“Mother Rho!”
Before I can react, she snaps a picture of me with her Philosopher’s Stone. “I’m Mallie. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Nice to meet—”
“Oh, my Helios!” cries out Lacey, cutting me off and coming closer to inspect my features. “It’s you! I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”
“I told you,” says the Taurian, rolling her eyes. She turns to me, and in an all-business tone that matches her competitive stare, she says, “Hello Holy Mother, I’m Fraxel Finnigan, of House Taurus.” She checks out Mathias next. “And you are?”
“Blessed Empyrean, are all Taurians as rude as you?” asks Lacey. She sets down her tray of pink drinks, then faces Fraxel, hands planted on her hips.
“We’re not rude, we’re efficient. Maybe if you people pulled your head down from Space and actually took an interest in the tangible world around you—”
“What was it like facing him?”
Mallie’s large, glassy eyes reflect the Cancrian glyph of my crown. Even though her voice is soft, her question is loud enough to quiet the other girls. All three faces turn to me.
“Terrifying,” I admit, stealing a look at Mathias, who’s heard me tell this story more times than anyone. He seems distracted, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the talk we almost had. “It’s like fighting a solid person who can wield the power of wind, ice, and fire, and you have no way to defend yourself . . . because you can’t touch him back.”
Mallie holds her hand to her chest, turning the Philosopher’s Stone between her fingers. The device is encased in a lead pendant that hangs from a silver chain around her neck, and its design varies according to clan. Mallie’s pendant is shaped like an owl. “How did you survive?” she whispers.
“Luck,” I admit, thinking back to each time I faced Ochus. If I hadn’t been able to close the black opal or rip off the Ring—or if Ochus hadn’t decided destroying Virgo took priority over me—I wouldn’t be here right now. The knowledge fills me with a sense of doom, the kind I get in the Ephemeris when I sense an opposition in the stars. I have no idea how to survive this.
“How did it feel . . . knowing you were going to die?”
The Aquarian and Piscene stare at Fraxel. Even she seems surprised to hear herself ask a question more appropriate to the spiritual and philosophical realms.
“Lonely,” I admit. “Not in the moment I was facing him—when you’re fighting for your life, adrenaline numbs a lot of those thoughts.” I feel the full force of Mathias’s stare on me now, but I don’t look back. “It’s not even death that’s lonely. . . . I think it’s surviving. Because afterwards, you realize you did die—the person you were before is gone—and while everyone around you is pressing onward, you’re learning to become a person all over again.”
A couple of drunken Capricorns—one tall, one short—bump into Lacey, and she stumbles on her long veil, knocking over the glasses. “I knew that was going to happen!” gripes Fraxel, ducking to help Lacey clean up. Then, in a more muted tone, she says, “I need to check in at my embassy, so I can return your tray if you want.”
“Thanks,” says Lacey. She holds up her palm to press with Fraxel’s just as the Taurian sticks out her arm for a handshake.
“On Taurus, we shake,” says Fraxel, squeezing Lacey’s hand in demonstration.
“We press palms,” says Lacey, showing her how.
A strange understanding seems to pass between them, and with a jolt, I realize that in ordinary times, they never would have had this chance to meet. It saddens me to think of the price we’ve paid for this moment—the Cancrians, Virgos, and Geminin who had to give their lives for the Zodiac to come together.
As Fraxel wends her way to the Taurian embassy, ripples in the crowd push us farther up the hill. The four of us search the street below for the source of the commotion: The Aerians have erected a ring for holographic wrestling.
A couple of Aerian fighters step inside in red uniforms, wearing protective gear and helmets. The first man’s body flickers, like he’s transforming from human to hologram, and then I gasp as his image morphs and expands into a ten-foot tall snake-like creature with rippling arms and huge fangs. The second man becomes a lizard monster with talons and a lethal stinger on his tail. Both are imaginary versions of Ophiuchus.
The referee whistles, and the match begins. The avatars are projected by the men’s helmets and contained within the ring, so if either fighter steps out, they automatically revert to looking human. The lizard monster stabs at the snake creature with his stinger. The snake slithers away just in time and surprises the lizard by striking back immediately and sinking its fangs in its tail.
