Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel

by Romina Russell

  “Come in.”

  It’s Hysan, who’s changed back into his gray coveralls. I wave him in.

  “Hi,” I say, switching off the star map. Dawn is a couple of hours away, and still no sign of Ophiuchus.

  “Anything?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “But I’m not buying it.”

  The words are a revelation even to myself, and I feel better after expelling them. “I know Ophiuchus is still playing games with me, but I don’t get the sense he’s lying about the master. I think there’s someone else out there, someone much more powerful than him.”

  “I agree,” says Hysan, sitting down on the bed beside me. “The master has been far too careful about hiding Ophiuchus’s existence to slip up now. If anything, I believe this news proves Ophiuchus has truly switched sides. I think the master has discovered this fact and is now feeding him to the masses, the way he did you.”

  Hysan’s reasoning mirrors mine, and I smile with relief at the lightness and rightness of conviction. I’ve missed this feeling—the certainty I can trust myself.

  “What do you want to do?” he asks.

  “I want to talk to him again. If the master is lying, Ophiuchus will be desperate to prove it.”

  Hysan nods. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

  I yank him back by the pocket of his coveralls and bring his mouth to mine. “Thanks,” I say. “I needed that.”

  “Any time, my lady.”

  I keep staring into the Ephemeris as the sun’s first rays peek out, willing Ochus to appear. I let my vision unfocus, my eyes aimed at the place where the Thirteenth House once existed, until the area seems to be growing larger, or I’m getting sucked into its darkness. Then, suddenly, I begin to see the Snake constellation through the writhing Dark Matter, as if a black curtain were lifting and the starry serpent starts undulating forward.

  When the full, heavenly form of the Thirteenth House is floating before me, it speaks in Ochus’s bitter voice.

  I’ve disguised myself to hide from the master. Remember, if I were your enemy, would I not do away with you now instead of waiting?

  I believe you, Ophiuchus, I tell him, meaning it.

  Even though he no longer has a human face for me to read, I can feel in the Psynergy connecting us that I’ve stumped him. He expected me to fall for the master’s ploy. I guess I haven’t given him reason to have more faith.

  We’re setting off for the asteroid belt today, I continue when he doesn’t answer. I only came to tell you the plan is still on.

  Then there is nothing left to say. There’s a change in his tone that reminds me of a performer who’s gone blank and is now making up the lines. Watch yourself, little crab.

  “No change in plans,” I tell the room once we’ve gathered. “We’re leaving in five.”

  A door bangs open, and Hysan bursts in, his hair pointing every direction. “I apologize for the interruption—my lady, I must speak with you urgently.” He’s coming from his bedroom, where he was consulting with Neith before our departure.

  I’m immediately terrified by what could rattle Hysan this much that he would break his courteous customs. “Excuse us,” I tell everyone as I dart over and follow him into a White Room, shutting the door behind me.

  “I can’t accompany you,” he says.

  “What?” I blurt, steadying myself against the wall.

  “It’s Neith. Someone’s taken over his controls. They must have found out the truth about who he is . . . and who I am. It has to be the master.” Hysan paces the floor, pale and absolutely petrified. “Rho, I might have put my whole House in danger. If they break through my protections, they could do anything—know everything. I have to go before they get the chance.”

  I can see the horror in his face, and I know he’s right: His House needs him.

  “I’m leaving you Equinox and taking a smaller ship to Libra. I’ll come find you as soon as I’ve located Neith and made sure my people aren’t compromised. You’ll only be a seven-hour flight from Kythera, so that’s two hours on one of my engine-enhanced Dragonflys.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” I say, knowing the concern on his face isn’t all about Libra. “Focus on Neith, don’t come after us unless—”

  “Rho, I’m not Rubi or Brynda or the others. I won’t wait until you’re in danger to come after you. I’m joining you as soon as I see to Neith—and I’ll be stealthy. But you’ll have to take Twain. He’s a good pilot. He’ll get ’Nox through the asteroids.”

