Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel (7 page)

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 ours . . . 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.

“You’re right,” I say, sighing. “I can’t let him keep using me—whatever he is, he’s the opposite of me.”

We’re silent a while, Aryll probably still thinking through his theory, while I’m wondering what I’d do—what
Stanton
would do—if Aryll didn’t make it back.

I steal a glance at him, and he’s still fingering his bronze locket. I recognize that kind of attachment to an object; without having to ask, I can tell it’s Aryll’s last memory of home.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whisper.

He doesn’t immediately answer, his gaze still adrift. “Not really,” he admits.

My voice flush with relief, I say, “Great! Then
stay
—”

“I also don’t want to be on Capricorn. I don’t want to be watching the news waiting to hear how many others have died. I don’t want to be in a
war. I don’t want to be an orphan.” He’s squeezing the locket so tight, I’m worried he’ll cut himself. “They’ve taken everything from me. My family, my home, even half my vision. I have nothing left.”

I rest my hand on his, and he finally looks at me, his grip on the locket relaxing. His blue eye is shiny with tears. “You have us,” I whisper. “We’re your family now.”

He wipes the tears with the back of his bandaged hand. “My older sister and I used to fight all the time. We could barely be in the same room without competing for the same game or the same person’s attention.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t like remembering.

“I wanted a brother. Like Stanton.” More tears run down his cheek, but he doesn’t wipe them. “Do you hate me now?”

“No,” I murmur, squeezing his hand. Then I pass him a tissue, and while he dries his face, I try one last time. “Stanton really loves you. He’d be thrilled if you stayed.”

Aryll surveys the room, as though his decision depends on these very walls. “I can’t stay. I don’t like it here, Rho. I’m not sure what it is . . .”

Watching him now, I spot the discomfort in his expression. His sunburn is looking worse today, and I start to wonder if maybe it’s just this place that doesn’t agree with him.

“Too much land,” I say, nodding decisively. “I think we’re going to like Sagittarius.”

The next morning, Stanton accompanies Aryll and me to the spaceport. Aryll boards the shuttle first and saves us seats so that I can say a longer goodbye to Stanton. As I look into my brother’s face, I think of the flickering of Thebe in the Ephemeris and how I stayed silent while Stanton was in danger. My mind travels back a decade, and I see the bubbles in the Cancer Sea that foreshadowed the Maw’s attack. I stayed silent then, too.

“Come with us,” I say, taking his hand.

He frowns. “This is
your
calling, Rho . . . mine’s here.”

“I saw Ophiuchus in the Psy yesterday. He told me Capricorn is the true target, not Sagittarius.” I say it real quick so that I don’t have to hear the words or consider their meaning.

“I know.”

I blink. “You
know
?”

“Aryll told me. He also told me his theory about Ochus being an invention, and I think it’s worth considering. I’m happy you can talk to him, Rho.”

Stanton’s gentle tone sounds like Dad’s again, and I realize how much I wish we still had someone to tell us what to do right now and take care of us and shield us from our fears—a
parent
. Only as I think of the word’s meaning, it’s not Mom or Dad who come to mind.

Stanton’s right. He’s always been more than a brother—he raised me. And now, to both of our dismays, I’ve outgrown his protection.

“I love you,” I say, pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug.

“Love you, too,” he whispers, and then I step up to the shuttle, refusing to look back, so I won’t cry. I feel like I’m twelve years old again, boarding the ship to Elara and deserting the person I love most in the Zodiac.

Just as I’m stepping through the door, a Chronicler calls my name. “Rhoma Grace! A package for you from Sage Ferez.”

I accept the small box and step inside the ship, which is a long cylinder lined with reclining levlan seats on both sides. It’s built for speed, not comfort; we’ll get to Sagittarius in under a day.

I spot Aryll’s red hair and make for the seat next to his, suddenly stricken by how much even he’s reminding me of myself from five years ago, when I left home for the first time. How lonely it felt to leave behind everything I loved. Only in Aryll’s case, everything he loved left him.

An offer of friendship was the only way I got through that trip to Elara.

“Aryll,” I say, sitting down beside him, “I know you have an easier time talking to my brother, and that’s totally fine. But I want you to know I’m here for you. I’m going to look out for you like Stanton did. You’re not alone.”

Aryll’s gaze grows glassy, and he nods at me without speaking. He’s clasping the locket in his fingers again, like it’s for good fortune. I give him some privacy by looking down at my lap and focusing on the box from Sage Ferez.

When I pop the lid, the first thing I find is a note:

Until you are reunited with your true Ephemeris, this one is on loan to you from the Zodiax. It is said to have belonged to Vecily Matador of House Taurus before she became Guardian and a member of the Trinary Axis. Should you find time to indulge in the mind’s most sacred act, I Waved you a text on Guardian Matador that I think you will find most illuminating. Safe travels.

I set the note aside and find a heart-shaped device that looks like it’s been carved from bone. Rolling the Ephemeris around in my hand, I feel the buzzing of the Abyssthe in its core responding to the Abyssthe in my Ring.

“You really made an impression on him,” says Aryll, reading over my shoulder.

Since we’re taking off, I put the Ephemeris back in the box and stuff it in my bag. After buckling in, I say, “Aryll . . . if, for whatever reason, I don’t make it—”

“I’ll return the stone to Ferez,” he says in a low tone. “But only if you never bring that up again.”

I nod just as an automated voice speaks through the ship.
“This shuttle is now taking off. Please enjoy your trip. We will be landing on Sagittarius in nineteen galactic hours.”

The engine vibrates across the cylindrical ship, and I look through the windows across from us as the spaceport grows smaller. Tierre has the widest range of topography and animal species of any planet. It’s so vast that the higher we go, the more land I see—forests, mountain ranges, grassy fields, swamps, beaches—until, with a jolt, we escape Tierre’s gravity, and I can make out the edges of the colorful globe. The tapestry of textures is undeniably impressive . . . but I miss the blending blues of home.

Once the ship jumps to hyperspeed, Aryll takes an eighteen-hour sleeping powder from the seat’s side pouch and promptly passes out. But sleep doesn’t appeal to me—I’m in a thinking mood.

I open my Wave and pull up the file from Ferez. It’s a report dated almost eighty years back, which he wrote when he was a university student. Blue holographic text unfolds before me.

It’s been almost a millennium since the Trinary Axis, and yet we have never forgotten the greatest love story in Zodiac history: the forbidden romance of Cancrian Holy Mother Brianella Amarise and Leonine Holy Leader Blazon Logax. Their story is the basis for the universally popular nursery rhyme “Ballad of Bria and Blaze” as well as the inspiration for the two most famously star-crossed lovers in Zodiac fiction, Nella and Lazon. The legend of these two ancient Guardians has even crept into modern-day idioms: When someone says his relationship or marriage “blazes on,” he is alluding to the eternal flame between Blazon and Brianella.