Thirteen Rising

  Hysan sets the bottle down and arches an eyebrow. “Of?”

  “Running into me.”

  His lips hitch into his crooked smirk even as he takes a step back. “You don’t scare me, Major Thorne.”

  “I know you’re tempted,” she says seductively, moving in close enough that Hysan’s shoulders touch the wall. “We used to have so much fun together.”

  “Skar,” he says softly, his expression sobering, “I told you after the ball. I’m in love with her.”

  I exhale and wait for my veins to flood with relief. . . . Instead, I find myself wondering how long his resistance will last.

  “But are you sure she’s in love with you?”

  Skarlet asks the question with the same gentle voice she used when describing to me what Phaet means to Arieans.

  “I’ve made it clear I’m challenging her, and she doesn’t seem bothered by it. Or, who knows,” she adds with the flicker of a dangerous grin, “she might even be open to sharing you.”

  Hysan’s jaw tightens, and his words come out slightly clipped. “Why are you messing with her? I thought you said you admired her.”

  “I do,” she says, shrugging. “You know I only pick on people my own size.”

  “You have a strange way of making friends.”

  “What is it about her?” she asks, bringing her mouth right up to his, so close that the slightest movement would bring them together. She’s wearing so little clothing that Hysan can’t avoid touching her bare skin. “I know she’s not the best-looking woman in the Zodiac,” she adds with a sultry smile.

  “But she is the most beautiful,” he says, all traces of good humor gone from his voice.

  Skarlet takes a surprised step back, and for a moment she just stares at him, while he calmly holds her gaze.

  “You really are in love,” she says at last, tacking on a small shrug. “Pity.”

  As she sashays past me out the doorway, her expression crumbles with the pain she’s too proud to let Hysan see, and I turn back to watch him.

  His skin’s golden glow is dull, like a lamp that’s been put out, and he hasn’t moved at all. He seems more affected by Skarlet’s presence now that she’s gone.

  I wonder if he regrets rejecting her, or if he’s just thinking of what she revealed about me.

  But is it true?

  I know on a rational level that I once loved Hysan, yet I’ve lost the memory of the way it felt. It’s like my emotions have been muted; I know they exist, but I can’t tap into them. Maybe this is what it’s like to be Libran.

  I’m so lost in my head that it takes me a moment to realize he’s moved. Hysan digs into his bag and removes something I can’t see. After pulling on a shirt he’d draped over one of the machines, he turns toward the door to go and looks at me.

  I freeze in place, until I remember I’m invisible and he can’t see me.

  “Hi, Rho.”

  “What—” I cut myself off when I see the collar he’s just fastened around his neck, peeking out from beneath the shirt’s neckline. The Veils are networked.

  “Been here long?” he asks.

  “I—”

  “Actually, I’m glad,” he says quickly, like he’s not at all interested in discussing what I just witnessed. “There’s something I’d like to show you—but I should shower first.”

  “Shower later,” I say impatiently. “We’re invisible anyway.”

  “Follow me then,” he says, and we take off down the hall, away from the room with the terminals and into a different, smaller space that smells musty and old. “This is where the Zodai keep this House’s earliest records, the ones they didn’t turn over to the Zodiax. It’s all the data from when our ancestors first landed on Phaetonis.”

  He clicks keys on a screen embedded into the wall, until a hole opens up in the floor at the center of the room. A platform rises up, and all that’s on it is an open manuscript, its pages yellowed and wispy and faded. The book is encased in light, and unintelligible words begin to rise from it into the air, a holographic recreation of the text, which is written in some archaic language.

  “Do you remember when Sirna read that story to us, The Chronicles of Hebitsukai-Za, the Serpent Bearer?”

  I’m instantly intrigued, and I start regurgitating what I remember. “Sirna said Holy Mother Crae sent Lodestar Yosme to House Aries seventy-seven years ago to study the first version of the myth, about the time-worm—but the report was buried because there were details too alarming to be made public. Details having to do with time.”

