Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel

by Russell, Romina

  My mouth curves at the sight of the last place that felt like home. Hysan must be near the Seagoat constellation, because the transmission signal is so clear that the time lag is barely perceptible.

  “Rho Grace. A pleasure.”

  My smile wilts at the sight of a buxom, blond-haired bombshell at the control helm. I’m so taken aback by her presence I don’t immediately say anything.

  She watches me mysteriously, undisturbed by my sudden appearance or muteness. Her immaculate beauty has an ageless quality—she could just as easily be a teenager as a forty-year-old—and her stare is admirably inscrutable.

  “Don’t think I packed enough pistols,” says Hysan, striding into the nose from the back of the ship. He’s barefoot and wearing only boxers, baring a more cut upper body than the one I knew a month ago.

  “Rho!”

  He freezes upon spotting me, his demeanor uncharacteristically frazzled. “I didn’t expect—it’s lovely to see you, my lady.” He pulls on the gray coveralls, which are dangling over a chair. “How may I be of service?”

  I realize my arms are crossed and unfold them. “I was just—I didn’t mean to intrude.” I look again at the blonde, who’s so stationary she might not be breathing. She’s still watching me.

  “You’re not—you never are.” His voice softens on the second half of the sentence. “Miss Trii and I were just going over supplies.”

  “Miss Trii?” I stare at her in astounded disbelief. “You’re—I mean—oh, nice to meet you!”

  “Yes, I’m an android,” she says, her voice and expression exceptionally pleasant. She seems to have completed her examination of me, and I can’t help wondering how much of his face-reading talent Hysan programmed into her.

  “Would you like to sit a moment?” she asks, turning to him. “Your heart is beating unusually fast.”

  “I’m fine, Miss Trii,” he says quickly, his ears going pink. “Actually, if I could have a private moment with Lady Rho—”

  “Of course, but first, she has so many questions for me. They’re bubbling up all over her face. It would be rude to leave before answering some.” She flashes me a conspiratorial smile full of Libran charm. Turns out she’s even more clairvoyant than he is.

  “Hysan’s parents were Knights in the service of Lord Vaz’s Royal Guard, and they died on duty the very year Hysan was born.” I look at him when she says this, but he’s busied himself with one of the ship’s holographic screens, averting his face from my view.

  “His father was a very clever inventor.” Miss Trii moves closer to regain my attention, and I focus back on her. “He built me while his wife was pregnant, to have someone to watch over Hysan during their working hours, programming me with the lessons he wanted to pass on to his son. You see, Librans write their first will at age twelve and are legally obligated to review and update it every year. In theirs, Knights Horace and Helen Dax stipulated I would continue bringing up Hysan if they should pass.”

  Her quartz irises have a crystallized texture, and they reflect back a million fractured versions of myself. “He was lucky to have you,” I say.

  “I’ve always been the lucky one.” Her expression fills with so much warmth that I can’t believe she isn’t human. “As I began imparting his father’s lessons, Hysan quickly surpassed him. By then I was becoming an outdated model, so Hysan used me to test out his theories and ideas, making me one of the most advanced robots of our time.” She looks at him like a proud parent, and even though his face is still turned away, his ears are pink again.

  “When he was eleven, he and Lord Vaz finished building Lord Neith, and I asked Hysan to fashion me a human form from Kartex, like his. Not only did he do an exceptional job, but he even let me design myself.” She does a slow twirl to show off her enviable figure. “Nice, right?”

  “Stunning,” I say, resisting the sudden urge to laugh at her human-like pride.

  “I now have a question for you,” she tells me, and though her manner is still amiable, there’s something dangerous in her sharp expression. Even Hysan comes over to join us, looking more alert. “If you’re so afraid to give in to your feelings for my Hysan, why do you keep reaching out to him?”

  “Miss Trii, please,” says Hysan, his voice gentle but firm, “I would really like to speak with Rho alone.”

