I gaze into Sirna’s sea-blue eyes. “Agatha will be interim Guardian until a new one is selected. She’s the most senior Advisor. Watch over her.”
Sirna gives a solemn nod. “Of course we will. I must return to the embassy, but I wanted to bid you farewell first. Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” We hug, and she turns to go—then I remember the Astralator. “Wait, Sirna. Could you take something back to the Thaises?”
Her expression falls with sadness as I hold out the Astralator. “It was Mathias’s . . . and his sister’s before that.”
She stares at it but doesn’t accept. “We mustn’t interfere with the wishes of those who have gone. Mathias wanted you to have this. His parents have other things to remember him by. . . . This is yours.”
? ? ?
When Sirna leaves to resume her role at the Plenum, Rubidum refuses to go, and I’m glad. She’s two hundred and eighty years older than me, but she feels like my kid sister, and now we’re both homeless.
Neith and Hysan man the helm, and as Equinox lifts off and climbs away from House Aries, I watch the planet Phaetonis disappear without regret. Far in the distant sky, unknown stars circle beyond our galaxy, spreading outward without end.
I can’t fathom infinity. Telescopes see only so far, and even the Ephemeris reveals no more than our visible universe. No ship will ever travel fast enough to reach the edge of Space. Anything might lurk out there. Anything is possible.
Even Empyrean.
Rubidum comes up beside me. “See something?”
“Just thinking.”
She presses her forehead to the glass. “Scientists say that somewhere in the universe, every event under the sun repeats itself an infinite number of times in every possible variation.”
“I like that.” Could it be that somewhere beyond our sight, Mathias still lives, and another, better Rho Grace still swims in a sapphire sea?
Rubidum nudges my arm. “Your fans will set you up as a martyr. You’ll be more famous than ever. That’s what I foresee.”
“You got that from the stars?”
“Yes. I’m not a Guardian for nothing. Hysan’s right, you know. You are the true Mother of Cancer. The stars haven’t pointed to another.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Your Lodestars haven’t located new astrological fingerprints as Potentials to replace you.”
A far more terrible theory forms in my mind: Maybe Cancer doesn’t have a new Guardian because Cancer is gone forever.
But I can’t think that way.
“I need more training, Rubi.” I hug my knees to my chest. “I have a ton of stuff to learn.” Even as I speak, my eyes sting at the memory of Mathias’s advice.
Hysan comes up behind us. “So where to?”
“The moons of Aquarius have stellar ski spas,” says Rubidum. “Or we might try sun-sailing on planet Leo.”
“I’d like to find my brother,” I say, even though I know it’s selfish. “He’s probably in the refugee camp on Hydragyr.”
“House Gemini.” Rubidum turns to the glass and squints in the direction of her world. Her red-rimmed eyes remind me of the people in her court, so lively and creative, now burnt to ash. “I’ve been dreading the sight, but . . . yes, I believe it’s time to return.”
“Gemini?” Hysan twists his lips like he’s tasting vinegar. “Neith, my liege, the ladies have decided. Set a course for the Third House.”
44
HOUSE GEMINI IS FAR ACROSS the ecliptic from Aries, so Equinox will make another slingshot loop around the sun to boost our speed. We’re on our way now, and I’m in my cabin, thinking of Mathias.
“Rho? Are you awake?” Rubidum’s calling from the other side of the door. “There’s something Hysan thought you’d want to see.”
Equinox’s nose has already darkened and polarized when I come in, and my companions are near the curved glass, admiring our sun. I come to rest between them, and when I bump Hysan’s shoulder, he smiles.
“Light of the sun be with you,” he says, an oddly antiquated greeting.
“And with you,” I answer in kind.
We turn toward the golden fire, which is nearly out of range. “Now look to the right.” Hysan points to a blue jewel in the sky.
I widen my eyes. It’s Cancer.
She’s glowing as bright blue as ever, ringed now by a necklace of moon stones. It reminds me of the pearl necklace Mom gave me, uniting each of the House’s sacred symbols.
Unity. Ophiuchus. The irony.
Now, when I’ve lost everything and almost everyone, I feel truly naked for the first time. I have no place in the world, and the world has no place to offer me. I’m free . . . and just me.