Free Wandering Star: A Zodiac Novel by Romina Russell Page A

identity fraud.”
    “Why
Ophiuchus
?” I ask, freeing my curls from a sloppy bun so I can wrestle them into a tighter one. “Why not just a white-masked scary person like those soldiers?”
    From the way he can’t wait to speak, I can tell he’s already considered the
why
. “We know two important things about the master,” says Aryll, holding up two fingers. “One, he likes to play games, and two, he’s a student of history. Just as he studied the Trinary Axis for the Marad’s attacks, he could have learned about Ochus by studying Zodiac lore and adopting himas a dramatic disguise. Can you think of a better way to distract our whole universe than revealing a hidden House?”
    I’m shaking my head, like I still want to argue with him, even though the words don’t come. Aryll’s unconventional thinking reminds me of the way the Libran jury arrives at decisions: He’s considering the problem from every possibility. I never realized he was so bright. It makes me wish he’d speak up more often.
    I can’t produce an argument against Aryll, so he goes on. “He sent you zooming through the Zodiac with an urgent warning he knew no one else would believe, something sensational enough to capture the attention of every House—doesn’t that sound exactly like what he’s trying to do now? So that you’ll direct everyone’s attention this way . . . while he goes the other?”
    Even though my emotions are writhing and whirring, wanting to be heard, I push them down and follow Aryll’s logic. This is the kind of thoughtful analysis Mathias would have urged me to do before bursting into action.
    “You’re right,” I say, sighing. “I can’t let him keep using me—whatever he is, he’s the opposite of me.”
    We’re silent a while, Aryll probably still thinking through his theory, while I’m wondering what I’d do—what
Stanton
would do—if Aryll didn’t make it back.
    I steal a glance at him, and he’s still fingering his bronze locket. I recognize that kind of attachment to an object; without having to ask, I can tell it’s Aryll’s last memory of home.
    “Are you sure you want to do this?” I whisper.
    He doesn’t immediately answer, his gaze still adrift. “Not really,” he admits.
    My voice flush with relief, I say, “Great! Then
stay
—”
    “I also don’t want to be on Capricorn. I don’t want to be watching the news waiting to hear how many others have died. I don’t want to be in awar. I don’t want to be an orphan.” He’s squeezing the locket so tight, I’m worried he’ll cut himself. “They’ve taken everything from me. My family, my home, even half my vision. I have nothing left.”
    I rest my hand on his, and he finally looks at me, his grip on the locket relaxing. His blue eye is shiny with tears. “You have us,” I whisper. “We’re your family now.”
    He wipes the tears with the back of his bandaged hand. “My older sister and I used to fight all the time. We could barely be in the same room without competing for the same game or the same person’s attention.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t like remembering.
    “I wanted a brother. Like Stanton.” More tears run down his cheek, but he doesn’t wipe them. “Do you hate me now?”
    “No,” I murmur, squeezing his hand. Then I pass him a tissue, and while he dries his face, I try one last time. “Stanton really loves you. He’d be thrilled if you stayed.”
    Aryll surveys the room, as though his decision depends on these very walls. “I can’t stay. I don’t like it here, Rho. I’m not sure what it is . . .”
    Watching him now, I spot the discomfort in his expression. His sunburn is looking worse today, and I start to wonder if maybe it’s just this place that doesn’t agree with him.
    “Too much land,” I say, nodding decisively. “I think we’re going to like Sagittarius.”

    The next morning, Stanton accompanies Aryll and me to the spaceport. Aryll boards the shuttle first and