Orange sunlight spills into the cave, and I hold up a hand to shield my eyes. I follow Skarlet onto a stone outcropping that descends to the earth like a long ramp, providing a panoramic view of Phaet. In addition to the giant, golden Helios, there’s a second small sun in the sky that’s ruby red, and it’s the combination of both colors that’s giving everything an orange glare.
The grassy horizon holds three large hills, and massive Rams as large as Pegazi graze along the banks of a dozen blue rivulets that wind around the hills and disappear into the surrounding forest. Each of the three hills is topped with a monumental stone fortress.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand when Skarlet doesn’t volunteer an explanation on her own.
She chuckles and starts walking down the ramp. I grudgingly follow, annoyed to find myself suddenly dependent on her.
“Our Zodai terraformed this planet a long time ago.” She’s so leggy that I have to take two steps for every one of hers. “We never told anyone, not even the rest of our House, and since The Bellow is as much as most people ever see of this planet, we’ve been able to keep the forest hidden.”
“Why?”
She sighs and slows down to keep pace with me. “Because our people are constantly rising up. In the early days of our House, our Zodai decided we would need a failsafe, and since the Majors have always had control of this planet, they terraformed this place so we’d have a haven and a training ground. Over time, we’ve managed to quietly transfer over the most important pieces of our history here, in case Phaetonis ever falls apart . . . which it very nearly has.”
I spot a few groups of Zodai spread out along the landscape, but we’re too far to see anyone clearly. Some people seem to be practicing Yarrot, some are speaking in groups, and some are training with weapons. From the range of uniform colors represented, it looks like the whole Zodiac is here.
“Haven’t you noticed how a lie grows exponentially more powerful over time?” asks Skarlet, her bronze brown skin shimmering in the suns’ light. “When people are repeatedly told the same thing by those in power, they tend to believe it—that is, until a girl raises her voice to prove power wrong.”
I think she might be complimenting me, but it’s hard to tell since everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like a challenge.
The stone ramp ends, and as we step onto the grassy ground, I turn around to take in the view behind me. Beyond the towering mountain, the woods seem to grow wild, with trees as tall as starscrapers covered in autumnal foliage. Plumes of black smoke rise over the coppery treetops, like a fire getting out of control.
“That’s the Everblaze,” she says, following my gaze. “It’s a fire that’s never gone out. Our forebears used to burn our warriors’ souls there so their spirits could rise to Helios, and our Zodai still carry on that tradition. Phaet is the most special part of our House,” she adds, and I think this is probably as gentle as her voice gets. “It’s always been a warrior’s world . . . a land where the spirituality of the Zodai and the might of the soldier meet.”
I follow her onto a dirt path that unfurls in the direction of the stone fortresses, and I pan my gaze across the closest group of Zodai, their faces growing more distinct as we approach. When their familiar features sharpen, my breath catches as I make out Mathias’s dark locks and Hysan’s golden head.
They’re speaking apart from the others, and I don’t see Mom or Pandora or Brynda or Rubi nearby.
Rather than picking up my pace, my legs seem to grow heavier at the sight of the guys, and I stop moving altogether the instant it hits me that Skarlet is taking me right to them.
“Don’t you want to see your boyfriend?” she asks, her tone almost taunting.
I thought the tension between us was something I brought back from the Sumber, but now I realize it’s coming from her, too. I guess Hysan must have told her about us . . . and I don’t think she’s used to coming in second place.
Rather than answer, I step off the dirt path and cut across the grass in a new direction, away from the crowd. I don’t elaborate, and Skarlet doesn’t ask.
“Then how about a shower?” she offers instead. I glare at her, and she crinkles her nose. “You smell awful.”
Rolling my eyes, I ask, “Do I have a room somewhere?”
“This way.” She marches us toward the forest, and I don’t look back because I don’t want to risk Hysan or Mathias spotting me. So to keep focused on what matters, I ask, “What happened when I shot Crompton?”
“When their master fell, his soldiers prioritized his life over the mission, and they rushed him to safety, leaving you behind. The Guardians knew the master would likely return for you, so you had to be hidden. General Eurek agreed to give you sanctuary here.”
When we reach the shade of the tree line, I can’t pry my gaze off the oranges and reds and golds of the foliage. I’m so busy looking up that I nearly walk into a pair of giant Rams, and I only steer myself away at the last moment.
Skarlet laughs, and I turn to see that she was watching me—and most likely hoping I’d collide with them. I bite down on my lip to keep from calling her what I think she is, and I take in the two enormous creatures I nearly hit, ogling at their curved ivory horns and muscled backs.
One of them is black furred and white horned, the other white furred and black horned. They look terrifying, but they don’t seem the least bit interested in us.
After being asleep for so long, my muscles are sore from all this walking, but I won’t give Skarlet the satisfaction of seeing my weakness. Still, I’m relieved when a stone keep comes into view—much smaller than the three fortresses on the hilltops—its doors wide open.
There’s no guard by the entrance, nor do I see much in the way of security, not like there was inside the mountain. This whole forest feels like a secret garden where Arieans can let down their armor and just be themselves. It’s like the Majors’ own version of Zenith and Paloma’s hideout.
We step into a cool, dim chamber outfitted with a sitting area of lumpy and mismatched couches, a couple of wallscreens, and dozens of shelves stuffed with ancient-looking paper books. “The dining hall is through there,” says Skarlet, pointing to a stone corridor that leads beyond this room, “and the bathrooms are downstairs,” she points to a staircase at the other end of the space. “Got it?”
I nod. I guess that’s the extent of our tour.
“So where’s my stuff?”
“In your lodgings,” she says, and she marches across the keep to a door at its other end. When we step through it, we’re outside again.
On this side of the structure, the forest’s trees are more spaced out, and sitting between them are massive, multihued tents of every fashion—I see a black one studded with silver stars, a rainbow one with color-changing stripes, a hi-tech one that projects a slideshow of holographic captures, and more.