Black Moon
“We are those bridges. The Tomorrow Party is actively searching for young people who want to help us reshape the worlds we’ll inherit tomorrow. And I sincerely hope you will consider joining us.”
The hologram winks out, and moments later, the ship’s automated voice sounds through the intercom. “Please prepare for landing.” As we buckle into our seats, I feel my first flicker of excitement for this new political party. Blaze’s idealism reminds me of Twain and Candela and Ezra and everyone else I met on Centaurion a few months ago, and I’m eager to get involved and feel useful again.
At the memory of that trip, my mind immediately wanders to Hysan. Has he heard of the Tomorrow Party? What does he think of it?
But I force myself to leave those thoughts behind. If Mathias and I have any chance at a future together, I have to let go of Hysan as completely as he’s let go of me.
The wings flap dramatically again as we cross the invisible barrier into Primitus’s gravity, and then I feel the full weight of my body as the planet’s colored contours swell through the floor’s glass window. House Aquarius is a Royal Monarchy under the rule of the Supreme Guardian; Guardianship is a birthright here, so lineage is determined by blood. Since Supreme Guardian Gortheaux the Thirty-Third is only six years old, his Senior Advisor Untara—the House’s best seer—rules in his stead.
Aquarius is made up of six Clans, two on each planet: the Nightwing Clan consists of the House’s star readers (like Pandora and Mallie from Helios’s Halo); the Literati, scholars and educators; the Fellowship, socially conscious activists and philanthropists; the Naturalists, environmentalists; the Visionaries, architects of tomorrow; and, finally, the Royal Clan, where the House’s ruling Monarchy resides. Since Primitus houses both the Royal and Nightwing Clans, I’m hoping we’ll get to see the royal palace. It’s one of the Four Marvels of the Zodiac. The castle is supposedly so massive that on a clear day its silhouette can be seen from anywhere in the Royal Kingdom.
The ship lands on a grassy hilltop beneath an overcast sky, and the Leonine attendants assure us they’ll deliver our bags to the Party’s headquarters. Before disembarking, the three of us change into our Cancrian blue suits.
I deplane first and immediately wish I’d brought a thicker coat. I’ve never been this far from the sun before. The Eleventh House’s orbit is farther out from Helios than any world I’ve visited—its three moons are even known for their famous ski spas.
I have just enough time to spot a wooden stable on the horizon when Nishi’s arms engulf me, and we spin around and around on the field, clasped close together and laughing giddily into each other’s ears. When we stop laughing, we tighten our holds, and I know we’re both fighting tears.
When we pull apart, I get my first good look at my best friend, and I’m startled by how different she seems.
She’s wearing a white levlan coat that probably cost three times as much as the red suit she wore to the Lunar Quadract, and a pair of brilliant gemstones dangle from each of her earlobes, so bright they look like stars. Nishi’s always had expensive taste, but like me, she’s generally more comfortable in casual clothes. Seeing her so uncharacteristically made up reminds me of my public appearances as Guardian, when I wasn’t dressing up for me but for my cause.
While she greets Stan and Mathias, I notice a couple of silver-haired Aquarian men approaching us, and behind them trails a rainbow of horses—gray, aqua, pink, green. As the enormous creatures clomp closer, the aqua-colored steed steers away from the group to shake its head of hair, and a pair of gigantic, feathery wings stretch skyward from its sides.
“What are those?” asks Stan, and for the first time in too long, there’s no shadow in his voice.
“Pegazi,” says Nishi. “Members of the Royal Clan ride them to get around.”
The pink horse trots up to Nishi, like it recognizes her, and the Aquarian men introduce Stan and Mathias to the green and gray Pegazi. I stare at the aqua creature that’s still standing apart from us.
“That’s Candor,” says one of the men after he’s helped Mathias onto the gray steed, referring to the aqua horse. “She’s the head of her herd, so only a leader may ride her.”
I consider mentioning that my Wandering Star role doesn’t come with any actual power, but the silver-haired man is already clicking at Candor to call her over. She doesn’t budge.
