And I’m ashamed to admit that a small part of me is intrigued.
• • •
When the party ends, Aquarius offers to escort me back to my room. While we walk, I want to say something about the people I met, something that will make him think I’m coming around so he’ll tell me more about the portal. But instead I ask, “Why are you being so open with me? How do you know I’m not a double agent?”
I instantly bite my lip, regretting my bluntness, but to my shock, Aquarius laughs. “Because you’re so honest that you can’t help yourself,” he says, still smiling. “Also because trust is a two-man operation: It won’t work unless we both feel it. And, more to the point, because you trusted me with a secret about your mother even when you didn’t know who I was or whether I was trustworthy.”
“How can you expect me to listen to anything you say when just yesterday you had my world destroyed and my family and friends killed?” I try to keep the hatred out of my voice, but it’s an especially impossible feat when I’m walking through sand-and-seashell halls that are constant reminders of what he’s taken from me.
He stops and faces me, just a few feet shy of the east wing staircase. The light under my skin is feeble since by now the drink’s glowing effect has mostly worn off, but Aquarius still shines as luminously as a full moon in a black sky.
“I am sorry for your pain, Rho.”
I’m not sure he’s capable of remorse, but even if it’s a performance, the apology sounds real.
“I understand this makes me a monster in your eyes, but you are the first human whose life I have felt invested in. I don’t think I ever fully understood the weight of mortal emotions until now, when for the first time in millennia, I have something to lose.
“Ophiuchus . . . he was different.” His voice grows so soft that it feels steeped in memories. “He had a vulnerability to him, a special ability to access the purest parts of his core, and it enabled him to think as both man and god.”
“Do you regret what you did to him?” I chance.
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t look upset so much as pensive. He starts climbing up the polished pink staircase, and I follow a step behind.
“I don’t see the past the same way you do, so I don’t have regrets,” he says as we spiral upward.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason there are no lines in nature. There are only circles. O’s. Everything works in cycles, even immortality, because everything is happening simultaneously: We are all growing, we are all dying. Time is just how we give small moments meaning. It contextualizes our existence. But it’s like a railing on a staircase: On its own, it’s nothing.”
We step off the spiral stairs and pad down another sand-and-seashell passage. “We’re so obsessed with the future and the past,” he goes on, “but neither of them truly exist. There is only the present. This moment.”
His words send me plummeting back in time, to the day Mom left. Stan’s story about a little girl who got lost on a new planet and wouldn’t let herself enjoy it because she couldn’t let go of her home. And a different Stantonism jumps out at me from that story instead of the usual one.
Every second is a choice we make.
Aquarius stops outside suite number nine, and the concerned way his sunset eyes sweep my face makes me think of Dad the morning after Mom left us. He looks like a parent trying to explain something difficult to their child.
“Rho, we can never be free of Time’s rule because none of us are truly immortal—not even the stars in the sky. But life is forever. Existence is eternal. Your compassion for your fellow humans is admirable, but the Zodiac’s thirteen skills were divided among thirteen worlds, not people, because it’s the survival of the species, not individuals, that matters.”
I don’t want to think that way.
I could never think that way.
So I cut directly to what I want to know. “What will you take for Nishi’s freedom?”
His brow furrows and his expression grows puzzled. “I don’t understand. I want her to survive the Last Prophecy. I want her to come with us. Don’t you?”
Blood drains from my face, and I drop my gaze as I spot the flaw in my plan. If I push too hard for her to go, I’m showing him my hand—so I need to soften my approach. “I think she needs to get away from here and decide for herself . . . or she’ll always feel like a prisoner.”
“What do you propose?”
“I’d like to send her back to our friends. Who knows, maybe she’ll even bring some of them over to our side.” I didn’t mean to say “our side,” so I stop speaking abruptly when I hear the words fly from my mouth.
Aquarius nods like he’s considering my viewpoint, but then he grows resolute again. “This is war, Rho, and exceptions are weaknesses. If those opposing us regain Nishi—a powerful ally—then we must have something equally powerful in exchange.”
From the calculating way he’s looking me, I can sense another test coming on, and I steel my gut.
“You asked me what I want from the Luminaries earlier. I’m after a prophecy they’re concealing from me—a vision of the universe that awaits us through the portal. I will grant you Nishi’s freedom if you can procure me another Luminary.”
“But—you said Mom didn’t know anything. Why would a different Luminary know more?”
“Your mother is a hard woman to get information from.”
That’s the understatement of my lifetime.
“How do you know this prophecy even exists?” I press.
“I’ve come close to Seeing it enough times over the centuries that I know it’s there, and it’s being blocked by the same power that lets the Luminaries hide from me in the Psy. Any time I’ve been able to locate a member, I Psyphon their Psynergy to try to glimpse the prophecy, but so far it hasn’t worked.”
He Psyphoned Mom.
My stomach hardens with disgust at the violation even as my chest relaxes with relief that she wasn’t physically tortured.
