I don’t get back to my room until late, every muscle in my body sore and aching. At first I could barely pull off the easiest positions and kept losing my balance, but by the end it was as though I’d never stopped practicing. Every arc, stretch, and sweep of movement was etched inside my mind, like the dancing of my drumsticks, or the swirling of Cancer in the Ephemeris—everything felt connected, like it’s all part of a grand choreography designed by our stars.
We cycled through all twelve poses until I could hold each one for fifteen minutes without breaking a sweat.
When I get to my room, I’m supposed to open the black opal and Center myself, to see what effect the Yarrot has—but I collapse in bed, exhausted, and I don’t wake up until morning.
? ? ?
Three days have passed, and it’s nighttime, I think. Oceon 6 has no windows, and its alternating periods of artificial light confuse my sense of chronology.
Everything’s confused. I’m still in shock.
Yesterday, I awoke in a frenzy, thinking I was late for class. Then I remembered. The Academy is gone. So are my instructors and friends. Maybe even my family. My old life is a sand castle that’s been washed away in the Cancer Sea’s new tide.
This other life feels surreal. I’m beginning to think the Advisors only chose me as Guardian because I’m young and easy to control, since they spend our morning meetings debating strategy among themselves and ignoring my suggestions. The way Mathias eyes me only strengthens my doubts. He keeps saying it’s my duty to play the part—but he doesn’t say it’s my rightful place.
Everyone else on this base looks at me like I’m their savior. I just wish they would tell me what I’m supposed to do.
This morning, Crius told us he found the real cause of the explosion on Thebe—a critical overload in a quantum fusion reactor. What he and Dr. Eusta want to know is how it happened. I keep telling them we already know how—Dark Matter was the trigger. But Agatha is the only one who believes me.
The question isn’t how—it’s who.
Crius wants more answers, and he made me read the Ephemeris for most of the meeting. Mathias made me read it again this afternoon. But both times, I couldn’t see.
We’ve lost twenty million people, a fifth of our population. It’s a number too large for me to understand.
What I do understand is that Deke’s sisters drowned. Kai lost his parents. Dad and Stanton haven’t been found. I’m too full of the past to see the future.
Tonight is the first time I get to be with my friends since we arrived. Wave communications finally started working again, so I spoke to Nishi for hours yesterday, filling her in on everything that’s happened since we parted. She was breathless for most of the conversation. It felt strange to share a laugh with someone again—the past three days, it’s been all bows and Holy Mothers from Lola, Leyla, and the Lodestars, and then a bunch of barking and bossing around from Mathias and my Advisors.
Sagittarians don’t bow to their Guardian—they say doing so implies every soul is not equal—so thank Helios Nishi isn’t fazed by this stuff. For her part, Nishi told me that she, Deke, and Kai have been grouped together with the other Acolytes who survived . . . the Acolytes who didn’t come out to our show.
After she said it, guilt choked both our vocal cords for a while. If we hadn’t organized the concert that night. If I’d heeded the warning signs in the Ephemeris. If we’d just stayed indoors . . .
They might have died anyway, a small voice reminds me. The pieces of wreckage that struck the compound killed just as many people as the electric pulse did outdoors.
Nishi said she and the guys have been in Zodai training all day, every day. A Lodestar Garrison trains them in the mornings—while I’m in with the Council of Advisors—and Agatha trains them in the afternoons.
They had to take Abyssthe yesterday, and Kai panicked and refused. Deke was the only one who could convince him that it would be fine, that he wouldn’t pass out and wake up to the destruction of our world.
I Waved Deke a few times, but he didn’t answer. When I asked Nishi about him, she grew cagey and said he’s dealing with loss his own way. I just wish I could help.
This morning, Mathias told me he arranged for the three of them to eat dinner with me in my room tonight. The excitement of seeing my friends is so massive, it doesn’t leave room for anything else. I’ve been distracted all day, and I could tell Mathias and the rest of my Advisors are starting to lose their patience. I’ll need to manage something impressive tomorrow.
The moment she’s in my room, Nishi and I spring into each other’s arms. Squeezed together, we laugh until we’re crying, and then we laugh again.
Like all civilian refugees on Oceon 6, she’s wearing laboratory scrubs borrowed from the scientists, but she’s rolled up the sleeves and added a belt at her waist, so she still manages to look sexy. When we pull away, I turn to hug Deke, but he’s not there. Instead, Kai approaches me slowly, without meeting my gaze. He bows. “Holy Mother.”
I crush him into an embrace, and I don’t let go until he returns it. “Kai, I’m so sorry about your parents,” I whisper into his ear. His hold tightens, and his breathing grows heavy, so we stay locked together a while longer. When we’re done, he looks at me like I’m Rho again.