Sunblind Serpent: The Zodiac Without A House

Marek slept badly, which at least proved he had not changed his mind overnight.

Venielle knew more about Mara’s manifestation than anyone on Earth, and she had been honest about the possibility that the House of Gemini could become dangerous. Mara still wanted to stay after hearing all of it. Marek found fault with nearly every part of the situation except the part that mattered most.

The choice belonged to Mara.

Venielle prepared the route beside a shallow stone basin in the courtyard, where the water had caught the late light and turned silver-blue beneath the damaged glass above. She positioned one of the taller mirrors near the edge and pressed both palms against its surface.

The reflection changed first.

The gray stone, white fabric, and damaged glass vanished from the mirror and gave way to a narrow corridor washed in soft gold and muted violet. A moment later, the water below took on the same image, the colors spreading across its surface without a single ripple.

Marek had been about to check his backpack, but for several seconds, he just watched.

The mirror and the water were showing the same place from opposite directions, perfectly aligned despite being separated by open air. He could not tell which surface Venielle was treating as the source anymore.

Then he opened his backpack and started counting the noodle packets anyway.

Mara watched him for several seconds. ”What are you doing?”

”Inventory.”

”Of noodles,” Mara said blandly.

”Still inventory.”

”I know how many I took.” Mara pushed his hand away before he could count them again. ”Keep yours. I have enough.”

Marek glanced at her bag. ”Those are emergency supplies.”

”So are yours.” ℯℯ𝘭.

”I am not the one crossing through a correspondence.”

”And I am not the one who forgets to eat when he gets focused.”

Mara zipped her bag closed. ”Three is enough. You keep eight.”

”Fine.”

She looked pleased by how reluctantly the word came out of him. ”Also, two of those are emergency noodles. Don’t eat both.”

Marek frowned. ”Which two?”

”I’m not telling you.”

”Then how am I supposed to know?”

Mara smiled. ”Exactly. Now you have to protect all eight.”

”That makes no sense.”

”It makes perfect sense to me.”

The other minors had already begun gathering near Venielle. One by one, they approached the mirror while the same distant corridor remained visible across the silver-blue water beside it.

Each crossing began with the reflection. The child appeared in both surfaces at once, then stepped toward the glass. Their physical body vanished first, while the image in the basin remained for another moment before following. Only then did both surfaces settle back into perfect agreement.

Marek watched each one closely, fascinated by the delay. He still could not tell whether the mirror was carrying them to the other place or whether Venielle was somehow making both locations agree that the person had already crossed.

Venielle noticed him watching but said nothing.

Before calling Mara forward, Venielle took out two small rectangular mirrors no larger than Marek’s palm. She handed one to Mara and the other to him.

”These correspond to each other,” she said. ”They are for contact only. Mara cannot establish the correspondence herself yet, but if she needs to reach you, I can open it for her.”

Marek turned the mirror over in his hand. ”Voice?”

”And reflection.”

”Passage?”

”No.”

Mara looked over. ”So I can contact you if I need to.”

Marek slipped the mirror carefully into his backpack. ”When it’s safe.”

”Yes, Marek. When it’s safe.”

When Mara’s turn came, she approached the mirror and stopped just before the glass. Marek expected another reminder about the conditions they had already discussed.

Instead, she turned around and hugged him.

He stiffened for half a second.

Mara noticed and grumbled, ”Still weird,” even as she held him a little tighter.

Marek hugged her back. ”I’m trying.”

”I know.”

She held on for a few seconds longer.

Marek closed his eyes and remembered Mara at three years old after Tomas disappeared, asking every night whether their father would come home. Amara had stopped saying maybe after the first year. Marek never said it at all. Whenever Mara asked him, he simply said he did not know. She hated that answer until eventually she stopped asking.

More than a decade later, Marek realized he had spent most of the last week asking the same question in different forms.

Are you here? Are you safe? Are you coming home?

The memory lingered until Mara finally pulled back.

”Don’t follow me,” she said.

Marek frowned immediately. ”That is not part of the agreement.”

”I mean, don’t follow me just because you’re scared. If something changes, I’ll contact you when it’s safe. If I need help, I’ll ask. If you have a real reason to think I’m in danger, then do whatever annoying thing you were already planning to do.”

”That was almost reasonable until the last part.”

”You know what I mean.”

He did. ”Immediate danger.”

”Yes.”

Marek still began listing exceptions. If Venielle decided to change the terms, Mara would contact him. If the route changed and they were going directly to the House of Gemini, Mara would tell him beforehand whenever possible. If contact suddenly stopped—

”Marek.”

He stopped.

Mara looked at him. ”I know.”

The conditions still felt too dependent on other people keeping their promises, but that had been the point of the conversation the night before. He could define what he would do if those promises failed. He could not turn uncertainty into permission to make Mara’s choices for her.

He nodded.

Venielle approached from beside the stone basin. ”The route is stable.”

Mara’s smile faded a little as she looked at Marek one last time. ”I’ll find you again.”

His chest tightened. ”Don’t say that like goodbye.”

”It isn’t.”

”Then, say something else.”

Mara thought for a moment. ”You still owe me.”

”For what?”

”I’ll decide later.”

”That is not how debt works.”

”It is now.”

Marek gave her a look, but Mara was already smiling as she turned toward the mirror.

Her body disappeared first. Her reflection remained for one second longer, looking back from the other side before it vanished as well. The correspondence closed. The surface became ordinary glass again, and the water in the stone basin returned to an ordinary reflection.

Marek remained in the courtyard after Venielle and the others were gone.

The empty space felt larger than it had during the reunion, and Marek had no practical reason for it to feel that way. Mara was alive. It was just that... she had chosen where she wanted to go, understood enough of the risks to make that choice, and knew how to contact him if the situation changed.

Rhovan remained nearby without speaking.

After a while, Marek opened his backpack and counted eight packets.

They left the Botanical Institute before the next dark period. At the outer gate, Marek stopped and looked back once at the damaged buildings behind them.

Rhovan waited beside him. ”Are we going southwest?”

”Yes.”

He adjusted the straps of his backpack and turned toward the route Amara had last taken.

For most of the week, every step had been toward Mara. Walking away from her while knowing she was alive required a kind of trust that finding her never had. Searching had given him something immediate to do with fear. This did not.

He took several steps before the urge to look back returned.

Marek kept walking.

The southwest road did not look inviting. Parts of it were still blocked by abandoned vehicles, and several distant structures carried the damage left by the first days after the planet’s Veil fell. Somewhere beyond that route was the last direction they had for Amara.

At least this time, Marek was moving because he had chosen a reason rather than because panic had chosen one for him.