Thursday, August 30, 2012

The Power of Six - Chapter 33


Chapter 33


I’M HOVERING OVER GRASS. I’M FLOATING OVER a river. I feel wretched
and stiff, and every time I dare to open my eyes, I’m either bouncing over a
log or gliding up a rocky hill. There’s a constant noise, and it takes me
several minutes to realize it’s the sound of Bernie Kosar’s hooves. I’m
draped over his back and we’re moving quickly through the mountains.
“You awake?” Nine asks. I raise my head to see him
sitting behind me, both of our Chests under his arms.
“I don’t know what I am,” I say, closing my eyes. “What …
what happened?”
“You ran right into the blue stuff. That’s the last thing on
Earth, or Lorien, or anywhere, you want to do.” He sounds
pissed, like I just tore him away from his own birthday party.
“What about Setrakus Ra?” I ask.
“Somewhere in the mountain, the coward. I couldn’t find
another way in. And I looked.”
I push myself up BK’s hide in a panic. “Where’s Sam?”
“Not a chance, Four. Your buddy is either long gone, or
he’s hanging upside down staring at the wrong end of a
knife.”
I vomit. Bernie Kosar quickly lowers himself so I can slide
off his back, and then I vomit some more. Nine tries to
explain the sickness will go away soon, that he’s gone
through it several times when he tried to escape his cell,
that the healing stone seems to be powerless against the
force field’s effects, but I’m too dizzy with visions of Sam
being tortured to listen. My sickness is from my betrayal,
not from some Mogadorian force field. I don’t think I’ll ever
be able to forgive myself. It’s my fault he went in there, and
it’s my fault he was left behind. I turned my back on my best
friend.
“We have to go back,” I say. “Sam would go back for
me.”
“Not a chance. Not yet. You’re too much of a mess and
like you said before, we need numbers.”
I pull myself to my feet but fall onto my hands and knees
almost immediately. “You don’t even know where we are.”
“We’re a couple of miles from your car,” Nine says. He
must see the confusion on my face, because he smiles and
pats Bernie Kosar’s back. “Turns out I can talk to animals.
Who knew? Bernie Kosar here is leading the way. Let’s
jet.”
I’m too weak to protest and I climb back up. Bernie
Kosar gallops as fast as he can, his belly brushing the tops
of shrubs and felled trees as he hurdles us over obstacles.
My body aches and I clutch his side as we zigzag up and
down the mountains and hills, splashing through two fastmoving
rivers. The stars slowly reveal themselves, high in
the sky, and I know that one of them, far, far away, is the
slight glimmer of Lorien’s own sun, shining its bright light
upon a hibernating planet.
“So, what’s our next move?” Nine asks as we trot among
the shadows.
I’m silent, wondering what Henri would say our next move
would be. I wonder what kind of look would be on his face.
Would he beam with pride over me retrieving the Chests,
rescuing a member of the Garde and killing so many Mogs
in the process, or would he be disappointed in me for not
taking on the leader when I had the chance, and for leaving
Sam behind?
Visions of Sam locked behind one of those steel doors
come to me every few seconds, and I watch my tears glide
down BK’s neck. I hate to think it, but I’d rather he die than
be tortured for information about me.
I try to blame Sarah for turning us in to the police, but I
can only blame myself for contacting her when everyone
told me not to. I keep quiet and dig my heels into Bernie
Kosar’s hide and he picks up the pace.
Six is somewhere in Spain, hopefully with another
member of the Garde. Part of me wants to get on a plane,
to go directly to her, but with my escape from a federal
facility and my face still on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, I
don’t see how it’s possible.
We make it to the SUV, and I painfully dismount. I unlock
the back door and Nine quietly loads both Chests into the
trunk. Crawling across the backseat, disgusted with myself,
I ask Nine if he’ll drive.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Nine replies. I hand him the
keys and feel the engine come to life.
Something is under my body, and I shift to my side to find
Sam’s dad’s glasses. I hold them above my head, and I let
the moon reflect in the lenses. I suck in a deep breath and
whisper, “We’ll see each other again soon, Sam. I
promise.” And then, when I think things can’t get much
worse, it hits me almost harder than the blue force field. “Oh
shit! Six’s address for when we meet. It was in Sam’s
pocket. I’m so stupid! How are we going to find each other
now?”
Over his shoulder, Nine says, “Don’t worry, Four. Things
are happening for a reason. If we’re supposed to meet up
with Six or Five or whoever, we will. And if Sam is
supposed to still be a part of all this, he will be.”
Bernie Kosar jumps into the backseat in his beagle form
and licks my cheek. I pat his head and let out a long-drawn
sigh, in utter disbelief that after everything that’s gone
wrong in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve also managed to
lose the address Six had written down. I look out the
window to see the wind is blowing to the north, and I
wonder if it might be telling me something, or, at the very
least, pointing me in the right direction as Six believes it’s
done for her.
“Head north,” I say. “I think north would be good.”
“You got it, boss.” Nine steps on the gas and I look over
at Bernie Kosar, who has curled up and fallen asleep.
We bury Hector’s body at the bottom of the dam, where the
white concrete meets the grass.
“He once told me that the key to change is letting go of
fear,” I say, looking into the eyes of Ella, Crayton and Six. “I
don’t know if I’ve let go of fear just yet, but the change is
happening. It’s definitely happening. And I can only hope
that you all can help me through it.”
“We’re a team,” Ella says. “Of course we will.”
After we say our good-byes, we climb the dam’s ladder.
We stand on top of the dam, peering down into the valley
and the lake. On the other side of the dam is a series of
locks holding back a much larger lake, and I can’t help but
think it’s a metaphor for the way I’m feeling right now. In
front of me lies my past, small and distant and dotted with
carnage, threatened to be flooded at any time. Behind me
and my fellow Garde members, the future is massive and
held back by unnatural forces.
I turn to Six and ask, “Do you know a John Smith in Ohio?
Is he one of us?”
