As Cancrians, caring after our loved ones is our top priority. When Mom left, it caused ripples through our whole community. Broken families are rare on Cancer, runaway mothers unheard of.
But I had Stanton and Dad. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have no one.
“My parents are helping with the resettlement,” Mathias tells me, after they’ve gone to bed. I’m staying in their guestroom, and Mathias is going to sleep in the den, but for now, we’re both on the hammock in my room, talking.
“They’re negotiating with other Houses for temporary housing and food. My dad’s trying to establish an orphanage.”
An orphanage. Is that where Hysan was raised by the robot Miss Trii? Is that where generations of Cancrian and Virgo children will be raised after Ochus’s attacks?
“Rho?”
Mathias’s deep, calming voice brings me back to tonight. “Sorry.” I muster a small smile. “Life has been upside down for so long that things like parents and sleeping in a bedroom now feel alien.”
“I know what you mean,” he says, a dark lock falling into his eye. His Zodai-style haircut has grown out.
Amanta put our clothes in the refresher and lent us outfits to sleep in. I’m wearing one of Egon’s old shirts—it falls a little higher than my knees, and the neckline slings across my shoulder. Mathias is in a pair of sweats and no shirt. Every time he moves, the lines of his chest and arms readjust, and I can almost see the muscles working beneath his skin.
When the impulse to touch him grows louder than my thoughts, I ask, “Can I borrow your Wave?” Mine is still locked up, in case Ophiuchus can activate the tutorial Ephemeris.
I use Mathias’s Wave to try to reach Dad and Stanton, but I can’t get through. I know they’ve most likely lost theirs, but I keep hoping I’ll see them on the other end of the line. “I’ll ask the embassy to try locating them tomorrow,” says Mathias soothingly.
“Thanks.” I Wave Nishi’s Tracker next, but she doesn’t answer. No one is going to rescue me from being alone with Mathias, and Mathias’s muscles, and Mathias’s silence.
Earlier, we took turns showering, and it was amazing to feel real water on my skin and hair again. While I dried my curls, Mathias cleaned the gunk off his boots; and now, in spite of my protests, he’s doing the same with mine. He looks so serious, drawing his eyebrows together as he works bits of mud from the seams. The careful movements of his hands make me ache with guilt.
Before we got to Virgo, when he walked in on Hysan and me, he told me to remember who I am. Even though I’m still figuring it out, there are things I already know. Like I know I’m not a liar, and I don’t like secrets.
I shouldn’t have kept Hysan’s snooping from Mathias. Not because it was a big deal—I’m sure Hysan didn’t take anything—but because it’s not who I am. Mathias was right to refuse the veil collars from the start of our journey. We may have to fight, but we can’t lose sight of what we’re fighting for.
How are we saving Cancer if we lose our Cancrian values in the process?
“Rho, about your speech to the Plenum,” says Mathias, pausing to wipe the toe of my boot even though it’s already clean. “Maybe you shouldn’t mention Ophiuchus.”
Everything down to the thoughts in my head freezes. “What do you mean?”
He turns the boot over to inspect the heel. “The ambassadors will be hard to convince. I just think you might do better by sticking to facts you can prove, for now.”
The room darkens, as if someone’s dimmed the lights. “You don’t believe me. Still. After Virgo, after all you’ve seen.”
“Make your case about the Psy attack,” he says, his tone pleading. “You can prove that with the ship’s log, and Moira will back you. Why bring in a children’s story when you don’t have to? You know it makes people tune out.”
I can’t believe Mathias is asking me to lie. After everything he’s said about Hysan, now he’s telling me to be exactly like him. To lie to my people for their own good.
I remember the day of my swearing-in ceremony, when Nishi confronted me with her theory about Ophiuchus. I remember for a moment that I’d considered not mentioning Ochus to my Advisors so that I’d be taken seriously.
