Spider's lair had once been a palace aboveground, full of luxuries, and a center for trade and back-alley agreements. But the Scorn Barons had driven him out, forcing Spider to conduct business from an underground bunker.

The Renegade nodded to the guards, whom he knew by name. Then he walked down the bunker's winding passages, Aerith trotting at his side. After a few minutes, they arrived at Spider's audience chamber.

Spider was a huge Eliksni, full grown at twelve feet tall, but grossly overweight. He sat on a throne with eight legs and rested two of his four hands on his belly. The third hand gestured as he spoke to his enforcer. The fourth hand held the shell of a dead Ghost, which he played with as if it were a puzzle.

Eliksni guards stood in the corners of the room, armed with arc spears and watching everything. A human secretary worked on a tablet beside the throne. Spider had salvaged her from the Prison of Elders, and she worked for him or would return to prison. He called her Shank. The Renegade had never asked what crime a human could commit that would send them to the Prison of Elders. Some things were best left unknown.

The Crow nodded as the Renegade approached. The Renegade returned the nod, acknowledging him as an equal. Then he faced Spider. "I've returned with your stolen cargo, sir."

"Ah, Shin Malphur," said Spider, opening two of his arms in greeting. "My favorite retrieval agent. Did you find all the cargo?"

"Yes sir, everything on the list," said the Renegade. "I arrived before the auction finished. They're unloading it on the dock."

"Excellent," said Spider. His four eyes moved to the child at the Renegade's side. "And who is this? It's rude not to introduce a guest."

The Renegade had thought about this. Spider knew everything and everyone that passed through the Shore. If anyone would know about Aerith, Spider would. But such information would not come cheap.

"Once we conclude our business," the Renegade said.

The Spider gestured to Shank. "Speak to her. She will see that you get paid."

The Renegade did, aware of Spider's glowing eyes resting on himself and the girl. Shank transferred the agreed-upon amount of glimmer to the Renegade's account. He liked seeing all those zeros on his balance sheet.

Afterward, he returned to his place in front of Spider's throne. "I found this child among Rod Bender's stolen goods. I need to know who she is and why she was being sold."

"Helmet off," said Spider. "Let me look at her."

Aerith pulled her helmet off and gazed up at Spider. Her blue hair tumbled about her head, and her purple eyes were curious and bright. She looked altogether too soft and vulnerable to be standing there in a place of crime and manipulation.

"Aerith Rigel," said Spider.

She nodded. "Yes sir."

"We'll, now." Spider leaned back on his throne and looked at the Renegade. "My taste for human gossip serves me well. This child has some interesting stories attached to her. Very interesting. Not for all ears."

"How much?" said the Renegade.

Spider considered. "Five hundred."

"Agreed," said the Renegade.

"Pay Shank and I'll give you the data," said Spider.

The Renegade did so. Then Spider rummaged around his throne, found a tattered magazine, and handed it over. It was a copy of Ethereal, one of the cheap gossip rags they sold in Interamnia. The Renegade jammed it in his coat pocket without opening it. Then he excused himself and went to speak to the Crow.

The Crow had a small room adjoining Spider's, a combination workroom and maintenance room for an ether pump. Under cover of the pump's noise, the Renegade asked for the promised information on Rod Bender's suppliers. The Crow handed him a sheet of paper with a handwritten list of names and addresses. His handwriting was incongruously beautiful, slanting cursive that bordered on calligraphy.

"Thanks," said the Renegade. "I may have all I need, now."

"Bring them to justice," said the Crow, giving the girl a pitying look. "No child should be dragged out here."

"That's the intent," said the Renegade. "I'll be in touch. I'd rather work with you than Spider."

For a second, Crow stared at him as if he'd sprouted a third ear. Then he slowly smiled. Uldren's smile. "I look forward to it."