  “You really weren’t lying about your infallible memory,” says Hysan with a half-smile.

  “What have you found?” I press.

  “Apparently this story dates back to the days of the Original Guardians,” he says, growing businesslike again and not meeting my gaze. “I’ve found more texts with allusions to Ophiuchus; sometimes he’s represented with one snake and sometimes with two, like the Caduceus symbol.”

  “On Cancer, the Caduceus is just one snake.”

  “That’s because the Thirteenth House’s mythology has been so twisted over time that we can’t be sure what’s true. In the Tale of Hebitsukai-Za, thirteen travelers traverse the time warp to enter the universe, and the last one gets wrapped in the coils of a giant worm biting its own tail—so it looks like two snakes, but it’s really just one.”

  “But what’s important about this?”

  “The fact that this version of events circulated at the beginning of time means there must be more truth to it than we realize.” The holographic text begins to translate itself as Hysan recounts the story, and I see the images Sirna once projected for us at the Libran embassy.

  “Za was the last to come through, and when he did his body was entwined in the ropey coils of an enormous worm biting its own tail—Time. Passing though the time warp created an unstable leak between the old universe and ours, and they were in imminent danger of sliding together and collapsing, so the travelers sealed off the warp, but only after Za had brought the time-worm through. The travelers recognized the chaos this would cause and tried to kill the worm, and by accident bludgeoned Za to death. The worm needed a host, so it reversed time and resurrected Za.” It ends with what looks like the glyph of House Ophiuchus.

  “I remember all this,” I say impatiently, “but I still don’t understand why it’s been filed as dangerous—”

  “Because it’s true,” he says, his large green eyes sparkling with excitement. “Ophiuchus’s Talisman lets him control Time—namely, his own time line. And the other Guardians felt threatened by this, so they killed him. Only the Talisman—the time-worm—never truly let go of Ophiuchus. It resurrected his essence and kept him tied to our universe.”

  “So you’re saying it’s just like the Ochus stories of every House—more evidence hidden in our art that there was a thirteenth world—”

  “Yes, but I think there’s another secret in that story,” he says carefully. “Travelers came from another universe through a time warp to settle the Zodiac . . . sounds a lot like the universal myth about the first humans arriving here through a portal in Helios, doesn’t it?”

  “Myths speak to us through metaphor,” I whisper, recalling Hysan’s words when Sirna first told us this story.

  His ears turn pink, but he doesn’t comment on my memory again. “Rho, I think the gateway through Helios might be real.”

  His eyes are entranced, and his golden glow burns brighter. “I think just as they erased House Ophiuchus from history, the Original Guardians also convinced newer generations to believe the portal their ancestors came through was just a legend—so that no one would ever attempt going through it again.”

  “And that’s the master’s plan,” I finish for him as Hysan nods. “Holy Helios. He’s going to turn off the sun by going through it.”

  14


  WHEN I GET BACK TO my tent, there’s an outfit and fresh food waiting for me.

  As I eat and get ready, I’m still thinking of Hysan’s theory. If the Last Prophecy is really about Aquarius going through Helios, then it’s not a future written in the stars—it’s a future written by a star.

  Our sun is only going dark because the master is going to travel through it.

  Aquarius himself said he was the first person to prophesize this future, so he must also have the power to stop it. He just has to make a different choice. He has to abandon his plan to go through Helios.

  For the Ascension ceremony, it’s tradition for Zodai to don silky robes, and as I’m in mourning, I’ll be the only one in white. Everyone else will be in dark colors. Since I don’t plan to come back to the tent, I leave on my Lodestar suit beneath my robe, and I stuff my Wave, Vecily’s Ephemeris, and my Psy shield into its various pockets. I leave Sirna’s necklace behind so that Hysan can’t track me.

  I wonder where the necklace Aquarius re-created from my childhood went. I’m betting Hysan thought it was a transmitter or weapon of some kind. He lost his parents too young to understand the necklace’s true power.