  I nod, still in too much shock that Hysan isn’t coming to be able to do much else.

  “You are the first and only person I have ever loved, Rhoma Grace,” he says, holding my face in his hands. He kisses me and takes off without saying goodbye to the others.

  I recover enough of my own breath to leave the White Room and join the group. “Hysan is needed by Lord Neith,” I announce. “Twain, you’re replacing him.”

  Nishi and Deke look alarmed, but Twain beams with silent pride.

  “Five minutes then,” I say, quickly ducking into the nearest kitchen to steady my nerves in private.

  “I’m scheduled to go to the Plenum on Taurus,” says Rubi, who has followed me in and is pouring herself a cup of tea. “You sure you don’t want me with you?”

  I shake my head. “You’re the only one stubborn enough to keep this up if I fail.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “Rho, I need to go back and meet with my Advisors,” says Brynda, striding into the kitchen and setting an empty teacup down on the counter. “I’m sending a group of Stargazers and students to Tierre to help Ferez. I will be tracking your progress and will have a ship outfitted and ready to go the moment there’s any danger.”

  “What if we send one stealthy ship alongside you?” asks Rubi for the thirteenth time. “So someone’s close by, just in case?”

  “Thank you, Rubi, but the master is just too smart and too powerful. If he suspects a trap, he won’t show. He needs to think we’re alone.”

  “You are alone,” says Brynda, and I don’t say anything.

  When my crew is gathered, I trade the hand touch with every single person we’re leaving behind—except Ezra, who refuses to let me get close—and then Aryll, Nishi, Deke, Twain, and I venture into Space.

  17

  AT THE SPACEPORT, TWAIN FOLLOWS Hysan’s instructions and leads us to ’Nox. As we get closer, I spot a glimpse of golden hair by the bullet-ship.

  “Hysan!” I shout, speeding up with relief. It must have been a false alarm, and he’s coming with us after all!

  But I stop short when I get close enough to see the face that belongs to the hair.

  “Stanton?”

  My brother stands before me, wearing Cancrian blue and a broad smile. He looks so real . . . but he can’t be. He picks his bag up off the floor, proving that he can touch, and I’ve no choice but to believe my eyes.

  “No way!” Aryll calls out.

  “What—why are you here?” I ask incredulously as I wrap my brother in a hug.

  “I should have come with you in the first place,” he says. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t want me saving marine life—they’d want me fighting beside you. It’s where I want to be, too.”

  My heart is so soft and swollen that it’s hard to recall all the hard-edged emotions that had been stabbing it earlier. I can’t imagine anything better than having my brother by my side—but I can’t let him come on this trip.

  “Rho, don’t look at me like that. I’m going,” he says. “You may be able to boss everyone else around, but I do the bossing around in the Grace family. Now let’s go!”

  Twain unlocks the ship. Deke and Nishi hold hands as they board, and Stanton steers Aryll by the shoulder. I used to think my biggest fear was being far from my family when the world was under attack.

 
Now I know it’s just the opposite.

  We each take a different cabin on the ship. I convince Nishi and Deke to take Hysan’s, the largest, until he’s back, and while everyone settles into their new space, I join Twain in the nose. Through the glass, I watch the Capital grow smaller until we escape Centaurion’s gravity and Space swallows us.

  “Jumping to hyperspeed,” says Twain. Soon the stars are threads of light, and we’re tunneling through darkness.

  Sitting beside him at the control helm, I’m reminded of the last time I sat here, when the captain was Hysan instead of Twain. I remember how innocent I was as I left the Crab constellation for the first time. I didn’t yet understand the weight of the leadership I’d accepted. In that moment, I was just drawn to Hysan’s light the way firebursts are drawn to Helios.

  “I think you’re the first friend Hysan’s ever had,” says Twain, watching me with a shrewd expression.

  “Aren’t you his friend?”

