Zodiac (21 page)

“We share the same universe, but we live in different worlds,”
she used to often remind me.

Yet despite her insistence on the Houses’ differences, I never saw the Zodiac as a collection of multicolored pearls caught in the same necklace’s orbit—I saw us as
one necklace
. Each pearl has its purpose, but no one is more important than another, and every pearl is integral to the beauty of the whole, and to our calling ourselves a necklace at all.

I’m embarrassed that it’s taken this trip to show me how naive that sounds. Mom was right: Every House I’ve visited functions as its own, separate world; even Cancer operates that way, only I never thought of it like that before. We don’t generally go around thinking of ourselves as one piece of a larger whole.

But now I have to address all the Houses and find a way to convince them we
are
one necklace. Every pearl matters. What happens to one star in our universe can and
does
affect every other.

That’s the advantage Ophiuchus holds over us: As long we keep on distrusting each other, we’re easier to pick off, one pearl at a time.

WHEN WE GET TO THE
VILLAGE
,
we have to remove our collars. The community is enclosed within a solid black fence, and guards barricade the only entrance, so we can’t sneak past without alerting them.

We’re immediately asked for proof of identification. An Aerian soldier holds out a small screen for our thumbprints. His colleagues scowl at the grime on our clothes.

As soon as Hysan’s thumb hovers over the screen, a hologram pops up of his face, and beneath it the words
Hysan Dax, House Libra, Diplomatic Envoy
. Plus a bunch of facts like his astrological fingerprint, birthdate, schooling, and other information I can’t see. Mathias goes next.
Lodestar Mathias Thais, House Cancer, Royal Advisor
. Then me.
Mother Rhoma Grace, House Cancer, Guardian
.

The soldiers look at me curiously.

“Thank you,” says Hysan, reaching out to bump fists with each of them. I spy glints of gold in the soldiers’ hands when they pull away, and each slips what look like galactic gold coins in their pockets. Then Hysan takes my hand and hurriedly pulls me through the entrance, Mathias following close behind.

On the other side of the wall, the International Village looks like a smaller version of our solar system. The village is round, like a clock, and divided into twelve embassies. At its center is an inter-House market with food and amenities from across the Zodiac.

The look, style, and operation of each House is so diverse that the effect is dizzying. The only thing I can compare this place to is an amusement park, where every section has a different theme. The embassies are considered sovereign territory, so they don’t fall under Ariean rule.

We pop in on the Libran side. Their building is a sleek-walled, armed fortress, surrounded by surveillance cameras and Zodai from their Royal Guard. To our other side is Virgo. The round, golden embassy looks like a beehive, and its recessed entrance gives way to a colorful fruit-and-vegetable garden on its front lawn.

Mathias runs ahead, and I break into a sprint after him. We both sense the Cancer Sea’s call.

We rush past Leo, an elevated theater house with live lions prowling the front—a couple of them are ripping into a hunk of raw meat—and then we see the Fourth House. The Cancrian embassy looks like an island villa: Instead of one building, we have four multilevel bungalows, each draped with airy curtains, the structures built from sand and seashells.

Like home on Kalymnos
, I think with a rush of breath.

Weaving through the four bungalows, and forming a protective barrier around the whole embassy, is a wide stream of water, winding like a serpent made from the Cancer Sea. There’s a plank bridging the stream, but two members of our Royal Guard are removing it for the night. I recognize their faces from Oceon 6. I sent them here the night I took my Guardian’s oath.

“Westky! Bromston!” Mathias calls out to the two Lodestars, and they stop what they’re doing.

“Lodestar Thais!” one shouts back, recognizing Mathias. “Are you here with Holy Mother?”

“He is,” I say, running up behind Mathias, a little out of breath. A smile spreads across my face. Home, at last . . . kind of.

The Lodestars reset the plank, and the three of us cross over. The ground floor of the first bungalow is the only place with lights on, so we go inside—which is easy, since it has no doors. From a quick glance, none of the four bungalows seem to offer any privacy on the first floor. Doors and walls are only for the higher stories.

The lobby we step into is designed to be a waiting area. Half the room is decked with hammocks and rocking chairs, each equipped with an embassy Wave for checking news and sending messages. The second half is taken up by a saltwater pool for swimming.

The only person here is a man seated at an official-looking desk. When we get closer, I realize he’s a hologram.

“I’m Lodestar Mathias Thais,” says Mathias as we approach. “Holy Mother is with me. We are looking for Amanta and Egon Thais.”

