The 13th Sign Part 8

I felt someone staring at me. A pet.i.te woman with tight curls springing out from under a captain's hat. Rather, it was a horrible mesh baseball hat that read CAPTAIN in script. She wore an orange vest with yellow reflective strips on it, and she was studying me. I held my breath. No mist.

When we reached the ferry itself, I paused. I fought the urge to do what my dad used to do: He'd pause here, too, and yell, "Permission to board, Captain?" Every time. It made me howl with laughter when I was a kid. The other pa.s.sengers would smile and laugh, too.

I looked around for some sign, something that would tell me to stay off this boat. Every time I'd tried to get on a boat since my dad had disappeared, I would see a sign, something warning me to stay away. Today-nothing. Were the signs still there and, as an Ophiuchus, I just couldn't see them now? Before, I would've seen a sign. Or maybe...would've made one up? But today, not even the huge orange patches of rust coating the vessel could turn me away.

I pushed back my shoulders and stepped over the inch-wide crack that separated the terminal from the boat, the crack that separated land from water. It felt like I was stepping over a canyon. I threw my head back and laughed.

The woman watching me, the captain, nodded and climbed the stairs to the steering room at the tip-top of the boat. Brennan, Dillon, the Ellies, and I entered the huge, hollow seating area. There weren't many people on board. I supposed this early on a Sat.u.r.day morning was always slow.

Brennan and I plopped into chairs that looked like scoops of sherbet. Dillon dropped his tuba with a thud and fell into a nearby seat. He gripped his head and immediately turned a lovely shade of puke green. I thought of his ankle and sat up. "Are you okay?" I asked him. "You don't look so hot."

He swallowed, nodded, then swallowed again. "Boats. Water. Not my thing. Ferry ride's quick, though. I'll be alright." Brennan nodded with sympathy. And, boy, did I ever understand being afraid of boats.

The Ellies buzzed around Dillon like gadflies, asking, "Are you alright, Dillon?" and "Do you need anything, Dillon?" One Ellie trying to out-Ellie the other. Maddening.

Seeing two Ellies here surprised me; I had hoped Fake Ellie would disappear around all these other humans. But even though it was a small crowd, it was still a crowd, where everyone makes a habit of overlooking everyone else. She didn't need to disappear in a crowd. It was probably very safe for her here.

My eyes closed almost immediately. The air smelled like fish and salt and mud-the earth-meets-river-meets-sea smell that always hung over New Orleans's riverfront. The gentle rocking took me back to my dad's boat, a small, rusted fishing thing that was barely big enough to be called a dingy. I inhaled. I'd missed this.

My chin knocked against my chest and my head snapped up. I needed to move, or risk falling asleep. Asleep! I couldn't make myself that vulnerable!

"Want to go for a walk?" I asked Brennan.

He nodded. We climbed the stairs to the third level of the ferry, the open-air level. Fresh air was what I needed.

At the top of the steel staircase, the woman from the terminal, the one wearing the captain's hat, looked down on us, hands on hips. We hadn't yet left the dock.

"You two come with me," she ordered. She turned and strode toward the next level of stairs, expecting us to follow. Brennan and I froze.

The captain paused, turned, and shifted what I thought was a huge glob of chewing tobacco from one cheek to another. But then she blew a bubble, a huge, pink, quivering bubble. It popped with a snap when she sucked it back into her mouth.

"Come," she said around the wad in her mouth. She jerked her head toward the next set of stairs, to the very top of the ferry. "You'll want to see the steering room."

It wasn't a question. But she was being nice. She'd seen me hesitate before getting on the boat, and she wanted to help. And if I were being honest, yes, I wanted to see the steering room! I'd wanted to since I was a kid, since I first started thinking of this ferry as a big floating cake. Since my dad squatted down and pointed up, up, up at the flapping flags and the spinning radar thingies and said in a hush, "Jalen, that's where the captain stands." I nodded and followed.

The captain unlocked a chain strung across the next set of stairs. On the chain, a sign dangled: WARNING! RESTRICTED AREA! We climbed the stairs toward the captain's roost.

