This sounds more like a suicide mission than a plan. I can’t help you if I’m dead.
Exactly. We’re both risking everything. This is my only plan—the master is as skilled in games of the Psy as I am. He clouds my eye.
Say I live long enough to meet the master. What’s the point of knowing his identity if he kills me before I can tell anyone?
Surely your friends will be tracking your location as soon as the Marad captures you. I believe you are familiar with the concept of bait—you have played the role before, to much acclaim.
His icy form glints like a blade, and in its reflection I see the wreckage from the armada: Firebird plummeting into the Piscene planet Icthys, Mathias pummeling the airlock door, begging me not to abandon him—
I hate you, I spit, my breathing growing shallow.
His body melts into a wintry wind, and as he gusts past me, I pluck meaning from his whispered breeze. Your anger is a searing flame . . . but you have not yet lost as much as you think.
I leave the White Room, darting down the hall to find Nishi. I tell her to get Deke, Hysan, and Aryll and bring them to my room. When we’re all gathered, I tell them about my visit to the Psy.
“Which is why I need a ship to take,” I say quickly, not giving them time to react to my story. “Hysan, do you have access to a Wasp?”
“Equinox is yours, my lady,” he says, his expression so somber it dampens his golden glow. “We can depart as soon as you wish.”
“I’m doing this alone,” I say, my voice firm. “I’m the bait; it has to be that way. You guys will be tracking me, and if anything goes wrong, you can—”
“Are you crazy? You’re not going alone. We’re either coming with you or you’re not going,” says Nishi flatly, her arms crossed and a small wrinkle in the center of her forehead.
The anger I felt for Ochus in the Ephemeris comes rushing back to me now. “Nish, do you realize how dangerous this trip is? I might have a chance of surviving because the master might find me useful politically, but you guys have no chance—”
“Rho, a Wasp won’t fly to coordinates that distant, and you don’t know how to pilot ’Nox or any other ship,” says Hysan, his manner more matter-of-fact than confrontational. “Not to mention the asteroid belt is dangerous and only an experienced pilot can navigate through it. You need help, whether you want it or not.”
I release a hard, exasperated breath. “Fine. Hysan, you and I—”
“No way!” roars Deke. “If he goes, we go. We’ve been your friends for longer.”
“You know you’re not going anywhere without me,” adds Aryll. Hysan clenches his jaw but doesn’t say anything.
I ignore the sinking feeling in my chest warning me this is a terrible idea. I know in my gut Ophiuchus is right—this is our best chance to intercept the master before he strikes again. There’s nothing about this plan that feels sturdy or reliable, but, like Ophiuchus, I don’t have another. The Marad already murdered so many people, and there’s no doubt they’ll keep slaughtering more. If I can possibly help put a stop to it, I have to try.
I just wish I knew how to keep my friends safe in the process.
“Let’s tell the others,” says Deke, and before I can say more, he and Nishi leave to corral the other Sagittarians into the creamy levlan sitting area. Hysan and I meet each other’s eyes.
“Do you mind giving me a moment with Aryll?” I ask him.
“Of course,” he says, almost too happily, and leaves.
“Let me guess: You don’t want me to come?” asks Aryll glumly. I survey his sunburned features before answering. He stares at me anxiously, scratching his peeling nose, and all I see is a sad little boy.
I look from Aryll’s electric-blue eye to the gray patch on the opposite side and sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want you around . . . but you know you can’t come on this trip.”
His features pull together, as if he’s tasted something sour, and he crosses his arms over his chest. He looks like he might pull a tantrum or maybe run away, and his pouty expression reminds me so much of a Cancrian child that it’s hard to remember we’re the same age.
“Why are there two records for your astrological fingerprint?”
Aryll dramatically drops his arms to his sides. “That’s what this is about? Your boyfriend doesn’t like me, so now you’re taking his side—”
“Aryll, cut it out,” I say, gripping his shoulders. “This is life and death—you can’t be a child anymore. You saved my brother’s life. Act like the hero you are.”
Rather than empower him, my words seem to hit a sore spot. He looks ashamed, and the reaction reminds me of the way Twain’s compliments affected me. There’s something uneasy in Aryll’s expression, something unknown . . . I see it now.
“Why do you have two records?” I repeat.
“Because this isn’t the first time I lost my family, Rho.”
I stare at him blankly, my grip on his shoulders loosening.
“When your brother was two,” he says softly, in a soothing tone that’s at odds with his uneasy expression, “he and your mom went to Naxos Island to help the victims of Hurricane Hebe. They found an infant in the wreckage.”
Aryll’s eye starts to sparkle overly bright. “Me.”
14
MY HANDS FALL FROM HIS shoulders. “I-I don’t understand—”
“Your mother became a legend on Naxos,” he says, still speaking in that gentle voice. “She never told us her name, so we started calling her the White Dove. She just showed up with the morning, like a miracle.”
I can hardly hear his words past the beating of my heart. Even though his revelation is too extreme for me to fathom, I still picture the scene as he describes it. Mom’s looks were already striking, but she must have been a vision on Naxos: pregnant, with a two-year-old by her side, emerging from the depths of the Cancer Sea like the day’s first ray of light.
