Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(20)

I want to speak, but there’s something monstrous in my throat, and I’m afraid of releasing it.

Unlike her older sister, Leyla’s red curls are pulled away from her face, exposing a pair of round sapphire eyes. She seems to understand what I need and says, “Lola, let’s let Holy Mother rest.”

They bow to me, and as their dresses swoosh past, I smell a hint of the Cancer Sea in the folds of their fabric. “Can I see my friends?” I whisper, my voice a hoarse rasp.

Lola’s already in the hallway, but Leyla’s on the threshold, so she hears me. She turns her sapphire eyes to mine and says, “I’m so sorry, Holy Mother. We are under directions to keep you isolated and protected until the threat is identified.”

She’s just confirming what I already know.

I’m alone.

When the door shuts, I look around the room. I must be in the sleeping quarters of the top-ranking Lodestar posted on Oceon 6. There’s a bed in one corner, a private bathroom, and a desk that’s been converted into a makeshift vanity for me. I should use this time to shower, find clean clothes. I should be trying to unlock the stars’ secrets in the black opal, to figure out how to keep our people safe.

But this room is too empty.

It doesn’t have my toothbrush or my drumsticks or the exotic seashells Dad used to bring me back from his dives to the seafloor.

I’m empty.

I’m being asked to give everything, when I have nothing left.

I curl into a ball on the bed. Then I bury my face in a pillow, and I let the monster out.

? ? ?

By the time I’m done crying, my eyes are mere slits. I’m still in my compression suit because it’s so tight-fitting that I couldn’t squeeze a shirt and shorts underneath.

I undo my messy ponytail and pull my hair up into a large puff that sits on my head, like a rat’s nest. I don’t care how I look. I don’t care if I’m proving I’m not Guardian material. I didn’t ask for any of this.

There’s a knock on my door. “Come in!” I call eagerly, shooting up from bed. If anyone can work her way around rules, it’s Nishi.

I’m so thrilled to see her, I throw my arms around her neck the moment she comes through the door. “Nish, I knew you’d—oh!” I pull away quick, like I’ve touched something scalding.

In fact, what I touched was Lodestar Mathias Thais.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, every part of me burning with Helios’s heat. “I just—I mean, excuse me.” I spin around and press my hands to my cheeks, trying to cool down and hide my mortification. It’s not helping that my mind keeps replaying the moment on a loop. Or that my skin still tingles from our close contact.

“Don’t apologize,” he says softly. When I turn back around, his face is as scarlet as mine.

“I’ve been sent to deliver a message. Admiral Crius has transmitted the candidates for your Council of Advisors to your Wave.”

My Wave.

I frantically dig my fingers into the pocket of my suit and pull out my gloves, my Wave, and—“Your Astralator!”

I give the mother-of-pearl device to Mathias, who cups it in his hands like it’s a small bird. “Thank you.”

I open my Wave and try hailing Dad and Stanton. There’s still no connection. I try Nishi’s Tracker next, but the signal seems to be scrambled so that it’s impossible to communicate with anyone. I have a feeling Crius is behind this—and I’m betting his justification is my protection.

“Once you’ve selected your twelve Advisors,” says Mathias, as though there’d been no interruption, “you must designate one as your—”

“Guide, I know,” I say, shutting off my Wave. Mom’s lessons were thorough, at least. “When a Guardian younger than twenty-two is selected, she must have a Guide who can train her in the ways of the Zodai.”

He falls silent.

Then I say, “I want you.”

His face flushes all over again, and—realizing how that sounded—I quickly add, “To be my Guide!”

I’ve never seen a face go from red to white so fast. Something flares in Mathias’s eyes, like shock—or worse, refusal. He looks straight ahead, not meeting my gaze, and says, “One of the more experienced Advisors would be a better choice. I’m new to the Royal Guard, unqualified to teach you.”

“Then we’ll make a perfect pair, since I’m unqualified to lead.”

“I still have a lot to learn about being an Advisor. It would be best if we each found our own mentors.”

“Mathias.” At the sound of his name, his eyes travel down to mine. For a moment I can almost kid myself that we’re bickering about an afterschool group and not the leadership of our House.

I take an uncertain step toward him. “We’re running out of familiar faces. I’m only asking for your help. And . . . if you can spare it, your friendship.”

He bows. “As you wish, Holy M—”

“What I wish,” I say loudly, before he can finish, “is that you use my name. Rho.” If Mathias ever calls me Mother, I will die.

“Rho?” he repeats, like it’s a dirty word.

“I’m sorry you don’t like it,” I say, crossing my arms. “But I called you Mathias and not Lodestar when you asked me to.”