Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel (11 page)

“Who are you hanging out with now that Aryll and I are gone?”

“Jewel, mostly.”

I smile. At least one person is happier for our separation. Jewel is too shy to talk to Stanton in front of others, and he’s too oblivious to realize she’s in love with him, so maybe now that they’re alone they’ll finally get the chance to connect.

“Aryll doing okay?” he asks.

“He spent all dinner chatting with two cute Sagittarian sisters. I was going to go over and talk to him, but I figured he’d like me better if I didn’t.”

“I’ve taught you well.”

“Stan . . . I’m worried. Zodai can’t predict where the next attack is going to happen. What if Ochus is right?”

Stanton stares at me tenderly. “Rho,
all
the Houses are in just as much danger—Sagittarius probably most of all.”

I shake my head, annoyed. “Please don’t stay on Capricorn.”

“Have you always been such a worrier?” My brother grins at me. “What did Mom used to say when we worried about something that hadn’t even happened yet?”

The memory emerges before I can stifle it, and I recite, “
If you choose to live in yesterday or tomorrow, you’ll miss out on today.
”

“
The present’s a present
,” adds Stanton, quoting a line from a children’s holoshow we used to watch. I smile back, thinking to myself,
But tomorrow would be an even greater gift.

When we disconnect, I don’t rejoin the group. Instead, I wander into the mansion’s shadows.

Nishi wrote the name of each room’s guest on their door with an erasable paint Deke’s family used to produce. I’m one of the few people without a roommate. I stare at my name above the door handle, the letters a blend of blues drawn in Nishi’s curlicue lettering.

“You look troubled, my lady.”

I see Hysan’s outline, moving toward me in the semidarkness. “Is there anything I can do?”

I lean against the door and dig deep for any way to keep myself from swinging it open and inviting him in. “I . . . I saw Ophiuchus in my Ephemeris before coming here.”

Hysan’s eyes widen, and I tell him everything Ophiuchus told me. His brow burrows down as I speak, his clever mind probably already sorting
through meanings and possibilities and ramifications. When he meets my gaze again, his eyes are distant, still working through the problem.

“I’ll consult my reading room on Libra and see if there are any new portents for the Houses, particularly Capricorn. I suggest you read your Ephemeris again, too. The Psy shields will be fully activated within a few hours, so we only have tonight.”

“Good idea.”

We fall silent, the same forced quiet that slinked its way between us on Capricorn and has entombed us ever since. It’s a heavy hush, weighted down with unspoken feelings and inappropriate thoughts, and I know if he kissed me now I wouldn’t stop him.

Only he won’t do it unless I ask, and I won’t ask because I can’t.

“I’m only a few doors down,” he says. “If you need anything.” He leaves looking troubled, and I slip into my room wishing he were still with me.

When I’ve washed my face and changed into bed clothing, I flip off the lights and switch on Guardian Matador’s stone. A twinkling carousel of colors drowns the darkness, and I see the universe rendered in much more detail than with my Wave’s tutorial Ephemeris, though not as vast and all-encompassing as the black opal shows.

Once I’m Centered, the spectral map expands until its light reaches every corner of the room. I tune into the innermost beat of the Zodiac, trying to read what’s coming for us.

The fire Houses—Aries, Sagittarius, Leo—are still flaming brighter than the others, as they have been for weeks, heralding the coming war. But I don’t sense anything beyond that. I search for Ophiuchus. If he’s truly switched sides and wants to gain my trust, he should be eager to talk to me again. But, somehow, I feel disconnected from the deeper Psy.

My first thought is that the shield has gone up, but it can’t have—I’m still attuned to the Psynergy feeding my presence here. Maybe it’s this new Ephemeris. I switch to my Wave’s tutorial version instead, but I still can’t See. I’m blocked.

Everything feels wrong.

Sagittarius is about to be attacked, and we’re its best line of defense. No one’s coming to help, and that’s my fault for deepening the dividing lines between the Houses. Sirna and Mathias tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen. I had a chance to unite the galaxy, and I wasted it on my obsessive pursuit of the Thirteenth Guardian when I could have made a real and lasting difference in our world.

I pull on a robe and wander the black halls of the mansion to work off my frustration. The moons’ light pools on the floor, illuminating my path. In the distance, red holographic beams flicker like flames; moving closer, I spot several Sagittarians spread out in a reading room reviewing holographic texts. In the entrance hall I come across more Sagittarians sleepily going through the motions of Yarrot. Ezra and another girl are in a kitchen examining one of Hysan’s Veils while picking through leftover sushi.