“When you became Holy Mother, the newsfeeds ran all kinds of stories about you,” he goes on. “I watched from the settlement on Gemini. They showed an image of your parents on their wedding day, and after seeing hundreds of drawings of the White Dove, I recognized her. So when they ran pictures of your brother, I knew he was the person I owed my life to.”
I flash back to what Stanton told me, about how us meeting Aryll was written in the stars. “Does Stanton know?”
Aryll nods sheepishly. “I asked him to keep it a secret. . . . I honestly wasn’t sure until this moment that he actually had.”
“Stanton is true to his word.” I hear the defensiveness in my voice, even though I’m stung my brother didn’t trust me enough to share something so powerful. “Why didn’t you want me to know?”
Aryll looks uncomfortable again and starts running his bronze pendant along the black strap of levlan. “I thought . . . maybe you wouldn’t like me as much.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were just so nice to me. You were so grateful to me for saving Stanton—you kept thanking me and looking after me as if I was someone . . . admirable. I worried that if you learned the truth, you wouldn’t welcome me to your family so quickly. We’d already be . . . even.”
“Aryll!” I start laughing suddenly, surprising us both. “We don’t love you just because you saved Stanton! We love you because you’re our friend, and we care about you.” I pull him in for a hug, but he pushes me off, suddenly angry.
“You don’t get it—I’m not a hero.” His brow furrows down. “I was following Stanton around the settlement like a coward, too scared to tell him who I was, afraid he wouldn’t believe me or that he’d somehow let me down. Then the earthquakes started and I saw him outside—not running to shelter like the rest of us, but hanging out in the rockiest parts helping the people who hadn’t made it yet.
“I saw the danger he was putting himself in, and I�
��I didn’t want to help him. I wanted to go with the others. I wanted to be safe.”
Aryll turns fully away from me, and his back is a hard shell between us, keeping me out. “But you didn’t go,” I whisper. “Why?”
He sniffles but doesn’t spin back around. “I thought, What if he dies? And I had the chance to save him?” He turns around again, and half his face is striped with tears. “I’m not brave, or sent by the stars, like Stanton thinks. I only saved him because I’m selfish. Because otherwise I couldn’t live with myself.”
I wrap my arms around Aryll, ignoring his resistance, and we sink into a huge hug. “That’s exactly what makes you a hero,” I whisper into his ear. “You chose to do the right thing, even when it was your worst option.”
When we pull away, he pries open the pendant hanging around his neck. Inside is a single pure-white nar-clam pearl that could have only come from the Cancer Sea.
“I couldn’t save my first family, and I couldn’t save my second one . . . but I will save their memory. I’m doing this for Cancer.”
Aryll and I go into the main room to join the rest of the group, who are already gathered and waiting expectantly. Aryll plops down on a couch, and I remain standing in front of the Sagittarian sea of more than fifty faces. “Thanks for meeting, everyone. We have a new plan—”
A door bangs open deep inside the mansion, and more people wearing a range of new colors rush into the room. “Sorry we’re late!” calls Brynda, who is walking arm-in-arm with Rubi.
“Curiosity and Imagination do not make the fastest traveling companions,” chirps the diminutive Geminin Twin.
Behind them are Imogen and the Geminin students, Twain and the Virgos, Numen and the Librans, and Candela and the Cancrians. The Capricorns and Piscenes must be landing on Tierre soon. The sight of all the colors pouring in fills me with strength.
Everyone finds a place to sit, and the leaders from each House greet Hysan. He must have organized this. As they all settle down, the room gradually falls silent, and every face finds mine.
“Close your eyes,” I say.
The group complies with my command.
“Raise your hand if you think at least some people are still peeking.” Every hand shoots up.
“Look at your neighbor.” Hands lower to half-mast as people blink open their eyes and look around at each other.
“We want to unify our universe, and we don’t even trust the people we’re going to be fighting beside.”
Amid the murmur of reactions, I catch a glimpse of Hysan’s approving face, and it bolsters my confidence. “A few months ago, I saw a vision in my Ephemeris, and very few people believed me. So when Ophiuchus spoke to me again last week, I didn’t believe me. My distrust cost Capricorn countless lives that should have been spared. I’m sorry for that.”
I pause to look at them all, trying to connect with every pair of eyes the way I’ve seen Hysan do.
“We all want to bring the Zodiac together. But before we can make a change out there, we have to make one in here. We have to start trusting ourselves and each other. We can’t immediately jump to doubt and suspicion anymore.”
“Hear, hear,” says Rubi, nodding along. She takes Brynda’s hand, and Brynda takes Imogen’s hand, who takes Gyzer’s hand, and so forth, until the whole room is physically connected.
“I spoke with Ophiuchus again.” His name is like a glacial gust, and it snuffs out the warmth my words had just kindled. I try to ignore the uneasiness in the room as I go on to share the details of the expedition. “This is the only way to get close to the master,” I finish.
Ezra raises her hand but doesn’t wait to be called on to speak. “Who’s on your crew?”