A wave of cheers drowns the lizard’s cry of agony, and then there’s another round of roars as the lizard retaliates by digging its talons into the snake’s arm.
“Look up!” shouts Lacey.
I turn my head to the night sky, and Rubidum and a team of Dreamcasters—Geminin Zodai—are standing on the peak of the Aquarian embassy, high above the village. They’re using their Tattoos to draw delicately detailed designs in the stars.
Shining above me now, in stunning clarity, are Cancer’s four moons. Mathias and I catch each other’s eye but don’t speak. Then the picture changes to Virgo’s needle city, to Gemini’s capital, to Helios. . . .
I’ve never seen anything like this before—the Houses of the Zodiac partying together, showing off for each other, sharing their tricks. For the first time, I see what a united Zodiac could look like—and I finally understand the full scope of what I’m fighting for.
This is about more than stopping Ophiuchus and bringing him to justice. It’s about our universe, and the kind of place we want it to be. We become our best selves when we’re around the other Houses: Nishi has made me more inquisitive of the world around me, and Hysan has helped me find my confidence. There’s a reason Helios binds our Houses together—we’re meant to learn from each other, not about each other. To speak to each other, not of each other. We’re not Cancrians and Librans and Arieans and Scorps and Geminin and Piscenes and Capricorns and Sagittarians and Virgos and Leos and Aquarians and Taurians—we’re the Zodiac.
My heels are making my ankles sting, so I lean against Mathias’s bicep, linking our arms. He, Lacey, and Mallie are alternating between watching the sights above and the fight below, but I’m gazing at the crowd, a rainbow of colors that’s no longer segregated but blended. Then a familiar voice floats from nearby, and at last my eyes find the ones they’ve been looking for.
Hysan is twenty feet away, talking to a gaggle of university students from various Houses, most of them holding pink drinks. The group looks spellbound by him, and I try to hear what he’s telling them. But I can’t make out the words.
After a minute, there’s an outburst of laughter from the students, and one of the girls—a Libran—slaps his arm playfully. Hysan says something else and flashes his centaur smile. Even from this distance, it tickles my skin.
The holographic wrestlers take a break, and now that people have stopped shouting, I can hear Hysan’s voice. It sounds like he’s telling a joke.
“After creating the first human,” says Hysan, his green gaze dancing with every person in the group, “Helios gave the Guardians a chance to make an adjustment to man—one wish, effective the moment it’s made. Aries was up first. He gave us super strength.” An Aerian girl in a skintight red dress whistles. “Taurus removed our need to sleep. Gemini imbued us with magical powers. Cancer made sure love would always guide us.” He pauses and casts his gaze around for a quick moment, and I wonder if he could be searching for me.
When he starts again, he speeds through his list, and the students cheer him on as he goes: “Leo got rid of our inhibitions”—two Leos slap hands—“Virgo made us flawless, Scorpio gave us mental control over technology, Sagittarius gave humans the power to teleport,
Capricorn made our brains bigger, Aquarius lengthened our lifespans, and Pisces gifted everyone with a pure soul.”
When Hysan finally takes a breath, the group applauds. The hungry look on some of the girls’ faces makes my stomach sear with jealousy. I’ve been watching the Libran girl, and she’s brushed her arm against his too many times not to be intentional.
“Only Libra’s Guardian was left, and for his wish, he asked that human lives be fair.” Laughter erupts from half the group. “And that’s why instead of being gods, you’re listening to me tell this joke.” The rest of them are now laughing, too. It’s the first time I’m seeing Hysan on his own.
I longingly watched Mathias for years before we ever spoke, but Hysan I’ve only known as mine. I don’t know him when he’s not with me.
The Libran girl, who looks to be about twenty and has silky blonde hair, invites the others back to the embassy. “We can get room service,” I hear her say, and even though she’s addressing everyone, she’s only looking at Hysan.