That smile haunted the Renegade's thoughts as he and Aerith returned to his ship. Uldren Sov, a Lightbearer? And working for Spider, no less. There would be repercussions down the road. Meanwhile, he seemed to have been resurrected as a decent man, and the Renegade knew enough decent men to count on one hand. Whoever Crow had been, the Renegade would deal with him as who he was now.

He brushed that aside to think about later. Aerith was shivering again, despite the heat packs. His own energy was flagging, a sign of low blood sugar. They needed food and rest.

The Renegade checked with the harbormaster to confirm that Spider's cargo had been unloaded. Then he took the Talion out to a remote part of the Shore and landed in a ravine. It was easier to rest in gravity than freefall.

"Did Spider give you news about me?" Aerith asked as he handed her a ration pack.

"Maybe," the Renegade said. "I haven't checked it yet."

Her purple gaze followed him as he collected a ration pack for himself, along with a liter of water. "Do you ever sleep?"

"Sometimes," said the Renegade. Sleep did not come easily after all these years. Too many faces, too many names, too much Darkness. He slept when his body demanded it, and no more. Unfortunately, his body seemed to be demanding it.

They ate their rations in silence. Aerith made little sounds of delight, as if she had been starving to death and presented with a feast. He'd have to make sure she got fed more often, poor kid. He'd lost track of the time, and Aerith hadn't even complained of her hunger.

Ghost emerged and flew around the ship, checking on supplies and fuel, as she always did when they were stopped somewhere. Aerith watched her fly. "Mr. Malphur, where did your Ghost find you? Here, in the Reef?"

"Earth," said the Renegade.

Aerith looked at him expectantly.

"It's not a nice story, kid," he said, and took a long drink of water.

"How is it not nice?" Aerith asked. "I've heard people talk about how a Ghost searches for years until they find the right corpse. Then they resurrect them and they're friends forever."

"My first Ghost died," said the Renegade.

Aerith looked at him in bewilderment, then at Ghost. "How do you have another one?"

"I was a baby," said the Renegade. "I don't remember the first Ghost. I'd died and he brought me back, but he got killed by the Fallen trying to help my family escape. Some friends took me to a town called Palmon and raised me there." He glanced at Ghost. "Do you want to tell it or shall I?"

"You tell it," she said softly.

The Renegade finished his meal first, gathering his thoughts. "It's a story of a good man and a bad one. The good one was Jaren Ward. Guardian. Came to town looking for a place to settle down, kind of a loner. Carried an iron at his hip and a Ghost at his shoulder. I worshiped him. Followed him everywhere. He took me under his wing, taught me to shoot."

"He was a good man," said Ghost wistfully.

Aerith listened closely. "You were Jaren Ward's Ghost?"

"I was," said Ghost.

"But … how?" Aerith asked. "Aren't Ghosts bonded to one person forever?"

"From the time we met Shin, I could see his Light," said Ghost. "It puzzled me. He was a Lightbearer, yet he had no Ghost. And he was only a child, not much bigger than you. Jaren and I sensed it, and Jaren pitied him."

"Not that I knew any of that," said the Renegade. "Not then. Jaren was with us about three years. Then one day, while he was out hunting, Dredgen Yor came to town." He leaned back in his chair and drank his water, wishing it were something stronger.

"Who was that?" Aerith asked, leaning her elbows on the table.

"Guardian gone bad," said the Renegade. "Worse than bad. When I met him, he seemed to me like a broken man. The gun at his hip was made of blackened bone. His Thorn, he called it. He took an interest in me. Probably sensed my Light."

Ghost shuddered in midair.

"He took a room in our inn," said the Renegade. "And that night, when the dark was thickest, he killed everyone in the whole town and burned the place down. I escaped with a few others. I think he let me go. We hid in the woods until morning, when Jaren came back."

"What did he do?" Aerith asked, captivated.