Her smile is wide. “I do know John. He’s Number Four.”
I reach for Ella’s hand on my right and Six’s on my left,
and we stand there letting the mountain breeze whip our
hair around our faces. Ella looks over at Six and asks, “Can
we go to America?”
“The charm is broken. I don’t see why we can’t all be
together now.” Six shrugs, turning back to the lake below.
Crayton joins us. “I hate to say this, but it’s the calm
before the storm, ladies. We’re winning far too many battles
for them to ease up now. You’re getting too strong for them,
and they’ll be throwing everything they have at you. No more
small armies with a few hundred soldiers and a couple of
clumsy beasts. Their ruler will be here soon. Setrakus Ra.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Setrakus Ra.” Crayton shakes his head. “And I don’t
think we’re ready for him.”
“Then it’s settled,” I say. “We’re going to Ohio to be with
John Smith.”
“West Virginia, actually. In exactly two weeks,” Six says.
“I’m not sure that’s wise just yet.” Crayton begins walking
away. “We need to gather the others first.”
Six walks after him. “That sounds good and all, but I have
no idea where they are.”
“I do,” Crayton says, not turning around. “I also know
where our Chimaeras are. If Setrakus Ra thinks this is
going to be easy, he’s got another thing coming.”
We follow him, taking the first of many steps down the
opposite side of the dam.

The Power of Six - Chapter 31


Chapter 31


BY THE LOOK ON SAM’S FACE I CAN TELL HE’S just about lost all faith in
getting out of here alive. My own shoulders sag as I stare into the massive
white eyes of the beast that’s rising to its feet in front of us. It takes its time,
stretching its muscular neck, veins as thick as Roman columns protruding
on both sides. The dark skin on its face is dry and cracked like the stone
jutting above its head. With its long arms, it has the look of an alien gorilla.
By the time the giant has pushed itself into a full standing
position, fifty feet tall, the handle of my dagger has melted
itself around my right hand.
“Flank it!” I yell. Sam runs left and I dart right.
Its first move is towards Sam, who immediately turns and
runs along the circular edge of the moat. The beast lumbers
after him, and that’s when I sprint towards it and slide my
dagger right and left, cutting small chunks from its calves. It
rears its head and smashes its nose against the ceiling,
and then swings a hand down at me, one of its fingers
connecting with my back leg. I’m sent spinning into the wall,
where I land on my left shoulder, dislocating it.
“John!” Sam yells.
The giant swings for me again, but I’m able to jump out of
the path of its fist; the giant may be powerful, but it’s slow.
Still, the cave we’re in is not large enough to run very far so,
slow or not, it still has the advantage.
I don’t see Sam anywhere as I stagger from boulder to
boulder. The giant has a hard time following me; and once I
figure I have enough time, I slowly raise my left arm above
my head and rotate my hand so my palm is on the back of
my head. The pain shoots from my neck to my heels; and
before I give in to it, I keep reaching and feel my dislocated
shoulder pop back into place. A sense of relief comes over
me, but it’s short-lived as I look up to see the giant’s palm
right above my head.
I raise my dagger and its blade punctures the beast’s
palm, but it’s not enough to stop it from wrapping its fingers
around me. It picks me up, and the strength of its squeeze
causes the dagger to fall to the ground. I hear its diamond
blade clang; and as I’m turned upside down, I search for it
so I can use my telekinesis to retrieve it.
“Sam! Where are you?”
I’m disoriented as the beast turns me right side up again,
and it holds me a few feet above its nose. Then I see Sam
emerge from a fissure in the wall. He runs and picks up my
blade, and a second later the giant squeals in shock and
pain. It squeezes me hard, and I push back against its
fingers as much as I can. As it stumbles backwards, I’m
able to free my shoulders, arms, and hands. I turn on the
lights of my palms and shine my Lumen directly into its
eyes. It’s instantly blinded and backs into a wall, and that’s
when I’m able to pull the rest of my body free and jump.
Sam tosses me my dagger and I charge at the beast,
plunging the blade into the skin between every toe. The
giant howls. It bends over, and when it does I shine my
Lumen again into its eyes. It loses its balance, and I make a
boulder behind it dislodge and slam into its lower back. The
beast pitches forward, its long arms straight out to break its
fall. Its massive hands land in the moat of steaming green
liquid—and the sound of its searing flesh comes a second
later. I watch as the beast crashes into the base of the
electrical force field and the thick stone pedestals holding
the Chests. The crash disrupts the force field and sends the
pedestals flying across the room, breaking against the
stone. The beast lies unmoving.
“Tell me you planned that,” Sam says, following me
towards the Chests.
“I wish I could,” I say.
I open my Chest to find everything inside, including the
coffee can of Henri’s ashes and the volatile crystal that’s
wrapped in the towel. “Looks good,” I say. Sam picks up
the other Chest.
“What happens when we go through that door?” Sam
says, nodding to the small wooden door we came in
through.
We killed the beast and we have the Chests, but we can’t
turn ourselves invisible and just stroll by a hundred Mogs. I
open my Chest and handle different crystals and objects,
but again I have no idea what most of them do, and the
ones I do know how to use can’t exactly get me through a
mountain of aliens. Looking around the room, I’m losing
hope. But it’s after studying the giant’s melting skin and
disintegrating bones that I get an idea.
With my dagger back in my jeans pocket, I slowly
approach the moat of bubbling green liquid. I take a deep
breath and carefully dip a finger in it. Just as I’d hoped, it’s
scalding hot but merely tickles my skin like fire. It’s like
green lava.
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“When I say open the door, I want you to open it and get
out of the way immediately.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
Visions of Henri running the Loric crystal over me as I lie
on the coffee table, my hands in open flames, run through
my mind, and I dunk my hand into the moat and pick up a
dripping scoop of the green lava. I close my eyes and
concentrate, and when I open them the liquid is hovering
over my hand in a perfect flaming ball.
“This, I guess,” I say.