As I was climbing, I became woozy. My head felt like it was filled with whooshing air. I became very aware of how high above the water we were, how high in the air I now stood. Four stories up! I swallowed.

I'd never been afraid of heights before. In school I'd scale the rock wall to the roof of the gym. When we'd toured the local theater, I was the only one who'd been brave enough to climb out on the catwalk and learn about stage lighting. I froze and started shaking. The captain smiled and extended her hand down to me. I nodded, took it, and edged up the stairs. Her hand was callused from hard work.

The captain stood behind the wheel, and the boat slowly chugged out of port. It was noisy, rattling progress-this old boat straining against the powerful Mississippi River current. But I was more comfortable inside this tiny room, surrounded by walls and gadgets.

And then I smiled to myself-I was on a boat. Once I looked past all the dials and gadgets and flashing lights, I noticed the view. It made me slightly dizzy at first, looking out. But this view of New Orleans couldn't be beat. The Crescent City Connection Bridge draped over the river to our left. I secretly stuck out my tongue at it-See me, on a boat? I don't need you anymore, bridge! The white spires of the Saint Louis Cathedral poked the sky, up and to the right. Straight ahead were the towering hotels and glittering buildings of downtown New Orleans, and the mirrory green roundness of the Audubon Aquarium.

"Take the wheel," the captain said. Her breath smelled pink. A long lock of her curly blond hair had freed itself from under the hat and hung past her shoulders.

My heart skipped. "Really?"

She smiled, a goofy, lopsided grin around her glob of gum. "Yes, really."

I stepped up to the wheel, a U-shaped thing, and paused just before gripping it. I could feel the power leaping out of that captain's wheel into my fingers. The power to chart my own course. I'd be the one in control. It'd been so long since I felt in control. I needed this. Deserved it. My hands wrapped around the wheel. Orange warmth flamed inside me and energized me to my toes. I was steering the Algiers Ferry!

I turned, briefly, to look back at Algiers Point, slowly getting smaller behind us. It was so different from the downtown side of the river. Trees and gra.s.s and homes dotted the west bank. The expanse of water between us and land, between us and home, grew.

We were so vulnerable here.

"Look at that." The captain's voice beside me had turned from powdery pink to mirrored steel. "You've got water in your veins. Just like your dad."

My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. My dad?

I realized now who I was up against. I should never have agreed to steer.

The captain fizzled away, disappearing into a thick fog that filled the room with sulfur stink. Brennan scrambled to unlock the door. The mist twirled and twined, the script on the baseball hat thinning out, then spiraling, solidifying into ma.s.sive curled horns. The hair-long, flowing, golden curls that had been tucked under the hat-fell, then turned to near stone. A thick skull soon covered itself with smelly matted fur. Snorting nostrils, no longer breathing pink puffs of bubble-gum air but musty, gamy steam. Shoulders that stretched ever higher, over six feet. Hooves pounding on the metal floor of the steering room. A short, twitching tail.

The captain of this ship? Aries the ram.

Brennan had managed to make it out of the captain's room onto the stairs leading down to the seating area. But I had been greedy. I'd wanted to stand at the control panel-just this once-and feel like I was the one charting the course.

My instinct was to grab the stool behind me. It was, of course, bolted to the floor. The mist was clearing now, and the ram filled almost every inch of this room. Her flanks twitched. Rather, his. The female captain? Now a male ram. His head thrashed from side to side. I guessed the captain hadn't thought of the consequences of morphing into a ram in this tiny room. Impulsive. Just like an Aries.

In trying to turn, the ram's horn jammed in the ferry's control panel. Sparks shot forth. The lights flickered, and the hum of the engine died. There were just a handful of pa.s.sengers below, but I heard their groans over the ram's snorts as the ferry lost power.

The ferry was drifting now. At the whim of the powerful Mississippi River. The Coast Guard would come soon. Was that good or bad?

Bad, I decided. They'd catch me and lock me in a room filled with questions. No time for that.

