Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(49)

Mathias found out we can access it by speaking the word tome. At the sound of that trigger, the helm projects a horizontal ring of glittering lavender light. It’s about head high and two meters in diameter, so Mathias and I can both stand inside it.

We ask it a series of questions about Psynergy, but it mostly spews back things Mathias already taught me. None of its answers help us form any theories about how the Psy attack on the ship—or moons—was possible. So after a while, I try something else.

“Tome,” I say in the crown’s ring of light, “how does a Psy shield work?”

This is the first time the crown has no answer. Its ethereal voice responds, “Insufficient data.”

“Is Hysan Dax a spy?” asks Mathias.

“Insufficient data.”

“Is the Libran censoring what you tell us?” he growls.

“Insufficient data.”

I leave the circle of light. “Mathias, turn that thing off.”

“Let’s try another neutral question,” he says. “Tome, who are the most respected experts on the Psy?”

“Good one.” I go back in and watch the answer materialize inside the lavender ring. Tome displays a miniature 3-D image of a glowing spiral ladder shaped like a double helix. On its rungs stand seven shining figures. They look like tiny celestial beings on a stairway, and nametags glow over each of their heads.

On the top rung, of course, stands Empress Moira of Virgo, our Zodiac’s preeminent Psy master. The image standing on the rung just below her is far too familiar. It’s our own Mother Origene. I bite my lip. “This list is outdated.”

When Mathias sees Origene, he sucks air through his teeth. As a member of the Royal Guard, he probably knew her better than most. On an impulse, I reach out and stroke his arm. “You miss home as much as I do,” I say, halfway between question and statement.

He glances at the ladder of scholars again. “Alerting the other Houses is the honorable thing to do . . . but every hour we travel at hyperspeed, two hours pass on Cancer.”

“I hate not knowing what’s happening there.”

“Me too.” He unzips a pocket and takes out his antique Astralator. The mother-of-pearl glimmers softly in the ghostly light. After a moment, he presses it into my hand. “I want you to have this.”

I jump back like he’s offering me a weapon. “I couldn’t. Mathias, this was your sister’s. I could never take it from you.”

“It’s tradition for a Zodai mentor to give his student a gift when she’s mastered her studies. Mastered is an understatement when it comes to you. So much was thrust on your shoulders . . . and you’ve been incredible.” He takes my hand, his eyes bright in the lavender light. “The gift is traditionally an Ephemeris, but that will have to wait until we get home. For now, it would mean a lot if you’d accept this.”

“Mathias,” I whisper, an aching in my chest, “thank you, but it’s too much.”

He puts the device in my hand and closes my fingers around it, like flower petals protecting pollen. “This Astralator has been in my family for generations. It’s become a good luck charm. My older sister gave it to me when I became a Zodai.”

A slight crease forms between his eyebrows, and he takes his hands away, leaving the Astralator with me. “We each have our cares, Rho . . . but you and I, we can’t succumb to individual grief.”

Understanding what he’s saying, I take the Astralator. “Spoken like a true Zodai,” I whisper.

When I slip it into my pocket, I promise myself I’m just holding on to it. If Mathias feels better knowing I have it, I’ll keep it for now. But I’m giving it back to him when we’re home.

He combs his long fingers through his hair, looking more troubled than I’ve seen him. “An enemy from the Thirteenth House,” he says, like he’s considering my words for the first time. “It still sounds irrational, but the Psy attack on our ship was real. Something’s happening that I can’t explain.”

“You’re not alone.”

“I’ve been trying to put it together, but nothing fits.”

For a minute, we drift into our separate trains of thought. I wonder if I’m wrong to worry so much about my family and friends. My job is to protect all Cancrian people, but my brain doesn’t work well with big numbers. It works well with faces. Names. Memories.

Whenever I worry about my world, I don’t picture millions of unfamiliar people. I see a House of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends. Dad, Stanton, Deke, Kai, Leyla, Lola . . . those are the faces I see.

“Tome, tell us about the Guardian of Libra,” says Mathias. The teaching crown’s light marbles with rainbows, and images of a white-haired, cold-eyed man begin to materialize. I hear a noise behind me and turn to see Hysan.

“Busted,” I whisper to Mathias.

“I see you’ve met Tome.”

Mathias turns to Hysan. “Is that a problem?”

“If it were, you wouldn’t have gained access, I assure you.”

Here we go.

“Hysan, it was my idea,” I say, hoping to avoid another spat. “I just wanted to prepare a little before meeting your Guardian.”

“My lady, Lord Neith will be pleased. I came to tell you Libra’s in sight. We’ll be landing soon.”