  “Hysan Dax, I’m the android who raised you; show some respect,” she chides him. “I have every right to get to know the woman you—”

  Something flashes from Hysan’s Scan, and Miss Trii stops speaking mid-sentence, her face relaxing into a placid expression.

  “Sorry about that,” he says, avoiding my eyes. “It’s what happens when you give your robots too much freedom. First it was designing her own body, then she wanted access to her programming, now she’s making her own personality adjustments, overriding my behavioral modifications, and—”

  “She’s amazing,” I say, my focus now completely on the handsome golden face before me. Hysan’s close enough that if he were really here my skin would sizzle from the proximity. “You’re amazing.”

  This time he accepts the compliment in true Libran fashion, his dimpled centaur smile resurfacing. “She was recharging on the ship when we landed on Capricorn; otherwise, I would have introduced you. I’m sending her back to Libra as soon as we land on Sagittarius. Is that what you’re calling about?”

  I nod. “I wanted to see what you were doing.”

  “I changed headings mid-flight the moment I heard the Marad’s message. Guardian Brynda is a friend of mine.”

  “I’m meeting Nishi and Deke. It sounds like they’ve tapped into a network of people who want to fight. If we can get organized, and if we can get support from Guardian Brynda, maybe we can actually help.”

  “I’ve spoken with Nishi and am meeting her as well.” His gold-green eyes gleam. “Would you like a lift?”

  “No, we’ll just hitch a ride with the Capricorns. There are shuttles to and from Sagittarius here daily.” It’s a mutually beneficial relationship: Since Sagittarians are curious about everything, they’re in and out of the Zodiax constantly, and since Capricorns love amassing wisdom, they’re always intrigued by the new gadgets and ideas the Sagittarians bring with them.

  My gaze veers away from Hysan, toward the ship’s familiar surroundings, and I bite down on my inner lip. I suddenly see Mathias everywhere. By the helm, the teaching crown, the curving glass windows. When I meet Hysan’s eyes again, he’s watching me.

  “I like talking to you this way,” he says, though he sounds sad. “It feels honest.”

  “Honest how?”

  He trails a finger across my cheek, and though I can’t sense his caress, I feel its memory. “I can look, but I can’t touch.”

  In the morning, Aryll and I manage to secure passage on a ship to Sagittarius that leaves the next day. In the meantime, he’s helping out at the settlement with Stanton, and I’m in my room, consulting my tutorial Ephemeris.

  The moment I’m Centered, I hear the screeching sound and feel the distortion of Psynergy that means Ophiuchus is approaching.

  This time, I manage to endure the high-pitched shrill the way Moira did, by receding into the deepest recess of my mind and steadying myself in the Psy. Then I’m ready to face him.

  As Ophiuchus takes his full icy form, the stars around me start spinning wildly, transforming into the slipstream where we met before. We’re in the astral plane.

  The Thirteenth Guardian towers over me, a giant carved from ice with black-hole eyes, his hulking body at its fullest strength. At last you start to understand, says the gravelly voice. You are beginning to believe in your power.

  I don’t waste energy speaking—there’s nothing left to be said between us. Instead, I prepare to attack him by anchoring myself in my Center, tunneling deep into my soul, until I’m absorbing waves of Psynergy from people all across the Zo
diac. The force of energy strengthens my presence and makes me powerful in the Psy—only this time, it’s a jittery and unstable kind of power.

  Psynergy is how a Zodai taps into her Center: The more we access, the more Centered we become. But the more Psynergy I’m allowing in, the less steady I feel. When I’ve reached capacity, I swing my arm and unleash a shaky blow into Ochus’s stomach—the highest part of him I can reach.

  He’s not expecting my punch, so the impact blasts him backward, creating a massive crater in his midsection and causing him to stumble. My fist sears with pain, but I press past it. When he regains his balance, he bellows out a deafening laugh that burns my ears.

  I am not your enemy, child. Do not repeat your previous mistakes by letting your emotions overrule you. Today, we fight on the same side.

  You and I will never be on the same side, I snarl, breathing heavily from my exertion.

