Knight is the Libran word for Lodestar. “Then what’s the trial for?” I ask, as we approach a pair of double doors at the end of the passage.
He freezes just shy of opening them and looks at me with concern. “Fun, my lady—though I’m seriously starting to wonder whether Cancrians are familiar with the concept.”
When our eyes meet, I sense more than fun behind the centaur smile. There’s a kind of serenity that’s surfaced in his stare, as though he’s close to the thing that anchors him—his Center.
A courtroom symbolizes a quest that is sacred to Hysan and his people: The pursuit of justice. Librans draw strength from this pursuit the way we Cancrians draw strength from the Cancer Sea, the nurturing Mother of all life on our planet.
Being in this place with him, I understand why Hysan’s dedication to our mission hasn’t wavered, even when he’s never been under any obligation to come. Beyond just believing Ophiuchus is real, Hysan shares my need for justice.
“Fun sounds fun.” As soon as I say the words, I cringe at how stupid they sound.
He chuckles softly. His hand is on the doorknob, but he still hasn’t opened it. Though neither of us moves, the space between us seems to shrink.
I feel his green gaze and golden glow heating my skin, and as he pushes open the double doors, I realize my dark mood is lifting, burning up in his radiant light. “Welcome to your Libran sanctuary.”
I step over the threshold, and Libra’s shocked me again. Their embassy is a ritzy, dichromatic hotel. The marble walls are white and the floor is black. There are bellhops (in black) and valets (in white) everywhere we look. The high-ranking Libran officials are in yellow, so they’re easy to spot. The lobby is a vast circular room that spans the height of the building, and the higher stories spiral up. All around us, help desks outline the room’s perimeter.
It’s probably the tallest embassy in the village, except for the Aquarian one. The upper floors ripple up in rings, about twenty stories high. We step into a humongous elevator, and Hysan tells the operator, “Penthouse suite.”
We immediately shoot up to the top floor, where I only see one door. “Will I need a map?”
A glint crosses Hysan’s eyes. He swipes an access card, and the door swings open on its own into a vast . . . workshop.
Long, flat tables fill the floor, their surfaces covered in all kinds of tools and machinery. Cabinets along the walls are brimming over with gadgets and electronic trinkets, and the glowing holograms of hundreds of measurements and equations crowd every particle of the room’s air.
“Since I’m always traveling, I like to keep workstations on every House . . . in case Neith or ’Nox need a tune-up.” I notice his gray coveralls hanging on a peg near the door. “The shield is up, so no one can access the Psy from here.”
“Thanks.” I step through floating words and numbers. “Where do you sleep?”
He leads me to a door at the far end of the workspace. On its other side is a lavish suite decorated in the dichromatic style of the lobby. The floor is checkered with black-and-white marble, the furniture is black levlan, and the tables are crystal. There’s an expansive living room, a reading room, a kitchen, a dining area, a series of bedrooms and bathrooms, and a balcony that wraps around the whole space.
“Anything I can get you?” asks Hysan, opening his arms wide, as though the whole world were at his reach.
“The news,” I say, thinking of Ochus. I need to know if he’s attacked again.
Hysan nods and turns on the wallscreen, muting the audio. I wait for him to sit, and then I take the other end of the couch, careful to keep a cushion between us.
We watch the images from Sagittarius for a while. Next there’s a quick report on the surge in hate crimes against Risers on Aries, Leo, and Aquarius. Historically, there’s been a stigma around them, and they’re one of the few social groups that still faces prejudice in the Zodiac, even if it’s unpopular in most Houses to adopt that standpoint.
No updates on Cancer. No bombs at the Plenum. No attack on Gemini. This is torture, just blindly waiting for Ochus’s next move. “What do we do now, Hysan?”
“We keep fighting, of course,” he says, looking from the screen to me.
“Mathias doesn’t believe me.” I know Hysan isn’t the best person to discuss Mathias with, but I need to talk to someone. I’ve never been so confused . . . or alone.
