Sam sits in the very first row, a surly-looking girl with a mess of braids sitting next to him. He looks right at me, smiles and mouths hey.
Then, the commotion really starts.
“Look!” screams a Japanese girl, and it takes me a second to realize she’s pointing at us.
A murmur goes through the crowd as everyone notices us sitting around the table. At first, they all talk at once, peppering us with questions that I can’t even distinguish. Slowly, the room goes quiet. A respectful silence eventually falls. These are the human Garde. I can only imagine how bat-shit insane this whole thing is for them.
And now, I realize, they’re waiting for us to explain the situation.
I look around our table. Ella is still completely spaced out. Next to her, Setrákus Ra thrashes and struggles. Adam and Five both look like they’re about to hide under the table. Even Marina is blushing and looking uncomfortable. Unlike the others, Nine grins, nodding to as many people in the crowd as he can.
“What up,” he says. A few people in the audience snicker.
Obviously, one of us needs to say something more substantive than that.
John stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. “It’s the dude from YouTube,” I hear someone whisper, and from the other side of the room someone else says, “It’s John Smith.” John looks at all the different faces, trying not to appear overwhelmed. I see Sam flash him a thumbs-up. John takes a deep breath, then hesitates. He turns to Ella.
“Do they all, uh, speak English?”
“I’m translating,” Ella answers simply, her eyes glowing intensely.
I don’t know when the hell she learned to do that. I’m not going to question it, though, and apparently neither is John.
“Hi,” John says, holding up his hand. A few people in the crowd mutter greetings. “My name’s John Smith. We’re what’s left of the Loric.”
John walks around the table. He ends up standing right next to Setrákus Ra.
“I guess you probably saw what we saw, right? Well, that story ends with Setrákus Ra here coming back to our planet, Lorien, and massacring everyone on it. Everyone except for us.” He lets this sink in for a moment before continuing. “If you aren’t sure what that has to do with you, well, maybe you’ve noticed all the alien warships on the news? Setrákus Ra is here. He’s going to do to Earth what he did to Lorien. Unless we stop him.”
John tries to make eye contact with as many people in the audience as possible. He’s really doing the whole leader thing pretty well.
“I don’t mean we as in my, uh, friends here sitting around the table,” John continues. “I mean you and us. Everyone in this room.”
That gets the kids in the crowd murmuring. The crying Hawaiian kid has at least stopped sobbing long enough to listen, but now I see his eyes darting around for an exit.
“I know this seems crazy. It also probably doesn’t seem fair,” John continues. “A few days ago, you were leading normal lives. Now, without warning, there are aliens on your planet and you can move objects with your minds. Right? I mean . . . is there anyone here that can’t do telekinesis yet?”
A few hands go up, including the crying boy’s.
“Oh, wow,” John says. “So you guys must be really confused. Try it when you get out of here. Just, uh . . . visualize something in your house moving through the air. Really focus on it. It’ll work, I promise. You’ll amaze yourself and probably freak out your parents.” John thinks for a moment. “Has anyone developed any other powers, besides telekinesis? We call them Legacies, by the way. Anyone else . . . ?”
A guy in one of the middle rows stands up. He’s stout with a shock of brown hair and he reminds me of a stuffed animal. When he speaks it’s with a slight German accent.
“My name is Bertrand,” he says, nervously looking around. “My family, we are beekeepers. Yesterday, I noticed, um, the bees . . . they talk to me. I thought I was going crazy but the swarm goes where I tell them to, so . . .”
“What a nerd,” Nine whispers to me. “Beekeeper.”
John claps his hands. “That’s amazing, Bertrand. That’s really quick to develop a Legacy. I promise the rest of you will get them too, and they won’t all be talking to insects. We can train you how to use them. We have people that know, people with experience . . .” Here, John glances around the table. I guess we’re all going to be Cêpan now. “Anyway, there’s a reason you’re getting these Legacies, especially now. In case you haven’t figured it out yet . . . it’s because you’re supposed to help us defend the Earth.”
