Everyone murmurs, clearly impressed by his high reach. “That’s perfect,” says Nishi. “Rho, you should go with him and talk to Brynda since you’ve met her before. But first,” she says, gesturing to the rest of the room, “do you want to say anything—?”
“Well, we really should go now,” I say, as anxious about addressing the group as I am eager to be alone with Hysan. “The sooner we touch base with Guardian Brynda and find out what’s going on, the better.”
“Agreed,” says Deke, and a few others nod with him. Nishi’s the only one who looks disappointed with this plan. “Rho, you and Hysan should head out now so you can be back before dark. There’s been a curfew imposed until the threat’s over.”
Aryll looks at me like he might pull a Stanton and ask to come with us, so I head him off. “Stay and let Stanton know we got here safely? Nishi will help you get settled until I’m back. I won’t be long, I promise.”
Nishi walks over to Aryll while I join Hysan in the hall. I offer him my hand for the traditional greeting, and he kisses my skin softly. He doesn’t release my fingers as he leads me out the front door. “Wait—how are we getting there?” I ask, freezing in place for fear of his answer.
“We’re not going far—we’ll take one of the moving pathways.”
Since I don’t hear the word cannon, I follow him through the hedge. “What’s—?”
“This way.” Instead of stepping onto the wide pathway I walked down earlier, Hysan cuts to a small alley between Nishi’s mansion and the adjoining one, where the road is a river of polished stone. The street looks as if it’s squeezing itself through the suburb’s mismatched homes in a deliberate direction that leads toward the tall buildings on the horizon.
The moment we step onto the smooth stone, it starts to move. I grip Hysan’s hand tighter in surprise.
He grins at me. “High-powered Sagittarians who work together often also live near each other so they can install these moving pathways for a speedy commute. It appears Nishi’s parents are pretty powerful Stargazers. Does she ever talk to you about them?”
“Nishi’s better with questions than answers, especially when it comes to her family.” Since I don’t like talking about Mom either, that’s always worked out fine for us. It’s one thing Nishi and I have always agreed on—leaving the past in the past.
The day’s heavy sheet of clouds has broken up, and rays of sunlight pierce through the sky like spotlights. I don’t think Hysan likes revisiting his past much either, and I can see why. I sneak a glance up at him as we cross through a sunray, the light making his hair glimmer like gold. Meeting Miss Trii made his childhood seem less lonely, but it also made it sound less childlike. Hysan didn’t just grow up without parents—he had to build his own.
When our silence starts to grow noticeably long, I ask, “How’s Miss Trii?”
“Same as ever. Probably a day from landing on Aeolus. She ingested a few thousand files on Risers, so when she arrives she’ll be able to advise Lord Neith.” The pathway moves us forward at a surprisingly clipped pace. I’m secretly relieved for the extra security of our interlocked hands.
I wait for Hysan to offer more, or to ask me a question back, but he seems to have finally run out of conversation. His brow is faintly furrowed, and his irises have faded, the way they do when he’s deep in thought. Today it feels like we’re both keeping secrets.
“Rho,” he says gravely.
He shifts to face me, his fingers still laced with mine. “I know you need space after everything that’s happened, and I’ve been trying to give it to you. But this distance between us is starting to feel forced.”
I nod in agreement.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, but you don’t have to endure it alone. If you want to talk—about anything—I promise I’ll listen. Without judgment.” Even though he doesn’t say his name, I know he’s talking about Mathias. But the mere thought of him sucks me back inside my shell, and my fingers fidget involuntarily inside Hysan’s grasp.
He must feel my reaction, because he gently releases my hand. I’m too embarrassed to meet his gaze, so I silently stare into the colorful buildings ahead that are growing larger on our approach.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he pleads into my ear, his voice husky and soft.
My muscles clamp with discomfort. I don’t know how to ask Hysan what even I don’t understand: How can I still be so torn between him and Mathias when Mathias is gone forever?
