Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(31)
“Mathias,” I say, “what’s the plan for the freshwater supply House Aquarius sent?”
He pauses before he speaks, fusing with the Psy. These past few days, I’ve just begun to realize how much activity goes on behind his quiet face. “All freshwater stores are being diverted to our refugee camps.”
I look at Mother Lea, knowing she’s not going to like what I’m about to say. “I’m sorry about the sea oats, but for the time being, we have to adapt. What can we grow in salty ground?”
Her face is just about to explode when Crius bangs his hand on the table, and I jump a foot in the air.
“Honored Guardian,” he says, his gruff tone not fully masking his fear, “we have an emergency.”
Mathias and my Advisors rise, and as I stand to join them, I see the anger in Mother Lea’s eyes turn to despair. While the others march off, I stay back and say, “Save your seed, Mother Lea. Keep it dry for later. We’ll miss this season, but we’ll plant sea oats again. Don’t lose hope.” I know it’s not what she wants to hear, but good fortune is hard to come by these days.
I race down the hall after the others, the train of the white dress whipping behind me, and when I get to the door of the lecture hall where we hold our Advisor meetings, Mathias is waiting. “Before we go in,” he says, “I need to tell you something. I received a message tonight, while you were meeting with representatives from the Houses. I know the timing is terrible, and I should probably wait, but I also know you would want to hear this news immediately.”
Instead of speaking, he closes his eyes. At first I think he’s doing it to be dramatic, and I nearly throttle him, but then my Ring grows warm, and I close my eyes, too. A picture forms in my mind, an image of people not on Oceon 6.
Dad is standing in front of our wrecked bungalow on Kalymnos, his clothes tattered. And beside him, wearing a glorious grin that’s completely at odds with the destruction, is Stanton.
I love the image so much that I don’t want to open my eyes, not ever again. I look for so long that something starts to feel wrong: my knees are rubbery, the floor is wobbly, and everything’s spinning—
When I’m back on reality, Mathias’s hands are on my waist. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shocked you like that—”
“Mathias,” I whisper, the tears now freely streaming down my face, washing off the makeup and the nightmares and the days and nights of worrying. “Thank you.”
His indigo eyes grow so dark they’re almost violet. “Your brother wasn’t on Thebe. He was visiting your father, and they were both rescued at sea.”
Without thinking, I hug him. He hugs me back, and when I pull away, he’s smiling. I haven’t seen a smile on his face until now. It softens his features, making him look like the boy he used to be, the one I used to dream about finally being brave enough to talk to one day.
I just never imagined one day looking like this.
“Can I Wave them?” I ask.
“I doubt they still have their Waves, and even if they did, the grid isn’t up yet—but I’m trying to find a way.”
The door to the lecture hall opens, and Admiral Crius barks, “Get in!” Mathias and I scramble inside.
“Let’s consult the black opal,” says Agatha the moment we’ve joined them. Mathias hands it to me from his suit pocket, and I feel the ridges along its side, until I see the Bull forming in my mind. House Taurus.
The star map blooms out, filling the room with wispy, flickering lights. As soon as I step into its holographic glow, I lock my eyes on Cancer to reach my Center. The Ring makes it easier, thanks to the Abyssthe in its core, and soon music notes fill the solar system. Radiant gases, luminous dust, asteroids, quasars, ethereal clusters of fire. I look around, to the place beyond the Twelfth House. The Dark Matter is still there, pulsing.
“We received a message from House Pisces,” says Crius. “They’ve spotted a portent in the stars. An urgent warning for Cancer about more storms on the way. But it’s indistinct, and they’re asking us to confirm.”
“Of course, the message could be counterfeit,” Agatha points out. “The Psy is not always reliable.”
“Tell us what you see. We trust your skills have been improving, thanks to your Zodai training,” says Crius, though I don’t hear much trust in his tone.
I think back to my conversation with Nishi. I know what telling the truth will cost me—maybe even more now than I did a few hours ago—but I’ve taken an oath to place Cancer’s life ahead of my own. Staying silent would be cowardly. I need to find the truth: Our survival depends on it.
“Ophiuchus,” I say. “I see Dark Matter in the Thirteenth House, the constellation Ophiuchus.”
10
FOUR SETS OF EYES STARE at me like I’ve gone crazy.
Mathias speaks first. “It’s a myth. A story handed down for so many generations it became the source of the Cancrian children’s monster, Ochus.” He sounds like he’s repeating what someone’s whispering to him in the Psy. “The constellation was said to take the shape of a snake.”
“His other names are Ophius,” I say, “and Serpent, and 13 . . .”
“So you’re blaming the Zodiac’s boogeyman?” Dr. Eusta grunts impatiently and turns away. “Oh, good, and we just made her Guardian.”