Then I remember Leyla’s words and Agatha’s blessing and Nishi’s commitment, and I know why I can’t lie: I would lose my way.
“Talk to me,” whispers Mathias. “You can’t just get upset when you disagree.”
I want to speak, but anger is once again building up in my chest. Mathias still doesn’t trust me. He can’t vouch for my account of the truth because he didn’t see all the things I saw. He didn’t see the warnings for Thebe or Virgo either, and I was proven right both times . . . but still he refuses to see that I’m right about Ophiuchus.
The anger clogs my throat with a powerless fury. There’s nothing I can do to prove I’m right to Mathias, short of opening my Ephemeris and calling Ochus here, right now.
“Rho.” Mathias sets down my boots and kneels on the floor in front of me. “I live to serve you. You know that. I’m just trying to help you make a stronger case. I want the Houses on our side.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking his hands and pulling him up. “I just need some sleep.”
“Of course, I’ll go,” he says, though he sounds a little sad. I feel the sadness, too—and I realize that under different circumstances, tonight could have gone another way.
“I’ll be in the den if you need anything.”
When Mathias leaves, I lie in the dark for a long time. It’s not his fault he doesn’t believe me. I know he’s trying. It just goes against every grain of his nature to take something this outlandish at face value. Until now, his skepticism bothered me, but his loyalty was enough.
It’s not anymore.
After everything that’s happened, convincing the Houses that Ophiuchus exists is all I have left. If I don’t make my case, the Zodiac is doomed. In the same way Mathias can’t find a way to believe me, I’m not sure I can find a way to forgive him.
Because no matter how much we care, or how hard we try, we remain on opposite sides.
• • •
The next morning, we leave the village and head to the hippodrome, where the Plenum is meeting.
The city is large, crowded, and disorganized. Yesterday’s bomb threat locked everything down and caused the ambassadors to stay overnight at the shelter, so we couldn’t meet with the Cancrian representative back at the embassy. We’re trying to meet her now.
When we arrive, Mathias’s parents have to report for their duties, but we agree to find them once we have an update. We spend an hour arguing with the clerks at the front desk who control the Plenum agenda, trying to convince them to give me a slot on today’s schedule. First, they insist there’s no way it can be adjusted because it’s jam-packed. Once we’ve persuaded them our business is urgent, they claim to need a series of permissions, and they take forever getting each one.
All around us, soldiers are walking through the crowd, inspecting every questionable person and item. Yesterday’s bomb scare left everyone rattled.
“Anything I can do, my lady?”
I whip around at the sound of Hysan’s voice, a grin on my face. He looks like the sunrise.
Immediately, he takes charge of the situation. Though he’s only seventeen, he’s got all the skills of a seasoned diplomat. While he haggles with the clerks, I check out the hippodrome: It’s a cube housing a giant, freestanding sphere of shining steel in its center. It looks like a small metal planet that’s been hidden in a concrete box.
We’re in the reception hall on the ground floor of the cube, and when I look up, I see the enormous underside of the sphere swelling overhead. Around it, a translucent pipe made of what looks like ruby glass spirals up as far as I can see, carrying people on a moving stairway up to the sphere’s many levels.
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“What’s inside the sphere?” I whisper to Mathias.
“That’s the arenasphere. When the Plenum’s not here, the locals use it for holographic wrestling. It’s actually a big business here.”
I’ve seen that on my Wave before. Contestants alter their holograms to look like imaginary beasts—flying horses, gargoyles, three-headed dogs. The technology is similar to what powers the Imaginarium on Gemini.
There’s a holographic newsfeed nearby, and Mathias and I sprint over to hear it. The footage is of ground fighting on the Sagittarian moon, where immigrant Scorps have turned against their Sagittarian employers, demanding the right to practice religious rituals in the workplace. Sagittarians are extremely tolerant people, which makes me wonder what kind of rituals the Scorps want to practice.
