Black Moon

by Romina Russell

  “If you’re here, you’ve heard me give plenty of speeches already, so I’m going to cede the floor to someone far more eloquent than myself. But first, I would like to give special thanks to a few guests who—despite everything going on in the Zodiac—still made it a priority to come here tonight and support our cause. Chief Executive Purecell, Wandering Star Rhoma Grace, and, of course, our guest of honor, whose hospitality we’re testing tonight, Ambassador Crompton.”

  The room breaks into applause as Blaze steps down, and Ambassador Crompton climbs the stairs. When they meet, Blaze and Crompton trade the hand touch and then the Ambassador turns to face us.

  I hear Nishi and Blaze murmuring as he returns to our group, but I’m not paying attention. I just spotted Hysan in the crowd.

  He’s standing with Skarlet to the other side of the staircase, and she’s whispering something in his ear. My gaze lingers on how his hand hangs off her hip, and I take another sip of the sugary drink. Almost immediately, I start to feel a little lightheaded.

  “Thank you, Lionheart Blaze, for this generous invitation to address tomorrow’s leaders. I am honored to be honored by you.” Crompton bows in our direction, toward Blaze. “I’ve thought a lot about what possible wisdom I could impart to such a talented group. What can I offer you in return for awarding me this distinction?”

  My gaze keeps straying to Hysan. Each time I look over I feel like his eyes have just been on me. And yet he seems so completely immersed in whatever Skarlet’s telling him that it seems impossible his sight would have strayed, even for a second.

  “Assurance.”

  Ambassador Crompton’s voice booms through the space, bringing my attention back to him. “There is nothing humans fear more than change, and that is why, from here on out, you are going to face profound opposition. The best thing I can try to give you before you set off is assurance that what you’re doing is worth doing. That you are not living your life in vain.”

  The whole ballroom has gone silent, and I’m happy to see even Skarlet has stopped talking.

  “Helios forgive me, for I am an Aquarian!” Laughter breaks out across the room at Crompton’s cry. “And as a Philosopher I must beg you to allow me this moment to philosophize.”

  His pink eyes shine brightly, reflecting the room’s colors back to us. “Why are we crawling one year and walking the next? Why is it that one birthday we’re asking our parents for toys, but the next we want an Ephemeris? Why does a shirt that fits us today not fit us tomorrow? Because we are ever-changing organisms. We were not meant to be static. Change is the universe’s only currency, and that is why it is futile to stand against progress, for evolution will always prevail.”

  Clapping breaks out, and Crompton waits for it to die down completely before continuing. “So why do we fear our own growth?”

  He takes a long pause as he pans his gaze across the room, like a teacher waiting for a brave student to raise her hand. “Because in order to change, we must relinquish control; we must momentarily lose ourselves. And in those moments, anything is possible—the best of us or the worst.

  “When we’re younger, we leap across this divide with ease, eager to see what the next year brings. Yet as we grow older, we begin to fear the pain of the changing process, and we worry more and more about the person we will become on the other side. So we claw onto time, trying to keep it from ticking onward and moving us forward—and in doing this, we stunt our personal evolution.”

  The place is so silent that he could be whispering and we would still hear him.

  “Somewhere along the way,” he continues, “our misguided hubris hitched human pride to humanity’s progress. That is why you face such steep opposition. Because if you succeed in designing a stronger, better, fairer system, you will be the founding parents of the new world. The old thinkers will be displaced as flawed philosophers from an earlier era, caged within the confines of the past, falling further from relevance.

  “So I want to use this moment to assure you that your work here is important. What you’re doing reminds us that while the past must be remembered, it cannot come at the cost of the future. Change keeps our species alive, and that is why we must shed our fear and allow ourselves—and our solar system—to grow with the times. Our eyes are in the front of our heads because what’s coming ahead means more than what we’re leaving behind. Where we’re going means more than where we came from. And as we say on Aquarius, Only when we let go of today will we be living in tomorrow.”

