Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(19)
Admiral Crius shakes his head. “It can’t be.”
“But if it is,” insists Agatha, “that means it’s being manipulated using Psynergy. Only a powerful Zodai could wield Psynergy that way.”
Crius suddenly leans forward, grips my wrist, and glares into my eyes. My whole arm throbs in agony from his crushing hold. He’s checking me for lies. The violence that’s been so close to erupting from him strangles my veins and suffocates my skin, but I refuse to even blink.
“So it’s true,” whispers Agatha when the admiral pulls away from me in defeat.
“Lights on,” he says.
When the room brightens, the Ephemeris still glows, speckling Agatha’s wrinkled face with bits of color. Her lips are moving very fast, and I realize she’s talking through her Ring. Crius whispers hasty notes into his Wave. They glance at each other mysteriously, and each gives the other a slight nod. Then Agatha draws herself upright and smiles at me. “I think we are ready to proceed.”
She takes the opal from my hand and lays it on the table. Instantly, the Ephemeris winks out, and Dr. Eusta’s hologram stops pixilating. Holographic screens start to beam out from Crius’s Wave and hover in the air above us. Each file bears the photo of a uniformed Zodai, but I’m too jittery to read the words.
“Since the beginning of time, our Lodestars have been predicting the birth of each new Potential,” says Agatha, her voice soft and soothing . . . like Mom’s when she’d settle in to tell me a story.
“Your astrological fingerprint is on that long list, and so you are one of the many Potentials we have been watching. By the time you arrived at the Academy, you had already studied everything you could about the Houses of the Zodiac, and it was noted by a few of your instructors that you had a keen interest in our world—and a hunger to learn that could rival a Sagittarian’s. You carried a tutorial Ephemeris in your Wave to read your friends’ futures on your own time, for fun. You even knew Yarrot, something only taught to the most advanced Zodai in our House.
“You worked hard in your classes, and your only difficulty was using the Astralator. What you didn’t realize was that after putting so much work into your Centering technique and spending so much time reading the Ephemeris, you’d become a natural. Like us, you don’t need an Astralator.”
Admiral Crius jumps in before Agatha’s words can sink in, gesturing at the holographic data crowding the air above us. “These files belong to the candidates we’ve selected as Advisors. They will be beamed to your Wave, as well as the surviving members of the Royal Guard. You’ll see one of your comrades on that list, Lodestar Mathias Thais.”
I inhale sharply and turn around, only now remembering that Mathias is here. Even before seeing him, I already feel a rush of relief to have a familiar face nearby.
Except when I look, Mathias isn’t looking back. He’s staring ahead, eyes forward, like he’s determined not to listen to our conversation. His demeanor is completely different from before, when he was drinking in every word, as if the exile in question was his and not mine. I don’t understand what’s changed.
“Lodestar Thais would make a much better Advisor than me, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I blurt.
“Excuse me?” Admiral Crius leans forward, and his expression makes me tremble. “Are you under the impression we want you to be an Advisor?”
“Oh . . . no. Of course not.” Suddenly the thing I want most in the world is to melt into my seat cushion.
Crius stands, and so does Agatha. Dr. Eusta floats over, and all three of them look down at me. “Rhoma Grace,” Crius starts, his tone making me wonder if we’re back on the subject of exile. “Please forgive our cruel methods.”
Then—to my extreme shock—he and the others give me a deep bow.
“The stars revealed a portent that some of us found implausible, but it seems we must accept it. As of today, we honor you as Guardian of the Fourth House, our beloved Cancer.”
7
BEFORE I CAN EVEN REACT, the black opal is thrust into my hands, and I’m ushered out of the room and into the arms of two women waiting outside the door.
I’m half led, half carried along the dim passageways, flanked by the group of officers that met us at the hub when we first landed. I notice Mathias doesn’t come with me this time.
Oceon 6 is a maze of corridors and sealed doors, and by the time we arrive at our destination, I have no idea how we got here. While the women deposit me in a spacious and cold room, the officers stay outside, probably standing guard.
“I’m Lola, your Lady of Robes,” says the taller of the two. She’s wearing a Cancrian-style draped dress in periwinkle blue. It reminds me painfully of home, where wardrobes and architecture cascade and have a watery flow. “And this is Leyla . . . m-my little sister.”
The humanity in her voice is what makes me look up. Lola seems to be about twenty, with a head of thick red curls hiding her small face. Beside her, Leyla smiles shyly, and with a jolt, I realize she’s younger than me. She can’t be more than fourteen.
“I was apprenticed to Mother Origene’s Lady of Robes,” continues Lola, “and I was in the middle of my training when she . . .” Her face pulls together, and she casts her gaze to the floor. When she’s calm, she makes a small bow. “We are green, but we will do our hardest to serve you, Holy Mother.”