"Looked for survivors, first," said the Renegade. "Found me and the others. We told him about Yor. We salvaged some supplies and set out after the killer. It was a long, hard hunt. Yor had a day's head start, and he moved quick. We hunted him for days. Finally we caught up to him at nightfall, could see the glow of his campfire. Jaren made us wait until dawn, something about the strength of the Light being greater then. But when we fell asleep, he slipped away. I noticed he was gone. Heard voices. Then gunshots. The Last Word, first. Then Thorn. Never heard a gun like Thorn before. It screams. Sucked the Light right out of Jaren. When his Ghost tried to bring him back, there was nothing left."

"You can't imagine the grief and shock," said Ghost, her voice soft with pain. "My Chosen, slain by Darkness itself, and that demon in human shape drank his Light and laughed."

"I'm sorry," said Aerith to Ghost. She turned to the Renegade. "And I'm sorry for you, too. He was like your father."

"He was," said the Renegade.

Ghost said, "I hung there in the air and asked Yor if he planned to end me, too. His dead eyes were distant. 'Not you,' he said. 'Who then?' I asked. 'The boy,' he said. And I could see that he meant to slay Shin and drink his Light, too. 'You shall not have him!' I cried. And I flew through the woods to where Shin was hiding."

"When I saw her, I knew Jaren was dead," said the Renegade. "Then the oddest thing happened. She flashed me with her Light, then I could hear her in my head."

"But how?" Aerith asked.

Ghost ticked her shell back and forth in thought. "It wasn't easy to do. I had just lost my Chosen, and my neural link was in shambles. Yet I was so determined to give the boy a chance against the monster, I poured every ounce of my soul into his." She looked at the Renegade. "I blame myself. You got my need for vengeance and justice."

"I told you long ago," said the Renegade, "I would have tried to avenge Jaren with or without you."

"Still," said Ghost. "I wish I'd … taken time to grieve Jaren, first. It would have been easier on you."

The Renegade waved a hand. "What's done is done. I was a Lightbearer and I barely understood. I climbed the hill and found Jaren's body. Dredgen Yor was still standing there, with the Last Word in his hand. He gave it to me, dared me to use it. But I couldn't. Shaking too bad. I wanted to, but I couldn't even load it. Yor gave me a grin like a corpse, said we'd meet again. He left. I buried Jaren. Took two days. Awful time. Then I set out to find Yor."

"Did you?" Aerith asked, enraptured.

"Took years," said the Renegade. "Long, weary years. I learned of the Light, learned to handle the Last Word. Traveled Earth, got a ship, scoured the system. Tracked Dredgen Yor down. Faced off with him, lit my fire, burned him to dust. He never shot back unless the first bullet missed. Jaren must have missed. I think Dredgen Yor craved death. Wanted release from the whispers of the bone."

"Wow!" Aerith exclaimed. "It's as good as a movie! And this really happened to you?"

"It did," said the Renegade. "Dredgen Yor had a gang of followers. I've spent years tracking them down. Infiltrated them at one point to learn what they did. Sick, evil men. I learned their Darkness and chose the Light instead. So that's what I do. I weed out their poison as fast as they spread it. Always target the young Guardians, lure them away with promises of power. Sometimes I have to put them down, too."

"You're scary," Aerith proclaimed. Her purple eyes scrutinized his face, and the Ghost beside him. "But I like you."

"Thanks," said the Renegade. After retelling the old story, he hadn't expected this reaction. It touched his stony heart. "You've had your story, now it's bedtime."

Aerith complained, but went to bed in his bunk. The Renegade folded down the galley table and bunked on it.

He'd only laid there a few minutes when Ghost landed on the blanket beside his head. He covered her with his hand.

"Shin," she said in his head, "this hard life you've led has all been because of me."

"My life would have been a lot shorter without you," he thought. "I never regretted your bond."

"Me neither," she said. "You've been a fine Lightbearer and even a Guardian, if you wished. It's just … at times like tonight, I think of Jaren."

"It hurts, don't it?"

"It does."

He stroked her shell, comfortingly. "We'll remember him together."