That really gets the gallery talking. Some people actually cheer like they’re ready to fight, but mostly they murmur uncertainly, talking among themselves.
“John . . . ,” Ella says, her teeth now gritted. “Speed it up, please.”
I glance at Setrákus Ra. His thrashing is getting more and more forceful.
John raises both his hands for quiet. “I’m not going to lie and say what I’m asking you to do isn’t dangerous. It most definitely is. I’m asking you to leave your lives behind, to leave your families behind and join us in a fight that started in an entirely different galaxy.”
Something about the way John says all this makes me think he’s practiced it before. I notice he glances towards the girl sitting next to Sam. She smirks at him.
“I obviously can’t make you join us. In a few minutes, you’ll wake up from this little meeting back wherever you were before. Where it’s safe, hopefully. And maybe those of us who do fight, maybe the armies of the world, all of us . . . maybe that will be enough. Maybe we can fight off the Mogadorians and save Earth. But if we fail, even if you stay on the sidelines for this battle . . . they will come for you. So, I’m asking you all, even though you don’t know me, even though we’ve royally shaken up your lives—stand with us. Help us save the world.”
“Hell yeah,” Nine says, clapping for John. “You heard him, newbs. Quit being wimps and join the goddamn fight!”
The respectful silence that had mostly held during John’s speech breaks when Nine opens his mouth, like we’re in a press conference all of a sudden. There are shouted questions from every direction.
“Is that a Mogadorian at the table?”
“Go back to your galaxy, freaks!”
“How do I quit breaking stuff with my telekinesis?”
“I want to go home!”
“How can we stop them?”
“What’s with your eye patch, bro?”
“Can that scary guy see us?”
“Why do they want to kill us?”
And then, rising above the cacophony, a lanky guy with a bleached-blond Mohawk in the style of some long-retired punk rocker stands up on his seat and stomps down hard. I guess the sturdiness of his combat boots translates to the dreamworld because the sound is loud enough to shut everyone up.
“You lot are in America, right, mate?” the punk asks John, speaking with a thick English accent. “Let’s say I did want to join the fight and take it to these pasty wankers. How the hell am I supposed to get to you? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no bloody transatlantic flights on account of the giant spacecrafts.”
John rubs the back of his neck, uncertain. “I . . .”
Ella’s hands tense on the table. “I can answer that,” she says, her voice ringing and melodious, definitely not Ella. This is Legacy speaking through her.
Above us, dots of light on the world map steadily brighten. Everyone turns their attention to the ceiling. I remember the brightest ones as the locations of the Loralite stones we used to teleport, but there are more, dimmer lights taking shape all over the globe.
“These are the locations of Loralite stones,” Ella says. “The brightest ones have existed on this planet for a very long time. The others are only now beginning to grow as I bond with the Earth. Soon, they will surface.”
Marina speaks up. “We needed . . .” She falters, gathers herself. “We needed a teleporting Legacy to use tho
se before.”
“Not anymore. Not now that I have awoken,” Legacy intones via Ella. “The Loralite are attuned to your Legacies. When you are close, you will feel their pull. All you need do is touch one of them and picture the location of another stone. The Loralite will do the rest.”
“Is that Stonehenge?” the Brit asks, squinting up at the map. “All right, then. That’s doable.”
“Uh, I think one of those is in Somalia,” says someone else.
“There will be more changes to your environment—,” Ella continues, but cuts off suddenly, shaking violently. Her hands grip the table and actually melt into the wood, sparks hissing out from her. When she next speaks, it’s with her own voice, not Legacy’s.
“He’s breaking through!” Ella screams.
