Starbreak by Phoebe North Page B

But this one had weeks’ worth of ash ringing the stones.
    It smelled different here from how it did out in the city. There the atmosphere smelled saccharine-sweet, filled with pollen and the promise of summer to come. Here the air was as pungent as vinegar, as feral as animal musk. This smell wasn’t alien, not at all. It was the unmistakable smell of human body odor. I held my arm up to my mouth, hoping to block the scent.
    The old shuttle crew crawled out of their tents on their hands and knees, scrambling to their feet to greet us. They seemed perplexed—as if they’d thought they might live and die in this city without ever seeing another human face. They were haggard, their faces gaunt,their hair frizzed back in thick ponytails that had begun to turn to dreadlocks. Some of them still wore flight suits, stained beneath the armpits, the once-white fabric gone murky and brown. The others were dressed in the worn, holey cotton they’d donned the day they’d left the ship. They drew close, removing the bindings from our hands.
    I took in the gathered travelers. They were all there, all nine of them. And though I almost didn’t recognize her at first, soon my gaze caught sight of a familiar face. Dirty, her black curls lank and dust-grayed against her shoulders. But unmistakable. Hannah. My sister-in-law.
    “Terra?” she shouted, laughing. She pushed past the others to reach me, then buried me within a bear hug. I staggered back, but soon was lost within her arms. It didn’t matter to me how bad she smelled, or how dirty her clothes were, or, how much she’d missed of what had transpired on the ship—the dingy council rank cord was still sewn to the shoulder of her uniform. It mattered that she was familiar, that she was safe. Living and breathing right next to me, her heart beating beside mine.
    I heard Aleksandra let out a snort, as though the sight of our embrace disgusted her, or worse. But by then the others had drifted away—gone to embrace the shuttle crew, the fellows who we’d thought we’d lost. This time Aleksandra was left standing alone, her curled lip her only companion.

9
    H annah held me at arm’s length, appraising my condition. I examined her as well. There was a scar on her forehead, where blood, caked with hair, had been allowed to congeal. But she was alive and otherwise whole—in better condition than the other flight crew members. One had an arm in a cast, the skin all swollen and yellow beneath the bandages, the fingers uselessly limp. Another was missing the entire front row of his teeth. But that was old news to her; Hannah was used to their injuries.She brushed my hair aside, gave a sniffling smile, and said, “Terra, what happened to you?”
    I grinned through my shock and exhaustion. “We crashed in the wilderness. Out in the mountains up north.”
    She glanced back over her shoulder to Aleksandra. “The Council let you go? Didn’t they get our message? We can’t settle here.”
    I gazed back too. Aleksandra shifted, smirking.
    “The Council doesn’t rule us anymore,” she declared proudly. At her word, the rest of the flight crew turned to stare. She touched two fingers to her heart. “My mother, may her spirit rest, was murdered. I rule the ship now, with the Children of Abel at my side.”
    Murmurs of dismay and confusion rose up from the crew. Hannah took me by either shoulder, her expression frantic. I’d forgotten, in my relief at seeing her, who she really was. Daughter of two Council members. Gold thread was knotted through that rank cord.
    “My parents,” Hannah said, her words coming out in a rush, “are they okay? And Ronen? Alyana?” Her voice choked on the name of her daughter, the peanut of a baby girl she’d left behind.
    “I—” I said, then hesitated. I’d left Ronen in the ship’s bow with the other Council members. I’d run away from them, fleeing toward the dome. At the time I’d thought I could help. Save Captain Wolff, maybe, from her