Since Sagittarius is a large constellation with many livable planets, I hope Nishi and her family are far away from the fighting. We don’t hear anything about Cancer, but there’s a report on the charred wasteland of Tethys in House Virgo. Where the needle city once towered, a crater now gapes like a dark wound, fringed by smoking rubble.
The fire was contained, but the sky is full of ash, shading out the sunlight, and much of the oxygen has burned away. Zodai predict a bitter winter on the planet’s surface. Years of grain harvests will fail, causing universal food shortages. All survivors have been evacuated to Virgo’s lesser planets, where the main problem now is overcrowding. Empress Moira remains in critical care.
Virgo’s cries still echo in my head when we return to the front desk to check with Hysan.
“They’ve finally agreed to contact your representative. Ambassador Sirna is on her way.” His verdant eyes narrow on mine. “What is it?”
“What isn’t it?”
“We’re still around to bemoan our state, my lady.” His lips hitch into his crooked smirk. “So that’s something.” No matter how dark the circumstances, Hysan can always find the light. It’s my favorite thing he does.
When she arrives, the sight of Sirna’s Cancrian face warms me like a hug. She’s in her thirties, with dark hair, ebony skin, and sea-blue eyes, and she’s wearing Cancrian formal attire: a long, flowing skirt coupled with a coat that bears the four sacred silver moons. But up close, I realize she’s not smiling. “Honored Guardian, we meet at last.”
We exchange hand touches, and after I introduce my friends, she says, “Your long silence perplexes us. We don’t understand your presence here when our people need you so desperately at home.”
I open my mouth, but Mathias interrupts. “Ambassador, there’s no place our Holy Mother would rather be than home. She’s come here with an urgent message for all the Houses.”
“The same message your classmate has been spreading?” Sirna’s eyes sharpen. “We’ve seen the video she’s sent to all the news outlets. We know your band is touring school campuses and using their performances as a cover to spread rumors about the childhood monster Ochus and win you more followers. Do you intend to incite hysteria? With all the suffering in our House, would you use our tragedy to promote your personal cult?”
I’m so astounded by the accusation that I can barely take my next breath, much less compose an answer. Hysan cuts in, deepening his voice with authority, “Ambassador, your Guardian will address the Plenum. Please arrange this now.”
“Yes, please,” I say, my voice wispy. “It’s vital.”
As much as Sirna might like to, an ambassador can’t refuse a direct order from her Guardian. Sirna talks to the clerks, and somehow they manage to squeeze me into today’s schedule. I’ll speak in less than two hours. Even though we just won a small victory, it doesn’t feel that way.
Once the arrangements are made, Hysan says, “I have to meet the Libran representative. I will see you at the Plenum, my lady.” He bows and takes off, and I can’t tell if his lack of eye contact is intentional, or if he’s just preoccupied.
Sirna escorts us to her office on a lower level beneath the giant sphere. “You can wait here,” she says. “I have other duties.”
“What’s the latest news from Cancer?” I ask.
“Worse every day.” With a curt goodbye, Sirna takes off to a committee meeting, leaving me standing there, gaping at her words and easy cruelty.
Her basement office is chilly and sterile, with scarce furniture. There are two benches, a desk, and a saltwater aquarium. Two soldiers stand guard outside the door. Mathias sweeps the place for surveillance tech. “It’s not secure,” he whispers. “There’s at least a dozen brands of spy devices in this room alone.”
“So we won’t talk.” I watch the miniature seahorses in the aquarium, then sit down on one of Sirna’s hard steel benches. “I’m going to think of what to tell the Plenum. You should find your parents and let them know where we are.”
He frowns. He never smiles anymore. “I’d rather not leave you alone.”
“Go,” I say. “We said we’d check in with them. I’ll wait until you’re back to get into trouble.”
With a reluctant grunt, he leaves, promising to be back right away. A little later, and with barely a sound, the door eases open, and Sirna returns, signaling silence before I can speak.