Even though it’s the dead of night, there’s a restless energy bouncing in the air, keeping sleep away. By now I can identify the feeling as the brewing of fear and adrenaline that precedes battle, intensified by the Sagittarians’ curiosity about what it will be like to fight.

On my way back to bed, I stop by Hysan’s door. Like me, he’s rooming alone, and more than anything, I ache to step inside and into his arms.

But I don’t.

I DON’T FALL ASLEEP UNTIL
early morning, so I miss the day’s first meeting. As soon as I wake, I peek through the wide windows into the garden, where the Sagittarians have gathered for target practice. They’re using the pistols Hysan supplied. When they fire, all the Archers hit their marks.

This guest room is easily the biggest, most luxurious place I’ve ever stayed in. The canopy bed is double the size of even the one from the Libran embassy, and there are two closets—one for clothes, the second for shoes. Beside the bed is a controller with a button for
everything
: opening or darkening the windows, a holographic feed of every room of the house, adjusting the temperature of the stone floor to make it toasty or cool, and more.

I should be checking in with the group instead of admiring the room’s quirks, but I’m not ready. I don’t know how to face everyone when I can’t contribute what’s supposed to be my best skill. I can’t see what’s coming tomorrow.

Looking for some inspiration, I grab my Wave and beam Ferez’s holographic report, picking up Vecily’s story after Datsby was sent away.

The second moment that unearthed to me Vecily’s sense of purpose in joining the Axis is one very few people know about. It revealed itself to me when I was in the Zodiax transferring outdated memories to the newer Snow Globe technology, and I found a Taurian recording that I believe to have been deliberately misfiled centuries ago. The memory is as follows.

Vecily was nineteen and only a few months into her Guardianship. She was performing her nightly readings when she saw an omen so great, she couldn’t wait until morning to tell her cabinet, so she awoke her Guide and had him assemble her Advisors. “The Zodiac’s unity is tainted,” she told them, then revealed the rest of the omen. She had seen that, long ago, one Guardian had deceived all the others in an act of unprecedented treason. Until this deception was brought to light, she said, there would be no true trust among the Houses.

Vecily asked her Advisors to create a Zodai task force to surreptitiously investigate the past Guardians and discover the snake in their ranks. Yet their readings revealed nothing, and, furthermore, her council despised the idea of stirring up controversy when relations between the Houses were growing more fragile every day. Eventually, they disbanded and persuaded Vecily away from her plans.

As a Taurian, Vecily had been brought up to follow rules and respect her elders, even if she was the Guardian and they her Advisors, so she never argued or mentioned the omen again. Yet, as I am about to demonstrate by recounting a third crucial moment in Vecily’s life, I have reason to believe she never stopped seeing it.

I reread the blue text a few times. Though she didn’t know it, Vecily saw Ophiuchus. She foresaw his threat a millennium before I did—and no one believed her either. Even worse, the people of her House hid her vision, stashed it away as if it was something shameful.

How many other Guardians through history have seen Ophiuchus only to be thwarted from revealing his treachery by their own people? I’ve come the furthest—at least I managed to convince the universe for a whole galactic minute. But just as it was done to Vecily before me, those in power drowned out my warnings.

I let myself think of Mom for the first time in a while, specifically her Ochus tale about the Guardians who were too afraid to believe in their fears. I had to become Holy Mother to learn a truth she taught me a decade ago with a children’s story: Those in power are so afraid of losing it, they will do anything to keep the world under their control. Even when “anything” means ignoring dangerous truths that threaten to grow more powerful the longer they’re unaddressed.

I glimpse out the window. Gyzer is running his students through Yarrot training. It’s what Mathias would be doing if he were here. The thought is a knife stabbing my heart, and I look away.

My luggage is on the polished stone dressing table, and lined up next to it are my most prized possessions: my Wave, a parting gift from Dad when I moved to Elara; Mathias’s mother-of-pearl Astralator; Vecily’s Ephemeris; Hysan’s turquoise crab-shaped Psy shield; and the four silver moons from the suit the sisters made me. I touch the pink pearl on my chest that was a gift from Sirna, then pad over and search the pockets of my Lodestar suit for the galactic gold coin from Nova, adding it to my collection on the dresser.

Tokens of trust.

The phrase enters my mind unbidden, and I consider what it means. The people who gave me these items each did so because they believe in
me and wanted to contribute proof of that trust—proof that I can touch. It’s something Vecily didn’t have.
These are my true Talismans.