“I’ll take a one-word answer, if necessary.” His tone is more insistent now. “Just don’t abandon me here. Please, Rho.”
Abandon tugs at something in my gut. It’s an action I associate with Mom, yet Hysan just used it about me. I wonder if I’ve been wrong about that word all my life.
Mom didn’t abandon us when she left home. She abandoned us long before that, by shutting us out. By never letting us get to know her.
“I’m sorry,” I say at last. Stanton already compared me to Mom once this week; that’s not a pathway I’m curious to explore.
“I do want to talk, it’s just—I don’t want to do any soul-searching right now, because it’s a mess in there. Besides, I can’t indulge in stuff like this right now, not with everything that’s going on.” As the words spill out, I hear the relief in my own voice at releasing them. “There are so many people you and I are responsible for. All I know is I have really strong feelings for you, and I’ve never met anyone like you, and I miss you when you’re not around, but I’m not over—”
Hysan presses his mouth to mine, stopping my sentence, thoughts, heartbeat.
The Abyssthe-like effect of his lips is addictive, and once we’ve started kissing I can’t even think of stopping. His hands hug my waist tightly, as if he’s afraid to lose me. The more I give myself over to the moment, the more it seems to be stripping us of our identities, removing layer after painful layer, until every obstacle standing between us has floated away.
I feel weightless and tingly and alive.
When we pull apart, Hysan whispers, “I understand this changes nothing for you, my lady.” Our hearts hammer in unison against our chests. “But I can’t apologize, because I’m not sorry. All I can do is promise not to kiss you again.”
With a flicker of his centaur smile, he adds, “Unless you ask me to.”
9
I’M STILL LIGHTHEADED FROM OUR kiss when the moving pathway comes to an end at the Capital’s government square, four starscrapers that look like they’re facing off against each other. Each represents one of the Sagittarian planets: Interron, Millium, Gryphon, and Centaurion. The Sagittarian Guardian acts as an advisor to the government—same as on Cancer—and her offices are in the Centaurion building.
When we walk inside the structure, I feel like I’ve returned to the Academy on Elara—only instead of deans and instructors, the students are in charge.
Dozens of young professionals in official Stargazer uniforms bustle across the lobby, their faces buried in red holographic screens. Everyone is so distracted that nobody notices us. Unlike the Lodestar suits on Cancer, these lavender uniforms are covered in pockets packed with basic essentials so that Sagittarians are ready to travel at all times.
Sagittarius’s leaders are the youngest in the Zodiac. After Stargazers complete their Zodai training, mostly in foreign Houses, they usually turn a curious eye toward home. Since they’ve already traveled extensively during school, they’re ready to test themselves other ways, primarily politically. Even though anyone can run for office, it’s rare for those over thirty to do so, since by that age a Sagittarian’s interest in home begins to wane again, and she starts itching to explore the corners of the universe she has yet to see.
Wallscreens and framed holograms of celebrities who’ve visited the Centaurion building decorate the lobby, and prepackaged foods cover every surface—snacks for on-the-go Sagittarians. Hysan taps m
e on the shoulder, and we step into an elevator crammed with more Stargazers. The lift stops on what feels like every floor, but by the time we get to the higher stories, the crowd surrounding us begins to thin. Eventually, it’s just Hysan and me left.
As always, he knows where he’s leading us. “Is there any world you haven’t visited?”
He grins. “The Thirteenth.”
Once we reach the top floor, we walk down a long hallway filled with doors, each one featuring a digital message tablet like the ones we had in our dorm-pods at the Academy. When we get to the last room, it’s already open.
Guardian Brynda sits at a round table with a dozen young diplomats arguing about strategy. I’m immediately reminded of my meetings with my Advisors on Oceon 6.
“Hysan!” Brynda springs to her feet, silencing the diplomats, who all at once turn to look at us. “’Gazers, our Knight has arrived!” she squeals, leaping up to hug him. Hysan twirls Brynda around, and when they pull away they’re both radiating so much happiness that suddenly I feel sullen and self-conscious.