  I set my now empty glass on the floor and join the others in a round of applause. It’s a while before our clapping dies down, and Crompton looks less comfortable accepting our praise than he did speaking. Eventually, he holds his hands up to signal us to stop.

  My vision has gone blurry from drinking, and when I look at Hysan, I can no longer make out his features.

  “And speaking of tomorrow,” says Crompton, “I have been asked to welcome to the stage the Tomorrow Party’s new co-captain, who will help Lionheart Blaze lead you into a hopeful new morning—Nishiko Sai of House Sagittarius.”

  I turn to Nishi with wide eyes, and she grins at me, her amber irises filled with light. “I found out earlier but wanted to keep it a surprise!” she squeals.

  Wrapping her in a huge hug I say into her ear, “I’m so proud of you, Nish.”

  Blaze offers her his arm and escorts Nishi up the steps to where Crompton is standing. They trade the hand touch, and then he descends, leaving Nishi with the room’s attention. Watching her up there, my heart bursts with pride. After all she’s endured these past few months, Nishi has found herself and her place in the Zodiac.

  “I’m going to keep this short,” she says, her voice carrying across the room. “First, I need to thank Ambassador Crompton on behalf of everyone present for that incredibly inspiring speech.” The room claps in solidarity, but tamps down quickly. “I also want to thank the incomparable Blaze Jansun for bringing us together for such a magnificent cause. And on a personal note, for trusting me to help bring his revolutionary vision to life.”

  People applaud again, and I’m awed by the graceful ease with which Nishi handles having hundreds of eyes on her. There’s something comforting about the scene in front of me; it feels good being in the background again while Nishi takes center stage.

  “Finally, I want to thank the person who means the most to me and whose courage inspired my own.” I feel Nishi’s gaze cut across to me, and, astounded, I stare back at her semi-blurry face. “Wandering Star, thank you for reminding us that we are not powerless, that we are the future. You sacrificed so much when you set out to warn the Houses about Ophiuchus, and you risked your life when you went out in that Wasp to bait him, and then you put yourself on the line again when you faced the Marad.

  “By refusing to compromise your beliefs, you proved to everyone that we all have access to a powerful weapon, one that can change worlds with a single sound: our voice. By standing up, and speaking out, and refusing to go quietly, you showed us how change gets done.”

  I feel everyone’s eyes on me as they clap, and my cheeks heat with color.

  “Our system only exists because we subscribe to it; and that means we have the power to change it. The people making the rules today won’t be the ones inhabiting our solar system tomorrow—but we will. Don’t we deserve a say in what kind of worlds we want to inherit?”

  As we break into more applause, a flicker of white-blond hair catches my eye. An Aquarian woman who seems familiar somehow is a few feet away, but I can’t see her face. I keep looking between her and Nishi, waiting for the chance to glimpse her features.

  When at last she turns to talk to the person next to her, I hazily trace high ivory cheekbones and brilliantly blue eyes.

  Everything goes still inside me.

  Mom.

  18

  MY BODY IS AN ECHO chamber for my heart, and all I hear are
its thudding beats.

  I start moving closer to the woman, my skin clammy and mind blank, and as her features sharpen, I realize it’s not my mother.

  The shock wears off slowly, and as the warmth of my relief lifts the cold from my skin, I decide I’m done drinking for the night.

  The orchestra starts playing again, and Nishi descends the stairs to another round of applause. She’s immediately bombarded by people who want to offer their congratulations, and soon they pull me into the celebration. We trade the hand touch with what feels like hundreds of people, and I scan their faces for Stanton or Mathias, but they don’t show up. This kind of ball isn’t a very Cancrian scene, so they’re probably in a corner somewhere, hanging with a smaller crowd.

  Once Nishi and I extricate ourselves from her admirers, I draw her to a quieter area to give her another hug. “You were extraordinary!”

