Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(47)



The Geminin Guardian and I are in Equinox’s galley, talking over glass vials of hot tea. We left House Gemini an hour ago, and after a fight in which Hysan and Mathias nearly resorted to martial arts, we’re traveling at top speed toward House Libra.

We had to strike this compromise because, after all, we’re on Hysan’s ship, and he’s frantic to alert his own House. At least he trusts my warning.

He promised me the detour would be brief. Caaseum—Caasy—doesn’t seem to care where we go. He’s treating this like an adventure. Mathias is holed up in his quarters meditating, and Hysan’s at the helm. This is the first moment I’ve had alone with Caasy.

“Dear Mother, tell me again why we can’t use your black opal. I think you’re overstating the risk.”

“Just trust me. It’s a rule.”

I used to hate when people said things like that to me. But Caasy knows why we’re flying dark. I’ve already explained our situation three times, yet he keeps going back to it. At first I thought his lapses in understanding were genuine, but now I think he’s toying with me in more ways than I realized.

At least he promised not to use his Tattoo when he got on the ship, and since Hysan has the Psynergy shield up, he won’t be able to access the Psy even if he tries. So far, Caasy hasn’t noticed. I hope it stays that way.

“So what are you certain of?” I ask again, trying to keep my impatience from slipping out with my words. He munches on a sweet biscuit. I tug my plush yellow hood around my ears and pretend I don’t want to reach out and smash that cookie in his face.

I dropped my space suit and the blue Zodai uniform in the refresher to clean them in time for our next stop. In the meantime, Hysan lent me a hooded Libran uniform. It’s as soft as a blanket, and its smart fabric actually senses my body temperature and thickens when I get cold. I’ve never worn anything like it.

Caasy takes a sip of tea from his vial, and when he’s run out of ways to drag the moment out longer, he says, “You have been singled out, but not by the one you think.”

I frown. “It’s Ophiuchus. Trust me. I discovered who he is, and he wants to shut me up.”

“Possibly.” Caasy sips more tea. “But I sense you are being deceived. That deception hangs over you larger than anything else. If it is not Ophiuchus who is deceiving you, then you must find out who is. Until then, this deception will cloud your judgment.”

I think about this new piece of the puzzle, turning it around and around in my head, like I’m trying to find the right orientation to make it fit everything else I know. I’m deceived—by whom? Someone close to me?

Immediately the faces of Mathias and Hysan come to mind. I don’t believe one of them is against me. They’ve been saving my life this whole time. I stare at the youthful old face before me, and suddenly something else occurs to me. He’s been having a lot of fun at my expense; couldn’t this be Caasy taking things too far?

“I don’t think I’m deceived,” I say decidedly.

“Of course, Mother. You wouldn’t! That’s how the best deceptions work!” He laughs at his own joke. Then, maybe seeing my good humor’s been depleted with his games, he leans in and says, “Deception does not have to be as sinister as what you imagine. Consider this: Perhaps you are deceived in that you think Ochus is the one hunting you . . . when in fact, someone else is pulling his strings.”

With that, Caasy stands up. His curls bounce like copper coils, and his chin dimples. “We’ll be doing our slingshot soon, and I wouldn’t dare miss it. Every close flyby of Helios gives me a sensory charge.”

His words remind me of the course Hysan has charted to take us from Gemini, the Third House, to distant Libra, the Seventh. Since we’re in a hurry, we’ll do a slingshot around our galactic sun and use its gravity to boost our speed. Hysan says we’ll cut as close as possible without setting ourselves on fire. It’s unnerving—but thrilling. I can’t wait to see my first close-up view of Helios.

I stay seated a while, thinking about what Caasy said. I don’t like the idea of someone more powerful than Ophiuchus out there. Maybe that’s not the deception.

Even though I have a ton to prepare for, I feel homesick. Stepping on foreign soil made me think of the last time I set foot on Cancer. And since I can’t concentrate on anything else, I search for the thing on this ship that brings me closest to home.

Equinox is small, so I don’t have far to go. “Mathias?” I knock on his round metal door. “Can we talk?”

When he opens it, he’s shirtless and holding a stretch band. Droplets of sweat cling to his hair, and his chest is swelling in and out like he’s been exerting himself. His body is so smooth and sculpted that soon the homesickness is replaced with fantasies of what his skin would feel like if I touched it.

When he pulls on his blue Cancrian tunic, I look up.

“I can loan you the band if you want some exercise,” he offers.

“Thanks, maybe later.” The way he eyes my Libran uniform makes me wish I hadn’t put it on.

I edge a little farther into his cabin, which is as narrow and cramped as mine. It’s chrome green, and there’s a sleeping cocoon, a few storage bins, and a desk that folds down on hinges. Unlike my cabin, though, his is neat and tidy, without a single item strewn on the floor. “Caasy just told me what he saw in the stars. He says I’m being deceived somehow. He thinks someone else is pulling Ochus’s strings.”

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