The glowing chains binding Setrákus Ra to his seat shatter. The broken links clatter across the table yet harmlessly pass right through us. Ella must’ve lost her telepathic hold on Setrákus Ra’s mute button. He’s no longer isolated from the rest of us. In one fluid motion, the former Elder and current leader of the Mogadorians stands up, his chair toppling over behind him, and whips off his hood. People in the gallery scream and begin to scramble out of their benches, although there’s nowhere for them to go.
First, Setrákus Ra rests a hand on Ella’s shoulder. The light in her eyes flares, but otherwise she doesn’t move. She maintains her focus. Not getting a reaction from his granddaughter, he turns to look at the closest Garde. That just happens to be Five. Setrákus Ra grins.
“Hello, boy. Would you like to be the first to kneel?”
Five recoils in terror, backing away from the table. The Garde are standing up now. I’m ready to charge but, next to me, Nine doesn’t seem all that concerned.
“He can’t do anything in here,” Nine says to me. “Figured that out when I tried to beat Five’s ass.”
Setrákus Ra swings his gaze towards the human Garde in the audience. I know what he’s doing. He’s memorizing faces.
“He can do something,” I say. “Don’t let him see them, Ella! Get us out of here!”
“I don’t know what they told you!” Setrákus Ra bellows at the audience. “I assure you, it is foolishness. If you saw what I saw, then you know how the Loric attempted to murder me for the crime of curiosity. Come! Swear allegiance to your Beloved Leader and I will show you how to truly harness your powers.”
No one in the crowd rushes out to pledge their allegiance to the psychotic Mogadorian, but many of them look justifiably terrified.
“I’m releasing you,” Ella says. “It’ll happen quickly. Be ready.”
And then, the light in her eyes goes dark. She slumps over. I hope that’s not the last time I ever get to speak with her.
“Six . . .” It’s John. He is standing right next to me. “We’ll be in touch soon. Bring everyone back safe.”
Then he and Nine abruptly wink out of existence.
The map on the ceiling begins to fade. The room starts to get dimmer. The vision is ending.
Many of the new Garde have already disappeared, returning to the real world. Sam and that girl next to him are already gone. There are still some left in the gallery, though, and Setrákus Ra zeroes in on them.
“I’ve seen your faces!” Setrákus Ra shouts at the humans, totally ignoring the rest of us. “I will hunt you! I will kill you! I will—”
Well, I’m not going to let this go on.
I hop up on the table, bound across it and put myself right in Setrákus Ra’s face. He stops his rant, his black, empty eyes staring right into mine. I bounce from foot to foot like a prizefighter.
“Hey, fucker,” I say. “When we wake up, I’m going to kill you.”
“We’ll see,” Setrákus Ra replies.
I feel it start to happen. My body here becomes transparent. The details of the room become fuzzy. I can smell the smoke from the fires around the Sanctuary, can feel the dust on my skin. I need to move fast. I’m willing my muscles to snap to as soon as I’m able.
“Let’s go!” I shout. “LET’S GO!”
It’s time to end this.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
IT HAPPENS FAST. AS REAL AS THE DREAMWORLD felt, it didn’t do justice to the physical weight of actually having a body. Shoved unceremoniously back where I belong, all the sensations hit me anew. The heat from the fires, the choking dust, my aching muscles. My knees go weak from the impact of it all. I was unconscious for a moment there and my body went limp as a result. I can’t entirely stop myself from falling over.
I crash right into Setrákus Ra as he stumbles, too. The big bastard is as disoriented as I am. I hear a thump at my feet and realize Setrákus Ra has lost his grip on Adam’s sword.
With a scream, I shove him away from me with as much force as I can muster. I scrape my hands on the overlapping metal plates of his armor.
Come on, Six. Come on!
I regain my balance before Setrákus Ra does. It only gives me a second or two of advantage, but that’s all I need. I somersault forward, grab Adam’s sword and am swinging it for Setrákus Ra’s head the instant I pop back to my feet.