She touches a blue, clam-shaped brooch pinned on her collar, just at the base of her throat, and when it flashes, I realize it’s her Wave. Next, she takes a silver ball from her sleeve and tosses it up in the air. The ball sprouts wings and flies around the room, whining like a sand flea.
“My office is always being watched,” she whispers. “But this scrambler can blind prying eyes for a few minutes.”
She watches the little scrambler buzz around the room. Then her quick blue eyes roll back to me. “Why did you desert our House, Guardian?”
Her question feels like a slap, and her ferocious expression makes me feel like a little girl again. “You’d better have an answer ready,” she says, “because many here will ask.”
I try to infuse my voice with authority, the way Hysan did when he spoke to her earlier. “You know why I’ve come.”
“I know the ring of moon rubble has changed our ocean tides,” says Sirna, almost hissing the words at me. “We’re seeing massive dislocations. The marine food chain is breaking down at every level. There were further shifts to the planet’s core. More tsunamis. We’ve had to start evacuations . . . planet-wide.”
Her last word stands out in the sea of blankness of my mind.
Planet-wide.
I left Cancer to save the Zodiac . . . and now my home is dying.
“Only our largest cities are still above water. Our islands and low-lying communities have been drowned.”
“W-what about my family?”
“Your family? I hope you’re referring to the entire population, Holy Mother. As Guardian, you’re Mother to all Cancrians, or did you forget?” She exhales loudly and stares at the scrambler, pursing her lips.
My heartbeat is suspended in her silence.
In a milder voice, she says, “Your father and brother are missing. I’m sorry, Guardian.”
27
MISSING?
I’d just recovered them. I didn’t even get to see them when they were found—how can they be lost again?
My heart feels like it’s doubled in size, and my ribs can barely contain it. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep the tears back because I don’t want to give Sirna more reasons to look down on me. But the biggest thing fueling my journey was the fact that Dad and Stanton were alive. I couldn’t have found the strength to leave Cancer, to draw Ochus away, if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes that my family was safe.
How can home ever be home without them?
I feel the way I did my first night on Oceon 6: bereft, Centerless, alone. Like once again, I’m being asked to give more than I have left. Only this time, it’s not just Cancer at stake. It’s the whole Zodiac.
“We have a la
rger problem,” says Sirna, as though my family were just a bullet point on a long list of items. “Did Crius inform you of my duties here?”
I blink a few times, letting the pain fill me a little longer, and Nishi’s words come back to me: It’s okay to feel your pain before walling it off.
The thought of her makes me almost smile, and it reminds me that she hasn’t given up. She hasn’t gone home to see her family, even though there’s trouble now on Sagittarius, too. She’s still out there, still fighting for me. For our cause. For our world.
I can’t fall apart now.
“You’re our ambassador,” I say, straightening in my seat, my voice steady and brisk. I haven’t heard myself sound this way before. “You represent our interests at the Plenum.”
Sirna seems to consider the change in me before speaking again. “Then Crius didn’t tell you.” She crosses her arms with a frown. “I’ll have to educate you myself. But first, you’ll swear on your Mother’s life never to reveal what I’m about to say.”
“I swear.”
She leans close and whispers, “I oversee a group of agents in the Cancrian Secret Service. My agents have uncovered information about a clandestine army gathering on the Aeriean planet Phobos.”
The thought of Cancrian spies is still more funny than interesting, and I don’t have time to worry about a gang of humans speaking surreptitiously when there’s an immortal Guardian bent on our destruction. “I don’t know anything about an army. My goal is to warn the Plenum about Ophiuchus.”
“Oh, grow up!” she shouts, springing to her feet. I jump up, too, and we both glare into each other’s faces. “You’ll find an army can be a hell of a lot more destructive than a children’s-book monster,” she growls.
“Then I hope you never have to meet that monster face to face, Ambassador.”
I blast out of the room, banging the door shut behind me.
• • •