Zodiac

Home > Young Adult > Zodiac > Page 12
Zodiac Page 12

by Romina Russell


  I reel her in for a tight hug. “Nishi, I do need your help. I need you to spread the word.”

  Beneath her tangled hair, her amber eyes grow wide. “How far?”

  “Start with my Advisors. Keep trying to convince them, but don’t stop there. Tell everyone you can, in as many Houses as possible, because we’re all in danger. Try contacting members of 13—they won’t help your credibility with the rest of the Zodiac, but they’ll have more information than what we know, and maybe there’s something that can help us. Send me everything you find out.”

  Her eyes shine with tears. “Stay safe out there.”

  I nod. “Take care of Deke. And Kai.”

  Crius drums his fingers on the table. “If you insist on this mad journey, we’ll tell the people you’re raising disaster relief funds. We don’t want to incite mass panic.”

  Anxiety lines Agatha’s face. “Come back to us soon, Mother.”

  “I think you’re all insane.” Dr. Eusta’s hologram blinks and vanishes.

  Mathias strides to the door and swings it open for me. “I’ve commandeered the fastest ship on the dock. A visiting bullet-ship. It should be fueled and ready by the time we reach the hub.”

  “We?”

  He steps forward, until I’m swallowed by his shadow. “Your training isn’t finished. And besides, you’ll need a pilot.”

  This flight could be suicide. I can’t let Mathias come with me.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m doing this alone.”

  His indigo eyes flash. “There are no self-flying ships. Either I go with you, or you don’t go at all.”

  I bite my lip. There’s no other way.

  “Welcome aboard.”

  13

  WHEN I WAS EIGHT, Stanton used to give me rides on his sailboard. I remember the feel of the board pressing against my belly as I lay on

  it, sprawled between Stanton’s feet, while he danced around, manhandling the

  sail.

  One day when he wasn’t looking, I took the sailboard out by myself. I almost couldn’t lift the heavy sail, but as soon as the wind caught, I went zooming across the water. Salt stung my eyes, and I felt free and—for the first time in my short life—young.

  It was only when my foot slipped and the sail slapped down in the waves that I looked back toward home. Kalymnos was a thin black line on the distant horizon, and every second, the offshore wind was carrying me farther away. I was lucky people on a passing boat spotted me.

  The terror I felt that day on the water comes back to me now. Mathias and I are thousands of kilometers out from Cancer, so far away that the full shape of our Crab constellation is visible. I’ve never seen the real thing before. I’ve never been this far from home.

  We’re sealed in the nose of a bullet-shaped craft, shooting toward Gemini, our nearest neighbor. I just hope we get there in time.

  Now that we’re alone in the sky, I decide to activate the black opal. I need Ophiuchus to see I’ve left Cancer. If he’s going to attack me, better he do it here.

  My muscles are clenched so tight, they ache. I need to program an escape capsule for Mathias to ensure he’ll survive this—only I’ve never programmed anything in my life. I’ll just have to shove him into a capsule when Ophiuchus shows up and trust that Mathias can take it from there.

  The rounded front nose of the bullet-ship is capped in thick, diamond-hard glass, creating a fishbowl at the bow, and that’s where I’m floating in midair and peering into Space, like a damselfish confronting infinity. Behind me, Mathias is monitoring an arc of control screens at the helm. Now and then, he glances up, and our eyes meet. He looks pale and tired.

  I’m too nervous to be tired. My black opal is clipped to a peg so it can’t float free, and its ovoid hologram of starry light fills the ship’s glass nose with its radiant map of the universe. Just beyond the glass, the real universe cradles our ship.

  Like most spacecraft, this ship has handrails and safety belts for use in zero gravity, and Mathias has his legs hooked around the pilot’s seat while he works. Meanwhile, I float free on my back, stargazing.

  I deliberately slow my breaths and relax my muscles, trying to open my inner eye. The hologram shimmers over the black fabric of my space suit, dappling my body with stars. For the past hour, I’ve been focusing on the region of the Thirteenth House.

  “What do you see?” asks Mathias.