“Wicked.”
Sam runs over to the wooden door, and I nod to show
him I’m ready.
He rips the door open and dives to his right. A cluster of
heavily armed Mogs are running our way; but when they
catch sight of the fiery green ball coming their way, they try
to turn around. As the ball is about to splash on the chest of
the first Mog, I use my mind to spread it out like a fiery
blanket. Several Mogs are hit, and after a moment of
burning torture, they turn to ash.
I wing ball after ball of green lava at more Mogs,
knocking them down. Sam collects a pile of their guns, and
once there’s a lull in the advancement, I grab two more balls
of green liquid and run out the door. Sam follows me with a
long black gun under each arm.
The number of Mogs running down the dark tunnel is
staggering; and with the flashing lights and piercing sirens,
it’s a sensory overload. Sam pulls both triggers and mows
down row after row of Mogs, but they keep coming. When
he’s out of bullets, Sam grabs two more guns.
“I could use some help here!” Sam yells, mowing down
another line of Mogs.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” The mucus-covered walls of
the tunnel don’t appear to lend themselves to spreading a
decent fire, and I don’t have enough of the green lava in my
hands to do enough damage. To my left are the silver gas
tanks and silos with their heavy pipes, spouts and
aluminum ducts. Next to the tallest of the silos I eye the
control panel with electrical wires pouring out. I can hear the
screams and roars of the beasts in the barred chambers
farther down the hall, and wonder how hungry they are.
I toss a flaming ball at the control panel and it
disintegrates in a storm of sparks. The bars of the
chambers lining the walls begin to rise, and that’s when I
toss the other green ball at the base of the gas tanks and
silos.
I grab hold of Sam and sprint with him back into the
giant’s chamber. As the explosion erupts, I whip Sam
against the stone section between the wooden door and
the rising steel gate, and allow the advancing wave of
flames to sweep over me. My ears are flooded with the
crackle and hum of fire.
Dozens of krauls burst from their open chamber and
attack a series of unsuspecting Mogs from behind; several
pikens stomp into the tunnel with roars and swinging arms;
the reptilian mutant with horns charges towards the back of
the tunnel, plowing over Mogs and krauls under the legs of
the pikens; the gargoylelike winged creatures buzz at the
ceiling, swooping down to take a bite out of anything they
can; and the monster with transparent skin sinks its rows of
teeth into the calf of a piken. That all happens in a matter of
seconds, then they’re overtaken by a sea of fire.
After a few minutes, once the fire escapes up the spiral
cavern at the end of the tunnel to continue to wreak havoc
throughout the mountain, the long corridor in front of me is
littered with ash piles and black monster bones. I extinguish
the fire surrounding me and brush my hands off onto my
thighs.
Sam is singed, but otherwise okay.
“Brilliant, dude,” he says.
“Let’s just try to get the hell out of here, and then we can
celebrate.”
I stick my Chest under my arm and Sam picks up the
other. We race through the fire’s destruction; the stench of
death is choking. The charred ladder at the end of the
tunnel appears stable, and with only one free hand apiece,
we climb with difficulty. Our feet hit the burned and
blackened spiral ledge, and we sprint around and around
until we reach the cave’s center.
The inferno I unleashed did much more damage than I
thought it would, and we see piles upon piles of ash; but we
also see hundreds of Mogs crawling out of different
corridors and tunnels on their hands and knees, burned or
still on fire, barking in pain, unable to pick up their guns,
unable to do anything as we jump over them. There are
other soldiers racing above us on ledges, some with
weapons in their arms, others with the wounded.
I’m confused which way the exit is; and as I lead us
through a series of tunnels with my pendant swinging
around my neck, Sam and I each pick up a discarded gun.
We run with them chest high, firing at anything that gets in
our way. Even though we don’t know where we’re going, we
don’t stop moving until we come to the cells with human
prisoners. That’s when I know for certain we’ve gone the
wrong way. I pull Sam in the other direction, but he plants
his feet and stops me. I can see the concern and hope on
his face. The cells have their steel doors stuck a foot above
the floor and the bubbling blue force fields have
disappeared.
“They’re open, John!” he yells, tossing his Chest at my
feet. I drop my gun and pick up the other Chest, and Sam
finally says what I knew he was thinking: “What if my dad’s
here?”
I look into Sam’s eyes, and I know we have to check. He
runs along the left side of the corridor, yelling into each cell
for his dad. I’m investigating the cells on the right when a
boy my age with long black hair sticks his head under a
door. When he sees me, he puts a hand cautiously into the
corridor.
“The force field is really gone?” he shouts.
“I think so!” I yell.
Sam hoists his gun over his shoulder and ducks his head
under the boy’s cell door. “Do you know a man named
Malcolm Goode? Forty years old, brown hair? Is he here?
Have you seen him?”
“Shut up and stand back, kid,” I hear the boy say. There’s
a grittiness to his voice, something that makes me uneasy,
and I immediately pull Sam to the side. The boy grips the
bottom of the door and rips it from the wall, tossing it into
the corridor like a Frisbee. The ceiling cracks and boulders
fall, and I use telekinesis to shield Sam and me from being
crushed. Before I can say a word, the boy emerges
clapping the dust off his hands. He’s taller than I am,
shirtless and muscular.
Sam steps forward, and to my surprise he aims his gun
at the boy’s head. “Just tell me! Do you know my dad?
Malcolm Goode? Please!”
The boy looks past Sam and his weapon, focusing on the
Chests under my arms. That’s when I notice the three scars
on his leg. They’re just like mine. He’s one of us.
I drop the other Chest to the ground in shock. “What
number are you? I’m Four.”
He squints at me and then offers his hand. “I’m Nine.
Good job staying alive, Number Four.”
He reaches for the Chest I’ve dropped. Sam lowers his
gun, retreating down the corridor, stopping every few
seconds to look inside a cell. Nine places his hand on the
Chest’s lock and it instantly shakes and snaps open. A
yellow glow lights up his face when he opens the lid.
