Dead silence meets my declaration.
I doubt anyone has ever been put to rest through the funeral rites of a different House, and Eurek and Hysan are staring at me like I’ve just declared myself a Riser.
“It’s the best honor I can offer him,” I add softly. “Under the circumstances.”
“Of course,” says Eurek, his strong voice dipping to a gentle tone. “The Ascension always takes place when Helios sets, so we can pick an evening when—”
“Tonight.”
Hysan’s hesitation is written all over his face, so I pull on my most pathetic-looking Cancrian expression and fend off his objections by saying, “I really need the closure.”
Pity replaces concern in his eyes, and then Eurek says, “I’ll have the arrangements made. And afterwards, the body—”
“Should be launched to Helios in the Cancrian tradition,” I say quickly before he can even suggest burning my brother’s body to ashes. My knees grow shaky, and I know I can’t discuss Stan another moment or the reality of his passing will settle over me and I’ll never make it to the Lion constellation.
“Would you like me to assemble the senior officers for a meeting now?” offers Hysan.
“No need,” I say without meeting his gaze. “I’m going to the weapons camp to train with Mathias.”
“We thought you’d want to stay here in the metaphysical camp,” counters Hysan, and I can’t tell if it’s a suggestion or a command. “Pandora will join you—”
“I’ve been told the astral plane has become inaccessible,” I cut in.
“Yes, but perhaps you—”
“I need to regain my strength first. I think I should do some physical training. And Yarrot.”
“Good strategy,” says Eurek, and he stares at Hysan like he’s daring him to disagree. But the Libran does no such thing.
“I’ll escort you over,” he offers instead.
My gut hardens. I don’t want to be alone with Hysan, but I also need to be doing a better job of pretending everything’s fine. Otherwise, he’ll be the first to suspect I’m up to something.
“Actually, I can walk her,” says a soft, dreamy voice, and we all turn to look at Pandora. “I’d like to talk to Rho about what’s been going on in the Psy. We can regroup for lunch.”
Hysan looks like he disagrees, but before he says so out loud, I jump in. “Pandora’s right. General, thank you for your time. Hysan, we’ll see you later.”
I don’t look his way as I stride past him, and the last thing I hear is his quiet murmur, “As you wish.”
But that’s the biggest lie of them all.
Because nothing will ever be as I wish.
Not anymore.
12
“HOW ARE YOU?” ASKS PANDORA as soon as we’re outside, bathed in orange daylight.
“You don’t have to come with me. You can just point me in the right direction.”
“I need to check in with Mathias,” she says, leading us down the hill toward the other two fortresses. “And anyway, I agree there’s no point in you trying to do a reading. Even if the astral plane weren’t collapsing, you still wouldn’t See anything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, the words coming out sharper than I intended.
“You’re hiding,” she says simply, as though she were commenting on the state of the weather and not my mind. “You’re not even interested in recovering yet, so there’s no point.”
Pandora may not have Hysan’s powers of perception, but she’s experienced enough horrors firsthand to recognize a dead woman walking. I’ll have to do a better job of summoning my emotions.
A rivulet cuts through the valley between the first hill and the next, and we step onto a low stone bridge to get across it. The climb up the second hill is steeper than the first, and my muscles are cramping in pain, my body aching for more recovery time. . . .
But it’s nothing compared to what Nishi’s body must be enduring.
I fight down that thought by forcing myself to stay present as we enter the second Fort. In place of a communal reading room, the main hall is crammed with dozens of elevated rings where Zodai from every House are practicing sparring with each other using blue-bladed swords.
“Why is everyone using the same weapon?” I ask.
“The Marad’s technology is Aquarian,” explains Pandora. “The blue light it sends out is an energy wave. The Zodai tested every House’s weapons against the Murmurs in our possession, and they found the Barer is the only one capable of shielding people from its blast. But we’re also training in all Zodai devices, since they’re so different.”
We stop in front of a display of weapons with holographic tags hovering over each one. The Ripple, the Arclight, and the Scarab are familiar, but this is my first time seeing the other Houses’ devices up close. I avoid the Sumber and instead study a couple of the Earth Houses’ horn-shaped weapons by reading their text overhead.
The Capricorn Shrill is made from Seagoat horns, the insides of which are carved with a series of ridges using a centuries-old Capricorn technique. When sounded, the Chronicler’s breath passes through thousands of intricate airways to emit a sound at a frequency that shuts down the nervous system of anyone who hears it.
The Taurian Tremble is a stout, horn-shaped device that can be plunged into the earth to trigger a small, targeted earthquake. The Tremble is most effective when used in teams of three to create a devastating and contained quake within a triangulated area.
A crowd erupts in celebration, and I turn to look at the training area again. “What’s going on there?” I ask, pointing to the Zodai gathered around one of the center rings. Squinting, I recognize the pair of fighters—Skarlet and Mathias.
“They do this all the time,” says Pandora, following me as I move in for a closer look. I can’t take my eyes off them.
The match is like a sensuous and deadly dance between two beautiful warriors. As they spar, the audience cries out in excitement, and some even seem to be taking bets.
I’ve never seen Mathias move like this before. Skarlet lunges, and he parries. She flickers around in her red suit like a living flame, moving so stealthily and attacking so suddenly that it takes near superhuman reflexes to deflect her—which Mathias has. His fighting technique reminds me of Yarrot—his movements are smooth and connected and focused—and he only raises his sword to defend himself. He never strikes.
A bell rings, signaling the end of the match, and there’s no clear winner. The Zodai seem upset by this, and they start arguing with each other about who owes whom payment, but Skarlet and Mathias are laughing as they step off the ring.
“You’re tough for a crab,” she says, shoving him roughly.
“You’re pleasant enough for a ram,” he teases back, and then he actually smirks. “Well, some of the time.”
She punches him in what was probably supposed to be a playful touch, but Mathias cries out and cradles his arm. “Ow! The match was over!”