  I rub my eyes. “Nothing so far.”

  Mathias is programming the ship’s shield to defend us. Deep Space is full of hazards—pirates, foreign surveillance drones, cosmic radiation, stray junk, and debris. He says if we’re threatened, this bullet-ship will fly faster than a Capricorn can think—and it even has a cloaking veil. He was surprised he could hack the controls, considering the sophistication of the computer system.

  “We’re entering the Double,” says Mathias from the helm. “Have you planned what you’ll tell them?”

  “No clue.” I float upright and stretch my spine, staring out at real Space through the ship’s nose. “Apparently I’m no good at this.”

  “Actually, you can be pretty forceful sometimes.”

  Still facing away from him, I say, “I haven’t convinced you.”

  He doesn’t speak for so long that I worry I’ve offended him. “Rho.” At the sound of his low baritone, I turn to find him floating just a few feet behind me. “I listen to everything you say.”

  “That’s not it,” I say, shaking my head. I struggle with the words. I want to tell him I know he’s loyal and will always support me, but his allegiance only makes things worse. If sense of duty, and not trust, is what compels him to follow me, then I’m forcing his free will—and how is that better?

  But I can’t say any of it. Sometimes Mathias makes me so angry that I’ll revert into a toddler who can’t form sentences. I wonder if it’s because we stayed silent for so many years that now we don’t know how to talk to each other.

  “I need to keep looking, he could have attacked already,” I mumble, floating back to the Ephemeris. Our silence stretches longer, and soon Mathias is programming protections at the helm again, and I’m scanning the black opal’s imitation Space.

  The engines emit a quiet hum, and the piloting screens flicker soft blue light. The map revolves above me hypnotically, and after a while, I give up. Ochus isn’t coming.

  “My lady.”

  My head jerks up, and I nearly do a somersault in midair.

  There’s a guy with white-streaked blond hair and large green eyes coasting into our ship’s glass nose. His expensive suit bears the Libran coat of arms.

  “What . . . what are you doing here?” I ask, reaching out to touch Hysan Dax, to see if he’s real.When my hand is in front of him, he holds it and kisses my skin again. An Abyssthe-like rush shoots up my veins.

  “Happy to already be of service.”

  Mathias eases in front of me, shielding my body with his. He’s holding some kind of device in his palm, oval-shaped and silver bright. A weapon?

  “I scanned this ship,” he says in a clipped, military voice, pointing the device at Hysan. “How did you stow away?”

  “You misunderstand.” Hysan’s face is still pleasant, but his eyes harden when they land on Mathias. “You’re on my ship.”

  Mathias draws himself up, ramrod straight in midair. “Emergency requisition. You were notified to vacate.”

  Hysan’s centaur smile widens. “Equinox is a Libran emissary ship. You can’t confiscate diplomatic property.”

  “By galactic law, this ship is under emergency orders from the Cancrian Zodai Guard.” Mathias bites off his words in sharp, precise syllables. “Please get to your capsule, and we’ll launch you in any direction you choose.”

  “Or maybe I’d prefer to launch you.” The pleasantness in Hysan’s face flashes dangerously. A different expression rises to
the surface, a counterbalance to his charm.

  I’ve never seen Mathias lose his composure, but a muscle in his cheek is quivering. I use the handrail to pull myself between them. “Hysan, we’re sorry we took your ship. We’re on an emergency mission, and I hate that in our haste we’ve put you in danger. Please get in your capsule, and we’ll return your ship to you when we’re done.”

  I swallow, thinking of darker outcomes. “Or Cancer will send you an IOU.”

  Hysan bursts into laughter, and his return to good humor is so genuine that he seems to radiate warmth. “An IOU,” he repeats, his cheeks still dimpled and his eyes looking at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before. Like I’m someone who might amaze him.

  Then he turns to the screen on the wall nearest him, presses a few buttons, and suddenly my hand is heavy with gravity, and my feet hit the ground—as does Mathias’s Wave, my boots, and Mathias himself.

  “Simulation gravity,” says Hysan, shrugging. “Makes things easier.”