“Hell, yeah.” He laughs, placing a hand inside. Nine pulls
out a tiny red rock and shows it to me. “You have one of
these?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I’m embarrassed by how little I
understand the items in my own Chest.
Nine places the rock between his knuckles and aims his
fist at the nearest wall. A white cone of light appears, and
instantly we can see through the wall and into an empty jail
cell.
Sam runs in our direction. “Wait! You have X-ray vision?”
“What number is the nerd?” Nine asks me, digging
around in his Chest again.
“That’s Sam. He’s not Loric, but he’s our ally. He’s
looking for his dad.”
He tosses Sam the red rock. “This will make shit go
faster, Sammy. Just aim and squeeze.”
“He’s human, dude,” I say. “He can’t use this stuff.”
Nine places his thumb on Sam’s forehead. Sam’s hair
blows upward and I can smell electricity in the air.
Sam stumbles backwards. “Whoa.”
Nine ducks his hands back into his Chest. “You’ve got
about ten minutes. Get to it.”
I’m amazed that Nine has the ability to transfer powers to
humans. Sam runs down the corridor, inspecting cells with
a flick of the wrist. When he gets to the large metal door at
the end, he aims the rock at it, exposing more than a dozen
armed Mogs on the other side, and one is twisting together
exposed wires in an open keypad.
“Sam!” I yell picking up my gun. “Get back!”
Whoosh. The door rises and the Mogs rush forward.
Sam sprints away, firing over his shoulder.
“You have any other Legacies yet?” I ask Nine over the
sound of my gun.
He winks, and then he’s gone, running along the cracked
ceiling at super speed. The Mogs don’t notice Nine until
he’s dropped behind them, and by then it’s too late. He’s a
tornado, ripping through them with a ferocity I didn’t know
Loric possessed; even Six would be impressed. Sam and I
stop firing, letting Nine dismember each Mog with his bare
hands.
When he’s finished, Nine runs back along the left wall of
the corridor before circling to the ceiling and then to the
right wall, a cloud of ash trailing him.
“Antigravity,” Sam says. “Now that’s a cool Legacy.”
Nine skids to a stop in front of his Chest and kicks it shut.
“I can also hear pretty well. For miles.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, scooping up my Chest. Nine easily
places his on his huge shoulder and grabs a gun from the
floor.
“What about those other cells?” he asks Sam, pointing
down the corridor. A hundred or more cell doors line the
walls past where the Mogs had entered.
“We have to go,” I say, knowing we’re already pushing
our luck. It’s only a matter of seconds before we’ll be
surrounded. But there’s no persuading Sam.
He runs under the large door, still holding the red rock.
Another dozen Mogs suddenly emerge from a hidden
tunnel entrance between us. Sam braces himself against
the wall and fires. I see a few of the Mogs burst into ash, but
then my view is blocked by a swarm of drooling krauls.
Focusing my thoughts on a boulder, I whip it at the krauls,
smashing all but a few. Nine catches a kraul by its back
legs, and slams the beast against the wall. He crushes
another two, and when he’s done he turns to me, laughing.
I’m about to ask him what’s so funny when he launches a
boulder right at me. I barely jump out of the way, and a
moment later my back is covered with black ash.
“They’re everywhere!” He laughs.
“We have to get to Sam!” I try to run past Nine when an
enormous piken hand snatches us both.
“Sam!” I yell. “Sam!”
Sam doesn’t hear us over the sound of his gun. The
piken pulls us in the other direction, and, in what feels like
slow motion, I lose sight of my best friend. Before I can yell
again, the piken throws us down the opposite tunnel. I hit
the wall and land on one Chest and the other lands on top
of me. The wind is knocked out of me; and when I look up, I
see Nine spitting blood out. He’s grinning.
“Are you crazy?” I ask. “You’re enjoying this?”
“I’ve been locked up for over a year. This is the best day
of my life!”
Two pikens duck into the tunnel, blocking our direct path
back to Sam. Nine wipes the blood from his chin and
opens his Chest. He pulls out a short silver pipe, and it
expands violently at both ends until it’s over six feet long
and glowing red. He runs toward the pikens with the pipe
over his head. I stand to join him but feel a jolt of pain in my
ribs. I dig inside my Chest for my healing stone, but by the
time I find it Nine has killed both pikens. Running back
along the ceiling, he twirls the pipe at his side, and when
he’s twenty feet away he yells for me to move. The glowing
red pipe sails over my head like a javelin, impaling a piken
in the stomach.
“Don’t mention it,” Nine says before I can utter a word.
More pikens squeeze into the far end of the tunnel, and
when I turn around to run, a flock of transparent birds with
razor-sharp teeth is flying towards us. Nine grabs a strand
of green stones from his Chest and flings it towards the
flock. It hovers in the air and, like a black hole, sucks the
birds into it.
He closes his eyes and the stones zip towards the
pikens, spinning and unleashing the flock of birds into their
faces. Nine points at me and yells, “Boulder them!”
I follow his lead, rocketing boulder after boulder at the
mayhem. The pikens and the birds collapse under our
barrage.
Several more pikens push their way into the tunnel,
roaring. I grab Nine’s arm to keep him from charging.
“They’re just going to keep coming,” I say. “We have to
find Sam and get out of here. Number Six is meeting us.”
He nods and we run. At the next opening we veer left,
unsure if we’re making progress or getting even more lost.
More and more enemies appear behind us with every new
turn. Nine trashes every tunnel we pass through, bringing
down ceilings and collapsing walls with telekinesis and
perfectly thrown boulders.
We come to a long, low-arching bridge of solid rock,
similar to the one Sam and I shuffled along earlier, and
below is a steaming pool of green lava. Charging across
the other side of the narrow bridge is a thick line of Mogs,
and behind us several pikens are racing down the tunnel,
straight towards us.
“Where do we go?” I shout as we step onto the bridge.
Nine says, “We go under.”