“I’m sorry, Rho.”
“After everything Charon said at the Plenum, and those photos and the documents he showed . . . I can’t blame him. Or Sirna, or any of them. I wish I could not believe me. If I could lie to myself, or question my memory . . . but my memory never lets me forget.” The last part comes out bitter, so I clear my throat and look away.
“I believe you.”
When I turn to meet his gaze, my inhale sounds like a whispered breath. Hysan has slid closer, onto the cushion between us, but he doesn’t cross the dividing line.
“Why?” I ask, even though it’s dumb to question one of your only followers.
“I trust you,” he says simply, and I see no evidence of game-playing in his face. “I may not have your natural ability to read the stars, but I’m a natural at reading people.” He takes my hand, and as his warmth seeps into my skin, I feel a flicker of hope. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak today. I should have tried yesterday.”
“They wouldn’t have listened. I just wish I could at least convince my friends. After everything the three of us have been though, why can’t Mathias trust me? Why does he need proof?”
Hysan’s eyes grow soft with sympathy, and the golden star in his right iris shines brighter than before. “Shall I quote that line about people who think in straight lines, or have you already committed it to your infallible memory, my lady?”
I want to laugh and kiss him at the same time. And then just the thought of doing either of those things makes me want to jump and run away.
I’ve never felt further from myself in my life—from home, from my family, from the person I was before this began. As Hysan starts to lean a little closer, I grasp for conversation. “Why haven’t you been around much these days?”
His expressive eyes grow darker, becoming more present, as if every atom of his being were pouring itself into this moment. “I didn’t mean to desert you, my lady.” His face still seems to be coming closer, until his features blur in front of me, and I can almost feel his lips brush mine as they shape his next words. “But I’d rather not say.”
I pull away, hurt. “Another secret, after what you told me today at the arena?”
His golden brow wrinkles, like he’s considering my point, and then his expression clears. “Okay.” He moves in for my mouth again, and the cedary scent of his hair and the sweetness of his breath tempt me closer. “The truth is, I don’t know what it’s like to introduce my parents to the girl of my dreams . . . but it didn’t feel fair to ruin it for Mathias.”
The feelings for Hysan that I’ve been suppressing seem to burst through my chest, and I press my mouth into his. My heart is fluttering with so many nerves that I’m worried it’ll fly up my throat and escape my body—
Then the door to the suite clicks open.
31
WE FLY APART AS MATHIAS walks in from the workroom.
“Everything’s quiet outside,” he announces when he sees us. “I think we’ll be safe for the night.”
Hysan and I are at opposite ends of the couch, pretending we’ve been watching the news. My pulse pounds so loudly in my head, I’m worried it will betray me when Mathias sits on the cushion between us. “Thanks for leaving me a key at the front desk,” he says to Hysan.
“No problem.”
“I would have been here sooner, but your jury made me recount our whole journey. They were . . . interesting.”
He places a bag of food on the table, and his elbow brushes mine�
��but I can’t meet his eyes. “They said I could enter because saving your life on Virgo instead of looking for Rho proved I trust only what I can touch. Then they advised me not to live life so literally.”
Hysan smiles indulgently. “Ah, they’re good kids,” he says, carrying over a carafe of water and three glasses from a corner table.
Mathias passes each of us a box of Cancrian rolls, probably from the village market, but I’m thinking of the warning Hysan’s jury gave me. “What did your good kids mean when they said, When we open our minds too wide, we risk closing them?”
“It’s a popular Libran line,” says Hysan, setting our drinks down on the crystal table. “It means even open-minded people can become narrow minded when they refuse to consider other arguments.”
Mathias bites into a sushi roll stuffed with crabmeat. “I’ve been thinking about where to go next. We shouldn’t linger on Phaetonis.” I feel his stare on the side of my head, and suddenly parched, I take a sip of water. “The largest Cancrian settlement is on House Gemini, which is where the embassy thinks your family might be.”
