Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(75)
The faces of Sirna, Dr. Eusta, and Mathias all seem to be swimming in my head, their words making me hesitate.
Am I wrong to insist on honor when we’re dealing with an enemy who has none? Ophiuchus is manipulating people, pretending he doesn’t exist—would it be so bad if I manipulated as well, blamed Sirna’s army or some other boogeyman for the bloodshed? Isn’t that the point of the children’s-book monster after all—to be scapegoat for a bigger evil?
What I need is for the Zodiac to unite. Regardless of what name I give him, there’s still someone out there after us, and the ship’s logs documenting a Psy attack prove at least that much. When Moira awakens, she can tell them it’s Ophiuchus, and I’ll back her then.
“I’ve come to warn you,” I say, a slight tremble in my voice. I clear my throat and put more force behind my words. “Every House in the Zodiac is in danger.”
There’s an edgy stirring in the audience, and I glance overhead, waiting for Ochus to strike. When nothing happens, I stiffen my shaky knees and start my story by counting off all the recent natural disasters in the newsfeeds, sharing my theory that they’re part of a pattern, and then insisting they were triggered by someone who’s manipulating Psynergy to control Dark Matter.
A louder hum of protests begins. As I watch people’s faces, any words of a Thirteenth House turn to sand in my mouth.
Then I flash back to the Strider and the bubbles breaking the sea’s surface. I see the gray light of Thebe flickering in the Ephemeris. If I’m not brave enough to speak now, I’ll be like one of the Guardians in Mom’s Ochus story—too afraid to believe in my fears.
Agatha’s blessing comes back to me: May your inner light always shine, and may it guide us through our darkest nights.
I think this is exactly the kind of moment she was referring to. The darkness shrouding our galaxy is growing so thick, it’s getting hard to tell right from wrong—even for our leaders. Agatha advised me to stay true to my Cancrian values, even—or especially—when the temptation to do what’s easy over what’s right feels greatest. And now I know what I’ve come to say.
“Some of you will not want to believe me, but I beg you to have open minds. Everything I am about to tell you can be confirmed by Empress Moira, as soon as she recovers. There is a part of our galaxy that has been hidden from us, I don’t know how or for how long. The Thirteenth House isn’t just a fable we tell our children—it’s a real constellation, just past Pisces. A House called Ophiuchus.”
The audience stirs like a nest of sea spiders, and the ambassadors whisper among themselves. But I’m not finished. “Its original Guardian was exiled, condemned to immortality in the darkest reaches of space. And now he’s returned to the Zodiac for revenge.”
I start describing how he felt solid in the Psy, and I have to raise my voice to speak over the audience. I rap the lectern with my knuckles, but no one seems to hear. Finally, Hysan stands and yells, “Quiet! Let her speak.”
I catch his eye and nod my gratitude. He smiles at me, and for a moment I see the same teenage guy who was in the sea of representatives at my swearing-in ceremony. He didn’t know me then, but still he had my back.
When the audience settles down, I say, “Ophiuchus must be stopped. We can only do that if we quit arguing among ourselves and come together to form a plan.”
More people are entering the arenasphere now, people from all corners of the Zodiac. The seats are filling up, and the noise level rises. A dozen more tiny cameras buzz around me. Word of my speech must have spread already, so I keep talking, as loud as my lungs will allow.
“If this enemy can damage a House as wealthy and powerful as Virgo, no one’s safe. Our only chance is to band together.”
“Rho! Rho! Trust in Guardian Rho!”
A dozen noisy people push their way in. They look like university students, and one of them waves a holographic banner with a picture of me behind my drums. They’re marching down the aisle, shouting my name.
My stomach plummets. I know the youth vote will only hurt me with these ambassadors.
Albor Echus calls for order, and a couple of soldiers force the rowdy students to leave. When the arenasphere quiets down, it takes me a minute to regain my composure.
The blade-faced man, Charon of Scorpio, lifts the long speaker’s staff in his hands, signaling that he wants the floor. As he rises, a profound hush falls. He radiates a kind of magnetism even I can feel.
“My dear Rhoma.” His voice has a greasy thickness. “How sweet of you to come all this way to read us stories, when your people must surely need you at home. How long have you held your position? A week?”
“Almost three, Ambassador. But we’ve been traveling at hyperspeed, so my calendar’s a little mixed up.”
“And when exactly did you complete your Zodai training?”
“In between attacks from Ophiuchus, under the training of my Guide and Advisor Lodestar Mathias Thais.” I smile at him. “Anything else?”
“Yes, dear girl, there is. I’m old and a little hard of hearing, so forgive me, but did you just spend half an hour telling us your House was attacked by the boogeyman?”
People burst out laughing, and Charon’s thin lips curl into a smile, his eyes far from friendly.
“I believe I said Ophiuchus.”