Nine grabs my hand as we reach the peak of the bridge,
and my world literally flips upside down until we’re running
along the underside of the arch. Without warning Nine lets
go of me, but my shoes still firmly grip the belly of the bridge
somehow. I reach over my head and scoop up a pile of the
green lava, and by the time we’re standing on the other
side of the room, I have a perfect green ball of fire in my
hand. I wing it at the Mogs on the bridge and visualize it
spreading over them. I can hear the sizzling of their flesh
when we duck into another cave.
I’m out of breath when we reach a steep decline. I’m
judging the grade of the drop when I’m hit with a blast from
behind. I topple forward and fall at an amazing speed, and
when the ground finally levels out, my recently dislocated
shoulder hits it first.
I roll onto my stomach in unimaginable pain. The blast hit
me square in the back, and my muscles are stuck in an
uncontrollable spasm. I can hardly breathe, let alone search
my Chest for my healing stone. The only thing I can do is
stare at the slivers of moonlight that appear and disappear
at the end of the tunnel. The tarp. It’s flapping in the forest
wind. I’m back to where I started.
I hear the sound of rocks crumbling behind me. I’m in
more pain than I thought imaginable, and all I can think
about is leaving the mountain. “Straight ahead. It’s the exit.
We can regroup out there,” I manage.
If we can make it outside, then I can heal myself, hide our
Chests in the forest. And maybe BK can come back in with
us now that we’ve destroyed the gas tanks. The four Mogs
who guarded the entrance are gone, and Nine jumps out
through the tarp and into the forest. I follow. The stench from
the dead animal carcasses hits us fast, and we both gag as
Nine jogs into a line of trees. I collapse against a trunk. I
need five minutes, I think. Then we’re going back in for
Sam. Guns and hands blazing.
Nine digs around his Chest and I close my eyes. Tears
roll down my face. I’m startled by something rough touching
my left hand. I open my eyes to see it’s Bernie Kosar in his
beagle form, licking my fingers.
“I don’t deserve that,” I tell him. “I’m a coward. I’m cursed.”
He notices my injuries and tears, and then sniffs Nine’s
face before expanding into a horse.
“Whoa!” Nine jumps back. “What the hell are you?”
“Chimaera,” I whisper. “He’s a good guy. He’s Loric.”
Nine quickly pets BK’s muzzle and then presses a
healing stone to my back. As it works through my system, I
notice a menacing storm brewing over the mountain.
The sky suddenly rages with lightning and booming
thunder, and I’m so grateful Six has returned that I stand,
ignoring the remaining pain in my back. The clouds shift
and stretch in a way I’ve never seen before, though, and the
sky feels suddenly evil. This isn’t Six. She’s not back to
help.
I watch the funnel cloud that I’ve only seen in my worst
visions form.
Bernie Kosar rears backward as a perfectly spherical
spaceship, milky white like a pearl, sweeps down through
the tornado’s eye. The ship lands right in front of the
mountain’s entrance, sending tremors through the ground.
In the same way as I had seen in my visions, a door
appears from out of nowhere on the ship’s side, simply
melting away. The Mogadorian leader from my visions, he’s
here.
Nine gasps. “Setrakus Ra. He’s here. This is it.”
I’m silent, frozen in fear. “So that’s his name,” I finally
whisper.
“That was his name. For every day they tried to torture me
and my Cepan, I’m going to stab him with this.” The red
pipe glows in Nine’s hand. Its ends expand with rotating
blades. “I’m going to kill him. And you’re going to help me.”
Setrakus Ra walks towards the cave’s entrance but
stops before going in, one massive silhouette, stark and
spectral. Through the raging wind and torrential rain, he
turns, lifting his gaze in our general direction. Even from as
far away as I am, the faint glow of the three pendants is
unmistakable around his thick neck.
Nine and I charge out of the trees with Bernie Kosar
galloping behind, but it’s too late. Setrakus Ra has
disappeared into the cave and the same bubbling blue
force field that covered the prison cell doors appears over
the entrance.
“No!” Nine yells. He slides to a stop and stabs the ground
with his pipe.
With my dagger in my hand, I keep going. I hear Nine
scream for me to stop, but all I can think about is killing
Setrakus Ra, saving Sam and his dad and ending this war,
right here, right now. When I hit the blue force field,
everything goes black.

The Power of Six - Chapter 32


Chapter 32


THUNDER ROLLS, FOLLOWED BY BRILLIANT STREAKS of lightning,
and in their glare I see the clouds expand and drop. Rain
falls in heavy sheets, and the armored Mogadorian looks
down at me. He presses the cannon against my blue
pendant and says something I can’t understand. My wound
in my stomach has almost healed, and I hear Ella yell my
name over the thunder.
If I’m going to die, then I need to release Ella first. One of
us needs to live to tell the others. I cautiously lift my hands
and envision the trunk separating, when a bolt of lightning
cracks in the distance. Less than a second later, the bolt
strikes the Mogadorian standing over me, and he turns to
ash and is swept away in the wind.
I climb to my feet and see that I’ve opened the beech
tree’s trunk halfway. I continue to separate the tree as I run
towards it. “Ella? Are you okay?”
She spills out of the trunk and falls into my arms. “I
couldn’t see you,” she says, squeezing me. “I thought I lost
you.”
“Not yet,” I say, grabbing my Chest. “Come on.”
We turn to run, and see Crayton and Hector coming
towards us. Hector’s been hurt, and his arm is over
Crayton’s shoulders for support. The wind and rain are
raging. Behind them, the first wave of Mogadorians and
krauls are charging up the shore after them. When I see
this, I break away a large limb from a dead tree and hurl it
hard at the closest pack of krauls. It knocks down several,
but they’re back up again in no time. A Mogadorian soldier
throws a grenade that I intercept midair with my mind and
send right back into his stomach. It explodes, throwing
several Mogadorians and krauls to the ground in soggy bits
of ash. I send tree after tree, rock after rock, knocking many
to the ground, killing more.
