Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(96)
By the time they deem me ready, the festival has been under way for an hour. I walk outdoors and see people and holo-ghosts packing the village streets, gathering in front of every embassy, sitting at round tables, dancing, talking, eating, and mingling. The inter-market in the main square has been converted into a free food zone, and the line of people waiting winds around the whole village.
I keep to the bungalow’s shadow and cast my gaze across the black-walled enclosure, trying to spot Hysan or Mathias in the crowd. I hope they have an easier time recognizing me than I do.
Amanta styled my hair in an updo, leaving just a few curls free to frame my face, and Sirna added the silver Cancrian coronet. The dress she picked out for me is a sapphire sheet of satin that curves around my shape like cascading water. It falls a few inches above my knees, and the back dips down to my waist, revealing the slope of my spine.
“Trust in Guardian Rho” by Drowning Diamonds begins blasting from a holographic screen, and I see some university students petting Leo’s lions start cheering and belting the lyrics. Watching the video of my band performing on campus makes me think of the Lunar Quadract. I can almost remember taking Abyssthe, setting up my drums, goofing around with my friends . . . but the memory is nebulous, like it’s underwater, along with everything else I’ve lost.
The Rho I was then feels inaccessible to me now.
I hear soft steps behind me and turn to see Mathias. His eyes travel up to mine, and I realize he was studying the slip of my back. Awkwardness reddens his cheeks, then spreads to mine, too.
“You look like home,” he says, offering me his arm.
When he’s close, I catch a hint of sweet-smelling liqueur in his breath. The sight of his fresh trimmed hair and royal blue suit takes me back to the moment before my swearing-in ceremony, when my first crush finally noticed me. It’s hard to recall the innocence of that feeling when we’re no longer those same people. “So do you,” I say, looping my arm through his.
This is the first non-war-related moment we’ve had, and my body’s already reminding me that I haven’t told him about Hysan yet. Thoughts of battle kept my guilt at bay before, but now the old squirm in my stomach has resurfaced.
We cross the plank to join the rest of the festival, and I peer out at the faces, searching for Hysan’s. The crowd is in the high hundreds, and bodies continue to pour out from every embassy. I’ve never heard of the Houses coming together like this in recent history.
“If the stars had shown me this picture a week ago,” I say, “I wouldn’t have believed them.”
Mathias furrows his brow as we orbit the crowd. “On the other hand, if they showed you an immortal mythical monster bent on the Zodiac’s destruction . . .”
I laugh, and after the past few days, the reflex feels foreign. “Did you just make a joke?” I ask in awe. He cracks a toothy smile that fills his whole face with light, and now I come to a complete stop. “Lodestar Mathias Thais, is that a smile?”
His shoulders curve in a little—his stiff stance noticeably looser tonight—and his sweet-scented breath sweeps my skin. “Catch me on a week when we’re not about to be mass murdered, and I might surprise you.”
His indigo eyes are bright and closer to me than usual. Being friendly with Mathias should feel soothing, not unsettling—yet somehow my feelings for him seemed clearer when we were arguing.
We get jostled by the growing crowd, and Mathias steers me clear of their foot-stomping and elbow-jabbing. The village keeps filling up with more people, and just like when the Cancer Sea’s tide rises, we’re forced to seek higher ground. Wherever we go, I scan the surrounding faces for Hysan.
The Piscene embassy is on a hill, so we climb up to join the sparser groups gathering on its front lawn. The embassy—a crystal temple with curving corners—is lit up and teeming with people inside. Through its semitransparent walls, their bodies look like shadows.
Now that we have a relative bit of privacy, Mathias gently releases my arm and turns to face me. “Could we . . . talk?”
There’s a quiver in his question that’s an off-key note in his musical voice. The sound sings to something deep within me, and I realize whatever’s weighing down Mathias, I can’t hear it until I’ve come clean about Hysan. I don’t want to lie to him, not ever again, and especially not about this.
“I think we should,” I say quickly, before I can think the words over too much. “But I need to tell you something first.”
A Piscene Acolyte in a floor-length silver veil approaches us with a tray of hot pink drinks. She doesn’t even look at me after she’s seen Mathias. “Seaberry liqueur?” she asks him.
He shakes his head. Instead of leaving, she sidles closer and jingles a pocket within her veil. It makes a tinkling noise like glass bottles touching. “Or perhaps you’d prefer some Kappa-Opioid . . . ?”
“Kappa what?” I ask, adding volume to my voice to prove my presence.
“Not that junk again, Pisces!”
A brusque Taurian Acolyte in an olive green Academy uniform storms over and yanks on the girl’s arm. Hot pink liqueur dribbles down the side of the flute glasses on her tray. “Do you even realize who you’re offering drugs to, Spacey?”
“It’s Lacey,” snaps the Piscene girl, wrenching her arm free. “I’ve told you so ten times, Taurian! And it’s not a drug, it’s a pathway to the stars—”