  “I think I’m as close as most people get,” he says, looking back down at the screen to monitor our heading. “You ever notice when you talk to him how he’ll be so focused on you, he doesn’t give up anything about himself?”

  “Well, he’s been alone a lot of his life,” I say defensively.

  “True,” says Twain. “But I also think it’s part of being Libran. They’re always expected to be friendly and helpful and put together . . . but no one could feel that way all the time. Certainly not on Virgo. I think to be a people person, you probably can’t let people get too close.”

  “You’re pretty smart,” I say, and he laughs. “So why do you want to risk your life so badly?”

  His smile fades and his brow furrows, casting a shadow on his handsome face. “On Cancer, your connection to your family grounds you, right? Don’t you have a saying? Something like Happy families start with happy homes?”

  “Yeah.” The mention of the Cancrian axiom brings Mom’s face to mind, and I shake my head to dislodge it.

  “On Virgo, practicality trumps sentiment. Broken families are common. I come from one. Being so practical prevents us from digging too deep into personal passions, either, or any kind of major movement or organization that requires absolute devotion. We can’t love broadly, see. Our curse is our perfect vision. We’re forced to live in the details.”

  I never thought about the Virgo lifestyle that way—from a Virgo’s own perspective.

  “But being here, away from Virgo,” Twain continues, looking steadily into my face, “I believe in something with my whole head and my whole heart for the first time.”

  Meeting his mossy gaze, I murmur, “Thank you.”

  “Shielding from Shadows, what’s that?” calls Aryll, reading from the control helm as he makes his way from the back of the ship, Stanton at his side. He looks to be in far better spirits now that my brother is here. While Twain explains to Aryll what the various menus mean, I join Stanton by the crystal-capped round nose.

  “I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about the day Mom left,” he says to me in a low voice.

  I hate that memory. If it were a Snow Globe, I would smash it. “A week after you were bitten by the Maw,” I say just to say something.

  Mom and Dad fought that morning, and they were still mad at each other when it was time for Dad to drop me off at school. Mom gave Stanton permission to skip his classes, and while he was playing in his room, she left the house and disappeared into the Cancer Sea. She didn’t take our schooner, so we assume she swam.

  “Wish I could forget that Maw bite. Worst tenth birthday ever,” says Stanton, staring darkly into Space.

  “Remember that black seashell she used as a whistle and a hairpin?” I ask, trying to distract him from the pain I know he’s reliving.

  Stanton chuckles. “I’d forgotten about that thing. I was always mesmerized by how she could twist all those heavy curls over her head and then secure them with something so delicate. I guess you saw a different side of that shell.”

  “She woke me up with it every morning for drills.” I look up at my brother. “Stan . . . why do you think Mom left you all the household responsibilities instead of Dad?”

  He sighs. “I think because she knew he would be the most broken by her leaving.”

  I nod. I always thought the same thing. Being so in sync with Stanton makes me feel brave enough to ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask him for ten years.

  “Why . . . why didn’t you make me do those drills every morning, like she told you?” My voice sounds so tiny, I feel seven years old all over again.

  “Rho, I never even considered it,” he says quickly. “I couldn’t do that to you.” He swallows, hard. “I never told you this, but when I was four, Mom tried to train me.”

  I stare at him, aghast.

  “I was decent at Centering, but I didn’t See much. . . . After about a week, she gave up. I didn’t have your talent.”

  Neither of us says anything for a while. We just stare at the lights through the nose, each lost in our own memories. “The day Mom left,” I whisper, “before I followed you guys to her reading room, I talked to Jewel. She told me it was wrong for Mom to keep pulling you into her arguments with Dad. She said it was making you older.”

  Stanton stares at me curiously. “She said that?”

  “Yeah . . . she’s a smart girl. You, on the other hand . . . let’s just say I can’t believe it’s taken this long.”

  “I know that already.” He shakes his head and turns away from me, probably still unsure about discussing his love life with his little sister. Without facing me, he says, “She reminds me of home.”