My handful of reunions with Hysan have all been heavy-hearted and laden with mixed signals, but somehow Brynda is able to bring out his sunlight.
“I come bearing shields,” says Hysan, brandishing a stack of thin metal plates from his pocket. One of her Advisors accepts the devices while Brynda reaches up to squeeze Hysan’s dimples.
“That centaur smile . . . I keep telling you, there’s a Sagittarian somewhere in your bloodline.” Then she turns to survey me. “And, of course, Rho.”
“Hi,” I say as she comes closer, examining me like I’m an item up for sale. “Nice to see you again.”
“I’m sorry for the way things went down at the Plenum. It was wrong. I may think you’re crazy to resist Dimples here”—she winks at Hysan—“but I think you’re right about the Zodiac having to unite to defeat Ophiuchus. And whoever else is out there.”
“Thanks,” I say, liking her more with every frank word she speaks.
“Why don’t you two hang out for a while? You can listen in and take an update back to your troop.” She settles back into her seat at the head of the table, and Hysan pulls over two extra chairs. Looking at him, she says, “Your fleet of bullet-ships and these Psy shields are the best resources we’ve gotten from the Houses. We’ll activate the shields later tonight. First we need our Stargazers to finish consulting the Psy.”
“Tomorrow we’re cutting off all transportation in and out of Sagittarius,” says a spiky-haired Advisor, jumping in the moment Brynda pauses for breath. “Stargazers are orbiting the planet already, to alert us at the first sign of the Marad.”
“Why aren’t the other Houses doing more to help you?” I ask, unable to repress the question. I guess curiosity is contagious.
“No one’s seeing an oncoming attack,” says Brynda, shrugging. “Zodai on every House have been searching the stars. I spent all yesterday consulting the Psy myself, and I didn’t see any signs of trouble either.”
“They think the Marad may be faking,” says the spiky-haired Advisor. “No one wants to send their own Zodai away when their House might be the true target.”
A distant drumming grows louder, drowning out the sounds of voices, and I realize it’s my heartbeat. Ophiuchus was right—we won’t see the attack until the master decides on a target. We won’t have any way of knowing which House is getting hit.
What if he’s also right that it’ll be Capricorn?
“Maybe no one can see the attack because it will be perpetrated with Dark Matter,” suggests Hysan. “No one could foresee what happened to Cancer, Argyr, or Tethys either.” He looks at me and adds, “Almost no one.”
Every face at the table turns toward me, and I feel my cheeks heating with nerves. Hysan has a point. So either Ophiuchus is a turncoat—or he’s the one leading the charge.
And I’m the only one who can see him.
The only one who can judge.
“Still, we don’t know for certain that those were actual targeted strikes,” says the spiky-haired Advisor, her voice lower this time, as if she’s embarrassed to be so blunt before me. “Charon’s character may be questionable, but scientists haven’t ruled out his theory that those three disasters could have been triggered by cosmic rays from the Sufianic Clouds. Even Lord Neith’s proof of a Psynergy attack on his ship can’t be verified because it’s the first proof of its kind anyone has seen—there’s nothing to compare it to. Ambassador Sirna’s claims of a Psynergy attack on Thebe were equally nebulous—the influx of Psynergy that coincided with the explosion could’ve been a correlation and not the source. There’s simply no reliable evidence to prove Dark Matter did any of this.”
Hysan’s chest expands, but Brynda intervenes before he unleashes his outburst. “Whatever the stars are saying, we can’t risk the attack, so we’re taking it seriously. As Hysan just reminded us, human Sight isn’t star-proof. We’re stationing our Stargazers all over the Capital. We’ve already evacuated most of downtown, but we left your friends alone since they’re staying to fight.”
From her Tracker, she beams a diagram of the city, like the one Deke showed us earlier, only this one is blanketed with so many extra layers that it would take weeks to review them all. Brynda’s Advisors run us through their lead theories on how the Marad might strike, but they have such a surplus of schematics and projections that it takes hours to get through them all.