Brennan stood at the top of the narrow stairway leading down. "Jalen!" His voice sounded small, coming to me around this beast. There was nothing in this cabin to use as a weapon; everything was bolted down or attached. I'd have to squeeze past Aries to the door. And I had to do it now, while his horn was still trapped. I pressed against the wall and inched toward the exit.

Aries stomped his hooves, trying to free his jammed horn. The din of his feet pounding against the metal floor and echoing around this tiny room was deafening. The floor dented and warped. I hugged the wall and continued around the room, trying not to slide under those ma.s.sive, crushing hooves.

The door was a few feet away now, but Aries's hindquarters blocked my exit. I put my hands on his wiry fur and pushed gently.

One does not push an Aries gently. His fury exploded, his hind legs bucking and kicking. The control panel sparked and fizzled. His mighty horns lifted toward the ceiling. He shook them with obvious pride. He had freed himself. I had to leave now.

He was trying to turn to face me. I pushed once more-no, shoved-his hindquarters and reached the doorway.

As I did, I was launched forward, chest first, like I had a rocket pack strapped to my back. Pain exploded through me, back to front. Aries had kicked me, hard, onto the stairs. I instantly got dizzy, flying forward, four stories up. The sensation of being kicked coupled with being so high up made me feel as though I were sailing through the air for hours, rather than seconds. I gripped the first thing I saw.

Brennan. I landed on top of him, knocking his feet out from under him. Together we skidded, thump, thump, thump down the metal stairs.

At the bottom, I leaped to my feet, then pulled Brennan up. "You alright?"

He blinked, rubbed the back of his head, shook it off. "Yeah. I think."

I c.o.c.ked my ear up at the stairwell; yes, the ram was still trapped in that small room for the moment. Our feet pounded down the next set of metal stairs and into the seating area.

"Ellie, Dillon-Aries."

Dillon's head popped up. "Where?"

But I didn't need to answer him. The banging on metal grew closer. Aries had freed himself from the room and was clomping down the stairs. He curled through the entryway and emerged from the stairwell, a majestic, horrible sight. He stood at the base of the stairs, scanned the lobby, and found us. His eyes tightened.

I slid my hand toward the nearest Ellie. "Give me the book," I whispered. Ellie slowly, painstakingly withdrew The Keypers of the Zodiack and eased it toward me. Aries took in our every movement. But he wasn't readying himself to charge, not yet. He was enjoying watching us squirm.

I slowly flipped through the pages and found the entry: "Aries, the ram. April 19May 13. Thou art the leader of the Zodiack, Aries, and as such, thou hast the confidence, ambition, and determination to tackle the rocky challenges thou adorest. Thy will to succeed is so strong that thou canst be brash, impatient, and stubborn in thy pursuits. Yet thou art a master of finding solutions. Find one for thine own self! Thy legions of friends art more than eager to help, and thy confidence and enthusiasm ensure a lifetime of camaraderie. Make certain, however, that thine ambitions eclipse not thy friendships: Thou hast lost companions in thy quest to remain on top. Thou prize winning above all else, and thou will stop at naught to remain commander o'er all."

I folded the book shut. I raised my eyes, locking into a staring contest with Aries. I didn't tear my eyes away to look about the ferry; I knew a handful of commuters were scattered around. Was this really where this Challenge would take place?

A bra.s.sy flash flared to my left. I thought I saw Dillon flip open his tuba case and yank the instrument out, but I didn't dare break my power stare with Aries to check. Really? His tuba? Now?!

The Ellie standing next to me seemed to be watching Dillon, too. "Go, Leo!" she shouted. "You can do this!"

I straightened and Aries snorted. I whipped toward Ellie. The look on her face told me she knew she'd made a huge mistake by saying that.

"Leo?" I asked. My gaze narrowed at her, at this fake. "What do you mean, Leo?"

But I'd made a mistake, too. I'd taken my eyes off Aries. I heard the pounding of hooves on metal, felt the floor vibrate from a mighty animal charging. Ellie shoved me, hard. "Move!" she yelled, and vanished. I landed on my tailbone and skidded across the metal floor of the ferry.