“Looks like she expects us to come to her.” He grins at me, and I notice two of his teeth are missing. I really hope it wasn’t Candor’s hoof that knocked them out.
“It’s the Pegazi’s land, so I think we ought to heed her wishes,” he says genially. “After all, the decision to bond must be mutual. She has to accept you.”
I follow him over to the winged horse, and she looks down at me through onyx eyes; the longer I stare into them, the more colors I see within their depths. They remind me of the black opal Talisman.
“What do you mean it’s the Pegazi’s land?” I ask, still studying Candor’s eyes.
“History tells us that when humans colonized Primitus, the Pegazi already inhabited the planet’s northern hemisphere. To avoid disturbing their way of life, our ancestors designed the Royal Kingdom around them, and over the centuries the Pegazi grew curious about us and began befriending people, eventually learning our language.”
I whip my face to the Aquarian, expecting to find he’s joking, but he looks serious. “She can—understand us?” I ask incredulously.
Candor whinnies and bows low, and the man exclaims, “She’s accepted you!”
My stomach is in knots as I take the hand he holds out to me and swing a leg around Candor’s back. “There’s a ridge in her spine that can cradle you,” says the Aquarian, gesturing for me to slide up. As I edge along the Pegazi’s smooth skin, I feel myself drop into a slight crest in the brackets of her back.
“Once you’re bonded, it’s for life,” he says reverently. “A Pegazi never forgets a soul. She’ll sense your presence any time you enter the Royal Kingdom.”
“That’s—unbelievable.”
Looking down at him from high up on Candor’s back, it occurs to me that though he seems to be some kind of shepherd for the Pegazi, the man doesn’t touch the creatures, nor does he seem to have any control over them.
Without warning Candor clomps forward to join the others, and I turn around to wave to the Aquarian. “Thank you!”
The other Pegazi have formed a line to greet us, like soldiers saluting their captain, and as Candor surveys the winged horses, I gaze out at my friends. “Loosen up, Rho!” calls Nishi. “Try having fun!”
Candor’s wings whoosh out suddenly, and the whole world starts shaking as she gallops ahead, and it’s like going from zero to lightspeed in a single breath. I hang tight to her neck as her wings flap at my sides, blowing frosty air in my face, and I hear the other horses’ hooves echoing behind us.
We speed up as we near the cliff’s edge, and I shriek as we leap off the hilltop. Then she straightens her wings, and we soar into the cloudy sky.
The wind whipping at my face would have frozen me by now if not for the Pegazi’s body heat; the warmth emanating from her hide combats the cold and makes the whole experience rather . . . delightful.
I look down as we fly over a vast valley of widely spaced family estates. The enormous homes sprawl along one side of a clear turquoise lake, and on its other side is a Pegazi habitat boasting sheltered shacks with barrels of hay and feather blankets. We rise higher as we crest a steep hill, and then a forest emerges, swallowing the landscape in shades and textures of green, until the tapestry of trees is cut off by the roaring blue ocean.
After a while, my neck starts to cramp, so I look up.
And I suck in a shocked breath.
Looming large over the gray horizon and hovering high above the Royal Kingdom . . . is a castle in the clouds.
10
A MAJE
STIC, MULTI-TOWERED PALACE SITS in the sky, covered with hundreds of waterfalls cascading down its walls.
I remember from Mom’s lessons that the castle isn’t really floating, not like Libra’s flying cities; it’s actually propped up on invisible ice that gets harvested from Primitus’s moon. The ice is cold enough that it can’t melt, and it’s been holding up the castle since the Zodiac’s earthling settlers originally built it millennia ago.
Candor gallops along the cottony clouds, which are actually swirls of frosty steam rolling along the ice’s top layer. Since its surface is frigid enough to burn a person’s skin off, the ice is buried beneath a bulky blanket of sand.
While I would love to see the castle, I can’t help but wonder why we’re headed there now, when we should be on our way to the Tomorrow Party’s headquarters.
