Thirteen Rising

by Romina Russell

  A machine that looks like a massive silver cat lands lightly and soundlessly before us, and I gasp.

  A Panthera plane.

  Everyone in the Zodiac has heard of Panthera planes, but hardly anyone has ever seen one. Only the highest level of Leonine government officials have access to them because of their stealth—since the ships don’t exactly fly, they have no real engine and operate on minimal technology, so they slip past almost every kind of detection.

  Panthera planes play a big part in pretty much every Leonine action film, so on Cancer every kid grew up wanting one. Even Dad used to talk about them.

  The craft operates on four powerfully springy legs that silently leap from rooftop to rooftop. The only windows are in the plane’s catlike head, where the driver sits, guiding the legs’ direction.

  An entryway opens in the silver cat’s round belly, and Ophiuchus and I follow Blaze inside, Murmurs aimed at our backs. The space is dark and velvety, without windows or wallscreens, and each of us straps into a seat. Then the mechanical cat extends its legs, and the craft barely shakes as we leap from roof to roof.

  With nothing to watch or listen to, all I have to think about is the meeting that’s coming. If Traxon’s betrayal did anything, it cemented that I was right not to trust anyone but myself. It’s not like any of this changes my plan anyway: I was always going to go before Aquarius and beg for Nishi’s life. I was just hoping to show up on my terms, not dragged in at gunpoint.

  My stomach tickles as the Panthera makes an especially low jump, and as soon as we land, Blaze and the soldiers get to their feet. When we deplane, I turn around quickly to watch the huge silver cat leap away.

  We’re on the banks of a vast body of water, and docked on the blue shore is a piece of home I never thought I’d see.

  A giant ridged shell reaches up on either side of the iconic Cancrian vessel we called the Mothership. It’s the floating residence where our Holy Mothers used to live. Aquarius must have moved the Party’s headquarters here for me.

  I’ve always dreamt of seeing this place up close. I studied it so much as a kid that I memorized everything about it, and Mom promised to take me one day if I trained hard enough.

  The top part of the ship is domed and crystalized, and it looks like a pearl caught in a giant nar-clam’s jaws. This Leonine replica is smaller than the real vessel, but it still looks sizable enough to hold a few hundred people.

  Even though it’s a knockoff, I still feel a chill as I step onto the boarding ramp, like I’m entering the holiest home on House Cancer. Since it’s an abridged version, the Leonines only included the parts that are best known to us, so we step directly into one of the most famous places in the ship—the Family Room.

  It’s a hall decorated with the crests of Cancer’s twelve founding families, and it’s where Mother Origene used to hold her beloved “seaside chats.”

  She would sail to different parts of the planet and invite families from all levels of society to sit with her and discuss everything and anything. Then she’d listen to questions and complaints from anyone, even kids, and Lodestars would broadcast the chat to the whole planet. I wanted so badly to attend one so I could show her everything Mom taught me and make both of them proud.

  Which inspiring initiatives will Cancrians remember from my tenure as Guardian? The way I ran away from the Crab constellation right after my coronation, or how I led an armada of Zodai to their deaths?

  I try to keep focused on the present as we climb up a spiral staircase that’s polished and pink, like the inside of a seashell. It goes on for so long that my muscles start screaming in agony, reminding me that my body hasn’t fully recovered from the Sumber yet.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when we finally reach the top, and I lean against the wall to catch my breath. We’re in a domed room encased in crystal, a place few people have ever seen—the Holy Mother’s reading room.

  The Marad soldiers are no longer with us, and now it’s just Blaze, Ophiuchus, and . . . Aquarius.

  He stands before us in a billowing aqua cloak, but he’s not looking at me. He and Ophiuchus are staring at each other like Blaze and I don’t exist.

  It’s strange to see the Original Guardians in these bodies—Aquarius as a forty-something man and Ophiuchus as a teen. Yet both are really fallen stars who’ve shared an eternity together.

