Zodiac (28 page)

Watching us, I realized how vulnerable we are, how disconnected, and I saw something I could do to help. So I just . . . acted.

Even though I’m Guardian, I’ve never considered myself a leader. I thought that in order to lead, you first had to have a plan. But sometimes leading is about keeping people together when there is no plan. When there’s only the will to survive in the face of invincible evil.

Hysan reels me in for a tight hug. “Rho Grace, Guardian of the Zodiac,” he says, surreptitiously kissing my cheek. “You’re a star.”

Mathias reaches for me next, but just then Rubidum grabs my hand and whirls me around to face the audience again.
“Trust in Guardian Rho!”
they chant.

She raises a fistful of beads and shouts above the noise. “I nominate Rho Grace to lead our armada!”

The audience roars its approval. Alarmed, I pull away and shake my head in refusal, even wave my arms.

But nobody wants to see it. They’ve already decided.

“Let us elect Mother Rho by acclamation!” joins in Neith.

I turn and see Mathias behind me. “Mathias, make this stop. I can’t lead an
armada
. I barely even know what that is!”

He offers me his arm, and I hold on. “They’re panicked,” he says. “They’re not thinking.” His bicep hardens under my hand.

“Whose idea was this?” I ask Hysan when he comes over.

“Don’t you see what’s happened? You’ve given everyone hope, Rho,” he says, his face shining with light. “You’ve been Guardian of Cancer three weeks, and you’ve done what no one’s been able to do in centuries—you brought the Zodiac together.”

He wraps my hand in both of his, and on my other side, Mathias tenses. “I’ve known since I first saw you at your swearing-in, and I’ve felt it these past few weeks in your presence, watching you with leaders from every House: Your light blazes too bright to be contained in one constellation.”

His eyes have never been bigger or greener. “You’re destined to be a guiding star not of one world, but all of them. If not you,
who
?”

Albor Echus stands and calls for order. The ambassadors must have finished their discussion. “The Plenum has voted. We appoint Holy Mother Rhoma Grace of the Fourth House to lead our united fleet.”

The faces in the audience shine starry bright. My breathing races, and I feel dizzy. I steal a sideways look at Mathias. He and I are the only people onstage who aren’t smiling.

I stare at the audience again. I was willing to give my life to stop Ochus. I can’t hold back now.

“I accept.”

AN ARMADA, IT TURNS OUT,
is a fleet of warships.

I have to learn these things quickly because the strategizing begins right after the vote, when I’m swept off the stage by Ambassador Morscerta and whisked into a meeting with all the Guardians and ambassadors. They debate for eleven straight hours, dividing responsibilities among the Houses and nominating Zodai to lead the various charges. Just like my meetings on Oceon 6, I mainly spend the time listening and answering questions.

The next few days are a blur of these gatherings, sometimes with everyone at the hippodrome, sometimes with the Lodestars at the embassy, sometimes with other ambassadors at the village. Sirna moved me into one of the bungalows, so I only see Mathias and Hysan for small snippets of time—a quick bite here, a joint meeting there—but mostly, we’re each working on our own tasks. Hysan’s outsourced the production of Psy shields to a factory on Aries, and he’s now pulling on his vast network of people he’s met in his travels across the solar system to raise resources fast. Meanwhile, Mathias is training our Lodestars for combat.

Early on it becomes clear that my function as the armada’s leader is to be more mascot than mastermind—and I’m not complaining. I’m relieved there are better-suited people at the helm, but I wish the twelve Admirals would invite me to their military meetings about the operation. Every time I ask to attend, they insist I focus on the metaphysical battle—my part—and leave the physical one to them. I know they’re probably right, but I just want to be sure we’re ready.

Ochus must know we have a plan, and he’s already proven he’s an extraordinary Seer. Even if we’re veiled from him, I want to know we’ve thought through every possibility.

• • •

The night before we launch our attack, the ambassadors plan a universal celebration in the village. It’s a revival of the Helios’s Halo festival.

The festival is an old Zodiac tradition from before the Trinary Axis. The Houses used to come together to celebrate the Zodiac’s top star, Helios, on the one day a year her flames were predicted to burn brightest. The celebration took place at night, under a ghostly sun: The day’s light would linger long after sunset, forming a phantom ring where it once shone, an effect dubbed Helios’s Halo.

No one’s seen Helios’s Halo since the final festival. Even though it’s obvious why the Guardians stopped celebrating it, no one knows why the actual effect stopped happening, not even Capricorn’s scientists. Piscenes believe Helios is punishing us for our divisiveness. While getting ready for the festival, I ask Sirna what she thinks.

She pauses painting my lips, letting her sea-blue gaze drift, and says, “I think it’s because we don’t look up as much as we used to.” I ponder what that means while she and Amanta finish styling me to their liking.

By the time they deem me ready, the festival has been under way for an hour. I walk outdoors and see people and holo-ghosts packing the village streets, gathering in front of every embassy, sitting at round tables, dancing, talking, eating, and mingling. The inter-market in the main square has been converted into a free food zone, and the line of people waiting winds around the whole village.