“Rho?” calls Nishi from outside the door.

“Come in, Nish.”

She bursts inside wearing a Cancrian blue suit that looks like our Acolyte uniforms, the ones we lost on Elara. Only instead of
House Cancer
, the tunic says
House Helios
—a nod to the ancient expression
Houses of Helios.
In addition to the Crab crest, there’s the Archer, the Lion, the Scorpion, the Triple Virgin, the Seagoat, the Ram, the Water Bearer, the Double, the Fish, the Bull, and the Scales of Justice.

My throat closes as I think of the bloodied flags from Sage Huxler’s Trinary Axis recollections.

“Guardian Brynda,” starts Nishi, breathless, “wants everyone who’s fighting to report now.” In her hands, she’s holding a suit just like hers. “I had only a couple of these made. I understand if you prefer to wear your Lodestar suit,” she says as she sets it down on my dresser, beside my Talismans, “but I wanted you to have the option.”

“Thanks,” I say, and as she leaves, I inspect the twelve colorful crests. This time, my mind flashes to a different Capricorn Guardian. I think of Sage Ferez and his collection of devices from every House. Maybe a millennium apart has been enough, and now it’s time for the Zodiac to come together.

I change into Nishi’s new suit and meet everyone in the creamy levlan sitting area. The students are a sea of lavender, with a smattering of blue and a spot of gold.

“Morning,” says Aryll. He’s wearing blue like me, but his suit is like Stanton’s—one of the Lodestar uniforms they handed out to survivors on the Geminin settlement. When he notices the added symbols on my tunic, his eyebrows draw together, as if in disappointment. His hardcore devotion to Cancer reminds me of my brother. “Did you talk to Stanton last night?”

“I did. How are you doing?”

He shrugs, and I catch his gaze straying to those Sagittarian sisters. “Better than on Capricorn.”

“I see.” I smile at him, and his blush is concealed by his already sunburned skin. He’s as red as a hookcrab’s shell.

Nishi and Deke are at the front of the room with Hysan, and when she sees I’ve donned her outfit, she smiles. “I count everyone,” I hear her tell him. In his golden Knight suit, Hysan looks like hope personified.

He says something to Nishi, and she nods and gazes out at all of us. “Tomorrow is the Marad’s deadline. Guardian Brynda wants everyone to convene to discuss final plans. Let’s stay together and move quickly.”

We file out, and I fall back toward the tail end of the group, still not ready to reveal my failure. We take the same moving pathway, swiftly winding through the clashing colors of our Sagittarian surroundings, but when we reach the government square we pass the four starscrapers and cut onto a new pathway. Hysan hangs back to join me, leaving Nishi and Deke in the lead. “Morning, my lady. Did you See?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. Then I realize he said
sleep
, not
See
. “Oh, I mean . . . yes, some.”

“I didn’t See anything either.” Up close, he looks just as worried as he did last night. We don’t say anything else, and soon the busy structures surrounding us melt into a sweeping Gemstone Park that stretches far into the flickering horizon. The vast plaza is a sparkling expanse of stones, glinting in elaborate patterns and brilliant hues.

Gathered on the rolling landscape is a crowd of Stargazers huddled beneath the floating hologram of an Archer. Looming behind them are six very different-looking ships, each waving its own holographic flag: the yellow Scales of Justice, the blue Crab, the orange Double, the brown Seagoat, the green Triple Virgin, and the silver Fish.

Other Houses came.

In the ships’ shadows, dozens of Zodai gather in groups. The leaders of each delegation stand apart from the crowd, conferring with Brynda and her Advisors. When Brynda spots Hysan and me, she calls us over, and the rest of our troop joins the Stargazers.

As we approach, my mouth turns to sandpaper. What will I say when she asks what I read in the stars last night?

Suddenly I feel a pair of small hands clasp around my waist, and I look down to see a startlingly pretty girl with skin as pale as the inside of a cantaloupe and deep, tunnel-like eyes.

“Rubi!”

“How exciting it is to be part of the encore,” she says with a big, youthful smile. “Let’s hope we survive again!”

Looking closer, I notice she’s not the same childlike mischief-maker from a few weeks ago—she’s aged. Her expression is weary, and there are faint lines beneath her eyes. It seems that ever since Caasy died, Rubi’s years have been catching up with her.