  Ophiuchus’s silver eyes gleam with emotion, like he’s finally yanked his head out of the astral plane and joined us in reality. Aquarius moves toward him until they’re standing face to face.

  “I meant for you to leave Pisces with me. But when I was hit, my people chose to save me rather than follow my orders to bring you with us. I’m sorry.”

  “Your eyes.”

  Ophiuchus’s voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper. “They’re the only part of you that hasn’t changed.”

  Aquarius reaches into his robe and pulls out the diamond-bright Talisman he brought to the Cathedral—Ophiuchus’s Star Stone. The Thirteenth Guardian stares at it in muted shock, and I spy his jaw clenching.

  But Aquarius doesn’t notice his reaction because he closes his eyes and holds the Talisman between his hands, concentrating so hard that a vein bulges on his forehead, and he seems to be in terrible pain. After a moment, his face relaxes and he lowers his hands.

  When he opens his eyes, his ivory features glow, a ghost of the moonlight he gave off long ago. His silver hair grows silkier, and even his voice sounds different, more velvety than before. He looks ageless and otherworldly, like he’s shed his human skin at last.

  “Does this please you more?” he murmurs as he slips the Stone back inside his cloak.

  Ophiuchus exhales heavily. “You know I never cared for such things. It was your soul I admired, not your shell.”

  “Where’s Nishi?”

  Aquarius jerks his face to me, like he’s just noticing I’m here.

  “Wandering Star, welcome!” He gives me a bow that only serves to remind me of how little power I actually have in this room. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I’m not here for tea,” I say, my voice a low growl. “I came to bring you Ophiuchus in exchange for my friend. Now free Nishi.”

  “You’re quite wrong,” says Aquarius pleasantly. “Ophiuchus came to me of his own accord, same as you . . . but you have other things to barter with.”

  I cross my arms. “What do you want?”

  “When you’re really ready to listen,” he says in a maddeningly condescending tone, “I’ll tell you.”

  I ball my hands into fists at my sides and try to restrain the Barer from activating. “Please—I can’t wait anymore. Every moment she’s in there, Nishi’s suffering.”

  My voice cracks, and though my gut hardens in disgust, I fall to my knees before him.

  “Take me instead. Let me take her place in the nightmare world. I’ll do anything—just get her out of there. Please. Name your price and I’ll pay it, but don’t make her stay in there another moment. I’m begging you—”

  “Rho.”

  Aquarius frowns, and to my shock he drops to his knees before me, too. His pink eyes look so concerned that a more trusting version of myself might have believed he actually cares. “I told my army to avoid inflicting pain on her at all costs. They should have used the Sumber’s dream chamber, not nightmare. Were you also—?”

  He reads the answer on my face because he grows even more pallid. “I’m so sorry . . . I have forgotten how frail mortal minds can be. We will have her awoken immediately, and you can go to her straightaway.”

  The whole Zodiac suddenly fades to background noise.

  “I can go now?”

  “Absolutely.” He looks to Blaze. “Please see that this is done immediately, and let Rho have some privacy with her friend. I expect Nishi to receive the best care possible, and I will personally see to anyone who disobeys m
e. Clear?”

  Blaze nods. “On my honor.”

  I take one last glance at Ophiuchus, who’s still staring at Aquarius and looking hopeful for the first time, and though part of me would like to stay to hear what’s said between them, nothing matters more than Nishi. So I run after Blaze, who’s climbing down a different spiral staircase.

  I remember from my studies that the Mothership has four wings, just like the Cancrian embassy has four bungalows, but what’s new are all the books stuffed into every shelf and nook and cranny—the paper kind that are rarely sold on most Houses anymore, since everything went holographic centuries ago.

  “Aquarius is quite the reader,” Blaze explains as we step into a sitting area crammed with more manuscripts. “He’s read every single book every Zodai on every House has ever published.”

  As I pass the rows of spines, I wonder how we stand a chance against someone who knows us better than we know ourselves.