  Mathias stands and brushes himself off. He definitely looks impressed, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

  I cross my arms and stare at Hysan. “Where have you been this whole time? We’ve been flying for hours.”

  He punches in a few more keys on the screen. “I was asleep in my cabin when I awoke to find you stealing my personal transport.” He turns to Mathias. “You now have access to the full navigation controls, by the way.”

  Mathias spins around to the holographic control panel, and ten new screens pop up beside the five he was staring at, each one offering myriad more options. The screens have strange headings, like ’Nox’s Brain Powers, Recovery Requires Review, and Shielding from Shadows.

  While an entranced Mathias scrolls through the settings, I start to speak in a whisper so only Hysan can hear me. “This ship seems too advanced for Mathias to have broken through its security as quickly as he did.”

  Hysan’s green gaze grows so soft, I can almost feel its touch. “What are you saying, my lady?”

  A moment ago, I wanted his attention. But now that he’s right here—so close he takes up most of my view—I wish he’d look anywhere else. “I-I think you knew we were coming aboard, and you gave us permission.”

  In the corner of his right iris, I spy a small, star-shaped bloom of gold among the green. I’ve heard about this—it’s the Libran version of a Wave, called a Scan. Librans use it to scan new information into a special storage space in their minds. It’s housed in a small chip that’s implanted in their brains when they turn twelve. They can also use it to send each other messages or review stored information.

  “I told you I’d be at your service,” he whispers. “Always.”

  “Always is a long time.”

  “Wisely observed, my lady.”

  I laugh. “I guess you better start calling me Rho.”

  “We’re approaching planet Argyr now,” announces Mathias, his voice cold. I feel my cheeks go pink as I meet his disapproving stare.

  “Argyr?” asks Hysan. “That morass of debauchery? We can’t take Lady Rho—”

  Whatever Hysan says next is drowned by a low, thin wail coming from my Ephemeris. I whip around, and so does Hysan. A fiery, invisible pulse buzzes through my cells—just like the night of our concert on Elara—and the unnatural squeal of the black opal scrapes my eardrums.

  Mathias leaps over to catch me as I cover my head and crumple. “Rho, what’s wrong?”

  “Don’t you hear it?” I shout. The pain makes my jaw clench, and I can no longer speak. Beside me, Hysan is also clutching his head, wincing on the ground. He hears it, so why doesn’t Mathias?

  Suddenly our ship makes a violent turn and starts zigzagging back and forth, flinging us into the walls and each other. The accelerating engines howl, and when the whining dials back, Hysan and I lift our heads. He flies to the control screens. “Equinox, report!”

  When the ship’s brain starts blinking data, Mathias joins him at the helm, and I grab the black opal and head for the jettison tube. The Ephemeris flares through my fingers in bright searing rays, the Psynergy trying to break through from the other side. Its heat stings my hand.

  Hysan calls out, “What kind of attack is this? I see no missiles!”

  I keep pulling myself along the rail toward the jettison tube, but the ship’s veering so erratically, it’s hard to move. Suddenly the hot black opal slips from my hand, and the Ephemeris blossoms outward again to its full ovoid shape.

  From its center, Ochus’s inky eyes stare back at me.

  14

  COLORLESS, TRANSLUCENT, OCHUS SHIFTS FROM one grotesque form to another, billowing tall and thin like a wraith carved from ice, fracturing into particles and just as quickly reforming.

  I told you what I would do if you spoke of me.

  Phantom fingers whisper over my face. I try to push Ochus away, but my hands pass through his hazy form. How can he touch me when I can’t touch him?

  “Rho!” shouts Mathias. “What’s happening?”

  On some level, I’m aware Mathias has seized my body. I even hear the anxiety in his voice. And somewhere behind him, Hysan is barking commands to his ship.

  But I feel removed from all that. Ochus holds my attention. Murderer! I lash out, trying to punch him, but again my hands pass right through.

  His fingers cinch around my neck. Ah, such passion. Delightful. Do you feel my touch? Am I real?

  I twist and kick, but he holds me tight. The more I struggle, the more his fingers bruise my throat.