The muted screen on the wall shows images from the Plenum. There are shots of my Cancrian supporters, of the Scorps that heckled me, and then there I am. Looking like a little kid on a big stage, performing for a group of disappointed adults.
Ochus was right. I’m no threat to him, just as he predicted on our first meeting. After all, who’s better at reading the stars than a former star himself?
The reporter gives my full name, age, and status as an Academy Acolyte. Turns out I’m one of the youngest Guardians in centuries. Only the six-year-old Aquarian is younger, but his title is only symbolic because his regents do the actual work. On Aquarius, being Guardian is a birthright, so the lineage is determined by blood. Often, their House’s best star reader will actually be the Guardian’s senior Advisor and not the Guardian himself. Obviously, the reporter doesn’t know about Hysan.
Next the video shows soldiers throwing me out of the hippodrome. I glower at the screen, and a new thought stirs through my mind. “Rubidum said she was summoned to the Plenum days ago, before we even arrived.”
“Same with Neith.” Hysan spears a bite of crab with his chopsticks. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“You didn’t know your android would be here?” asks Mathias.
“Total surprise. Neith thought I was the one who summoned him. He’s very intelligent, but he can be naive. He didn’t think to consult me before he left for Aries.”
Mathias sets down his empty sushi box. “Why call so many Guardians to the Plenum?”
It sounds like something the same person who doctored Dr. Eusta’s appearance would do—Ochus. Who else could pull off such a massive forgery?
“At first, I thought he wanted to target us with one blow,” I say, continuing my inner thoughts aloud, “but that’s not it.”
“No, he would’ve struck by now,” agrees Hysan.
“Maybe Ochus wanted the Guardians to see Charon’s false evidence firsthand,” I muse, thinking back to my own decision to deliver my warning in person and not by hologram. “To match what I’m doing . . . you know, to really ruin my credibility.”
“Of course,” says Hysan, nodding, “he’s making his lies more believable. Trust Only What You Can Touch.”
I rub my head. “Ochus must have foreseen that I would come to the Plenum, and he wanted to discredit me. The only good news is he’s still afraid of me, at least enough to put some effort into defeating me, so there must be a move we can still make, something that still worries him. We just haven’t thought of it.”
“Your questioning way of getting around a problem is very Sagittarian,” says Hysan, following my reasoning so closely he’s abandoned his food.
I beam at him. “My best friend must’ve rubbed off on me.” Suddenly hungry for the first time all day, I take a bite of my Cancrian roll. The taste of fresh crab reminds me startlingly of Cancer, and I savor the meat’s buttery softness in my mouth, especially after so many compressed Space meals.
Mathias stands up and crosses to the balcony’s open doorway, looking out at the surrounding village. “We should get away from this place. Help our people back home.”
I swallow, the food suddenly tasteless, and push away the rest of my meal. “Home?”
Even just saying the word, I realize no place in the Zodiac offers real shelter from Ophiuchus. Whether he attacks today or tomorrow, there’s no doubt he’ll slaughter more of us soon. “As long as the Guardians are here,” I say, “I’m going to stay and keep trying to convince them.”
Mathias rounds on me. “Rho, you can’t be serious. Do you have a death wish?”
“I swore to protect Cancer,” I say, rising to my feet, too. “This is me upholding that oath, whether you understand it or not.”
He shakes his head. “You’ve done your best. You’ve given enough.”
“Thanks for your help, but making speeches is not my best.” I start pacing up and down the living room to work off my frustration with him. “My best is reading the Ephemeris, which I can’t do, because Ophiuchus will use it against me. So I’m blind, and I’m powerless, but I’m still the only one who knows the truth. I can’t turn away from that.”
“How will you convince them, Rho?” asks Mathias, planting himself in front of me to block my pacing. “You’ve already tried twice, and both times they’ve shut you down. There’s nothing more you can say or do because there’s no proof—”
“Then I have to go to the Thirteenth House.” The realization comes to me as I speak the words. Avoiding his eyes, I say, “I have to get proof that Ophiuchus is real.”