The Pegazi come to a halt in a waterfall plaza by the palace entrance, and the sound of rushing water echoes through the open space. All around us, Aquarian dignitaries decked in heavy layers of flamboyant fabrics go about their day, ostentatious Philosopher’s Stones swinging from their necks. They have narrow faces, ivory skin, and glassy eyes with irises that span every shade of sky—black, gray, purple, blue, red, pink, orange, yellow.
A valet in a velvet top hat offers me a hand, and Candor bows low to let me slide off. But first I whisper in her ear, “That was stellar. Thanks, Candor. And, um, thank you for bonding with me.”
My boots land on the sandy ground, and I head over to Nishi, who has climbed off her pink Pegazi. “What are we doing at the royal palace?” I ask.
“Aquarius was the first House—after Leo—to support the Tomorrow Party, so Blaze reached out to the Monarchy and asked if they would host our launch event. We’ve been here a few weeks, preparing for tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?” I ask, as Stan and Mathias join us.
Nishi pauses dramatically, and I can’t help but smile at her theatrics. “A royal ball!”
When none of our reactions match her excitement, she rolls her eyes and mutters to herself, “Cancrians. Anyway, it’s our first formal event, and it’s both a membership drive and a fundraiser. Blaze thought it would look best if a neutral world hosted us, since his own House would seem too biased. Besides, Leo endorses so many causes that their backing isn’t taken all that seriously.”
I feel hot breath on my shoulder, and I look up into Candor’s onyx eyes in wonder. She blinks at me before trotting away, the other Pegazi following her at a respectful distance, and soon they all disappear around the castle’s edge.
“There’s a habitat for them on the palace grounds,” says Nishi. “Now come see inside!”
We follow her through the rows of waterfalls, and I hug my chest as I walk, trying to return some feeling to my numb limbs. The chilly temperature of this world, combined with the coolness of the water cascading around us, is making me miss Candor’s warmth.
The sand beneath our feet turns to stone as we step into a sheltered archway where a group of Elders—Aquarian Zodai—in aqua-colored suits guard the castle doors. They don’t say anything as we pass them, and then we enter a round entrance hall with a ceiling so high I can’t see it.
The sandstone walls around us are punctured with patterns of stained glass windows that are dyed and designed to reflect the Zodiac’s twelve constellations. In place of the Thirteenth House is a massive rendering of Helios, its golden light so bright that it looks like it could be sunny out. I don’t have long to admire the chamber’s grandiosity, or the lavishly dressed courtiers who don cloaks of every color and fabric over their clothes, because Nishi nudges me onward.
We cut through countless common spaces where the textured ceilings are blanketed in arrangements of billowing fabrics, and every roof depicts a different sky—red sunsets, blue dawns, full moons, starry nights, cloudy mornings. Everywhere we turn, colorful, carpet-thick cloths cling to the walls, bearing elaborate mosaic patterns. Each cloth looks like it’s encased within its own current of air, and they all undulate to the stone floor in rolling waves, creating the impression that the artwork is alive.
As we dive through more and more drawing rooms, a few times I glimpse the balcony of an upper level, but I haven’t seen any stairs or lifts yet. It’s impossible to tell how many stories there are because the castle’s layout seems as intricate as the designs dancing along its walls.
Nishi stops walking when we reach a billowing burgundy-and-blue embroidered cloth. She presses her thumb to the wall sensor beside it, and I jump back as the fabric fluffs outward on its own and then ripples into a set of carpeted stairs.
“Aquarius is a stormy world,” says Nishi, when she sees our stupefied faces, “and since the royal palace is so high up, it constantly gets struck by lightning. So Elders learned to harness the electric currents in the air to activate the stored static charges in these fabrics.
“It’s completely safe,” she adds, probably noting the hesitation on my face. “If you get a slight charge from a surface, don’t worry. The worst that’ll happen is you’ll come down with a case of frizzy hair.” She pulls me up the staircase with her. “And in your case, no one will know the difference.”
“Hilarious,” I say, though her joke makes me think of Leyla and Lola and how much I wish they were here.