“Help me!” Crayton yells.
I rush to take Hector from him. He has a bite wound in his
stomach and a bullet hole in his arm, and both are bleeding
badly.
“Come on, everyone!” Crayton yells, pulling bullets from
his coat pocket and quickly sliding them into his gun’s
empty clip. “We have to get to the dam!”
I open my mouth to respond, but an enormous lightning
bolt snaps over us. It spreads across the sky like the veins
of the gods, leaving the distinct taste of metal in the air. A
deafening clap of thunder reverberates off the mountains.
The wind and rain cease, and the clouds rotate around and
around in a massive maelstrom, until a dark, glowing eye
forms, staring at us from high over the mountaintops. The
Mogadorians are just as mesmerized as we are. The wind
kicks up again, and the dark clouds and the thunder and
lightning come with it, slow at first, but quickly gaining
speed, heading our way. A perfect storm, beautiful at its
cataclysmic heart, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. All
any of us can do is watch the thick clouds rolling towards us
with a deep growl.
“What’s happening?” I scream over the gale force winds.
“I don’t know!” Crayton replies. “We’re going to need to
find some cover!”
But he doesn’t move, and neither does anyone else.
Hector seems to have forgotten all about the pain of his
wounds as he watches, too.
“Go!” Crayton finally yells, and then he spins around and
fires on the Mogadorians to cover us as we run over a slight
hill and then down into a valley. I see the dam on my right,
which connects two lower mountains. It’s too far away to
realistically believe we’ll reach it. Hector’s face has turned
white and he’s fading fast, and I start looking for a place to
rest so I can heal him. Crayton’s gun falls silent. I look
behind me fearing the worst, but he’s merely out of ammo.
He chucks the gun over his shoulder and catches up to us.
“We’re not going to make it to the dam!” He yells. “Run to
the lake!”
The rain starts up again as the four of us change
direction. Bullets zip into our grassy footprints and ricochet
off boulders. The clouds shift over us with a roar. A second
later it’s as if we’ve gone under a bridge: the rain just stops.
I look over my shoulder and see that just a few paces back,
the rain still falls heavy and hard. The wind picks up
significantly, and suddenly the Mogadorians behind us are
stuck in the worst rainstorm I’ve ever seen. They completely
disappear in a blur.
Our shoes slip over the sand on the shore, and Ella and
Crayton dive into the water headfirst.
“I can’t do it, Marina,” Hector says, stopping before his
feet reach the water.
I drop my Chest and grab his arm and say, “I can fix you,
Hector. You can make it.”
“It wouldn’t make any difference. I don’t know how to
swim.”
“I’m Marina of the sea, Hector. Remember?” I allow the
iciness to spread from my fingertips to the bullet hole in his
arm. I watch it turn from black and gray and red to a tan
patch of wrinkled skin. I quickly concentrate on the bite
wound on his stomach beneath his shirt, and Hector
suddenly stands up straight with energy. I look into his eyes.
“As the Queen of the sea, I will swim with you.”
“But you have that,” Hector says, pointing at the Chest.
“You’ll have to hold it then,” I say, dropping it into his
arms.
We jog into the water until our feet no longer touch the
lake floor, and then I wrap my right arm around Hector’s
chest and paddle with my left. Hector hugs the Chest to his
stomach, and he floats on his back, his head just above
water. Ella and Crayton tread water in the middle of the
lake, and I pull Hector towards them.
The clouds overhead dissipate, shrinking into a hundred
wispy lines of gray in the sky. The advancing Mogadorians
are no longer a blur in a rainstorm, and the moment they
can see they charge at the lake with dozens of krauls
yipping in front of them.
A tiny black speck falls from above as the last cloud
disappears, and the closer the speck gets, the more it
appears to be a human.
Wearing a large blue pendant around her neck, she
lands on the shore, rippling the sand. It’s a strikingly
beautiful girl with raven-colored hair; and the second I see
her I know she’s the one I’ve been dreaming of, the one I
painted on the cave’s wall.
“She’s one of us!” I shout.
The girl looks around, we make eye contact, and then
she vanishes a moment later. I’m shocked, crushed,
believing I must have imagined her.
“Where’d she go?” Ella asks.
The moment I realize Ella saw her, too, that I hadn’t
imagined her, I watch as the two nearest krauls are
somehow yanked backwards in the air. They’re hovering,
yipping and snarling at something behind them, and then
they slam into each other until they fall limp. One kraul goes
sailing into the legs of two soldiers, and the other is swung
in the air, connecting with other krauls and soldiers.
“Invisibility. She has the Legacy of invisibility.” Crayton
breathes.
She’s invisible? I’m amazed and jealous at the same
time, but most of all I’m grateful. Every kraul that touches the
water is yanked backwards by an unseen hand and
slammed into the hard sand or a Mogadorian soldier. A
dropped cannon rises from the grass and starts firing in all
directions. Kraul after kraul is destroyed. Dozens of
Mogadorians burst into clouds of ash.
Cannon blasts come from the other side of the lake, and I
spin to see twenty or more Mogadorians wading in up to
their waists. Rays of light hit the water all around us,
creating enough steam that I can barely see Hector in front
of me.
“Ella?” I shout.
“Over here!” she yells from my left.
“Take Hector.”
She wraps her arm around Hector’s chest. “Why?”
“Because I’m not going to stay out here while that girl
fights all by herself. This is my war, too.”
Before anyone can stop me, I sink below the surface and
the water instantly tickles my lungs. I swim deeper until the
green-blue color of the lake becomes gray. I see the hulking
body of Olivia below me; she’s lying lifeless on the lake
floor, clouds of blood billowing from the hundreds of bite
wounds on her back.
I head towards the opposite shore and after a minute I
can see the legs of the Mogadorians. I swim next to the one
farthest on the left. I plant my feet in the muddy bottom and
launch myself out of the water. The Mogadorian doesn’t
have enough time to react as I toss him towards the middle
of the lake with my mind. I float his cannon into my hands,
shoot him, and never let go of the trigger. The Mogadorians
along the lake burst into ash, and when I’ve killed them all, I
aim towards the hundreds near the vehicles.