I keep to the bungalow’s shadow and cast my gaze across the black-walled enclosure, trying to spot Hysan or Mathias in the crowd. I hope they have an easier time recognizing me than I do.

Amanta styled my hair in an updo, leaving just a few curls free to frame my face, and Sirna added the silver Cancrian coronet. The dress she picked out for me is a sapphire sheet of satin that curves around my shape like cascading water. It falls a few inches above my knees, and the back dips down to my waist, revealing the slope of my spine.

“Trust in Guardian Rho” by Drowning Diamonds begins blasting from a holographic screen, and I see some university students petting Leo’s lions start cheering and belting the lyrics. Watching the video of my band performing on campus makes me think of the Lunar Quadract. I can almost remember taking Abyssthe, setting up my drums, goofing around with my friends . . . but the memory is nebulous, like it’s underwater, along with everything else I’ve lost.

The Rho I was then feels inaccessible to me now.

I hear soft steps behind me and turn to see Mathias. His eyes travel up to mine, and I realize he was studying the slip of my back. Awkwardness reddens his cheeks, then spreads to mine, too.

“You look like home,” he says, offering me his arm.

When he’s close, I catch a hint of sweet-smelling liqueur in his breath. The sight of his fresh trimmed hair and royal blue suit takes me back to the moment before my swearing-in ceremony, when my first crush finally noticed me. It’s hard to recall the innocence of that feeling when we’re no longer those same people. “So do you,” I say, looping my arm through his.

This is the first non-war-related moment we’ve had, and my body’s already reminding me that I haven’t told him about Hysan yet. Thoughts of battle kept my guilt at bay before, but now the old squirm in my stomach has resurfaced.

We cross the plank to join the rest of the festival, and I peer out at the faces, searching for Hysan’s. The crowd is in the high hundreds, and bodies continue to pour out from every embassy. I’ve never heard of the Houses coming together like this in recent history.

“If the stars had shown me this picture a week ago,” I say, “I wouldn’t have believed them.”

Mathias furrows his brow as we orbit the crowd. “On the other hand, if they showed you an immortal mythical monster bent on the Zodiac’s destruction . . .”

I laugh, and after the past few days, the reflex feels foreign. “Did you just make a
joke
?” I ask in awe. He cracks a toothy smile that fills his whole face with light, and now I come to a complete stop. “Lodestar Mathias Thais, is that a
smile
?”

His shoulders curve in a little—his stiff stance noticeably looser tonight—and his sweet-scented breath sweeps my skin. “Catch me on a week when we’re not about to be mass murdered, and I might surprise you.”

His indigo eyes are bright and closer to me than usual. Being friendly with Mathias should feel soothing, not unsettling—yet somehow my feelings for him seemed clearer when we were arguing.

We get jostled by the growing crowd, and Mathias steers me clear of their foot-stomping and elbow-jabbing. The village keeps filling up with more people, and just like when the Cancer Sea’s tide rises, we’re forced to seek higher ground. Wherever we go, I scan the surrounding faces for Hysan.

The Piscene embassy is on a hill, so we climb up to join the sparser groups gathering on its front lawn. The embassy—a crystal temple with curving corners—is lit up and teeming with people inside. Through its semitransparent walls, their bodies look like shadows.

Now that we have a relative bit of privacy, Mathias gently releases my arm and turns to face me. “Could we . . . talk?”

There’s a quiver in his question that’s an off-key note in his musical voice. The sound sings to something deep within me, and I realize whatever’s weighing down Mathias, I can’t hear it until I’ve come clean about Hysan. I don’t want to lie to him, not ever again, and especially not about this.

“I think we should,” I say quickly, before I can think the words over too much. “But I need to tell you something first.”

A Piscene Acolyte in a floor-length silver veil approaches us with a tray of hot pink drinks. She doesn’t even look at me after she’s seen Mathias. “Seaberry liqueur?” she asks him.

He shakes his head. Instead of leaving, she sidles closer and jingles a pocket within her veil. It makes a tinkling noise like glass bottles touching. “Or perhaps you’d prefer some Kappa-Opioid . . . ?”

“Kappa
what
?” I ask, adding volume to my voice to prove my presence.

“Not that junk again, Pisces!”

A brusque Taurian Acolyte in an olive green Academy uniform storms over and yanks on the girl’s arm. Hot pink liqueur dribbles down the side of the flute glasses on her tray. “Do you even realize who you’re offering drugs to, Spacey?”

“It’s
Lacey
,” snaps the Piscene girl, wrenching her arm free. “I’ve told you so ten times, Taurian! And it’s
not
a drug, it’s a pathway to the stars—”

“Will you two cut it out already,” says an Aquarian Acolyte holding an empty tray. She looks at Mathias and me, on the verge of apologizing for her companions—and then squeals instead.

“Mother Rho!”

Before I can react, she snaps a picture of me with her Philosopher’s Stone. “I’m Mallie. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Nice to meet—”

“
Oh, my Helios
!” cries out Lacey, cutting me off and coming closer to inspect my features. “It’s
you
! I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”

“I
told
you,” says the Taurian, rolling her eyes. She turns to me, and in an all-business tone that matches her competitive stare, she says, “Hello Holy Mother, I’m Fraxel Finnigan, of House Taurus.” She checks out Mathias next. “And
you
are?”