Even though Gemini is ruled in pairs, Caasy remains Guardian in spirit, and his reign doesn’t end until his Twin’s does.

While it’s jarring to see Rubi looking so downtrodden, my mood lifts at the sight of her. I survey the other House leaders, and they stare at me with wide eyes. As I look into their faces, I’m paralyzed with dread. I was expecting Zodai. Military leaders.
Adults
.

Not teenagers.

I look to Hysan in alarm, but he’s not surprised or upset.

“Hysan, you’ve been holding out on us,” says Brynda, sounding absolutely thrilled by his deception. “Thank Helios you warned us this morning; otherwise our Stargazers would have shot their ships down,” she adds with a laugh, as our new allies look on in horror.

Hysan turns to me and explains. “These are students I know from my travels, and they wanted to be part of the fight. I didn’t tell you about them
because I didn’t want to risk giving our plan away to any potential Marad spies. They came on their own chartered planes. They’re not here as representatives from their governments. They’re here as private citizens, of their own accord.”

The dead bodies from Sage Huxler’s memories continue to grow more pronounced in my mind, along with the panic that’s been brewing in my belly all morning. “Excuse us,” I say, pulling Hysan aside to speak privately. Though not invited, Rubi happily tags along with us.

“How’d you convince these people to come?” I ask when we’re out of earshot.

“I didn’t have to convince them, Rho,” he says, clearly surprised by my question. “All I had to say was that you would probably be leading the charge.”

“For Helios’s sake, why do you think I came?” interjects Rubi.

“Right, because things went so well the last time I led us into battle,” I snap at them.

“Rho . . . you don’t get it.” Hysan steps up to me so that I’m forced to focus on his face. “The Plenum is yesterday; these students are tomorrow—and they’re here because they believe in your vision for the Zodiac. Today is our chance to unite our universe, and it starts with them.”

“Hysan, I had my chance. I’m responsible for enough deaths. The armada is known as mine, and what happened to it will be my fault forever. . . .” Thoughts of the Trinary Axis crowd my mind, and I shake my head to clear it. Everyone here wants me to lead, but I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know where I’m going.

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it,” I say, my sudden anger surprising even me. “Cancer is already responsible for the Axis, and a thousand years haven’t been long enough for us to move past that guilt. Thanks to me, we’re now going down for the armada, and if anyone ever found out I broke the Tab—”

I stop speaking, not just because Rubi’s listening, but because of Hysan’s face. It appears that I just confirmed something for him, something he suspected—and he looks hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I say, no longer even sure what I’m apologizing for. “I can’t make Cancer the face of another war.”

“It’s a little late for that,” says Rubi, pointing to the sky.

I squint as my gaze follows her finger to a holographic image that looks like the serpent from the old Ophiuchus glyph . . . only there’s something else there. A girl is wrangling the snake into submission, and she looks a lot like—

“Rho!”

Aryll runs over, pointing at the moving image overhead. The snake writhes and struggles against the girl’s powerful hold. “You’re in the sky!”

“
What is that?
” I ask.

“A glyph. It’s the sign brandished by your supporters, and it’s been popping up everywhere,” says Brynda, joining us. “I’m surprised you didn’t see it stamped on the walls of the Capital. It’s you kicking Ophiuchus’s ass. Now, can we please get back to the meeting, and can you save your personal dramas for when we’re not at war?”

Aryll sticks by me as we rejoin the others—I can see Stanton written all over this gesture—and Hysan looks disgruntled about it. The crew leaders from each House introduce themselves and exchange the hand touch with me.

“I’m Candela Snowe,” says the Cancrian. She has crunchy curls and a heart-shaped face.

“Thank you so much for coming, Candela.” We bump fists—and then I notice she’s wearing a Zodai University uniform.

“I was also on Elara when we were attacked,” she says quietly, seeing where my eyes have strayed. “The ship I boarded landed on Oceon 4, and by the time I got to Oceon 6, you had already taken off for Gemini.
I watched you on the newsfeeds addressing the Plenum after Virgo was attacked, and I can’t agree with you more—we have to unite to survive.”

“Thank you,” I repeat, and we bump fists again.

The olive-skinned Virgo touches hands with me next, introducing himself as Twain. He has windswept auburn hair and, like all Virgos, eyes the color of moss. “Thank you for staying with Empress Moira when she was wounded,” he says, bowing and touching his heart in the Virgo sign of friendship. I mimic the gesture. “You must be a rare talent to have detected Dark Matter in the Psy when our Empress did not.”