinkish sky. "So. Do we sleep together for warmth, or apart, and die of hypothermia?"
"Survival first," Lethia sighed. "Together, I suppose. Don't think it means I like you."
"As long as you don't murder me in my sleep, I don't care," Ferral replied. "This has been a lousy day and it hasn't gotten better."
They ate their cold soup in silence. Then they wrapped themselves in blankets and huddled together under another blanket. Lethia thought she would toss and turn on the hard ground, but she was more tired than she thought. She and Ferral were both asleep in less than ten minutes.