The group welcomes her proposal with drunken excitement, and every organ within me seems to crumble, until all that’s left is my shell. She’s beautiful, older than me, and doubtlessly more experienced—of course Hysan is interested.
When he leans into her ear to whisper something, my insides wring with despair. I just accepted the charge to lead our universe in a war against an eternal star, and I can’t even compete with this mortal girl.
But then Hysan pulls away, and the girl’s smile is gone.
As I’m watching, he casts his gaze around again, and I realize that his manner is so courteous, I didn’t notice it before—but he’s actually been searching the crowd often. And this time when he looks, he sees me.
He excuses himself from the group and cuts over to where I’m standing. The Libran girl’s gaze lingers after him, her expression sulky.
Mathias looks down from the images of Guardians Origene and Caaseum in the sky. He spies Hysan’s approach, and his arm muscle tightens under my hand.
When he’s only a couple feet away, I feel Hysan taking in every part of me, even though his eyes never pull away from mine. He reaches for my free hand, and my blood bubbles where his lips touch my skin. “I missed you,” he says, holding my fingers a moment too long.
“This is Mallie and Lacey,” says Mathias loudly, forcing Hysan to turn away from me.
After they introduce themselves, Mallie says, “We should resume our drink service.” Her glassy eyes reflect my coronet again. “Good fortune, Guardian,” she says, bowing. “May you lead us to victory against Thirteen.”
“It was wonderful meeting all of you,” says Lacey, also bowing. She seems about to speak to Mathias before leaving, but Mallie pulls her by the elbow and says, “That’s Rho’s boyfriend.” Then she looks back at the three of us and waves, dragging a mortified Lacey with her.
Hysan, Mathias, and I stand around in silence, and too late, I realize I should have corrected her.
“Can I get you anything, Rho?” asks Mathias, his mood suddenly improved.
Hysan won’t meet my gaze, and it hits me I’m still holding onto Mathias—that I’ve been holding onto him since Hysan arrived.
“I think I should go, as well,” says Hysan, his tone still amiable but his sunny glow dimming. “Since we’re taking off tomorrow morning, and there’s much to—”
“No, don’t,” I say, afraid to lose him again in this crowd. I hate all these secrets and mixed messages, but my window for a heart-to-heart with Mathias is gone, so I’ll need to find another moment. But I have to explain myself to Hysan now. “I think I could use a glass of water.”
Immediately, Mathias sets out to find me one, and as soon as I’m alone with Hysan, I say, “I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet, and—”
Hysan shakes his head. “I don’t want to pressure you, Rho. It’s just sometimes I don’t know how you feel, and he can be so possessive of you—”
“Like the Libran girl with you?” When I hear how jealous I sound, I wish I hadn’t spoken, but now that I have, I can’t stop. “I just feel like there’s so much we don’t know about each other. I mean . . . how do I know that you don’t have a girlfriend on every House?”
He laughs, startling me. “You could brand me as yours if it pleases you.” He touches his forehead. “Perhaps a tattoo here. . . . What do you think of Property of Rho Grace? Too subtle?”
I laugh too, then I grow flustered, caught in the current of my emotions, and he interlocks his fingers with mine. “If you don’t already know how I feel about you, I’m failing as a communicator.”
I feel the warmth of his touch and blow out a hard breath, releasing my tension. “It’s not you . . . it’s everything.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Rho,” he says, his voice now completely serious. “As long as you want me here, I’m here. If you want to wait to tell Mathias until later, when this is over, I’ll understand.”
I wish I could kiss him, but Mathias is returning. I wish I knew there was a later, that we’ll still be around when this is over.
But for the first time in the Zodiac, no one knows what’s coming tomorrow.
36
THE FESTIVAL ENDS CLOSE TO DAWN, when a couple of rowdy Leos sneak the embassy’s lions into the wrestling ring and try turning them into holographic fighters.
A few hours later, the Zodiac goes to war.
Hysan, Mathias, and I are stationed on the cruiser Firebird, our flagship. The fleet is accelerating across the galaxy to the place where the vision used to appear to me in the Ephemeris. We’re taking a convoluted route known only to a few senior officers, and our whole armada is shielded, veiled, and running silent. Hopefully it’s enough to keep Ochus from finding us.
