Zodiac

by Romina Russell

  My eyes feel like they’re taking up my whole face. “You’re going to what?”

  “I’ll tell everyone about the attack on our ship, that way there’s no question about the Psy weapon. Then I’ll let them know I believe you, that Ophiuchus is real, and that House Libra stands with House Cancer.”

  I give a kind of flying leap and hug him, and his husky laugh tickles my ear. When we pull apart, I say, “Hysan, there’s going to be a lot of fallout. I mean with your people, after you reveal the truth. You said it the other day, you’ve broken your Guardian’s oath for me—I don’t want to ask you to do more.”

  “That’s just it, though. You don’t have to ask.” He sweeps a curl from my face, leaving a line of heat on my skin. “I know you don’t like secrecy, but it’s all I’ve ever known. I’ve never had a role model like you to teach me a better way.” Deep dimples form on his cheeks.

  Even though I never would have believed it possible, I’m smiling, too. “I owe you.”

  “No, Rho. I owe you.” His expression grows uncharacteristically serious, but his eyes retain all their warmth. “Ambassador Frey told me a mass of Psynergy probed four of our flying cities late last night. If you hadn’t warned me, I wouldn’t have known to shield them.”

  It takes me a moment to digest what he just said. “Then . . . we did do some good,” I sputter. “This—all of this hasn’t been for nothing.”

  Before I can clear my head, he muddles everything even more by leaning into me and laying two slow kisses on either of my cheeks. The brush of his lips against my skin makes my brain buzz.

  “Those cities are home to twelve million people,” he whispers, his mouth now near my ear. “I’m going to tell the whole world what you did. You’ll always have House Libra’s deepest gratitude.”

  “Rho!”

  I hear Mathias’s voice calling out close by, but he hasn’t found us yet.

  “She’s here!” shouts Hysan, leading me to Mathias, while my mind races at the speed of my pulse. Just as the three of us meet, a little girl approaches and pinches my arm. I turn to look and am struck by her otherworldly, childish beauty.

  She has skin as pale as the inside of a cantaloupe and curly copper hair, and she looks exactly like her thieving twin brother. “Rubidum?”

  “What have you done to Caasy?” she asks, her tunnel-like eyes expanding. “He’s so obsessed with that black opal of yours, he won’t even come out to play.”

  “Where is he?” I snap. “I need it back!”

  “Then the stars must have put you in my way.” She pulls out the stone from her pocket.

  I gasp, unsure if I should reach for it or toss it away. Ochus could use it.

  Hysan sees what’s happening, and he swipes it from her hand. “I brought something with me,” he says, pulling out a velvet pouch. “It’s veiled from the Psy,” he explains to me before slipping the stone inside.

  “Thanks,” I say, amazed, as he hands me the pouch. Then I look at Rubidum. “Why did he take it?”

  “He thought you were on a suicide mission,” she says, shrugging as though that were the most normal kind of mission to be on. “He knew what the stone was, and he was worried you didn’t, so he took it. To protect Cancer. And to play with it himself, of course.” She smiles brightly. “But mostly so it wouldn’t get lost with your bodies.”

  I’m not sure if I believe that’s what really happened, but either way, I’m happy Rubidum had the sense to bring the stone back to me. “Where is he?” I growl.

  She tilts her head and pouts. “Caasy wouldn’t come with me. I had to answer the summons on my own.”

  I blink. “Summons?”

  “Yes. Very inconvenient. I’ve been traveling for days. This carnival had better be worth it.” She nudges against me with a wry smile. “Your song has quite the following on Gemini. I didn’t know you were a drummer! We should start an intergalactic band—I hear Lord Neith has perfect pitch!”

  Sirna takes my elbow and hustles me forward. “It’s time.” Mathias falls in line behind us.

  As we pass the ambassadors’ throne-like seats, I see Morscerta whispering with his aides, and again I wonder if he’s a hologram. So I seize the moment to brush against his sleeve.

  The touch gives me a slight static shock, and he must feel it, too, because he turns with a scowl of indignation, which quickly transforms into a gracious smile. “My lady Rhoma.”