The holographic man’s eyes widen. They linger on me. Then they turn to Hysan. “Who is the Libran?”

“He’s—”

“Diplomatic envoy Hysan Dax,” says Hysan, cutting Mathias off mid-answer.

The explanation irritates Mathias because he clarifies, “He has been chauffeuring us on our journey. Do you know where my parents are?”

The hologram nods. “I was just shutting off for the night. I’m transmitting from bungalow three. Your parents are only one floor up. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

The hologram disappears. Just seconds later, two people run in toward us and fold Mathias up in their arms.

Hysan and I step away to give them privacy, the absence of my family suddenly hurting like real physical pain. This whole journey, I’ve tried to be strong, to focus on the mission, to put aside my own needs . . . but the truth is, I’ve never felt lonelier. Maybe I can try Waving Dad and Stanton from here. There might be a way to reach them by now.

Mathias brings his parents over to introduce me. Their eyes are rimmed red, but they smile and bow together. “Holy Mother.”

“Please, you needn’t bow,” I say, reaching out to them for the hand touch instead. “And please, call me Rho.”

It’s clear Mathias gets most of his features from Amanta, his mother, who’s tall, pale, and blonde. The wavy dark hair comes from his father, Egon. They seem happy beyond words to see their son . . . but there’s also a deep sadness that’s impossible to ignore. They’ve just lost their daughter in the attack.

When their eyes land on Hysan, he says, “I’m the chauffeur.”

I have to look to make sure it’s him speaking. There’s no attempt at magic in his voice, and sunlight is even missing from his features.

He meets my gaze and tries to muster some of his usual liveliness, but it seems forced. For the first time, charm fails him. “It’s late, and I should find lodging at the Libran embassy. I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady.”

“You can stay—”

“I shouldn’t.” The moment he leaves the lobby, he vanishes from sight. He must have slipped on his collar.

Mathias’s parents usher us toward their private quarters. As he fills them in on the highlights of our journey, my mind lingers on Hysan. I wonder who hugged him when he had nightmares as a child. Who waits for him when he comes home from his travels. Whose faces he sees when he thinks of his people.

As Cancrians, caring after our loved ones is our top priority. When Mom left, it caused ripples through our whole community. Broken families are rare on Cancer, runaway mothers unheard of.

But I had Stanton and Dad. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have no one.

“My parents are helping with the resettlement,” Mathias tells me, after they’ve gone to bed. I’m staying in their guestroom, and Mathias is going to sleep in the den, but for now, we’re both on the hammock in my room, talking.

“They’re negotiating with other Houses for temporary housing and food. My dad’s trying to establish an orphanage.”

An orphanage. Is that where Hysan was raised by the robot Miss Trii? Is that where generations of Cancrian and Virgo children will be raised after Ochus’s attacks?

“Rho?”

Mathias’s deep, calming voice brings me back to tonight. “Sorry.” I muster a small smile. “Life has been upside down for so long that things like parents and sleeping in a bedroom now feel alien.”

“I know what you mean,” he says, a dark lock falling into his eye. His Zodai-style haircut has grown out.

Amanta put our clothes in the refresher and lent us outfits to sleep in. I’m wearing one of Egon’s old shirts—it falls a little higher than my knees, and the neckline slings across my shoulder. Mathias is in a pair of sweats and no shirt. Every time he moves, the lines of his chest and arms readjust, and I can almost see the muscles working beneath his skin.

When the impulse to touch him grows louder than my thoughts, I ask, “Can I borrow your Wave?” Mine is still locked up, in case Ophiuchus can activate the tutorial Ephemeris.

I use Mathias’s Wave to try to reach Dad and Stanton, but I can’t get through. I know they’ve most likely lost theirs, but I keep hoping I’ll see them on the other end of the line. “I’ll ask the embassy to try locating them tomorrow,” says Mathias soothingly.

“Thanks.” I Wave Nishi’s Tracker next, but she doesn’t answer. No one is going to rescue me from being alone with Mathias, and Mathias’s muscles, and Mathias’s silence.

Earlier, we took turns showering, and it was amazing to feel real water on my skin and hair again. While I dried my curls, Mathias cleaned the gunk off his boots; and now, in spite of my protests, he’s doing the same with mine. He looks so serious, drawing his eyebrows together as he works bits of mud from the seams. The careful movements of his hands make me ache with guilt.

Before we got to Virgo, when he walked in on Hysan and me, he told me to remember who I am. Even though I’m still figuring it out, there are things I already know. Like I know I’m not a liar, and I don’t like secrets.