  Her cinnamon cheeks are rosy, her eyes bright. A silver tray of clear drinks floats past us, and she swipes a couple of glasses. “To us!” We clink them together, and she takes a huge swig.

  “I think one drink was enough for me,” I say without tasting mine. “How can you have so much of this stuff when the alcohol is so strong?”

  “There’s no alcohol in it,” she says, after polishing hers off. “It’s called a Spacey Spritzer. It’s spiked with Abyssthe.”

  “Abyssthe?”

  “It’s only a few drops. Since it comes with no hangover, Aquarians prefer it to alcohol. It’s only supposed to make you feel a little floaty, nothing more.”

  “Then why is it making me . . . see things?”

  Nishi’s up-do is starting to fall, and flyaway strands of hair fold over her forehead. “It affects people differently based on their tolerance. Since the best seers naturally draw more Psynergy to themselves, they feel it more, so—yeah, actually, you’re right. You’ve definitely had enough.”

  She reaches for my drink, only I’m no longer sure I want to give it up. Maybe my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Maybe when I thought I saw Mom, I was Seeing an omen.

  “Nishi!” Imogen runs up to us and gives Nishi a huge hug. “You were perfect!” A string of prospective Party members are with her, and while they introduce themselves to Nishi, I draw away to consider the glass in my hands.

  I haven’t had any luck finding signs of Mom in the Ephemeris, and I have no other leads. So why not try a little more of this Spritzer and see what I can See? Besides, it’s not like anyone needs me right now. Nishi has found her place, Mathias and Pandora have found each other, and Stan is once more nowhere to be found.

  I sneak up beside Nishi and say into her ear, “I’m going to look around, see if I can find Stan. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Wave my Tracker if I’m not here,” she says, and I nod, not bothering to point out that I didn’t bring my Wave with me.

  Sipping the fizzy, fruity Spritzer, I edge along the room’s outer perimeter where it’s less crowded. Though obviously old, this room somehow seems newer than the rest of the castle, more pristine. Maybe it’s just been used less often.

  I cross under the static-charged staircase to the other side of the marble ballroom where fewer people are gathered. My sight grows shakier the more I drink, as if the molecules of oxygen around me have transformed into erratic Psynergy.

  Spying a whirl of blond hair ahead, I speed up to see a blurry woman in a white dress turning a corner.

  I chase after her until I reach the far end of the room, but there’s nowhere to turn. She disappeared into the wall.

  Heart racing, I step back to survey the gold-and-silver-streaked marble, and I spy a faint, shadowy archway. But when I touch it, I only feel cold stone.

  I look around me to make sure no one is watching, then I trace the designs in the stone with my finger, trying to find a hidden key. Soon I start to feel a strange pull toward whatever lies on the other side of the wall, and my body hums with curiosity to get through it.

  Instinct seems to be whispering instructions to me, and, remembering that Abyssthe is strongest when first taken, I swallow what’s left of my drink and concentrate on the archway in the wall.

  My Ring finger buzzes as I pull in Psynergy to Center myself, and slowly the shaded archway begins to darken.

  I touch it again.

  Immediately I’m transported to something that looks like the shadow world of the Collective Conscious, only I don’t see the Psynergy signatures of other Zodai. I can’t see or feel my body, and panic spreads through my thoughts as I sense someone’s Eye on me, like I’m being examined and my identity is being confirmed.

  Suddenly the castle reappears around me, only now I’m inside a cold sandstone hall, and the music from the party sounds faint. This must be some kind of advanced security measure, like the drop with Engle on Scorpio.

  My knees are too shaky to risk moving, so I stand still as I cast my gaze along the tall empty space. I must be on the other side of the marble.

  “Untara warned you this morning not to do this.”

  My heart shoots into my mouth at the sound of a man’s voice. It seems to be coming from right behind me, only when I spin around, no one’s there.

  “You already knew she was upset about the Tomorrow Party coming to the castle. She meant for our House’s endorsement to be symbolic, not practical.”