  “Sorry, sir. This place is quite crowded,” I say, hurrying on.

  He’s no hologram. His dark aura must be some sort of energy field. For personal protection or to mask his appearance, I don’t know.

  I glance around the audience, wondering how many other visitors are really who they seem.

  Again, I climb the short run of stairs and stand alone on the half-moon stage, facing my inquisitors. Only this time, the arena is filled to capacity. My heart’s beating shakes my whole frame, like it’s the hiccups.

  I bat the flying cameras away and try to clear my throat. Others have joined the ambassadors on the main floor, and more gilded seats have been added. One newcomer is radiant little Rubidum. Another new arrival leaves me thunderstruck: Lord Neith.

  Even sitting, his regal figure towers over everyone. He wears a golden court suit, and perched on his short white hair is a high-church miter bearing the Libran glyph, the Scales of Justice. His quartz-white eyes are sharp and amazingly human. Hysan sits directly behind him, and when I give him a questioning look, he merely quirks his eyebrows and shakes his head.

  Ambassador Charon is whispering to an old man wearing a massive holographic crown that looks incredibly real and is engraved with a Scorpion. In fact, all six newcomers wear headdresses adorned with royal glyphs. I see Sagittarius’s Archer, Leo’s Lion, Pisces’s Fish. Why are so many of the other Guardians at the Plenum today?

  They would have to have started their trips many days ago to cover such vast distances, and no one knew I would address the Plenum before yesterday. Right?

  The crowd quiets down, and someone’s standing to speak. It’s Morscerta. Next to him sits a dull-eyed boy of five or six, wearing a royal Aquarian crown twice the size of his head. Morscerta pats the child Guardian with fondness (though whether it’s genuine or for show, I can’t tell), then speaks in his strange, lilting voice.

  “Greetings, Honored Rhoma. May I ask why my young Supreme Guardian has been summoned into your presence?”

  A horrid dread makes me stagger . . . as suddenly, I realize why we’re all here.

  I catch hold of the lectern, and without thinking, I shout, “It’s an ambush!”

  The crowd erupts in angry hollering, and for the first time, I notice many of the seats are packed with wiry Scorps in dark glasses. They look surlier than everyone else, and suddenly I’m reminded of their conflict on Sagittarius.

  I look around to see who else is in the audience. None of the students are here, and I can’t spot a single one of the Cancrians I saw in the lobby. Someone has rigged this.

  I try to speak above the noise. “There are too many Guardians gathered in one place. We’re a sitting target. We have to separate ourselves and scatter!”

  Beside me, Charon lifts the speaking staff and bangs its long rod on the floor. Every voice falls silent, and he lets the tension gather. It’s clear he knows how to control a crowd. For such a secular House, the Scorps seem to be carrying on a lot like zealots these days.

  When he turns to me, he’s smiling, but his face looks more than ever like a rapier. “Guardian, you agreed to submit to more questioning. Are you afraid we’ll expose your hoax?”

  I pound the lectern, knocking my coronet askew. “You have to listen. This same thing happened on Cancer. Ophiuchus struck us when nearly all our Zodai Guards were together in one place.”

  “Enough fantasy, child.” Charon brandishes his staff. “Now. First question. Is it true
you left your House in the middle of the night without informing your Matriarchs?”

  I’m shaking with frustration. “Yes, but—”

  “A simple yes or no is sufficient.” Charon beams his greasy smile at the spectators, then rounds on me. “Is it true you and your lover stole a ship belonging to another House?”

  I stare, openmouthed and mortified, but Hysan shoots to his feet and says, “I offered the lady a ride. She’s no thief.”

  Charon wheels around and points his staff at Hysan. “Guards, escort this heckler from the Plenum.”

  “Wait a minute,” starts Hysan—but four soldiers materialize from the crowd and Taser him. My horrified scream is drowned by the hooting and clapping from the Scorps in the audience.

  “Stop!” I yell as the soldiers bundle Hysan’s limp body toward the exit. I look to Sirna for help, but her seat is empty. Mathias seems to have vanished, too, and Lord Neith sits so completely motionless, I wonder if he’s been switched off. Sirna was right—the ambassadors blindsided us. I led us right into a trap.

