Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)

“I can’t get a good shot from here,” he whispers, turning to Amanta. “Mother, please keep Rho safe.”


“Mathias—” I reach out for him, but Amanta takes a firm hold of my arm. Her grip is like iron.

“I will,” she says. “Do what you must.”

“Mathias, DON’T!” I shout.

He’s already scaling the alley wall. It’s solid concrete, and the seams he finds to jam in his fingers and toes are almost invisible. He moves so fast, he’s practically swimming.

Three stories up, Mathias fires his laser, and the window across the street shatters. Particle beams hiss back at him, cratering the wall above our heads. He ducks behind a cornice as concrete explodes around him.

I blink in the spray of dust, trying to see if he’s okay. “Mathias!”

Amanta inhales sharply. “Egon, hold her,” she says, passing me to her husband as if I were a bag of nar-clams.

Then she steps toward the street and starts firing her own laser at the window. Volleys sizzle back and forth, and the smell of burnt concrete sours the air. Egon holds my head against his chest, trying not to let me see.

The horrible noise builds and builds, until it’s over. And then silence is worse than sound.

“They’re retreating.” When I hear Mathias’s familiar baritone, I break loose and run to him. He drops down from the wall to the alley floor, and I see an ugly burn on his arm.

“You’re hurt—”

Pulling me into a hug, he presses a hard kiss on my forehead. “Doesn’t matter. You’re okay.”

There’s a flutter overhead, and I look up to see the faint shades of three large, birdlike creatures silhouetted against the fabric sky. Mathias aims his laser, but his mother says, “It’s all right. They’re friends.”

The bird-shaped devices glide across the street and enter the broken window, merging into darkness. Whatever they are, they seem to absorb almost every photon of light.

“Cancrian Secret Service. Ambassador Sirna sent them.” Amanta parts her cloak, and in the dimness, I see she’s wearing body armor underneath. She draws a fresh laser cartridge from her belt, breaks open her weapon, and reloads it.

“Holy Mother has made enemies here,” she says. “We feared there might be trouble.”

“It was Ophiuchus,” I say.

“We’ll track the shooters down. Trust me, we’ll find out who did this.”

Mathias steps toward her, and they press the backs of their right hands together. Such a simple ordinary gesture, and yet I can almost feel the current of emotion flowing through their touch.

“There may be other snipers.” Amanta steps out to check the street, then motions us to follow. “Keep to the shadows. We’ll need to hide Holy Mother in the safe house tonight.”

? ? ?

Amanta guides us to Sirna’s safe house.

As soon as we enter a side door, we pass through the pale blue rays of a biometric security scan. Then she leads us down a flight of stairs, through a steel gate, and down an elevator to a deep sub-basement. After another bio scan, she opens a pair of thick, heavy doors, and we enter what feels like a vault. It’s strange to see Cancrians using so much stealth technology. It’s not our style.

The common room has a wallscreen, a couple of faded sofas, a kitchen alcove, and a lavatory at the back. Doors on either side lead to small bunkrooms, and in the center of the room, Sirna is waiting.

“It’s good to see you unharmed, Guardian.”

“I need everyone to keep their Ephemerii away from here,” I announce in a loud voice. Now that I’m almost certain Ochus knows I’m on Aries, he might be able to track me down through people using the Psy near me.

“Mathias has already informed us that everywhere you enter must be kept free of devices connected to the Psy,” says Sirna. “He said the people behind the attacks have been using Psynergy against you, and that’s why you can’t do your readings.”

I look at Mathias. His father is tending to his arm. It’s hard to stick to any decision I make about him. Just when I think I can’t forgive him for not believing me, he goes and saves my life.

“About the troops gathering on Phobos,” says Sirna, giving me the briefing she tried to give earlier, when I stormed out of her office. I wouldn’t listen before, but as she shares more details, I begin to understand the wider implications. “My agents have infiltrated their subterranean camp. They call themselves the Marad, and they are being funded by someone with deep pockets.”

“They’re the ones who stirred up the worker revolt on the Sagittarian moon,” adds Amanta, “and they may be behind . . . other terrorist attacks as well.” It’s clear she meant to say what happened to our moons and Virgo, but she doesn’t want to contradict me publicly.

“We think they’ve established cells in every House,” says Sirna.

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