Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(56)

And cooking. Turns out he’s a decent chef. I only wish I had more of an appetite, but I can’t stop worrying. We checked the newsfeeds before we left Hysan’s court, but the commentators only talked about a new pirate attack in Space. Armed assailants hijacked a fleet of Taurian frigates and abducted all the crew members. No one knows the motive.

The only good news is that Hysan downloaded the hologram Nishi sent around to all the Houses. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, alone, projecting the message from a small device Hysan handed me.

When it starts, it looks like a recording of Drowning Diamonds performing our most popular song on campus, “Across the Zodiac.” But a few seconds in, I have to rewind it to be sure of what I’m hearing.

The visuals are definitely from a performance we put on a few months ago at the university. It was our first paid gig—two Zodai instructors were getting married, and they hired us to play. But the song lyrics are not the same.



When the Zodiac was new

There was a thirteenth star

The first among us knew

But in time we forgot



Now the serpent, he is back

And we must find a way

To push his presence out

Or he’ll be here to stay

When she gets to the chorus, Nishi belts out my name, and I cover my face with my hands, even though no one else is in here.



Trust in Guardian Rho

She’s our galaxy’s best chance

She’ll make Ochus go

He’ll forget his plans



I can’t believe what Nishi’s done.

Like always, she’s bold and brilliant—I only wish she hadn’t told the Zodiac I’m our best chance. All I’ve been doing is running around sounding an alarm. That’s not making Ochus go. . . . It’s just making a lot of noise.

I watch the film a few more times. The new lyrics are actually pretty catchy. After a while, I feel reinvigorated, and I access the ship’s Tome. There must be something in here about Ophiuchus, maybe in the older stuff.

An hour later, most of what I’ve found says the same thing. How our early forebears believed the sun’s core held a gateway to a mirror universe, one they called Empyrean. According to the scrolls, the gateway to Empyrean was cursed. If anyone tried to pass through, the two universes would collapse and annihilate each other.

To prevent a catastrophic collapse, the original Guardians sealed the gateway after the last people from Earth came through. There’s evidence our ancestors colonized Aries first, before spreading to the other eleven Houses. Over the millennia, the gateway drifted into the fog of legend, and that’s where our Cancrian burial tradition of ceremonially launching a body into the sun comes from.

There’s no mention of the Thirteenth House. I speed through a different text about conflicts in the Zodiac. Mostly it’s the same old story about the Trinary Axis. A millennium ago, three Houses formed a conspiracy and triggered a hundred-years war that engulfed the entire galaxy. Vicious atrocities raged back and forth, all too horrible to imagine.

Since then, the Zodiac has lived in peace, and each House has evolved its own systems and traditions. Instead of watching over a mythical gateway, our Guardians now focus on reading the stars to improve the management of their worlds and promote trade. I go back to the kitchen and play the song again.

When Caasy comes in to eat something, I punch the off button so hard I slam the device on the table, like I’m killing a water-fly.

I make up an excuse to go, and as I’m leaving, I distinctly hear Caasy hum, “Trust in Guardian Rho. . . . She’s our galaxy’s best chance. . . .”

I don’t play the song again.

? ? ?

The next morning, I wake up anxious to meet Moira. As I change into my Zodai suit and fix my hair, I try to think of a more convincing way of relaying my warning. So far, I haven’t been very successful.

Moira is a Guardian-empress. She rules all of Virgo. It sounds unnatural to me, since we Cancrians value consensus so much, but she’s beloved on Virgo—and even among the other Houses. She’s one of the most venerable Zodai in the Zodiac.

Moira’s is a benevolent dictatorship. She is a passive monarch who allows her people to police themselves and only interferes when cases are brought before her.

Given their controlling natures, Virgos find it impossible to submit to someone else’s command. So Moira ensures that every household has access to food, water, housing, and education, but she allows her people to make their own decisions about all other aspects of their lives. She has only two commands: Everyone must contribute in some capacity to growing grain, and no Virgo will interfere with the pursuit of happiness of any other.

I’m standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the ripped pocket of my suit so that it’s not as noticeable, when there’s a knock on my compartment.

“Your gentleman-in-waiting, my lady.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and as I reach for the door, I spy my expression in the mirror’s reflection. I’m so startled by the sudden flush in my cheeks and brightness in my eyes that I hesitate—it’s scary how someone I’ve just met can change so much about me, from my mood to my physical appearance.

When I open the door, Hysan scans me up and down, and a light flashes from the golden bloom in his eye.

“Did you just take a picture?”