  Ochus’s torso repairs itself, and he shrinks down to human size, so that our heights somewhat match. I’ve never faced him as an equal before, and the gesture is the only reason I listen to him.

  You can feel the instability of the Zodiac in the very Psynergy feeding your presence here, he says, making even his voice sound human-sized. This is my master’s plan at work—he is using the Marad as he used me. He seeks to stir up enough chaos for the Houses to destroy each other. I no longer believe he has any plan to restore the glory of the Thirteenth House.

  Then stop him, I spit back. What do you want with me?

  I have tried and failed. I believe if we combine forces, we can take him down together.

  My laugh is mirthless and cold, and I cut it off when I realize who I sound like. Us work together? You ruined my life, murderer. You killed my father. You killed Mathias. I hate you—understand? I will never, ever work with you.

  Ophiuchus reassumes his immortal shape, growing into a mountainous form. His icy body chills the air, making my every breath frigid and cutting. I clench my fists to mask my trembling.

  Even the lowest scum in the universe deserves redemption for his mistakes, he thunders in a voice that could belong to Helios. There is good and bad in the Zodiac—the point is not to eradicate one but to find the balance of both that yields the greatest harmony.

  Is this a lesson from your Talisman? My words are low and whispery, the icy air stabbing me every time I draw breath. Where did it end up? If the Zodiac needs to unite, what better way to teach us than the Talisman that stored the power of Unity?

  Even though the physical change hasn’t come over him yet, Ophiuchus seems to grow emotionally older and wearier at the mention of his stone, and the temperature rises a few degrees. The Talisman was lost when I suffered this state, half-alive and half-dead, trapped in the spirit world with no agency of my own.

  You don’t have a body?

  I exist only in the Psy. My master said he would return me to the physical realm, but I now believe that too was a lie. You must help me either to live again or die completely. After all, my enemy’s enemy is my ally, and that is you.

  I cross my arms, his weakening state filling me with strength. Why would I believe you?

  Because you are me now.

  My body chills again as his voice grows quieter than I’ve ever heard it, his breath a snaky stream of vapor. After everything you did, the Zodiac still refuses to believe in me, but they revile you. You have dethroned me as the new boogeyman. Now that you know disgrace, you know the way people can twist the truth and manipulate stories to further their agenda.

  He cocks his head curiously, a gesture so human that for a moment I glimpse the mortal behind the immortal. The universe has cast you as a liar without a trial, Rhoma Grace . . . can you so quickly do the same to me?

  The anger tastes like bile in my mouth. How dare you compare me to you? You’re a murderer.

  I will prove to you my new allegiance by betraying the old. The Marad will not strike Sagittarius, as they claim. They will select their true target on the day of the attack, so that no Zodai can foresee it—but my Sight tells me it will be Capricorn.

  His eyes grow larger and deeper, twin black holes that seem to be sucking my soul within their whirlpools.

  The question is, Acolyte, will you trust me in time to save this world?

  7

  WHEN OPHIUCHUS DISAPPEARS, I STAND by my half-packed bag, wondering where to go. The first thing I do is try reaching Hysan on his Ring, but he must have his Psy shield up, because I can’t get through. I can’t hail him by hologram either. He’s veiled and shielded; ’Nox must be flying through a dangerous pocket of Space.

  Ophiuchus destroyed Cancer—and nearly did away with Virgo and Gemini, too—so why in the Zodiac would he warn me about Sagittarius?

  Unless he’s really turned on his master.

  I sensed their battle in the Ephemeris just the other night. And even now, Ochus did seem different . . . more restrained. The violence had vanished from his voice, replaced by something else, something far too familiar to me. Defeat.

  And yet he’s played me this way before. I’ve always done everything he wanted, since the first time we met when he threatened my life if I spoke of his existence. That very day, he summoned all the Guardians to the Plenum so they could witness my humiliation firsthand. He knew I would defy him, so he and his master set me up to be a pawn for their schemes. I had a part in their plan. My whole journey was a diversion.