  “My lady?”

  “Come in,” I say as I take one last look in the vanity’s mirror to make sure my suit isn’t visible. I’ve closed my robe all the way up to my throat, and my boots are hidden by my silky white train.

  I step out to the middle of the white feather floor to meet Hysan, who’s dressed in a dark charcoal robe. His hair is brushed back, and in the dying day’s light his eyes are a dazzling shade of green. And as I’m absorbing every detail of his face, it strikes me that I might never see him again.

  “Everyone is heading to the Everblaze,” he says huskily. “I came by to offer to escort you . . . if you’d like the company.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I say, surprised that I actually mean it.

  Hysan seems surprised, too, because he comes closer and strokes my cheekbone.

  This time his touch doesn’t feel so far away, and I lean into his hand. He moves in, too, until his mouth hovers over mine, and something in my chest dislodges, like a chunk of glacier melting. I part my lips to catch my breath, and he tips his face down, like he’s going to kiss me.

  “Let’s go,” I say, exiting the tent quickly to escape Hysan’s heat. I let the cool evening breeze stomp out the last cinders of whatever just sparked between us so I can keep my wall of ice in place.

  It takes a few moments for Hysan to follow me out, and when he catches up, I ask, “What happened to the necklace Crompton threw at me at the Cathedral?”

  “I got rid of it. I thought it could be a recording device.” He clears his throat. “So how did it go with Gamba today? Did she have any message from the Luminaries?”

  I shake my head. “She’s here because she loves my mother. I don’t think she knows anything helpful,” I lie.

  Soon we’re engulfed in a massive crowd of robed Zodai from across the galaxy, all of us marching toward the black smoke that rises over the golden trees. Above us, the sky has become a boiling cauldron again, the red sun setting the clouds on fire.

  When we reach the clearing where the Everblaze burns, I stare up in awe: The black flames rise so high that they practically lick the stars. The crowd parts for Hysan and me, and many Zodai solemnly stick out a hand to touch me as we pass.

  We wade through them slowly, until we make it right up to the fire, where General Eurek is waiting with Mathias and Pandora. Hovering beside them is a body on a metal bed, covered by a thin white sheet.

  Hysan wraps a steadying arm around me, but I still feel like I’m floating away. A part of me yearns to throw myself at the flames and join my brother—and I probably would, if that didn’t mean abandoning Nishi, my sister.

  Pandora and Eurek bow to me, but Mathias pulls me into his blue-robed chest and holds me there tightly. When we part, Eurek murmurs, “Do you wish to say something, Wandering Star?” I shake my head no. “Then if you’re ready, I’ll commence the ceremony.”

  I nod in agreement. It’s as articulate as I’m going to get.

  Eurek raises his voice, and it’s so strong and clear that it could be echoing through the entire forest; I notice a volumizer floating near his mouth, amplifying his reach.

  “We are here to bid farewell to our fallen brother, honorary Lodestar Stanton Grace. He’s the first Cancrian—the first non-Ariean—whose soul will rise to Empyrean through the Everblaze, but may he not be the last.”

  Eurek’s bloodred robe flickers in the dimming light, and his dark skin grows darker as night lengthens its shadow. “In Stanton’s honor, henceforth, anyone seeking refuge, including Risers, will find a home on Aries.”

  Gasps of surprise spread through the crowd, and one girl whoops so loudly that people’s heads turn in her direction. But Skarlet—in a low-cut black robe—doesn’t look the least bit sorry.

  I feel like in an alternate universe there’s a Rho Grace rejoicing at this news. A Rho Grace who just accomplished something she set out to do a dozen lifetimes ago. But that Rho Grace doesn’t live here anymore.

  She left this world with Stanton.

  I’m just a holo-ghost with unfinished business.

  The elevated bed holding Stan starts floating forward until the black flames swallow him whole. Eurek bows his head in prayer, and all the Majors do the same. Pandora and Hysan follow their example, as do the Zodai in the crowd.

