Ophiuchus always precedes catastrophe.

But Ophiuchus was nothing like what they said. Nike, the Astrals—they knew nothing about Ophiuchus. I knew him like I knew myself—and he was good. Pure.

My pen snapped in my hand and ink spilled over my fingers. Poppy pulled tissues from her bag and helped me mop up the mess. I was thankful for the distraction, so I didn’t have to hear the nonsense Nike was spewing. Maybe she just didn’t know better, but it still pissed me off. There was no soul sweeter than Ophiuchus.

“Is something the matter?” Nike asked me dryly, picking up on my frustration. 

“Well, only Astrals have Constellations,” I said slowly, trying to keep my anger in check. “So how can a Constellation be evil? Are Astrals evil?”

Nike tilted her head. “Why not?” she said. 

My passion bubbled over. 

“Then what’s the difference between Dark Stars and Astrals? Aren’t we all just”—I struggled for the right words—“people with powers?” 

“Choice,” Nike said. “It’s all about the ability to choose. Dark Stars are people, but they don’t get to stay that way. They become monsters. They don’t get a choice and they don’t get humanity. That’s the way of it. And Astrals—” Nike leaned back. “We’re people. Good and bad. We choose what we are.”

I could feel Ophiuchus’s light mental touch through our bond. He was trying to calm me down, I think. Constellations didn’t think or feel in the same ways we did. It was a bit like trying to read a painting. Two different languages. Two different ways. Still, I appreciated the nudge. He was always with me. Always supporting me. And if he didn’t want me to do anything, I wouldn’t.

By the time I refocused on class, Nike was announcing, “Time for duals.” 

As she led us down to the gym, I knew I should’ve leapt at the chance to destroy some things and blow off some steam, but the gym was pretty much the last place in the Society I wanted to see. I was always there in the mornings and after class. I may have been a little tired of the gym—just a little.

“We can’t practice against a real Dark Star, and I would never want you to face one at your current levels anyway. But what we can do are duals,” Nike said from across the room. “This is a fair fight. So you can use your Constellation or your elements.” 

Which meant I was outclassed from the get-go. 

“Castor, with Aris,” Nike directed. “Poppy, with Nilo.”

Fate had once again set me against Castor. In a way, this was beoming familiar. Leander made us spar all the time with weapons—but elements and Constellations were a long way from staffs.

Castor, as usual, was emotionless. He moved so he was in front of me and dropped his water bottle and towel to the side. He stretched and I quickly started to do the same. 

Nilo and Poppy had already started dualing. From what I could see, both were using their elements—and both were covered in mud. The outcome of a water element facing an earth element, I supposed.

I stood, ready, and Castor motioned me forward. Going easy on me. Tsk. I’d make him take me seriously. 

I raised my fist, mulling over the new idea I wanted to test out. I let the fire build in my palm—and encouraged it to wrap around my fist. It worked, until my fist was enveloped in fire.

I dove in and swung, my fist inches from his face when a huge burst of wind knocked me away.

I landed on the mats and skidded back. I got to my feet, but the wind knocked me back down. Again and again. I had to do something. I wished I could use my full power. Call Ophiuchus and knock Castor right off his feet. Use my shadows to hold him down. But I couldn’t do any of that. So instead, I looked up at him from the mats, frustrated.

“Do you yield?” he asked.

“Does it look like I’m yielding?” I asked.

“You are on the floor,” he said and I shot a ball of fire at him. He ducked back—and slipped.

While he’d been looking at me, I’d summoned my water and formed a large puddle behind him. He was soaked. 

Castor looked at me, murderous.

“Do you yield?” I taunted him.

Unfortunately, it was all downhill from there. I spent the rest of class pinned against a wall by his wind, refusing to yield, and until I did, Castor refused to let me down. I guess he was a bit more cautious after the puddle. 

**

For dinner, Poppy and I walked to the Commissary, taking a quick detour through the Atrium. Poppy liked to look at the statues and I loved to look at the night sky painted on the ceiling. Poppy was telling about her latest painting when she stopped mid sentence and gasped. I looked up from my phone.

“What is it?” I asked her.

“One of the twelve,” Poppy gushed. She pointed at a man talking to a group of Astrals. 

The man was older, his hair was white, whiter than his cream white robes, and he had a close cut beard—andhe was tall. If not for being at the Sidereous Society, I would have just thought he was a buff old man. 

Then he turned his head—two striking green eyes and a scar running across his face—and it was almost as if I could feel the power emanating from him. His gaze ran over us, especially past me as if I wasn’t even there. I shivered.

The man finished his discussion with a senior Astral. He walked our way—and he passed us, not a word or glance in our direction.

Once he was far enough away, Poppy squealed.

“Did you see that? That was Apollo,” she said. She was giddy. “It’s so rare to see one of the Twelve. We’re so lucky. Well, you get to see Leander all the time—you’re the lucky one.”

I didn’t feel like the lucky one. I didn’t feel the awe Poppy did for any of the Twelve, but especially not for this guy. I didn’t feel anything—except unsettled. And I didn’t know why.