“No.” Mathias stares at me in alarmed disbelief. “Rho, you’re the Guardian of Cancer, your people need you.”
I turn away from him and face Hysan, who’s watching us from the couch. “I need another huge favor.” His attentive and still stance reminds me of the jurors downstairs. “Could you program ’Nox to fly me to the Thirteenth House?”
“There is no Thirteenth House,” interjects Mathias. “That’s only a legend.”
“Fine,” I say, still staring at Hysan and refusing to see Mathias. “Then Hysan, could you program your ship to take me to the Sufianic Clouds?”
He nods. “I’ll fly you myself.”
“Rho, you’re tired,” says Mathias, softening his tone and trying a new approach now that we’re two against one. “You need sleep. Tomorrow everything will—”
“Mathias, you have so little confidence in me.” I walk around him and start pacing again, too agitated to slow down. “Ochus is real, and he’s hiding somewhere, maybe in his House. I’ll find him, or I’ll find proof the Thirteenth House exists, or I’ll find something to corroborate my story and redeem Cancer’s reputation and rally the galaxy against him. Something people can touch.”
Hysan stands. “Rho’s right. It’s not just about Cancer anymore. Everyone in the Zodiac is a target as long as the Houses refuse to protect their people from Ophiuchus.”
Mathias reaches for me, but I dodge out of his way. “Rho, please,” he says, following me to the far end of the room, his midnight-blue eyes sparkling. “I’m just asking you to be reasonable about this.”
“I’m sick of reason,” I say, glaring at him. “Go to Gemini if you want. I’m going to find Ochus.”
Pain cracks Mathias’s face, and he whispers, “You know I’ll never leave you.”
Someone knocks loudly on the suite’s door.
Adrenaline drowns the guilt and anger twisting my gut, as Mathias motions me into a bedroom and draws his weapon. He follows Hysan to the workspace to see who’s here, and seconds later they return with Ambassador Sirna. “Where’s Mother Rho?”
I edge out of the bedroom, and as soon as she sees me, she says, “We’ve received a report that your brother is alive. Injured, but alive.”
&n
bsp; Stanton’s okay. Blood rushes into my chest, and I reach for the doorjamb to steady myself, emotions crashing over me like ocean waves.
“The grid is down again, but I’ll let you know as soon as we can put you in touch,” she says, her dark face creased with concern.
My brother survived. I can barely let myself believe it. I’m so relieved, I might finally sleep tonight—except she didn’t mention Dad. Is that because there’s no update on him yet, or—
“I have other news. Charon was bribed to denounce you, and I can verify it.” She touches her brooch, and holographic screens of data begin to beam out. Hysan shuts the curtains, and the facts and figures flare brighter in the darkness.
“We analyzed Charon’s so-called scientific evidence,” she says, as more screens fill the living room. “We knew the explosion on Thebe originated in the quantum reactor, but the cosmic rays he alleges are complete fabrications.” The first few holograms are now spreading to other rooms of the suite.
“Then what caused the reactor to explode?” asks Mathias. He’s investigating an image taller than him that shows our four moons at the time of the attack.
“I went back through the logs from that night.” Sirna points to a screen floating near the kitchen, a spreadsheet of numbers, and smiles at me. “You ordered me to look again. I’ve just found unmistakable traces of a Psy attack.”
Hysan looks over Sirna’s spreadsheet, then turns to me. “Rho—with this proof, plus ’Nox’s logs, the Plenum will have to believe there’s a Psy weapon out there.”
He’s right . . . even if they don’t think it’s Ophiuchus using the Dark Matter, they’ll know it’s a powerful Zodai who can manipulate Psynergy. It’s a start. “Why didn’t anyone else bother to fact-check?” I ask Sirna. “There must be more data.”
She shakes her head. “Psynergy fluctuations are easy to miss if you’re not looking specifically for them. No manmade sensors detect them permanently because their traces in the Psy disappear so quickly. We see only the faint trails they leave in the matrix of space-time.”
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