“Some fights are worth fighting at any age,” he says to me, his inky-black eyes bright as we trade the hand touch.
Hysan is behind me, and the three Guardians I just greeted greet him just as warmly as they did me. Yet as we continue down the line, the rest of our worlds’ leaders don’t seem as ready to acknowledge his place in their ranks. Chieftain Skiff won’t even look at him; but as he bumps fists with me, the red-eyed Guardian dips his head a fraction and says, “If we’re still here tomorrow, you’re welcome on Scorpio any time.”
From Ferez’s awed expression, I think it must be the highest compliment the Scorp has ever given.
The Guardian of Taurus shakes my hand next, and she flashes me a rare smile. “I see I’m not alone with my Riser parentage,” says Fernanda in a conspiratorial tone. “I knew there was something I liked about you.”
Agatha is beside her, and she eagerly wraps me in a warm embrace that’s more motherly than any hug I’ve had in my seventeen years.
“I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life,” she says in my ear, and when we pull away, her misty gray-green eyes have filled with water. Sirna stands at her side, and when I look into her sea-blue gaze, there’s so much I want to say. But we trade the hand touch silently because I can’t speak.
House Aquarius has named a new Supreme Advisor, and when I turn to greet him, I recognize his face.
“Revelough.” It’s the first word I’ve spoken since setting foot on Libra.
His eyebrows rise to his hairline. “You do me the greatest honor by remembering my name, Wandering Star,” he says, bowing. He was the only Elder who stood up to Pollus when the latter gave permission for me to speak to Crompton as they were escorting him to the dungeons. Your lack of subtletly, Revelough, is what keeps you from moving up the ranks, Pollus said to him then.
House Aquarius is changing. Politics are changing. If those who didn’t want to play the game, people who spoke up and spoke out—like Revelough and me—are becoming the new leaders, maybe Aquarius was wrong. Maybe we can do better. Maybe there is hope for the Zodiac.
. . . If we survive.
After I’ve greeted the remaining Guardians, General Eurek steps forward and addresses the crowd, a black volumizer floating around his head.
“The end of the Zodiac is upon us.”
The whole village goes deathly silent.
“You are here today because you have chosen to fight for our very existence. You are also here because after we defeat our enemies once and for all, you are not ready to go back to the way things were before. But above all, you are here today because many months ago a girl raised her voice to call for unity, and you listened.”
Clapping breaks out, and someone squeezes my arm, but I don’t even turn to see who. My gaze is unfocused, and all I can concentrate on are Eurek’s words.
“Prophet Marinda is too ill to make this journey, but she is watching us from Pisces. There were very few Piscenes off-world when the plague hit their constellation, and we’ve been protecting them on our various Houses, as they are the last of their people. But I want the whole solar system to know that every last one of those Piscenes chose to come here today. Even though their House rarely takes sides in times of war, they are here to make their final stand alongside us, for they know that sometimes neutrality is a side and cannot be endured.”
The whole village breaks into applause again, and as my vision begins to focus on the crowd, I spy a small group of Piscenes in the front. Hexel and Jox from Centaurion are here, and I’m relieved to know they’re okay. My gaze drifts past them, and I see Mathias’s parents, and Strident Engle from Scorpio, and Arcadia from Taurus who took me to see Vecily’s house, and the Cancrian Candela who on Centaurion reminded me what we’re fighting for, and Qima of Virgo, and Numen of Libra, and others. I almost gasp when I notice the red-haired sisters, Lola and Leyla, sitting at the end of the row.
All the faces from my travels have come. Every person I’m still fighting for is gathered here.
“You’ll notice an unfamiliar presence on this stage,” Eurek goes on, once the clapping ends. “A Thirteenth Guardian.”
I turn to see Ophiuchus, who stands at the far end of the platform like he’s just as uncomfortable as I am with the attention.
“Ophiuchus is real,” Eurek says loudly, his voice echoing through the silence. “Tonight, we set off for that world. That House our ancestors betrayed and abandoned is where the Zodiac will make its final stand. And now I will turn things over to the commander of our army, the leader whose voice has brought us all together, whose courage is unmatched and whose spirit is unbreakable—our one and only Wandering Star Rhoma Grace.”
The crowd breaks into rousing roars of applause, but it’s Agatha who steps forward instead of me, leaning heavily on her cane. They quiet down again.
“I would like to add one more title to Eurek’s beautiful words.” She turns and bestows on me a loving smile as she pulls out the black opal Talisman and offers it to me. “Welcome home, Holy Mother.”
All at once, every Guardian and Ambassador onstage bows—including Brynda, whose people bow to no one. My gaze pans over the crowd, and everyone else is bowing, too, even the Sagittarians.
The volumizer zips over to me, like even the device knows it’s my turn to speak. As heads pop back up, everyone is watching me with hope shining in their eyes, and the dignitaries beside me all step back, leaving me alone as they await my speech.
I clear my throat, but I can only think of one thing to say.
“I’m sorry. I can’t lead you.”
And I turn and leave the stage.
35
I FLEE TO THE CANCRIAN embassy, and duty bound to me once more, Sirna follows.
I cross the plank and enter the second bungalow, and then I climb up the stairs until I’m on the rooftop with the aquarium beneath me. I try not to think of how much Stan would have loved to see it.
“Rho.”
“Don’t lecture me,” I snap, whirling on Sirna. “You know I’m doing the right thing. You saw through me from the start. You always knew I didn’t have what it takes to be Holy Mother, but I was too na?ve to listen. You were right: I was unprepared, I was selfish, and I took everything personally. I was wrong for this role since the first day, and deep down, I knew it.”
“You’re right,” she says, and I savor her honesty the way a parched person savors water. “I thought you were a fame-seeking child who would only manage to alienate our House from the rest of the Zodiac at a time when we needed the others’ help more than ever.”
She gestures to the people in the center of the village. “But one look at what’s happening down there is all it takes to prove how wrong I was.”
“They’re not here for me. They’re here because they don’t want to die—”
“They’re here to fight. And you’re the one they’re asking to lead them.”