  Charon reads from a screen floating in front of him. “Admiral Crius informed your people that you were raising disaster relief funds. Did you raise one single coin to aid your House?”

  I bow my head. “No.”

  “Louder, please.”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Is it true,” says Charon, “that you crept into House Gemini masked in a cloaking veil?”

  “I can testify to that.” Rubidum hops to her feet. “Rho materialized in our playroom like a magician. Such a theatrical entrance. She’s a queen of melodrama.”

  After her brother’s treachery, I shouldn’t be surprised she’s contributing to my humiliation. I’d thought since she brought me the stone, that she’d had a change of heart. But I was wrong.

  Her Guardian tiara flashes golden reflections as she climbs up in her chair and stands to face the audience. “Rho isn’t malicious, fellow Excellencies. She’s simply blinded by anger over the death of her friends. Revenge is a tale without end, I warned her.”

  “A tale without end,” the audience echoes, as if this phrase explains everything.

  She resumes her seat and Charon gives her a bow. “Our thanks for your testimony, honored Rubidum.” He looks now to the row of seats where Hysan was just sitting. “And, Lord Neith, did this girl not use the same devious veil to invade your House as well?”

  After a slight delay, Neith lifts his chin. “Insufficient data.”

  I hold my breath, as my heart counts off the seconds of silence that follow Neith’s declaration. I have to do something—I can’t let them expose Hysan’s secret like this—

  “It appears the Guardian of Libra has been napping.” Charon turns to the audience with a mocking sneer.

  I hold my exhale until the crowd explodes in guffaws, and the threat is over.

  It takes a minute for Charon to settle everyone down, and I keep glancing up at the ceiling, imagining ways Ochus might attack us. The Dark Matter has set off explosions, burned the atmosphere with acidic rain . . . what else can he do with it?

  I search for Mathias again but find no sight of him.

  “Final question,” Charon booms, making me jump. “We know from eyewitnesses that you were visiting Empress Moira when her orbiting lab exploded. Is it true you fled in your stolen ship without offering a ride to a single man, woman, or child?”

  My feet go numb, followed by my legs, stomach, chest, until my whole being is submerged in an inability to feel. It’s like even my body is jumping ship and abandoning me. I let those people die. I brought Ophiuchus to them, and then I didn’t save a single soul.

  “It’s true.”

  Now the crowd noise grows to a clamor, and I feel tears welling up. Once more, Morscerta rises to his feet and takes the speaking staff. Beneath his courteous manner, he has a potency that commands attention, and the arenasphere falls so abruptly quiet, I hear myself breathing.

  “Guardians, Excellencies, this whimsical episode has clearly charmed us.” Again, the Aquarian’s silken voice startles me. “But on this last day of our session, let us settle down and turn to more serious topics before we close.”

  When the others nod assent, Morscerta speaks to me in a sweet, almost tender tone. “Rhoma Grace, thank you for your fascinating comments. You are dismissed.”

  He bangs the staff on the floor, and the subject is closed.

  30

  MY FRIENDS ARE ON THE STREET, waiting behind a barricade—Hysan, Sirna, and all three Thaises. Hysan’s still a little woozy from the Taser sting, and Egon is keeping him steady. I run up to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Never been Tasered before,” he says, smiling lazily. “It was electric.”

  We’ve all been banned from the Plenum, and soldiers are guarding the entrance to make sure we stay out. There’s no sign of the students who welcomed me before. I take off my coronet and give it back to Sirna. “Keep this safe.”

  She accepts it with a solemn nod, and while Mathias scans the nearby buildings with his field glasses, she whispers to her brooch to call the car.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Rho,” says Mathias, coming up beside me. “They tricked me with an urgent call from Agatha, then wouldn’t let me back in.”

  “It’s okay.” Ochus seems to be doing everything he can to isolate me.

  People from the audience are starting to come out. They’re all Scorps, and soon one of them spots me. “There she is.”