“Blessed Empyrean, are all Taurians as rude as you?” asks Lacey. She sets down her tray of pink drinks, then faces Fraxel, hands planted on her hips.

“We’re not rude, we’re efficient. Maybe if you people pulled your head down from Space and actually took an interest in the tangible world around you—”

“What was it like facing him?”

Mallie’s large, glassy eyes reflect the Cancrian glyph of my crown. Even though her voice is soft, her question is loud enough to quiet the other girls. All three faces turn to me.

“Terrifying,” I admit, stealing a look at Mathias, who’s heard me tell this story more times than anyone. He seems distracted, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the talk we almost had. “It’s like fighting a solid person who can wield the power of wind, ice, and fire, and you have no way to defend yourself . . . because you can’t touch him back.”

Mallie holds her hand to her chest, turning the Philosopher’s Stone between her fingers. The device is encased in a lead pendant that hangs from a silver chain around her neck, and its design varies according to clan. Mallie’s pendant is shaped like an owl. “How did you survive?” she whispers.

“Luck,” I admit, thinking back to each time I faced Ochus. If I hadn’t been able to close the black opal or rip off the Ring—or if Ochus hadn’t decided destroying Virgo took priority over me—I wouldn’t be here right now. The knowledge fills me with a sense of doom, the kind I get in the Ephemeris when I sense an opposition in the stars. I have
no idea
how to survive this.

“How did it feel . . . knowing you were going to die?”

The Aquarian and Piscene stare at Fraxel. Even she seems surprised to hear herself ask a question more appropriate to the spiritual and philosophical realms.

“Lonely,” I admit. “Not in the moment I was facing him—when you’re fighting for your life, adrenaline numbs a lot of those thoughts.” I feel the full force of Mathias’s stare on me now, but I don’t look back. “It’s not even death that’s lonely. . . . I think it’s surviving. Because afterwards, you realize you did die—the person you were before is gone—and while everyone around you is pressing onward, you’re learning to become a person all over again.”

A couple of drunken Capricorns—one tall, one short—bump into Lacey, and she stumbles on her long veil, knocking over the glasses. “I
knew
that was going to happen!” gripes Fraxel, ducking to help Lacey clean up. Then, in a more muted tone, she says, “I need to check in at my embassy, so I can return your tray if you want.”

“Thanks,” says Lacey. She holds up her palm to press with Fraxel’s just as the Taurian sticks out her arm for a handshake.

“On Taurus, we shake,” says Fraxel, squeezing Lacey’s hand in demonstration.

“We press palms,” says Lacey, showing her how.

A strange understanding seems to pass between them, and with a jolt, I realize that in ordinary times, they never would have had this chance to meet. It saddens me to think of the price we’ve paid for this moment—the Cancrians, Virgos, and Geminin who had to give their lives for the Zodiac to come together.

As Fraxel wends her way to the Taurian embassy, ripples in the crowd push us farther up the hill. The four of us search the street below for the source of the commotion: The Aerians have erected a ring for holographic wrestling.

A couple of Aerian fighters step inside in red uniforms, wearing protective gear and helmets. The first man’s body flickers, like he’s transforming from human to hologram, and then I gasp as his image morphs and expands into a ten-foot tall snake-like creature with rippling arms and huge fangs. The second man becomes a lizard monster with talons and a lethal stinger on his tail. Both are imaginary versions of Ophiuchus.

The referee whistles, and the match begins. The avatars are projected by the men’s helmets and contained within the ring, so if either fighter steps out, they automatically revert to looking human. The lizard monster stabs at the snake creature with his stinger. The snake slithers away just in time and surprises the lizard by striking back immediately and sinking its fangs in its tail.

A wave of cheers drowns the lizard’s cry of agony, and then there’s another round of roars as the lizard retaliates by digging its talons into the snake’s arm.

“Look up!” shouts Lacey.

I turn my head to the night sky, and Rubidum and a team of Dreamcasters—Geminin Zodai—are standing on the peak of the Aquarian embassy, high above the village. They’re using their Tattoos to draw delicately detailed designs in the stars.

Shining above me now, in stunning clarity, are Cancer’s four moons. Mathias and I catch each other’s eye but don’t speak. Then the picture changes to Virgo’s needle city, to Gemini’s capital, to Helios. . . .

I’ve never seen anything like this before—the Houses of the Zodiac partying together, showing off for each other, sharing their tricks. For the first time, I see what a united Zodiac could look like—and I finally understand the full scope of what I’m fighting for.

This is about more than stopping Ophiuchus and bringing him to justice. It’s about our universe, and the kind of place we want it to be. We become our best selves when we’re around the other Houses: Nishi has made me more inquisitive of the world around me, and Hysan has helped me find my confidence. There’s a reason Helios binds our Houses together—we’re meant to learn from each other, not about each other. To speak to each other, not of each other. We’re not Cancrians and Librans and Arieans and Scorps and Geminin and Piscenes and Capricorns and Sagittarians and Virgos and Leos and Aquarians and Taurians—we’re the
Zodiac
.