  At the other end of the sitting area is a set of swinging double doors. Inside is a medical bay with curtains hanging from the ceiling between hospital beds, but only one set is drawn around the sole patient.

  I race past Blaze and shove back the black curtains.

  Nishi.

  I drape myself over her chest and clutch her to me, my breaths loud and labored. I found her. She’s alive.

  We’re together, and it’s real.

  “Rho, move back so they can help her,” says Blaze, and I look up to see a pair of Leonine healers coming over. I step aside without letting go of Nishi’s hand, and I watch as they inject something into her system. Nishi suddenly grips my fingers, and I gasp—but the others don’t seem surprised.

  “It just means the injection’s kicked in,” explains Blaze. “Now it’s up to Nishi’s mind to wake up.”

  “I remember,” I say through gritted teeth. “Leave us.”

  “But Aquarius said to offer her the best care—”

  “And I will,” I say, glaring at him. “I want you all out of here. Go tell Aquarius if you want, but I’m sure he’ll instruct you to follow my wishes.”

  “Okay, then,” says Blaze. “Let’s go.”

  I shut the curtains around us and sit next to Nishi, taking her hand again. Since she’s already faced her worst fear, the antidote shouldn’t take long to work. But I watch her for hours, and her eyes never open.

  At one point, Blaze comes by and drops off food for me, but I don’t touch it. He offers to escort me to my quarters, but I ignore him until he goes away.

  “Please, Nish,” I whisper, late into the night when the lights have been dimmed and the whole place is silent. “Please wake up. I’m so sorry I left you for so long, but you’re safe now, I promise. You have to fight for this. Please fight. I need you.”

  I must doze off at some point, because the next thing I know I jerk awake to find Nishi’s eyelids blinking open.

  “Nish?” I whisper, my voice thick with hope.

  Her amber irises find mine, and her hand twitches, so I squeeze her fingers. “I’m here,” I say, cupping her face with my free hand. “You’re okay. Just follow the sound of my voice,” I go on, repeating everything I remember the Ariean healer saying to me. “Inhale deeply, then exhale, but take your time. Blink once if you can feel my hand squeezing yours.”

  She blinks.

  “Good. Can you try squeezing back?” I wait to feel something, but nothing happens. “It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “You’re okay.”

  Her fingers suddenly clamp down on mine, and my face splits into its first smile since Pisces. My shoulders fall and a pressure eases behind my eyes, and only now do I realize how tightly wound I’ve been this whole time.

  Then Nishi’s lips part, and she whispers hoarsely, “I knew you’d find me, Rho.”

  22

  THE SECOND THING NISHI SAYS is, “You’re not real.” Her expression falls, and what little color she had recovered begins to fade.

  “I am, Nish, I promise,” I whisper, squeezing her hand firmly, but her fingers are limp and panic is exploding in her eyes.

  “Nish,” I plead as gently as I can. “You’re safe, I swear it.”

  Her whole body stiffens, her shoulders peaking up, her hand twitching in mine. She doesn’t trust me. “I know you’re scared,” I say, stroking her dark hair. “So how about we just sit here and wait for a bit?”

  Nishi nods her head slightly but doesn’t say a word. After almost an hour of holding hands in silence, she finally seems to relax, and I try talking to her again. “How do you feel?”

  “Confused,” she finally answers, sitting up. I grab the glass I left on the counter, and I slowly tip the water into her mouth. When she wraps her own hands around the glass, I let go.

  After a few sips she asks, “Where are we?”

  “With the Tomorrow Party.”

  “Why did they let you come to me?”

  “What do you remember from what I told you in the Sumber?” I ask tentatively.

  She takes another drink of water. Then she hands the glass back to me and says, “Crompton is the master.”

  I nod. “He gave me permission to see you. I don’t know why—but I’m not questioning it. I just want to get you back to the others.”

  Her eyes grow alarmed. “Rho, we have to get out of here now, before the Party members come for us. The master will never let us go—”

  “Shhh, calm down,” I say. “First you have to recover your strength. We’ll worry about everything else once you’re better. We’re safe for now.”

