Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(60)

At last, she looks up. She eyes me closely as we trade the hand touch. Then she sits at the table and continues browsing her Perfectionary. “Go on.”

I sit down, too, and I tell her my theory that all the recent disasters have been triggered by Psy attacks from Ophiuchus.

I can’t believe it’s possible, but Moira becomes even more emotionless. “You speak of myth. The Zodiac holds only twelve Houses.”

“Well, that’s what I thought, too.” Once again, I narrate my account of Ophiuchus, and even I see how meager the evidence sounds. I describe how the Dark Matter thickened around Virgo, how the entire region around her House went black, but all I have are words, ordinary words. If only I could make Moira feel the terror that shook my bones when Ochus appeared in my Ephemeris.

“He tried to kill me. He wants to silence me.” I’m practically wringing my hands.

Moira keeps her eyes on her Perfectionary. When I finish my tale, she says, “We’ve seen your Sagittarian comrade’s warnings of doom in the news. Such alarmist talk may appeal to the young, but not to me. And when I learned Hysan Dax escorted you here, I thought perhaps there was more to your story—he usually has more sense than this.”

I blink. Alarmist talk?

She taps her Perfectionary. “Has any other Zodai confirmed your sighting of this alleged Dark Matter past the Twelfth House?”

I bow my head a fraction. “Not that I know of.”

“And has anyone in recorded history ever witnessed a Psy attack like the one you’re describing? Or seen Ophiuchus?”

“I . . . I’m not sure.”

“They have not.” She gives me a quick scowl, then turns away. “What’s your age?”

“I’m sixteen, galactic standard. I’ll be seventeen in a few . . . days.” I’d gotten used to saying weeks.

“And how long have you trained?”

“Not long,” I admit.

Moira sighs and really looks at me. “Mother Origene was my dearest friend. It pains me how your House has suffered. For these reasons, I will spare a moment to show you that there is no monster in the Psy. Afterward I hope you will return home to lead your people.”

She gives a quick series of voice commands to darken the glass wall and dim the lights. A small device lowers from the ceiling. It looks like a metal spider. When I understand what it is, I gasp—it’s transforming the entire conference room into an Ephemeris.

“No!” I shout.

As soon as the room is drowned in stars, Dark Matter pulses out from the heart of Virgo, and I hear a screeching noise, like the shrieking that came from my black opal. For a moment, I can only stare, petrified.

Moira stands and looks around, her gaze crinkled, as if she hears the psychic disturbance but it doesn’t overpower her as it does me. “The Psy has been unsteady since the disaster on House Cancer,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

She points to the Triple Virgin constellation. “On Virgo, as I’m sure you know, we have our own version of the Ophiuchus myth. Here, he’s represented as a serpent who tempts Aeroth and Evandria, a virtuous Virgo couple who stray off the pure gardening path. He leads them into temptation. Yet in all my years as Guardian, I have never seen a shred of evidence to prove Ophiuchus is or ever was real. Now show me his Thirteenth House, if you can.”

“He’ll see us!” I scream, once I’ve regained my voice. “Please, shut this down!” I leap to my feet and reach for the projector, but it’s too high.

“You’re being absurd.” She moves away as if I might infect her with my lunacy.

“Empress Moira, trust me. You don’t want to draw his attention. He’s . . .”

Moira’s not listening. She’s staring into her Ephemeris, transfixed.

I start to shout, “Turn it off—!”

But a voice like a hurricane is already blasting through my mind. There you are, Empress Moira. I’ve long been savoring the thought of this day.





23


THE PHANTOM BILLOWS INTO THE ROOM, a man-shaped wind devil, overturning chairs and whipping Moira’s clothes. Half tempest, half glacial frost, he whirls around Moira and almost lifts her off her feet.

Whispers echo from every corner of the room, the words swimming through the air we’re breathing. Virgin Empress . . . first-order master of the Psy . . . so meticulous in all your dealings.

“What are you?” Moira tries to push him away, but he constricts around her with suffocating force.

I’ve prepared some entertainment for you, Empress. Today, you will watch your House fracture and fade . . . as I watched mine.

She squirms and thrashes, her face going gray with shock.

Don’t struggle so hard, teases Ochus. I want you very much alive to see my little show.

“Let go of her!” I yell.

Ochus’s stormy face shifts toward me, and his features harden to glaring ice. It’s not your turn right now.

Moira’s lips are blue. “Leave her alone!” I shout.

With a malevolent smile, he releases Moira and moves toward me. Foolish child, you think you’re brave.

I edge backward, but he’s too fast. His icy hands reach for my throat. “Get away,” I moan, punching wildly.

Trust Only What You Can Touch, Acolyte, he taunts, gripping my throat. Can you feel me? Am I trustworthy?