  Hysan draws a pistol, and Mathias steps in front of me as the Scorps yell insults. When they move toward us, Mathias fires a blue-white arc of electricity from his Taser.

  The men fall back a few steps, out of range, but they don’t leave. Hysan pulls my veil collar from his tunic and fastens it around my neck, activating it. And I disappear.

  The Scorps encircle us, and Mathias and Hysan fire their weapons to hold the crowd back, both guns set to stun. After two tense minutes, Sirna’s car arrives, and we jump in.

  “Guardian, our safe house might no longer be secure,” she says as soon as we’re all inside and I’ve taken off the collar. “We need to find a new place.”

  “She can stay at the Libran embassy,” offers Hysan. “They won’t think to look for her there.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Mathias turns quickly. “No. We don’t know who’s trustworthy—”

  “Rho can trust House Libra,” says Hysan, glaring.

  To my surprise, Sirna says, “The Guardian has made her choice. We each have our duty.”

  I study Sirna’s inscrutable face. Is she taking my side? Or hoping I’ll be eliminated from her list of nuisances?

  When we get to the village, we group together outside the Libran embassy. “I’ll make sure you all have access to visit Rho at any time,” says Hysan, his eyes on Mathias. “You’re welcome to spend the night here as well.”

  Mathias looks taken aback by Hysan’s generosity. But instead of answering him, he turns to me. “I’m going to help the Royal Guard while you get settled in. I’ll swing by soon.”

  Sirna gives me a quick bow, though I still can’t read her expression. “The Plenum has insulted our House. This will be rectified.”

  “I hope so,” I say.

  She and the Thaises wait to leave until Hysan and I step inside the Libran embassy. Given the degree of surveillance technology and armed Zodai surrounding the starscraper, I’m expecting to encounter a series of metal doors and biometric body scans inside. Instead, we walk into a creaky wooden courtroom.

  A white-wigged judge towers above us on a high bench, the Scales of Justice hanging over his head. Beside him is a rickety witness stand, and to the far left are twelve teenagers, squirming in squeaky seats and arching their necks in our direction.

  On Cancer, House-wide trials require one juror from each of the Twelve Ma
triarchies. In the Zodiac, galaxy-wide cases require one juror from each House. The teens in this jury box look like Acolytes from the Libran Academy.

  “State your case,” says the judge, his voice a low drawl.

  “Hysan Dax, your honor, diplomatic envoy, representing Holy Mother Rhoma Grace, Guardian of the Fourth House, Cancer. She is being pursued by unknown assailants and has come here seeking refuge. I would like to grant her ladyship our Libran sanctuary.”

  I stare at Hysan in bewilderment. He grins and wriggles his eyebrows back.

  “That sounds rather reasonable,” says the judge. He turns to the jury. “What say you?”

  The twelve teens—who have been staring at me with wide eyes—now turn to each other and form a circle, whispering in discussion. Almost immediately, a holographic question beams up from the jury box: “Why are assailants chasing the Cancrian Guardian?”

  “Because she speaks the truth about a monster the Zodiac does not want to believe in,” says Hysan, winking at me. “They cannot judge her fairly because they will not accept the possibility of her story’s veracity. As we Librans know, those who think only in straight lines cannot see around a curve.”

  A moment later, the teens disband and sit forward again. “Have you reached your verdict?” asks the judge, sounding bored.

  “We have, your honor,” says the Acolyte closest to the high bench. “We believe the Cancrian Guardian should be granted sanctuary until her peers can embrace the plausibility of a wider worldview. Yet we would also remind Lady Rho that when we open our minds too wide, we risk closing them.”

  “Very good.” The judge bangs his gavel. “Next!”

  Hysan leads me through a small side door, and we step into a brightly lit hallway. The whole time, I’m staring at him in wonder. “That’s your top-notch security? I’ll be safe because your junior jury will rule against my would-be assassins?”

  “If you saw all that security outside, would you really try to breach this place?” He laughs at the expression on my face. “If it makes you feel better, you were scanned the moment you walked through the door. All your information—name, astrological fingerprint, House, records, it was all processed. And the Knights outside are real Zodai.”