  “How? How are we safe, Rho? These are the same people who shot us with the Sumber in the first place—”

  “Just trust me, Nish,” I say, my voice firmer than before. “I’ll protect you—I swear it on my mother’s life.”

  The ceiling lights suddenly brighten, and I hear footsteps. I get to my feet and position myself in front of the bed, my Barer at the ready in case I need to defend Nishi.

  One of the healers pokes her head in through the curtains. When she sees that Nishi’s awake, she looks pleased. “May I check her vitals?” she asks me.

  I nod, and she comes in and reviews the data flashing on the holographic screens. “Everything looks good,” she says at last. “But you’ve been under for so long that your muscles need rehabilitation. We can pop you into a healing pod if you’d like to expedite things—otherwise, you’re looking at a couple more days in here.”

  “She’ll take the healing pod,” I say before Nishi can speak. There’s no time for an extended hospital stay.

  “Actually, she’ll heal naturally,” says Nishi testily.

  I turn to her. “You need to get better faster than that.”

  “I’m not going inside the healing pod,” she says, her voice loud but shaky.

  “Why not?”

  She drops her gaze, and suddenly I realize I know the answer. She doesn’t want to go back to sleep.

  How could I not anticipate that fear when it’s tormented me, too?

  “We have dreamless sleeping tonics,” says the healer gently, understanding the problem as well.

  Nishi perks up a bit at this news, but then she abruptly turns to me, concern resurfacing in her eyes. “I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I assure her. “I promise.”

  She nods in agreement, and the nurse and I carry Nishi between us. Once she’s sealed inside, the pod runs a scan, and then the total time it will take to heal Nishi flashes on a screen. While the nurse sets the program to begin, I step through the double doors and leave the medical bay.

  In the sitting area, I spot a small stone table with two plushy armchairs on either side, and Aquarius is sitting in one of them, reading the holographic news projecting from his Philosopher’s Stone. His skin is still glowing like a star.

  “I brought you breakfast,” he says, gesturing to the tray of foo
d on the table. “How long do you have?”

  I frown at his generosity and guardedly say, “The healing pod opens in fifteen hours.”

  “Excellent.” He waves the holographic screens aside and takes a sip of his tea. “Then we’ll make the most of our time together before you have to return. Would you like a nap or a shower?”

  “No.”

  It’s actually pretty liberating not to care about myself anymore. I’m free to run my body down completely because I have no future to save it for. Once I get Nishi away from here, all that matters is gaining Aquarius’s trust and thwarting his plans, or relaying what I learn to my friends so they can stop him.

  “So, any more questions, or are we about done with the dullatry?” I ask.

  His pink eyes sparkle with delight when he hears me using his vocabulary. “You eat, I’ll talk,” he says, and he waits for me to take a bite of toast before he keeps going, as though to remind me that all the power lies on his side of the table.

  “I’m sorry it’s proven so difficult for us to get together. I’d meant to avoid that by giving you the pearl necklace at the Cathedral.”

  “The necklace?”

  “It was a Psynergy device of my own design that enabled us to communicate privately.”

  Hysan was right. As usual.

  “I’m guessing your boyfriend interfered.”

  I cross my arms. “How did you know about Lord Neith?”

  “Now that was a clever trick,” he says, sitting up and leaning forward. A strand of silver hair falls over his face, and he brushes it back. “I can’t believe it got by me for so long. Any other era and I would never have been caught unaware by a human, but, as you know, I’ve been a bit . . . distracted.” He smiles indulgently, like I’m an amusing pet he loves but doesn’t respect.

  “I figured it out the day Neith malfunctioned at the Hippodrome, when he answered Insufficient data. At first I thought Neith had built a robot decoy for his own protection at Plenum meetings—so I watched him closely after that, and soon a golden-haired boy caught my eye. It wasn’t hard to figure the rest out.”