Ma.s.sive, sh.e.l.l-like horns rammed into the metal side of the boat, punching a dent in the spot where I'd stood just seconds before. The ferry teetered in the water under the impact. A few pa.s.sengers screamed. My heart thudded in my ears. I cut my eyes away from the thick yellow hooves of the beast just feet away and toward Dillon. He marched toward us, wearing his tuba, still greenish and swaying from the rocking boat. But he was doing a n.o.ble job fighting his seasickness.

"You've ruled the zodiac for long enough, Aries," he purred. "Time for new management."

And then he pounced. The bra.s.sy tuba flashed under the too-white neon lights of the ferry-blam!-like a firework, an explosion of light and mist. As Dillon flew through the air, he morphed. Through the fog I could see the shadow of his tuba, still around his waist, turn from shiny, solid bra.s.s into sleek, coa.r.s.e fur and taut muscle. The circle of the tuba horn quivered and tossed, transforming into a magnificent mane. One last blast wailed through Dillon's horn, but it sounded less like a tuba and more like a...roar.

When he landed on soft, nimble paws, his metamorphosis was complete. He snarled.

Dillon was Leo, the lion. And he was here to take control of the zodiac.

Leo and Aries crouched and circled one another like two beasts in the wild, readying themselves to fight to the death. Except this was the wild of New Orleans. And these beasts couldn't exactly fight to the death, could they?

Ellie and Brennan eased over to me. Ellie-my wonderful, true friend Ellie. The fake Ellie had exposed herself, had vanished, but my friend was here. I squeezed her hand so tight I thought I might crush it. She tugged me toward the staircase. "Let them duke it out themselves," she whispered.

I nodded, but I knew immediately that it felt wrong. Aries snorted and shoved a twisted horn in Leo's face, showing off its size. He was bragging (like an Aries) that Leo's flesh was about to be ripped off its bones. Leo, in turn, growled a low, fierce grumble that filled the ferry like thunder. He was (like a Leo) telling Aries to bring it.

I couldn't let them fight. Somehow I knew-I had to be the one to defeat them, or I would lose. And I couldn't just let Dillon-no, Leo!-take over the zodiac. There had been too many changes already. No, I'd have to intervene.

Leo, brash and bold, took the first swipe. With a roar, his sharp claws raked across Aries's flanks and left four raw, meaty rips across the flesh. Aries bellowed, writhed, and kicked Leo in the ribs. The crack of bone was sickening. Leo skidded across the metal floor with a whimper. The ferry rocked violently with the shift of bulk.

One of the other pa.s.sengers screamed and pointed at us. "It's them! It's those three!" The other pa.s.sengers nodded, their faces twisting in a flash, morphing from generic faces in a crowd to the soured faces of a mob.

I didn't have much time. I zipped through the copy of The Keypers of the Zodiack still in my sweaty hands.

"Leo, the lion. July 23August 22. Leo, thou art a powerful force, though thy temperament shifts as the winds from creative to destructive. Thy demands to be at the center of all are usually rewarded, which makes thee confident and dignified, yet boastful and attention-seeking. The generosity thou possessest is not without fault, as thou demandest both recognition and appreciation. Thine instincts are akin to an animal's, not surprising, as pride defines thee above all. Thy dependence on risk and luck, while exciting and entertaining to all, can make thy friends feel like mere props in thy games. Be warned that thou art p.r.o.ne to overlook small details, and that oft results in loss. Beware all distractions, Leo. Like the cat for which thou art named, thy distractions are many and potentially deadly."

Aries had speared Leo with the tip of his horn and hefted him to his feet, goading him to keep fighting. Leo was weak, I realized, from being on this ferry. Cats and water-not a good mix. This battle would end quickly if I didn't do something fast.

The two beasts tossed and tumbled and growled while the ferry rocked and swayed and pitched; no way could I step in the middle of all those teeth and horns and claws. I looked around the ferry for something, anything I could use as a weapon. I found nothing.

