The Zodiac Stone

Prologue

"When you fee all is lost."

He stared at the puddle on the ground, the spread widening with every red drop; drip, drip, drip.

The drops trailed the edge of brown cloth and dropped to the flagstones. Running into the cracks it would dry and stain for years to come, turning an ugly shade of dark rust.

He rubbed his hands together, feeling the ghost of his father's hand now that he'd let go. The heat of his father's hand seeped away quickly, only leaving cool fingers and sweat to coat his palm. He watched with curious wonder as his father's deep brown eyes wide and alert, snapped right to left. His brown, aargonhide long coat was soaked to his skin. The thick fabric clung to every curve of his broad-shouldered torso. Aine couldn't see where the red was coming from the brown of the coat so dark from the storm and the corridor they stood, didn't allow his eyes to see its source.

His father's chest rose and fell rapidly in fast breaths. The rush from Aine's room in the boy's dormitory had set both their hearts racing. He couldn't tell what time it was, looking out the only window in the hall only seeing darkness, but a flash exploded across the heavens with a crack that signaled the storm was overhead. He jumped not expecting the loudness of the lightning. The storm had blown in very quickly as if it had been chasing his father. Only minutes ago, it had been down pouring with strong winds. He turned back to his father, his body visibly shaking. Why had he come to the academy in the middle of the night? In the middle of a storm?

Aine should've been in bed instead of standing in a cold, dark, hallway with thunder clapping across the black. His mouth stretched yawning wide. Instead, he had been woken in a hurry, a bed-rattling shake from his father.

When he'd jumped awake at his father's beckoning, he knew to be quiet from the finger at his father's mouth.

Once out of the dormitory room where Aine slept with other boys in his year, his father pulled him along a series of corridors, sometimes seeming like they double backed as if he had gotten lost. Or was trying to lose someone.

Aine had held onto his father's hand tightly, even in his tired and groggy state.

He could still feel the softness to his father's fingers wrapped securely around his small hand. His father didn't tend fields like the Taurus' and Virgos, or wield swords like the Leos, or even forge the weapons like the Capricorns. His father was a Sagittarius, and they were the bakers of the kingdom. His hands smooth as silk, always in soft oil, kneading dough and mixing batter. Flour often painted his parent's, his mother was also a Sagittarius, in white patches.

"Papa?" Another yawn. This one caused his word to come out slurred and drawn.

"Aine." His father crouched down in front of him.

He would remember the way his father's boots squeaked as the rubber soles slid across the slick floor. The balls of his feet turned him to face his son.

He took his son gently, both hands on Aine's shoulders, and pulled him close. Aine stumbled into the strong embrace.

His face was pressed into his father's coat, and he could smell it, the wet animal hide. Dirt, animal, and wet filled his nostrils. But there was something else too. A metallic bite that hid beneath the wet animal smell.

He felt the bump of his father's chin on the top of his head as he spoke. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." His father moved him back so he could once again see him. "You need to promise me something."

Lightning flashed across the sky again. The flash lit up the narrow hall. A banner was strung across from the open window and with the light from the storm he could read the words stitched its center, the strong survive. Saziel's motto.

Aine nodded and rubbed an eye with his knuckles. He could feel sleep still waiting behind his eyes, even as awake as the storm had jolted him.

"This is very important," Aine's father said. His voice rose in pitch. "Are you listening? You're six now, and six means you're a big kid."

Aine stared at his father. His brown eyes normally weren't so wide. But in that moment, they were alert and full. Aine could see all the white around the brown. His face had stretched taught with his brows rising to meet his hairline.

"Aine!" A sharp tone and a rough shake.

"Yes, papa. I'm listening to you."

"I need you to remember this." His father's eyes had narrowed, but still glistened. A gleam that struck Aine with a trickle of fear. "My boy, you're going to grow up so strong," his voice now shook. "Remember to use that head of yours." He tapped a finger against Aine's brow. "You're smart when you apply yourself." He peered at him closely.

As Aine stared at him, he felt a prickling at the corners of his eyes.

"If nothing else you need–" He grabbed Aine's arms tightly and squeezed. Aine would never forget the look his father wore. "You need to remember this!"

The tears finally spilled. "Papa you're scaring me!" He choked on a sob and let out a moan.

"Shh... Shh..."

His father buried Aine's face into the coat again, more to stifle his cries, and rubbed his back in gentle circles. When his father let go it was after his sobbing had lessened.

"Aine. I didn't mean– Aine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He patted down Aine's sleeves where he had crumpled them under his tight clutch. He withdrew his hands slowly. "Aine," his tone calmer, steadier. "Don't forget this, your life will depend on it."

A sniffle echoed loudly as he nodded.

"When you feel all is lost, even that fate is against you, search out and seek the tree that sits on a knoll. It lies at the edge of the Sea of Sand and at the tree's center all your questions will be answered."

Aine watched his father as he grimaced, suddenly clutching at his side. A quick glance brought his father's face back to his. It was heavily wrinkled now.

The wild look had even returned to his dark eyes. "Don't forget, Aine. Your mum and I love you very much. I must go now, but don't forget what I just told you. Do you remember what I said?"

Aine nodded.

This time his voice whispered like wind. "You must not repeat what I have said, and Aine, don't tell anyone you've seen me."

His hands were on Aine's shoulders again for one last time, but they lacked the strength his grip had earlier.

"Repeat to me what I just said to you." His voice was hushed, wispy even. Aine wouldn't understand until he was much older, but his father had been struggling to get words out.

Aine repeated it.

Hisfather kissed the top of his head, hesitating a second before drawing back.Aine heard the deep pants his father was making just to breathe. "You're goingto be a great man, Aine. I wish I could be there to see it."