  I scan the dim, dusty chamber again, and this time I notice a spiral staircase at the far end of the place where a long, thin beam of light spills down the steps. For a moment I keep still, torn between spying and going back to the ballroom.

  “She didn’t want some silly youthful movement staining our ancient walls, and—”

  “As Ambassador it is my right to recognize new leaders and movements.”

  At the sound of Crompton’s voice, I make my choice. I pad quickly toward the stairs and peek up at the spiraling steps.

  Maybe it’s the Spacey Spritzer, or maybe Skiff was right and I’m not just Cancrian anymore. But I’m tired of being taken by surprise by the people I want to trust. If Crompton is duplicitous, I need to know.

  “Please, sir,” I hear the other man say. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

  “I’m grateful for your concern,” says Crompton, his voice warm yet firm, “but engaging in new conversations and exploring different viewpoints is the soul of Philosophy. Since when does House Aquarius not welcome new ways of thinking and leading? What happened to our revered Guardian Aquarius’s immortal words, Man needs a brain to live, but a mind to be alive?”

  I climb up the stairs as slowly as possible. Thankfully, the dust in the space muffles the sound of my heels.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you on philosophical grounds,” says the other man, his words taking on a pleading tone. “But Untara isn’t happy. You knew the Wandering Star’s presence hadn’t gone unnoticed, nor the fact that you agreed to be this event’s guest of honor. And yet, despite her warnings, you went through with it!”

  The first door I come across is ajar, and the room beyond it is dark, so I continue climbing up. “They’re kids, Crompton. They’re only going to be a distraction at a time when the Zodiac’s focus should be on stopping this Riser army and finding the person in charge of them. This group will be painting a target on their heads when they go public with this nonsense, and mark my words, the Marad will come after them for daring to bring hope to the Houses. That’s how terrorism works.”

  I freeze midway to the next floor. The door is open just a slit, and the line of light guiding my way is coming from in there, as are the two men’s voices.

  “So you would sacrifice our galaxy’s hope for the sake of a sense of safety?” asks Crompton, somehow sounding both patient and frustrated. “Even when that safety is only an illusion? I understand and even share your fear, Pollus, but if we let that feeling rule us, then we have already let the terrorists win. The truth is that hope
is the most powerful weapon in our arsenal . . . and recent events prove that change is necessary to achieve it.”

  “What I heard you saying tonight didn’t sound like change,” says the other man—Pollus—cautiously. “It sounded like revolution.”

  There’s a long silence, and then Crompton says, “That is your fear speaking again, Pollus, and it does you a disservice. The system isn’t perfect, and it doesn’t help us to pretend otherwise. Do you know what Rhoma Grace told me yesterday? She never agreed to the declaration of Peace. In fact, she believes the Marad is still very much a threat. And yet when I suggested to the Plenum that we invite her to give testimony before making Peace official, I was told there was no need because she’d already signed on. Does this sound like a system worth preserving?”

  Pollus sighs loudly, and I hear him pacing the floor. “Do you realize what’s happening? They made you the face for the Peace declaration, just as they made you the face for crowning that girl as the Wandering Star. They’re using you just as they used her. You’re the newest member and, frankly, you’re too trusting. And now they’re setting you up so that when everything backfires, you can become their scapegoat!”

  “If you’re right, that’s all the more reason to support change!”

  “I do!” says the other man, raising his voice to Crompton for the first time. “But I’m trying to look out for you, too. We both know Untara feels threatened by you.”

  “But why?” asks Crompton, sounding like he’s finally found a question he can’t answer. “Have you asked yourself that?”

  “She’s jealous of your talent, and she worries if you challenge her to a duel in the astral plane, you might actually win, making you the rightful Supreme Advisor to the Guardian. She’s afraid you’re the better seer.”

  “Or,” says Crompton, his voice so low I have to strain my ears, “maybe there’s just something she’s afraid I’ll See.”