And then I saw it, the thing that had been my most powerful weapon all night. In my very own hands.

I held the copy of The Keypers of the Zodiack over the side of the boat. Of the two, I knew which would be more likely to take this bait. I whistled a shrill, loud blast. Whistled! Another thing I'd never been able to do before.

Both beasts froze and turned their black eyes to me. Both saw the book-their book, The Keypers of the Zodiack-at risk. I wriggled the book with my wrist, teasing the two animals. Sure enough, Leo's eyes tore away from Aries and followed every twitch of the text.

"Here, kitty kitty," I whispered. Leo crouched, ready to pounce on the book.

He snarled and his fangs glinted. His tail cracked like a whip. Then his black eyes narrowed and shifted to me. He roared, announcing that he was about to pounce on his prey.

Me. His prey was me.

No, no, no! This was not the plan! "Leo!" I said, waving the book madly. His eyes were drawn back to it. "Here, kitty!"

Hope I'm right about this, I thought.

"Come and get it!" I hurled the book overboard. The pages flapped in the wind, down, down, down toward the mighty, muddy Mississippi.

And Leo leaped.

"Dillon!" Ellie screamed.

"The book!" Brennan yelled.

Leo scrambled over the guardrail and jumped after the book. He curled back his lips, bared his mighty teeth, and sank them into the pages of the book. He splashed into the river with the impact of a car crash.

Aries bellowed behind us and charged. The three of us scattered like drops of blood as Aries drove his horn into the guardrail. The four-inch metal crushed under the weight of his blow. He struggled to right himself after his battle with Leo.

I had just enough time to look down to where Leo had landed in the river. His paws clawed at the surface, grasping for something solid. His lion's body looked small, sharp, pointed when wet, rather than the sleek, muscular shape he had when dry. He tried to roar one final time but ended up sinking below the murky water. His roar reached us in a sickening gurgle. My heart squeezed. I hoped Dillon didn't feel a thing.

A tear slid down Ellie's cheek. "Bye, Dillon."

The water began to burble and boil, and off the surface rose a fog-like mist. A burst of light shone below the murky depths. Leo shot forth in a gush and pranced toward the heavens. But unlike the others, he paused. He looked back at us, and Dillon's voice came through in a roar: "Thanks for being such fun playthings."

Leo's birthstone clanked to the floor of the ferry. Aries pounced and kicked it. It slid like a hockey puck toward the edge of the boat and clinked against the guardrail, threatening to topple into the river. Brennan dove for it and scooped it up just before it plummeted into the water. He tossed the stone to me. The birthstone was smooth, fiery orange. It took my breath away, that orange stone. It was just like my new world.

"Sic itur ad astra," I chanted. Dillon's stone disappeared, bubbling on the palms of my hands.

My chant was stolen by the clamoring of hooves across the metal seating area. Aries was charging, head lowered, right horn leading the charge, right shoulder c.o.c.ked forward to deliver the mighty blow.

We dove aside. Aries tangled himself in a twist of plastic seats.

Ellie grabbed my hand. "On the next charge, go downstairs," she whispered. Brennan nodded.

Aries freed himself, and his black eyes locked on me. I saw in those black eyes that he not only hated me because I was the Challenger, he hated me for bringing Leo straight to him. Aries scratched the metal floor with his right front hoof, and it sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. My teeth ached at the sound.

In one swift move, Aries lifted his two front legs off the ground, c.o.c.ked his head and his shoulder, and propelled himself at us like a battering ram. The three of us dashed toward the stairs that led to the lowest level of the ferry. Just before we reached the stairs, the ferry listed again under the impact of Aries's blow. Brennan lost his footing and slipped backward. Ellie grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him into the stairwell.

We dashed to the lower level, slamming against the handrails of the stairs as the boat bobbed in the river. Car horns were blaring now, alarms blasting under the jarring force of Aries's mighty horns. Drivers stood next to their cars, shouting, "What's going on up there?"