There’s movement in the water behind me and I’m too
slow; a kraul jumps and sinks its teeth into my side. The
pain is immediate and horrible, as if someone was holding
a hot branding iron to my ribs. The beast whips me
headfirst into the water and then against the sand of the
shore. I catch my breath and scream as it arcs me back
over and into the water again. I’m sure this is how I will die,
but suddenly the kraul’s mouth widens and releases me. I
fall onto my stomach on the shore and watch as the kraul’s
mouth continues to widen until I hear bones snapping. The
raven-haired girl materializes before my eyes, her hands on
the beast’s quivering lips. She looks back at me before
yanking the jaws completely vertical, killing the kraul.
“Are you okay?” the girl asks me.
I lift up my shirt and place a hand on my wound. “I will be
in a second.”
She ducks a blast from a cannon. “Good. What number
are you?”
“Seven.”
“I’m Six,” she says before vanishing.
The iciness spreads from my fingers over my body, but I
know I won’t be able to heal myself completely before the
oncoming wave of Mogadorian soldiers reaches me. I roll
into the lake and stay underwater. My wound is almost
healed when I rise above the surface.
Number Six is on top of one of the armored Humvees
with a glowing sword. She’s fighting several soldiers at
once: hacking off body parts, blocking cannon fire with her
blade, using telekinesis to aim a floating cannon high
above her so it blasts through dozens of Mogadorians on
the formation’s edge. She then hurls her sword into a
crowd, impaling three soldiers at once. Number Six grabs
the large gun mounted on top of the vehicle and mows
down dozens of Mogadorians in seconds.
There are only twenty or thirty soldiers left. Maybe four
krauls. Number Six holds one hand over her head while the
gun in the other shoots and destroys the Humvees along
the shore. Dark clouds form over the mountains and bolts of
lightning crack and split the ground near her. The
Mogadorians show fear for the first time, and I watch a few
drop their weapons and run towards the woods.
“Out of the water!” I yell, fearful of the lightning. Ella drags
Hector to the edge of the lake and Crayton follows.
I reach the shore near Number Six and pick up two
cannons. I struggle to keep my footing as I press both
triggers, turning more soldiers to ash, destroying two of the
krauls. An injured soldier hiding behind a wrecked Humvee
tosses a grenade at Number Six’s back, but I’m able to
shoot it in the air. The explosion rotates Number Six and
the mounted gun, and a moment later the injured soldier is
nothing but ash.
I can’t keep my eyes off of Number Six. Her strength is
mesmerizing. The blue pendant bounces around as the gun
in her one hand cuts down more and more soldiers. She
rotates to her left and blows a kraul into bits, and then she
rotates to her right and takes out several more
Mogadorians with a bolt of lightning.
The valley is bright and smoky. It’s damp and charred. I
look around me and can’t believe that victory will be ours in
just a matter of seconds. Crayton races over and I toss him
one of my guns, and instantly he’s killing soldiers retreating
into the woods. Hector runs with my Chest, and soon he
and Ella stand behind me. I nod towards Number Six and
smile at my friends, thinking that the worst is over; but that’s
when Ella raises her eyes over my head and her face turns
white.
“Pikens!” Ella yells.
Four of the horned monsters run down the mountainside
at full speed. Directly below them, Number Six is
preoccupied with the few remaining soldiers and the kraul. I
uproot as many silver firs as I can and send them like
rockets. Four hit the lead one and it falls backwards into the
path of the other three, and it’s crushed and killed in the
stampede.
“Number Six!” I shout. She hears me, and I point to the
pikens rumbling down into the valley. She spins with the gun
and blows the knees off the monster on the left. It tumbles
down faster than the other two can run, and Number Six
jumps from the Humvee a moment before the dead piken
flattens it with an echoing crunch.
Crayton and I shoot our cannons at the other two, but
they’re too fast, splitting up when they reach the valley floor.
The clouds roar when Number Six stands, and an
enormous bolt of lightning crashes into one of the pikens,
cutting off its arm. It bellows and falls to its knees, but
quickly regains its balance and charges ahead with blood
spurting from its side. The other piken dodges Crayton’s
fire and rushes in from the other direction. We all run
towards Number Six, but Hector is too slow with my Chest
in his arms. The piken closes in, and before I can help, the
one-armed monster reaches down and snatches Hector
and my Chest in its fist.
“No!” I scream. “Hector!”
I’m in such shock that when the piken throws a lifeless
Hector and my Chest into the lake, I don’t use my
telekinesis to stop either from sinking.
Number Six has killed the other piken. She turns towards
us now and holds both hands up to the sky. A lightning bolt
severs the monster’s head from its body.
For the first time all day, there is silence. I lean into
Number Six, look at Ella and Crayton and the fire and
destruction behind them, and I know that these quiet
moments are about to become rare in my life.
“Your Chest, Marina,” Crayton says. “You have to go get
it.”
I turn to Number Six and hug her. “Thank you. Thank you,
Number Six.”
“I’m sure we’ll get a chance to do it again sometime.”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders. “And just call me
Six.”
“I’m Marina. This is Crayton and Ella. She’s Number
Ten.”
Ella steps forward and shrinks to her seven-year-old
body. She extends her small hand towards Six, who has her
mouth open, speechless.
Crayton starts to explain Ella and the second ship to Six
as I walk into the lake. I feel its coolness for the first time. I
swim to the middle and dive, descending until the water is
devoid of any light and my feet touch the muddy floor. I
circle the bottom until I see my Chest. I rock it back and
forth to dislodge it from the mud’s suction. Swimming with
one arm, I start to ascend. When the water turns blue, I see
Hector’s body and wrap my other arm around his waist.