  “I know.” When he looks at me, I pose the other question I’ve been waiting to bring up, the one we ask each other about once a year, as if it’s a ball we’re throwing back and forth between us.

  “Do you think Mom’s alive?”

  He shakes his head, as he always does. Stanton has always believed that Mom saw her own death in the stars and set out to die alone. I used to believe that, too, but when Admiral Crius said she was alive—even though it was just a Guardianship test—the spark of possibility was ignited. Once kindled, hope is a hard flame to put out.

  Aryll claps a hand on each of our shoulders and announces, “’Nox plays digital mah-jongg!” as though the fact settles an argument. “Who’s in?”

  I leave Stanton and Aryll to play with the ship and head to my room, when I hear a scream coming from Hysan’s cabin and start running.

  “Nishi? Deke?”

  I open the door to see Nishi sitting at the edge of the bed and Deke on bended knee before her, holding her hand and whispering. Both look near tears.

  “Rho!” squeals Nishi. “Get in here!”

  Deke’s smile widens when he sees me. “We’re getting hitched, Rho Rho!”

  I shriek with delight and squeeze him tight, and Nishi jumps up and joins us. Deke tips us all over, and we laugh as we fall onto the bed, locked into a mega hug. The three of us roll apart on the mattress and lie side by side, Deke in the middle. We used to do this on Elara whenever one of us wanted to talk about something without having to look anyone in the eye.

  “Do you think our kids will turn out Sagittarian or Cancrian, Rho Rho?”

  “What if they’re half-Crab, half-Archer mutant babies?” I tease.

  “Then we’ll have to live half the year as Sagittarians and the other half as Cancrians,” says Nishi, and Deke and I laugh. Then she adds, in a more serious voice, “I don’t care who they are . . . just as long as it’s who they want to be. I don’t ever want them to have to choose between belonging and being happy.”

  Deke turns his face toward her and presses his lips to her forehead, whispering, “I love you.”

  We stare up at the blank ceiling for a while, and then Nishi says, “I miss music.”


  “I miss home.”

  Deke mumbles, “I miss my sisters.”

  Nishi and I curl into his sides to comfort him, and he puts an arm around each of us. “How do you think this all ends?” whispers Nishi.

  “Either when we stop the master. Or when the master wins,” says Deke, his voice gruff and cold.

  “I don’t think this ends for a while,” I say gently. “Remember what Ferez predicted . . . if Risers are the future, it’s going to take a long time for the Zodiac to accept that. I’m not sure we’ll see the end of this in our lifetime. How we act on the journey is what matters.”

  “Did you overdose on Aquarian juice this morning?” asks Deke, and Nishi smiles but rolls her eyes at his false accusation.

  I force a smile, but the ghostly face from the Ephemeris floats through my thoughts. Could it be that I’m really becoming a Philosopher? Am I part of the new wave of Risers?

  “You okay?” asks Nishi, looking at me across Deke’s chest.

  I haven’t told anyone about that vision yet, and I don’t plan to. “Yeah,” I say, “I just miss this. I miss being an Acolyte. I never thought I’d feel that way when we were actually on Elara.”

  “Me too,” says Nishi, and Deke nods.

  “Where do you guys think Kai is?” I ask. We last saw him on the Cancrian settlement on Gemini, where he’d located an aunt. She had taken custody of him by the time I left for Capricorn.

  “His aunt said they were staying on Hydragyr,” says Nishi. “It’s the largest settlement, so it’s where they’d have the best chance of finding other surviving family members.”

  “Do you think Cancer’s coming back, Rho?” Deke’s voice sounds more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard it.

  Right now, I don’t know what I think. I just know I want to heal him. I want to heal all my friends across the Zodiac. I want to bring them hope.

  “I know it is.”

  “We’re nearly at the location,” says Twain, knocking on my cabin door in what would be early morning back on Sagittarius.