“Until now,” he goes on in his velvety voice, “I’d only ever managed to Psyphon former Luminaries or recruits I’ve been able to capture before they vanish from existence, but I’ve never read a current Luminary, one who hasn’t severed her connection to the society. Tomorrow morning, I want you to convince your mother to reach out to them and ask them to send someone to help. Once the Luminary arrives, you have my word that one of our ships will fly Nishi anywhere she wants.”
I cross my arms. “How can I trust that when you’ve already gone after everyone I love? Why would you suddenly leave her alone now?”
“Haven’t you noticed that my army hasn’t attacked the Zodiac in months?” he asks, his expression open, his gaze direct. “We haven’t even bothered tracking down your resistance because it’s not our concern—those are Zodai affairs, and this solar system won’t exist for much longer. I swear to you that we will not go after any of your friends or the Zodai they’re working with—and I would not want to risk your friendship or your trust by betraying you. The only two beings in the Zodiac I want by my side are already here . . . Ophiuchus and you.”
“Sir.”
I spin around to see that Blaze has just come up behind us, and I spy something wild in his eyes when he looks at me, but he quickly tames it down when Aquarius turns. I wonder if he heard the last thing the Original Guardian said.
“I’m coming, Blaze.” Aquarius gives me a small bow. “Good night, Wandering Star.”
He starts walking away.
The longer I take to make this decision, the longer it will take to get Nishi out of here because they’ll have to fly to Aries first. And I don’t want my best friend here another moment.
If—or when—Aquarius discovers I’m a double agent, he’ll definitely use her to punish me. I need her as far away from here as possible.
Gamba’s face f
orces its way to the forefront of my mind even though I’ve been trying to push it back this whole conversation. Am I really considering handing over an innocent girl to the same monsters that tortured and traumatized me and Nishi and Mathias and Pandora?
But I already committed to free Nishi, and that’s what I intend to do. Gamba can take care of herself. She chose to be a Luminary, and she took herself out of hiding to get involved—but Nishi never asked for any of this. She was only sticking by my side.
She’s endured enough.
“Wait,” I say, and Blaze and Aquarius stop by the staircase. I swallow, hard. “I know where you can find another Luminary.”
25
I TRY TO GET SOME sleep like Nishi suggested, but when blue dawn light streams in through the window, I’m not sure I ever even closed my eyes. Sitting upright, my head is heavy on my neck and my left eyelid feels twitchy.
I open the room’s closet and pull on a royal purple pantsuit. I’m not surprised to find it fits me perfectly; I might as well be living in the virtual world of a holo-game. Or the nightmare world of the Sumber.
These theories are further reinforced when I step out of my room and glimpse a familiar face with a headful of braids.
I instinctively take off after Ezra as she rounds the corner, but when I get to the end of the hall, she’s gone. I follow in the direction where she disappeared, peeking into a couple of alcoves and common spaces, but they’re all empty.
I turn to head back when I notice a door that’s slightly ajar, like someone thought they closed it but the lock didn’t catch. I swing it open slowly and slip inside a large supply closet with a few rows of shelves that house cleaners and maintenance tools.
“Ezra?” I call out, looking between the aisles. Is she hiding in here?
There’s a small door at the back of the space, and since it’s also ajar, I pull it open. It’s an empty lavatory.
I give up and turn around to leave, but I stumble back at the sight of a grave, golden face glaring at me.
“Hysan—what are you doing here?” I whisper when I’ve recovered my breath.
Since it takes him a moment to react, I know he’s a hologram—but his transmission is remarkably clear, like he’s only a few rooms over. Ezra must be projecting his call through whatever special comm device they designed.
She set me up.
The anger lining his frozen face transforms into raw concern when his hologram activates. “Rho, are you okay?”
I’m guessing I look like total sharkshit.
“I’m fine.”
“Has he hurt you?”
“Hysan, stop,” I snap, staring at the shelves behind him to avoid his gaze. “Why do you even care after what I did to you?”
“Believe me, I had every intention of being angry,” he says, and even without looking, I can feel his eyes scrutinizing me closely. “But you’re not yourself. Ezra’s working on a plan to get you and Nishi out of there—”
My stomach flips itself, and I say, “We don’t need Ezra’s help. I’ve got it handled.”
Every part of me itches to warn him of what I’ve done, but I can’t form the words, and I can’t bear to see his face when he learns how I’ve badly I’ve betrayed him and everyone else on Phaet. There’s no coming back from what I’ve done.
But I wasn’t coming back anyway.
“How?” he demands. “What’s your strategy?”
“Why is it so hard for you to trust my decisions?” I shoot back.
And since I know he’s going to try to sweet-talk me into opening up, I strike first.
“I told you I wasn’t ready to lead the armada when we were on the Hippodrome stage, but you insisted I was. It didn’t matter to you that I didn’t want that role. Then you pushed me again on Centaurion by recruiting an entire army of teens using my name without even asking whether or not I wanted the charge! And on Phaet you claimed I would lead us, but you were totally fine with censoring my reports. You’ve gotten so used to being the puppeteer behind the scenes that you treat me like one of your androids!”
He flinches at my words like they’re projectiles, and before he can defend himself, I say, “I know what I’m doing. And if you really believe all the things you’ve said about me, then you’ll respect my choices.”