Even though the three of us are on the same ship, we barely have time to talk amid all the preparations. Mathias is on the hangar deck, teaching people how to pilot the skiffs; Hysan is one of his students. After four days of flying, we’re now only hours away from the thirteenth constellation.
Since we’re maintaining radio silence, we can’t get fresh news from home, and I’m anxious. The last thing we learned before setting off is that Gemini’s devastated planet just missed colliding with its neighbor, so our refugee camp is safe for now. But I have no idea if another world has been ravaged, or if the army hiding on Phobos has made a move yet.
“Have you ever seen a ship this majestic?” Admiral Horace Ignus of Leo spreads his arms wide. He and I just finished reviewing my part of the plan so that things can go smoothly when it’s time.
He’s a loud, expansive man, with a broad Leonine face and thick brown beard. When I first stepped aboard, he had his orchestra play a fanfare and greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. “Welcome, little lady,” he said. “Have no fears while you’re aboard the Firebird.” As if this were a pleasure cruise, not a battleship.
“Admiral, I was hoping to hear more about the battle strategy—”
“We’ve got that pretty much under control, darlin’. Trust me, we’ll nail that murderin’ sonofabitch.” He’s condescending, but like most Leos, he has a good sense of humor, so it’s hard not to like him. “You just keep your eye on the metaphysical stuff and leave the the physical work to us.”
All I know of our battle plan is that it’s what Ignus calls a feint. In sea sports, it’s when you pretend to go one way, and while your opponent’s distracted, your teammates go another. But since I don’t play sports, I don’t know how often it works. All I know is that without Hysan’s shields, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
The Firebird is a long black cylinder with fake gravity like Equinox. Behind us, more than two hundred other vessels trail through the sky, and unlike Firebird and ’Nox, few of them were built for speed. Gawky freighters, leisurely yachts, sluggish galleons and arks—they string out like clumsy runners at a marathon.
All
twelve Houses sent spacecraft to fight Ophiuchus. Even Cancer managed to supply a barge. Scorpio contributed a squadron of sloops, even though Charon is under investigation by the Plenum. House Virgo provided mirage veils to cloak every ship from view. Sirna is stationed on the Ariean destroyer Xitium, which flies just off our starboard flank, and Lord Neith is piloting ’Nox on our port side. Rubidum’s somewhere behind us, steering a neutron zeppelin.
On Phaetonis, the Ariean generals converted a chemical plant for mass production of Psy shields, and now every vessel in our fleet carries a full-size facsimile of Hysan’s veil. Since we’re flying silent, ship-to-ship communications are tricky. Sometimes we shuttle back and forth, but mostly we use blinking signal lamps. Our entire success rests on a surprise attack.
“I just think if I knew more,” I tell Ignus as we walk together, “maybe I could help, based on what I learned from my previous encounters with Ophiuchus.”
He gazes down at me with a look of grandfatherly patience. “Little Mother, you worry too much.”
While Ignus goes to the bridge, I head to the forward observatory, going over what I know of the plan in my mind. First, we’ll zigzag through the Kyros Belt, a broad band of ice in the Fish constellation of House Pisces. The Kyros Belt will conceal our stop at a Piscene space station orbiting planet Ichthys. That’s where we’ll load up on fuel. We’ll need a lot of fuel to reach the Thirteenth House.
Then, heavily veiled, we’ll pass through Ochus’s wall of Dark Matter. When we’re within visual range, we’ll lower our Psy shields, and every Zodai in our fleet will read the patterns of his constellation to find him. We’ll need to be incredibly fast, since shields down means he’ll be able to attack us. Once we find Ochus’s base, the feint comes in.
I’m the feint.
Ignus has given me a Wasp gunship with a high-resolution Ephemeris onboard, and I’ll fly it far from the fleet. When we find him, I’ll lower my Psy shield and open an Ephemeris to attract Ochus’s attention.
Zodiac Page 30