I shouldn’t have kept Hysan’s snooping from Mathias. Not because it was a big deal—I’m sure Hysan didn’t take anything—but because it’s not who I am. Mathias was right to refuse the veil collars from the start of our journey. We may have to fight, but we can’t lose sight of what we’re fighting for.

How are we saving Cancer if we lose our Cancrian values in the process?

“Rho, about your speech to the Plenum,” says Mathias, pausing to wipe the toe of my boot even though it’s already clean. “Maybe you shouldn’t mention Ophiuchus.”

Everything down to the thoughts in my head freezes. “What do you mean?”

He turns the boot over to inspect the heel. “The ambassadors will be hard to convince. I just think you might do better by sticking to facts you can prove, for now.”

The room darkens, as if someone’s dimmed the lights. “You don’t believe me.
Still
. After Virgo, after all you’ve seen.”

“Make your case about the Psy attack,” he says, his tone pleading. “You can prove that with the ship’s log, and Moira will back you. Why bring in a children’s story when you don’t have to? You know it makes people tune out.”

I can’t believe Mathias is asking me to lie. After everything he’s said about Hysan, now he’s telling me to be exactly like him. To lie to my people for their own good.

I remember the day of my swearing-in ceremony, when Nishi confronted me with her theory about Ophiuchus. I remember for a moment that I’d considered not mentioning Ochus to my Advisors so that I’d be taken seriously.

Then I remember Leyla’s words and Agatha’s blessing and Nishi’s commitment, and I know why I can’t lie: I would lose my way.

“Talk to me,” whispers Mathias. “You can’t just get upset when you disagree.”

I want to speak, but anger is once again building up in my chest.
Mathias still doesn’t trust me.
He can’t vouch for my account of the truth because he didn’t see all the things I saw. He didn’t see the warnings for Thebe or Virgo either, and I was proven right both times . . . but still he refuses to see that I’m right about Ophiuchus.

The anger clogs my throat with a powerless fury. There’s nothing I can do to prove I’m right to Mathias, short of opening my Ephemeris and calling Ochus here, right now.

“Rho.” Mathias sets down my boots and kneels on the floor in front of me. “I live to serve you. You
know
that. I’m just trying to help you make a stronger case. I want the Houses on our side.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking his hands and pulling him up. “I just need some sleep.”

“Of course, I’ll go,” he says, though he sounds a little sad. I feel the sadness, too—and I realize that under different circumstances, tonight could have gone another way.

“I’ll be in the den if you need anything.”

When Mathias leaves, I lie in the dark for a long time. It’s not his fault he doesn’t believe me. I know he’s trying. It just goes against every grain of his nature to take something this outlandish at face value. Until now, his skepticism bothered me, but his loyalty was enough.

It’s not anymore.

After everything that’s happened, convincing the Houses that Ophiuchus exists is all I have left. If I don’t make my case, the Zodiac is doomed. In the same way Mathias can’t find a way to believe me, I’m not sure I can find a way to forgive him.

Because no matter how much we care, or how hard we try, we remain on opposite sides.

• • •

The next morning, we leave the village and head to the hippodrome, where the Plenum is meeting.

The city is large, crowded, and disorganized. Yesterday’s bomb threat locked everything down and caused the ambassadors to stay overnight at the shelter, so we couldn’t meet with the Cancrian representative back at the embassy. We’re trying to meet her now.

When we arrive, Mathias’s parents have to report for their duties, but we agree to find them once we have an update. We spend an hour arguing with the clerks at the front desk who control the Plenum agenda, trying to convince them to give me a slot on today’s schedule. First, they insist there’s no way it can be adjusted because it’s jam-packed. Once we’ve persuaded them our business is urgent, they claim to need a series of permissions, and they take forever getting each one.

All around us, soldiers are walking through the crowd, inspecting every questionable person and item. Yesterday’s bomb scare left everyone rattled.

“Anything I can do, my lady?”

I whip around at the sound of Hysan’s voice, a grin on my face. He looks like the sunrise.

Immediately, he takes charge of the situation. Though he’s only seventeen, he’s got all the skills of a seasoned diplomat. While he haggles with the clerks, I check out the hippodrome: It’s a cube housing a giant, freestanding sphere of shining steel in its center. It looks like a small metal planet that’s been hidden in a concrete box.

We’re in the reception hall on the ground floor of the cube, and when I look up, I see the enormous underside of the sphere swelling overhead. Around it, a translucent pipe made of what looks like ruby glass spirals up as far as I can see, carrying people on a moving stairway up to the sphere’s many levels.