At the last second, Setrákus Ra gets his forearm up. The blade sinks into his armor with a metallic shriek. Dark blood spurts out as I pull the sword back. I hoped to at least lop off his arm, but the armor was too strong and I’ve only cut him. Even so, Setrákus Ra’s eyes are wide—I think he knows how close he came. He forces a smile, though, his balance regained, eyes locked onto mine.
“Too slow, girl,” he growls. “Now let’s see if you can really do what you promised.”
I grit my teeth in response and swing with all my might. Setrákus Ra easily deflects the blade aside with one of his armored fists, avoiding the blade’s edge this time, and then kicks me right in the stomach. The wind goes out of me and I’m knocked clear off my feet, landing hard in the dirt. I roll to the side immediately to dodge his follow-up stomp, which probably would’ve caved my whole face in.
The blade gets caught underneath me as I roll, making a shallow slice in my upper thigh. I never really trained with swords before, never saw the point. Definitely wish I had now. Without my Legacies, it’s the only weapon I have against Setrákus Ra. He’s stronger than me and just as fast. I’m starting to think that I should’ve listened to Marina.
Speaking of Marina, as I come back to my feet with a few yards between me and Setrákus Ra, I glance around for her. There she is—dragging Adam’s unconscious body up the far side of the crater. As I watch, blaster fire bites into the dirt around her and she’s forced to take cover behind a pile of limestone bricks right on the crater’s lip. From the direction of the shooting, it seems like the Mogs have regrouped around the entrance ramp to the Anubis. The massive warship still hovers over us, its gunmetal underbelly our new sky.
I backpedal as Setrákus Ra comes at me, dodging a couple of big overhand strikes from his metal-plated fists. When I dance out of range of his strikes, he uses telekinesis to fling a few loose pieces of brick at me. I bat them away with my sword, hands sweating on the grip.
“Where is your bravado now, child?” he asks. “Why do you run?”
Let him go on thinking that I’m retreating. I mean, I am retreating. It’s just not all that I’m doing. My real goal is to draw Setrákus Ra as far away from Marina’s side of the crater as possible. Once she’s out of his Legacy-canceling radius and can successfully heal Adam, we might be able to turn the tide.
As I duck under another rock, I see Marina cradle Adam’s head and press her hands against his face. Her Legacies must be working! Now I just need to keep playing cat-and-mouse until—
Oof.
The backs of my feet hit an object and I fall over backwards. My landing is cushioned by something soft and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s Ella’s body I’ve tripped over. She’s pale, completely still, and there’s a coagulated trail of black ooze leaking from both her nostrils. She still looks very much dead. I d
on’t have time to check for a pulse. Setrákus Ra stands right over me.
He actually pauses. Ella’s body has thrown him off his game. I’m not good at reading that wrinkled face and empty black eyes, but if I had to guess I’d say Setrákus Ra is feeling some creepy mixture of remorse and disappointment. He cared about his granddaughter in the grossest way possible, wanting to turn her into a monster just like him. I hope it eats him up inside to know how badly he failed.
“She hated everything about you,” I say, then bring the sword up point-first for Setrákus Ra’s groin.
Setrákus Ra tries to pivot away. The blade grazes across the armored cup he’s wearing, but then I get lucky. The sword’s point grinds to the side, finds a gap in the armor plates and digs deep into the inside of his upper thigh. Setrákus Ra barks in pain as I gash him, viscous black blood spraying down his leg.
“You little bitch!” he bellows. In response, I grab a handful of dirt and sling it into his eyes.
I’m already on my feet, running again, looking for more gaps in his armor. The spots are mostly around his joints to allow for flexibility—his elbows, his knees and of course, his head and scarred neck. That’s where I have to aim for.
“This has gone on long enough!” Setrákus Ra yells, and I don’t think he just means this fight right now. Hunting us for years has frustrated the old man, and now we’re trying to thwart his carefully laid invasion plans. He’s losing his temper. I can use that. It makes him fight stupid.
[Lorien Legacies 06.0] The Fate of Ten Page 26