  Ophiuchus knows Cancrians, knows our greatest power—our unparalleled ability to love and forgive—can easily become our greatest flaw. Is that what he’s playing on now?

  What if he’s telling the truth?

  When I leave my room, I’m surprised to find Aryll flipping through newsfeeds on the couch. “Where’s Stanton?”

  “Surface. I wasn’t able to help much”—he holds up his hand, which boasts a bulky bandage over a new injury—“so he told me to hang out. I was checking the latest.”

  I slump beside him on the cushions. He smells like the earthy moisturizing lotion provided by the hotel.

  After being here a few weeks, Stanton’s and my sun-kissed tans are back, but Aryll’s skin has turned as red as his hair, and his nose looks like it might start peeling. He pulls away from the developing story on Sagittarius to stare at me. “Are you okay? You have a funny look on your face.”

  I shake my head, blowing out a hard breath. “I-I just saw Ophiuchus,” I blurt out quickly.

  Aryll’s face goes slack with horrified shock, his electric stare setting my hair on end. “He was—here?”

  “No, in the astral plane. He . . . he said the Marad’s true plan isn’t to attack Sagittarius but Capricorn.”

  “Capricorn?” Aryll furrows his brow thoughtfully, rubbing the bronze locket that hangs off a black strap of levlan around his neck. It’s his only possession, and I’ve never seen him take it off. “Rho . . . promise you won’t go off on me,” he says tentatively, not meeting my gaze, “if I say something you don’t like?”

  “Yeah. What is it?”

  “It’s just . . .” He’s still holding his locket and avoiding my eyes. “Even after everything that’s happened, you never actually proved Ophiuchus’s existence.”

  I suck in a gasp, a million angry thoughts jostling for first place in my mouth—

  “Just . . . don’t yell, okay?” he says quickly, raising both hands like a shield.

  Guilt clamps my mouth shut.

  “How did the master trick you last time?” he asks.

  I frown. “He used a feint—while we went after Ophiuchus, his army came after us.”

  “Exactly. Look, I believe you saw Ochus. But can I throw out another possibility?”

  He waits for my approval, and, grudgingly, I give a quick, sharp nod. “If Ochus has no body and can do things in the Psy no human can . . . and we’ve just seen proof that the Marad has technology that outmatches ou
rs . . . don’t you think Ophiuchus could be an—an invention?”

  “What?” I blurt, caught between a laugh and an eye roll. “How? That’s—”

  “Just listen,” says Aryll, swinging his legs onto the couch and facing me, his expression openly eager. “The master is obviously a master at manipulating the Psy, right? So what if he invented Ophiuchus to distract you? People mess with their Psynergy signatures all the time—think of this as a more advanced form of identity fraud.”

  “Why Ophiuchus?” I ask, freeing my curls from a sloppy bun so I can wrestle them into a tighter one. “Why not just a white-masked scary person like those soldiers?”

  From the way he can’t wait to speak, I can tell he’s already considered the why. “We know two important things about the master,” says Aryll, holding up two fingers. “One, he likes to play games, and two, he’s a student of history. Just as he studied the Trinary Axis for the Marad’s attacks, he could have learned about Ochus by studying Zodiac lore and adopting him as a dramatic disguise. Can you think of a better way to distract our whole universe than revealing a hidden House?”

  I’m shaking my head, like I still want to argue with him, even though the words don’t come. Aryll’s unconventional thinking reminds me of the way the Libran jury arrives at decisions: He’s considering the problem from every possibility. I never realized he was so bright. It makes me wish he’d speak up more often.

  I can’t produce an argument against Aryll, so he goes on. “He sent you zooming through the Zodiac with an urgent warning he knew no one else would believe, something sensational enough to capture the attention of every House—doesn’t that sound exactly like what he’s trying to do now? So that you’ll direct everyone’s attention this way . . . while he goes the other?”

  Even though my emotions are writhing and whirring, wanting to be heard, I push them down and follow Aryll’s logic. This is the kind of thoughtful analysis Mathias would have urged me to do before bursting into action.