  Mathias and I lock eyes. When Cancrians launch their dead to Empyrean, we look up, not down.

  Maybe I was wrong to do this—I’m deceiving my brother by putting his soul to rest through traditions that aren’t his own, all so I can betray everything he stood for to save Nishi.

  You’re honoring him beyond anything he could have hoped for, says Mathias’s voice in my head, my Ring buzzing with the influx of Psynergy. You’ve just made him a pioneer—the first of us to truly break barriers and belong not to one House but all of them. He would be proud, Rho.

  I close my eyes and send back, Thank you.

  My chest feels like a fracturing glacier again, and I suck in another open-mouthed breath to push the wall back in place.

  When Stan’s blanketed body floats back out, it looks exactly as it did going in—except my brother’s really gone now. His essence has moved on to Empyrean.

  “Per the Cancrian tradition,” says Eurek, “we will now launch Stanton Grace’s body to Helios. May he find his place with his father, his people, and all those we’ve lost, and may he bring us together in Empyrean as he’s brought us together now.”

  Metal walls roll up from either side of the bed and seal around Stan, enclosing him in a Space capsule. Eurek inputs a sequence, and the whole thing tips up until it’s perfectly vertical, like a rocket.

  Eurek rests a hand on the metal and says, “Go in peace, brother.”

  Then he stands back, and the rest of us do the same, right as a blast of fire booms out, and the capsule shoots into the sky. My robes flutter as it goes, and in seconds it disappears among the stars.

  I love you so much, Stan.

  I’m sorry for failing you.

  But we’ll be together again soon.

  15

  LIKE SAGITTARIANS, ARIEANS CELEBRATE DEATH—they don’t mourn it. So there’s a huge party following the Ascension, and it’s exactly what I was counting on.

  Red bonfires spring up all around us, illuminating the night. Since everything has been so tense until now, most Zodai are already drunk within the first hour. Raucous music blares through the clearing, and the party has an “end of the worlds” feel to it—like no one’s sure they’ll ever laugh or dance or kiss again after tonight, so they’re getting their fill.

  Pandora stands close to me while Hysan and Mathias fetch us drinks. “Whatever you’re planning, let me help you,” she says the instant
the guys disappear.

  My gut clenches with alarm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’ve been secretive all day. Hysan can tell something’s up.” The deep purple of her robe makes her violet irises pop. “I’m offering you my help because I think you need it.”

  “I’m fine,” I say too quickly. Then I turn away from her and distract myself by watching the tables of food that Majors are carrying over from the closest keep’s kitchen.

  It seems like any Zodai who aren’t drinking or dancing or hooking up are leaping into the cobalt sea or standing in the shallows of the Everblaze. A tall Ariean girl enters the black flames, her eyes closed and head tipped up to the sky; I count off the seconds, and when I get to thirteen, she jumps back out like she’s been burned.

  There are no visible scars, but she’s clutching her chest like the fire is inside. When she looks up, she spots me.

  “Rho!” she shouts over the loud music, and as she bounds over, I recognize the youngest healer—the one who was eager to summon Hysan for me. “I’m so sorry about your brother. Can I get you anything?”

  “Hysan’s on it.”

  Her brown eyes light up and grow even larger. “I’m so glad you guys found each other! He was so worried about you—I swear, I’ve never seen anyone so distraught before. Just watching him as he watched over you was enough to break even an Ariean’s hard heart—”

  “What were you doing in there?” I ask, cutting her off and jutting my chin at the fire. I can’t hear another word about how perfect Hysan is; not when I alone am keeper of his secrets.

  “Oh, that,” she says, shrugging. “I was trying to get a vision, but it’s impossible. I can count on both hands the number of Arieans in history who’ve managed it. They’re legendary.”

  Hysan and Mathias come up behind her, and they each hand a drink to Pandora and me. “Hi, Valea,” says Hysan, greeting the Ariean. “Can I get you something?”