  You will not stop me. You’re out of time. He grips me harder, cutting off my air. Black spots start to crowd my vision. Desperately, I sweep my hands around, searching for the black opal.

  Hysan seems to guess my thought because I see his hazy form through the monster, and he puts the stone in my hand. As soon as I touch its hidden key, the Ephemeris shuts down, and the ice man vanishes.

  I cough and gag, then inhale long raking gulps of air. Mathias is holding me and massaging deeply into my skin, trying to help my circulation. Hysan rushes back to the controls.

  The ship is jerking through Space. We’re still under attack. “Mathias, I’m okay, go help him,” I gasp.

  “Right.”

  He joins Hysan at the controls while I drag myself toward the jettison tube to get rid of the black opal. Twice Ochus has used it to find me, and I never want to see that face again. As the ship careens forward, I open the tube.

  Hysan runs over to me. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to ditch this opal.”

  He seizes my wrist. “No, you don’t realize what it is.”

  The ship starts talking, and Hysan sails back to the helm. He speaks to Equinox in terse phrases, more like a seasoned Zodai Guard than a diplomatic envoy. “’Nox! Engage all shields. Run progress scans. Activate maximum protections, and switch to energy-conservation mode.”

  Before I can toss the stone, I hear the crackling whir of the shield generator, and every opening in the hull seals itself, including the jettison tube. I clutch the opal tight. We’re veiled, hidden from view, only a faint mirage in the night-black void. . . . No ordinary eyes can see us. But are we concealed from Ophiuchus?

  Tension closes like a fist in my chest. The ship stops rolling, and for a full minute, we hold steady on course. I can almost hear Equinox’s artificial brain ticking and waiting for the next attack. My hand cramps from gripping the rail as we wait through another taut five minutes.

  “Setting new course,” says Hysan, breaking the silence. We do an abrupt ninety-degree turn that hurls all three of us sideways, and the ship thrusts off at top speed, going anywhere but here.

  Mathias rushes over to me, concern written across his face. I’ve never seen him frightened like this. “Rho, I thought you were having a seizure.”

  “Ochus tried to strangle me.” No
w that it’s over, I realize I’m still weak from the encounter.

  Mathias turns even whiter. “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t see him?”

  “I didn’t see anyone.” He slides his thumb over my neck, but oddly, my throat doesn’t hurt anymore. “No bruises . . . do you feel pain?”

  “No,” I mutter, the thoughts in my head growing fuzzy from his touch. He’s never been so openly affectionate with me before.

  I’ve only gotten to known Mathias this last week, but when he’s around, my heart acts like this ship fighting off a Psy attack—its beat bounces all over my rib cage, and I can’t decipher the melody. Each time I try to figure out my feelings, I come up against the same wall: I admire him . . . I’m attracted to him . . . I like him . . . and wall.

  I can’t go deeper than that.

  Still gripping the black opal, I say, “Let’s not use this Ephemeris again.” Ophiuchus knows I’ve left Oceon 6 now. That’s all I needed.

  “I’m sorry,” whispers Mathias. “Sorry I didn’t protect you.”

  His apology haunts me long after he returns to the helm. He asks forgiveness for pain he didn’t cause, but he’s fine with undervaluing what’s in my head. He thinks failing to save me is worse than not trusting me. I’ve just found the wall: Mathias doesn’t see me as someone with insights to offer—he sees me as a little sister who can’t be left alone.

  While he and Hysan work together at the screens, I sit near the nose looking out, trying to think of more important things. Like how the Helios I’m going to earn the Houses’ trust when I can’t even earn my friends’.

  We change course repeatedly, but there are no more attacks. “Your veil worked remarkably well.” The sound of my voice is strange even to me after so much silence.

  “Of course it did,” says Hysan, his cocky smirk never far from reach. He slides his hand across the console, beaming. “Can this day get any better? ’Nox and I get shelled by invisible bombs, right after a beautiful pirate steals our heart.”

  “I’m flattered,” says Mathias. How can they joke when Ophiuchus is so strong, and we have no way of defeating him?

 

‹ Prev