Their overwhelming curiosity makes it easy for Sagittarians to brainstorm possibilities and look at situations from multiple perspectives, so they seem to have thought through every single potential outcome. What they’re missing are the Arieans’ military grasp, and the Scorps’ advanced weaponry, and the Capricorns’ patience for planning, and the Taurians’ diligent teamwork, and so on. The Marad have those strengths because the army is made up of all the Houses. They’ll have the advantage.
“Rho, have you consulted the Psy since the armada?” asks Brynda. Her spiky-haired Advisor turns to me as though this is the point she’d been hoping Brynda would press. It reminds me that the last time the universe heard from me, I was too afraid of the boogeyman to open an Ephemeris or wear my Ring.
“I have.”
I watch the effect of these two short words ripple down the table, and to my bewilderment, everyone is suddenly alert and focused on me again.
“Have you seen anything in the stars about the Marad’s attack?” asks Brynda.
“I’ve seen a steep imbalance in our galaxy, and that a war is coming”—their downcast eyes tell me they’ve seen that, too—“but nothing clear on Sagittarius.”
I don’t bring up Ophiuchus because I have nothing real to offer her about him. Every time I interfere with governance, people pay with their lives. I won’t make that mistake again.
“I can look again tonight,” I offer.
“Thank you, Rho.”
When I attended these kinds of meetings before, my participation was met with condescension, impatience, and disinterest. I was more symbol than person. But in this room, I can feel the curious eyes watching me with wonder, as if they’re genuinely interested in my insights. And for a moment I catch a glimpse of what it would feel like to be vindicated in the eyes of the Zodiac—and I realize how much I want it.
“Lady Brynda, Rho and I should go before it gets darker out,” says Hysan, rising to his feet. “Do you need any assistance with the shields before we leave?”
A lanky male Advisor turns to him with questions, and Brynda walks me out. “Hysan does have exquisite taste,” she says when we get to the hallway. She wraps me in a hug and says into my ear, “You know he’s in love with you, right? That’s the only reason I haven’t hit on you myself.”
My chin drops, and my cheeks flare red. Thank Helios she can’t see my face.
“But in the future,” she says before pulling away, “if you should ever develop a
ny curiosities you’d like to satisfy . . .”
She doesn’t finish her thought; she merely winks as she walks over to Hysan, who’s just stepped out of her office. As he and I head into the elevator, my face is still afire with flattered flames.
By the time we make it to Nishi’s, it’s already curfew. The Sagittarians have been training all day, and Nishi and Deke gather them in the sitting area with its circle of creamy couches so Hysan and I can report what we learned from Brynda. Afterward, Deke brings out trays of the mushroom sushi he invented on Gemini, and a pleasant atmosphere falls over the house as we eat and chat and wonder.
Nishi and I are sharing a love seat in a corner of the room, catching each other up on our days. “How was being alone with Hysan?” she asks.
My eyes automatically find him at the other end of the room, flirting with a group of Sagittarian girls, Ezra and Gyzer glued to his sides. They glommed onto him during dinner and haven’t stopped peppering him with questions all night. Gyzer’s are mainly philosophical, and Ezra’s all practical—apparently, like Hysan, she likes to invent things.
“Hard,” I admit. “My guilt over Mathias had been a strong enough barrier until now. It’s kept me from having to dig too deep into my feelings for Hysan. But today . . . we . . .”
Nishi’s eyes gleam with impatient curiosity. “You did say he was an incredible kisser. . . .”
A smile breaks through my expression, pulled to the surface by the memory of that kiss. “But I still don’t know what I want, Nish,” I say, pushing back down on my feelings. “I mean, even if . . . we’re just so different. Before, we could have died at any moment—every aspect of life, every emotion, was so heightened that we grew close really, really fast—but we still know so little about each other.”
I look to him again, noticing how comfortable he seems, engaging and entertaining new people. Unlike Mathias, who would be sitting beside me all night, Hysan likes to work his way around a room.
Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel Page 9
