I’ve never been so close to his face before. I trace the smooth lines of his jaw and cheekbones with my eyes before catching myself and looking away.
He guides each of us out of the vehicle, and when we resume our procession, our feet clomp along the carpeted deck with something like real weight. It’s the first time since the crystal dome’s imitation gravity that I feel the full force of my body, and its presence seems foreign to me.
Admiral Crius is waiting for us in what looks like a lecture hall that’s been converted into a disaster-response room. A dozen blue-uniformed Zodai are working on slick screens, and an enormous holographic map of Cancer rotates in the air overhead, blinking with red warning lights. Crius gets up from his desk and gives Mathias a fist bump, then frowns at the rest of us. He’s a broad-chested man somewhere in his mid-forties, with pepper-colored curls and crinkles around his mouth and eyes. His expression, like everyone else’s, is grim.
“You must be Acolyte Rhoma Grace,” he says to me.
I stiffen. Deke and Nishiko turn and stare at me, and I try to remember which of the many rules I’ve broken. “Yes.” In a fuller voice, I say, “My name is Rho Grace.”
“Come with me, Acolyte. You as well, Lodestar Thais. As for the rest of you, these officers will see to your needs.”
The Admiral turns on his heel and strides away, and Mathias nods that I should follow. I give Nishi a questioning look, but she seems as confused as I am.
This can’t be about the Academy’s test again. This is about Stanton.
Or Dad.
The weight of my bones is too much for me to carry, and my throat fills with what tastes like acid. I’ve already lost the only two homes I’ve ever known—I can’t lose what’s left of my family.
I peel off my black gloves and stuff them—and my Wave—into a pocket of my compression suit. My helmet is already clipped to my belt.
Fortunately, we don’t have to travel far. The Admiral leads us into a space no larger than Instructor Tidus’s classroom, where two other people are present.
The elderly white-haired lady’s expression is both warm and sad, but there’s a sinister snarl on the stout bald man’s face. Mathias closes the door and stands in front of it, ramrod straight, hands at his sides, eyes forward. I can’t read his expression.
Admiral Crius examines me head to toe. “Acolyte Rhoma Grace. You have been brought before what is left of Holy Mother Origene’s Council of Advisors to face judgment. Tonight, your mother, Kassandra Grace, has confessed to treason.”
6
TREASON.
The word sounds strange, unfamiliar, unconnected to my life. “I don’t believe you.” It’s almost a snarl. “Betrayal is not in our Cancrian nature.”
The stout man’s scowl deepens, but it’s Crius who says, in his clipped military tone, “Neither is abandoning our loved ones, yet she left you.”
After everything I’ve experienced tonight, I didn’t think I had anything left to lose.
I was wrong.
I’ve not thought about Mom for so long, I never considered what I’d do if I learned she was alive. Despair swims through my veins, and I swivel around and lock eyes with Mathias. The indigo blue of his gaze never looked so explosive, not even when we were escaping Elara. But does he care what happens to me, or is he revolted he showed me pity in the first place?
The desperation makes me feel like I’m falling further and further away from myself, from this moment, from memories of my life. It’s like I’m being sucked into a black hole, removed from the reality I thought I knew, only as slowly and painfully as possible.
“Kassandra Grace has been sentenced to summary execution,” continues Crius in his wintry way, every word pulling me deeper into the abyss. “If you stay, her name will stain yours. You will be shunned by your House, separated from your friends, and you can never be a Zodai.”
I’m so far gone that I barely hear him when he says, “We are here to offer you a choice.”
Hope flickers like a small flame, burning bright against so much darkness. “A choice?”
He gives a curt nod. “Denounce her. We’ll transfer you to work for us on House Aries, at the Planetary Plenum. You can start a new life for yourself.”
The admiral lays his Wave on the table in front of me and says, “Press your thumbprint at the bottom, and you’ll be transferred without delay.”
I stare at the clam-shaped device, the small sensor in its mouth shining like a pearl.
Shock is like lightning—it only lasts an instant—but its replacement is hot, prickly shame. I would have preferred death on Elara to this choice. Whatever my mother did, I know my answer. There is no choice—not for me.
“I belong on Cancer, with my family.” My voice is strong, and it makes me stronger. “Thank you for your offer, but I decline.”