The steps feel unexpectedly sturdy beneath my feet, and when we reach the top of the staircase, we climb through an opening in the wall that had previously been hidden. We emerge in a brightly lit common area with a billowy ceiling depicting a violet twilight that’s probably exactly how the Aquarian sky looked at the moment of Pandora’s birth. A constellation of stars shines from the fabric in the shape of the Sagittarian Archer.
At least a hundred young people—all donning different House uniforms—gather together on plush, velvet couches, or review holographic screens at sandstone tables, or tune into news reports from the surrounding wallscreens. At least the temperature in here is warmer than the rest of the castle.
“This is the Tomorrow Party,” says Nishi proudly, panning her gaze across the scene before us. “Aquarius loaned us this wing of the castle for our stay. We’ve been planning tomorrow’s event for weeks. There’s so much to do, from handling the invitations and RSVP’s, to figuring out the decorations and catering and entertainment, to preparing our presentation and the night’s agenda, to sorting out everything that happens next, and—I’ll stop,” says Nishi, pausing for breath.
“Wandering Star.”
I turn to see a curvy and tight-clothed Geminin girl with lustrous, tawny skin. “Imogen!” I exclaim, and we run through her elaborately choreographed greeting, which involves knocking knuckles, bumping elbows, and slapping hands.
“Imogen and I joined the Party at around the same time,” says Nishi, “and since we didn’t know anyone else, we stuck together.”
“You have to meet Blaze,” says Imogen, and like last time, the red gloss of her lips is so shiny I can’t look anywhere else. “He’s really excited to meet you.”
“I’d love to meet him.”
“Holy Mother!” I’m startled to hear myself called by that title again, and I turn to see a group of blue-suited Cancrians. As I trade the hand touch with all of them, I learn they’ve come from refugee camps across the Zodiac. Most are survivors from Elara.
“We’re kind of at capacity with rooms right now,” says Nishi, once the wave of Cancrians has receded. “Especially since tomorrow’s guests are also staying at the castle overnight. So if it’s okay, Stan and Mathias”—she looks over my head to the guys—“you’ll share a room, and Rho, you’ll stay with me.”
An irrepressible smile stretches my lips. Nishi notices my reaction and links her arm through mine again.
We cross to an alcove at the far end of the common area where a stone staircase spirals to higher floors. As we climb up, Imogen stops at a door on a lower level to give Stan and Mathias
access to their room, but Nishi and I continue all the way to the very top of the tower.
When the staircase ends, Nishi swings the door open to reveal a round room encased in glass windows that looks out over the whole kingdom. If it weren’t overcast out, we could probably see most of Primitus’s northern hemisphere from this high up.
“This place is stunning.” I spot my belongings on a bench at the foot of the bed. “How important are you to this Party?”
I survey the suite, which has its own lavish lavatory and a cordoned-off area that’s probably a Lady’s Lounge—a staple in the homes of Aquarian noblewomen. I remember reading about them at the Academy; through an opening in the gold-tasseled curtains, I can just make out its mirrored walls and velvet vanity.
Nishi perches at the edge of the large, feathery bed, and as she relaxes, her smile starts to falter. I sit beside her in silence, waiting for her to fall apart now that we’re alone and can finally talk in private.
“When I got back to Centaurion,” she begins, sounding more exhausted in here than she did out there, “I was a mess.”
She rakes a slightly shaky hand through her thick hair. “My parents were so worried. They wanted me to apply to a Zodai University campus on another House, but I couldn’t . . . .” Her amber eyes grow weighted down, and I take her hand, certain she’s going to cry.
“Then, three weeks ago, I got a message from Blaze. He told me about this Party and asked if I would take a holographic meeting with him.” She sits up a little straighter and blinks back the sadness with surprising ease. As I watch the heaviness fade from her eyes, I’m reminded of a morning on Elara four years ago.
Our class’s first vacation from the Academy was approaching, and a couple of days before break, Nishi awoke to a recording from her parents saying they would be attending a festival on House Leo and wouldn’t be able to join her at home. I remember watching as she blinked a few times, and I took her hand in mine, the same way I did just now, certain she was going to cry.