I walk through him to leave, and since he’s a hologram, he can’t follow. “Rho—wait!”
But I don’t.
I have no idea how private that conversation was—if he and Ezra haven’t been caught yet, then maybe we weren’t either. But what if Aquarius knows all about Ezra and Gyzer, and he’s just playing along for now? Either way, I’m pretty sure nothing I said could make Aquarius distrustful.
I hope.
When I get to the medical bay, breakfast is brought in for us. Nishi wants to hear all about dinner and everything that’s happened since the Sumber. So I tell her in detail about Pisces, from my reunion with Mom to what went down in the Cathedral, and then I fill her in on the Artistry Pride. I pretend I can’t talk about the Zodai army so I won’t give away their headquarters, even though I already have.
Whenever Nishi asks about the deal I struck with the master to be here or begins to reference an escape plan for breaking out, I change the subject to remind her we’re being watched. We visit my quarters in the afternoon, where there’s a matching purple suit in Nishi’s size waiting for her. We take turns showering, and right as we’re flipping on the wallscreen to check the news, there’s a knock on my door.
“Nishi’s transport is here,” announces Blaze.
“What—what’s going on?” Nishi turns to me in alarm.
“We’re leaving,” I say. It’s half-true.
We follow Blaze downstairs, and I keep up with him so that Nishi can’t try talking to me. We step outdoors onto a hangar deck in the back of the vessel where there are three small black bullet-ships, but only one of them has its engine running.
Aquarius must have spacecraft positioned all over the galaxy if he picked up Gamba this quickly—and they must fly exceedingly fast.
“What’s happening?” Nishi asks me again, and she doesn’t bother keeping her voice down. She knows something’s wrong, and I know I can’t hide it from her anymore.
I pull her in for a hug and whisper all I dare say into her ear. “I can’t go with you yet. Find Hysan. Tell him it’s Dark Matter that will make the sun go dark, not the portal, and that’s why Aquarius is leaving. See if Hysan can disprove it.”
She stares at me in awe as we pull apart, her long, slanted eyes bright with disbelief. She seems ready to cause a scene, but something in my expression shuts down the impulse, and instead she says, “Be careful, Rho. You might not like yourself when this is over.”
They’re the same words I said to her on Aquarius. I nod like I agree, but she doesn’t realize that for me it’s already over.
The only reason I’m still fighting is for her.
Tears fall from Nishi’s eyes, but mine don’t even burn. I’m so numb that it shouldn’t be hard to convince Aquarius I’m ready to embrace his plans. I just have to be like one of those razed buildings Blaze described that’s ready to be designed anew.
I’ll make this up to Nishi and Hysan and the others when I uncover Aquarius’s exact plans for opening the portal. It’s the last thing I’ll do for them before I join my brother.
“Please go, Nish,” I say softly. “I woke up and left you in the Sumber when you asked me to—now I’m begging you to do this for me.”
She stares deeply into my eyes, and I see something there that I haven’t felt in a long time.
Trust.
“Hold on for me the way I held on for you,” she says, and she squeezes my hand before turning to Blaze.
She spares him a dark glare and flashes him an obscene gesture that almost makes me smile, and then she starts walking toward the Mara
d soldier that just disembarked from the bullet-ship. But before she gets there, another soldier deplanes, struggling with a bound and gagged Gamba.
Nishi freezes in horror.
She turns to me with an unfamiliar expression, one completely different from the way she just looked at me moments ago. Like she’s seeing me clearly for the first time.
“Rho, what did you do?”
I spin and walk away, unable to see that look on Nishi’s face.
“RHO! How could you? You knew I wouldn’t want this—not at this price! How could you?”
She keeps shouting at me, but I move onward, unwilling to hear her screams. She can hate me if she wants, but I got her out—that’s all that matters. Her fate is finally in her own hands.
When I’m back indoors, I know Blaze is following me up the stairs, and after a moment I say, “I’m fine.”
“Would you rather I leave you alone?” he asks.
“Can you take me to Ophiuchus?”
“Aquarius is the only one who sees him.”
I figured as much. I guess that means it’s time to face my other childhood monster.
“Then take me to my mother.”
• • •
Mom is in one of the smaller rooms belowdecks, but she has her own private lavatory and wallscreen, so it’s no prison cell. Her eyes look tired and her skin is sallow, but I see no visible bruises.
I was expecting to feel sorry for her—so the anger takes me by surprise. The moment I step across the threshold, I feel like I’ve crossed a barrier that releases some of the darkness that’s been keeping my numbness in place.
My brother died protecting a mother who stopped protecting him ages ago. A mother who lied to us every day of our lives, then abandoned us, and then replaced us with a child she chose to love honestly.
“Rho!” She springs off the bed and throws her arms around me. “Are you okay?”
It feels foreign to be hugged by her, and my arms don’t know what to do, so they stay limp at my sides. After the moment we shared on Pisces, I thought the worst between us was over—only it turns out she wasn’t being completely honest. I wonder if she was ever planning on telling Stanton and me about our sister.
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