Hysan, Nishi, Deke, and Aryll raise their hands. Hysan furrows his brow at me when he sees Aryll’s hand shoot up, but he doesn’t contradict me out loud.
“I want to go,” says Twain, shooting to his feet.
“Me too,” says Ezra, who stands up as well.
Imogen and Gyzer also rise, and soon there are people talking over each other all across the room until I can’t hear any of them.
“Shut your Maws!” shouts Deke. “Rho’s the leader, and this is her plan. The rest of you need to outfit your ships and get ready, because if the Marad kills us, you’ll get your turn.”
Everything goes silent and cold.
“Rubi, Brynda, Twain, and Numen, if it’s okay,” I say, “I’d like to ask you four to start crewing up ships to come after us.” They all nod, and immediately Gyzer, Ezra, and Imogen line up behind their Guardians to volunteer for their Houses.
“Candela,” I say, and she rises. “Please go to Tierre and get in touch with Mother Agatha to see how Cancer can help. Sage Ferez has been exceedingly kind to our House, and we need to stand by him and Capricorn.”
Candela nods, and as the rest of the Cancrians file out, she comes up to me and extends her hand for the traditional greeting. “I’m sorry if I spoke harshly before.”
“I’m glad you did,” I say, bumping fists with her. “I needed to hear it.”
“We’re going, too,” says Brynda, walking over with Rubi on her arm. The Geminin troop follows behind them. “We’ll be in touch once we’ve worked out logistics.”
Nodding, I catch sight of Twain and the Virgos out of the corner of my eye, huddled apart from everyone on the other side of the room. Even though Twain said his House was ready to open up and reach out to the others, change is a slow process. I know he’s hurt to be excluded from the trip, but I didn’t want to bring anyone with me in the first place. And besides, I wasn’t selecting Houses—I was choosing people.
I watch Hysan approach Twain and then follow his lead.
“I can help,” Twain’s telling Hysan as I get close.
“I know, and that’s why we need you here, ready to pursue us if we’re taken.”
“We want to be part of this mission, Hysan,” insists Twain. “We don’t want to be punished for having isolated ourselves in the past. Give us a chance.”
“That’s not what we’re doing,” I say, startling them both with my quiet arrival. “We need to keep the first group small so we don’t pose a threat to the Marad. We need our best fighters and flyers to come after us—we’re depending on you.”
Once the Virgos and Librans file out, the room is a lot quieter. I’m left parched, my head already pounding with pressure. I wish I could fly out alone. Agreeing to lead means accepting the possibility of more blood on my hands, and a week ago I couldn’t have handled it. But today, quitting means letting down Vecily and Ferez. And House Cancer, and the entire Zodiac—and that weighs even heavier.
I excuse myself from the group to send an encrypted message to Ambassador Sirna. She’s the only person in the Cancrian government I’m entrusting with the details of this expedition—when the time comes, she’ll fill in Agatha and the others on what we’re doing here. For now, though, I want to keep our circle small.
When I come back out to the common space, everyone is eating mushroom sushi.
“Rho!” Nishi calls out from across the crowded room as soon as she sees me. The whole place quiets down. “Should we burn some energy?”
Everyone sits up with excitement, and before I know what’s going on, Nishi declares, “If we’re dying tomorrow, then I say let’s make like Leos and live for a night!”
15
EVERYONE APPLAUDS IN ASSENT, AND soon the whole place is getting ready to go out and revel. My face has gone slack with disbelief, but Deke bounds over to me happily. “That’s why I love her!”
“She’s not serious—”
“Why not? Let people have some fun before the sea rises.” Before the sea rises is a Cancrian expression that means before things go bad. “It’ll feel good to celebrate after so much tension.”
The word celebrate triggers flashbacks to the last celebration
I attended, the night of Helios’s Halo. I flash not to the celebration itself, but to days later, when the new friends I made turned on me on the village streets, their love contorted to hate, their cheers twisted to jeers. The day the Zodiac abandoned me.
What if the Sagittarians lose their faith in me, too?
What if Nishi and Deke do?
“Rho, are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you think it’s a bad idea,” says Deke, his grin falling off. He slings a comforting arm around my shoulder and narrows his gaze on my face.
I shake my head dismissively. “No, no, you guys are right. We all deserve a night off.”
His roguish smile resurfaces. “Excellent.” Then he scans the room, and from the excitement on his face, I can tell he’s searching for Nishi in the crowd.
“I love seeing you this way,” I tell him. Most Cancrians love openly, their hearts on full display. But Deke and I have always had thicker shells than others. . . . I think that’s partly why we understand each other so well. I knew why my walls were up, but until recently, I’d only ever suspected Deke’s reasoning.
There’s no easy path to falling in love with someone from another House.
“Thanks. And what about you, Rho Rho?” His turquoise eyes glint with playful mysteriousness. “Now you know I would never intrude on your private life . . .”
“Oh, of course not.”
“. . . however, the other night, when I was on my way to the kitchen for some refreshments, I happened to notice a certain gentleman slipping inside a gentlelady’s room. . . .”
Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel Page 14