Ella and Crayton stand with Six on the shore. I drop the
Chest and slap my wet hands on Hector’s shin, arm, neck,
all around his crushed back, hoping and praying the icy
feeling will arrive in my fingers.
“He’s dead,” Crayton says, pulling on my shoulders.
I don’t give up. Hating myself for not trying the same thing
on Adelina, I touch Hector’s face. I run my hand through his
gray hair. I even levitate him a few centimeters off the sand
and try it all over again, but it’s true. He’s gone.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Power of Six - Chapter 30


Chapter 30


THE GUNFIRE MAKES MY EARS RING LONG AFTER it’s stopped.
Smoke rises from the end of the barrel, but Crayton wastes
no time and drops the gun’s clip and snaps another in
place. Heaping mounds of ash have given the air a thick
haze. We stand waiting, Ella and I behind Crayton. He
keeps the gun raised, his finger hovering on the trigger. A
Mogadorian climbs into the entryway with a cannon of his
own, but Crayton fires first, cutting him in half and hurling
him backwards. The Mogadorian explodes before he hits
the wall. A second jumps into view, wielding the same
flashing weapon that tore my shoulder downstairs, but
Crayton disposes of it before any light comes forth.
“Well, they know where we are now. Come on,” he yells,
rushing forward and down the stairs before I can offer to
float us out the window. Ella and I follow, still holding hands.
Crayton stops after the second curve of the stairwell,
pressing his fingers to his eyes. “There’s too much ash in
my eyes. I can’t see anything,” he says. “Marina, take the
lead. If there’s anything up ahead, yell and get the hell out of
the way.”
I keep the Chest tucked beneath my left arm and Ella
stays in the middle, holding my hand and Crayton’s. I lead
them down and out the broken oak door just as the tower
above us explodes.
I scream, ducking down and pulling Ella with me. Crayton
instinctively begins firing. The gun unloads a rapid stream
of ammunition—eight to ten bullets per second—and I can
see an entire group of Mogadorians drop. Crayton stops
firing.
“Marina?” he asks, nodding his head forward without
seeing me.
I turn and study the hallway, thick with ash. “I think it’s
clear,” I say; and the second the words leave my mouth, a
Mogadorian leaps out of an open doorway and fires,
sending a flashing white meteor raging towards us too
bright to look at. We drop just in time, and the white death
misses us by a hair. Crayton quickly lifts the gun and returns
a barrage of bullets, killing the Mogadorian instantly.
I lead us forward. I have no idea how many of them
Crayton just killed, but the ash stands thick on the floor,
covering our feet and ankles. We pause at the top of the
steps. Light from the windows comes through the fading
ash, and Crayton has cleared his eyes. He takes the lead
position, clutching the gun tightly to his chest while staying
hidden behind the corner. Once we turn, all that separates
us from the door leading outside are these steps, a short
hallway, the back of the nave, and the main vestibule.
Crayton takes a deep breath, nods his head, and then
turns, dropping the barrel of the gun, ready to fire. But
there’s nothing to fire at.
“Come on,” he grunts.
We follow him and he escorts us across the nave’s rear,
which is black with fire damage. For a brief moment I
glimpse Adelina’s body, looking small from as far away as
we are. My heart aches seeing her. Be brave, Marina, her
words echo.
An explosion erupts against the outside wall on our right
side. The stones blow inward, and I instinctively lift my hand
and prevent any of them from hitting Ella and me. But
Crayton gets hit hard, and he smashes against the wall to
our left, landing with a grunt. The gun rattles away from him,
and a Mogadorian enters the cathedral through the newly
created hole. He’s holding a cannon; and in one fluid
motion, I heave the Mogadorian backwards with my mind,
bring Crayton’s gun into my hand, and pull the trigger. The
gun’s kick is a lot harder than I expected, and I almost drop
it; but I recover quickly and keep firing until the Mogadorian
is reduced to ash.
“Here,” I say, pushing the gun into Ella’s hands; and in the
comfortable way she takes it, I can tell she’s no stranger to
firearms.
I rush to Crayton. His arm is broken, and blood seeps
from gashes on his head and face. But his eyes are open
and he seems alert. I slap my hands on his wrist and close
my eyes, the iciness crawling over my body and extending
to Crayton. I watch the bones in his arm move under the
skin, and the gashes on his face seal and disappear. His
chest expands and contracts so fast I think his lungs are
going to explode, but then he’s calm again. He sits up and
moves his arm fluidly.
“Nice job,” he says.
He takes the gun from Ella, and we climb through the
hole in the wall and out into Santa Teresa’s front grounds. I
don’t see a single person as Ella and I run ahead and pass
through the iron gates while Crayton sweeps his gun back
and forth, looking for any reason to fire it. My eyes are
drawn over Crayton’s left shoulder to a quick burst of red
from the cathedral’s roof. With a loud blast, the discharged
rocket surges towards Crayton. I stare at the rocket’s tip
and raise my hands, concentrating harder than I ever have,
and at the very last instant I’m able to slightly alter the
rocket’s path. It misses him and angles off towards a
mountain, where it hits it with a plume of fire. Crayton
rushes us through the gates with eyes alert and the gun
aimed. He pulls up and spins around.
He shakes his head, and from behind us we hear the
church doors thrust open.
“He isn’t here,” Crayton says, and just before he turns
around to begin firing, the sound of squealing tires pierces
the air. The plastic covering that had kept the truck
concealed falls off and its back side fishtails as Hector,
wide-eyed behind the wheel, floors it. He comes racing our
way and slams on the brakes when he reaches us. The
truck screeches to a halt, and Hector reaches across the
seat and throws open the passenger-side door. I toss my
Chest beside Hector, and Ella and I jump in. Crayton stays
out just long enough to empty his gun at the Mogadorians
emerging from the church door. Several drop, but there are
far too many to get them all. Crayton jumps in and slams the
door, and the tires bite into the cobblestones in an attempt
to find traction. There’s the sound of another rocket nearing,
but the tires catch and we go racing down Calle Principal.
“I love you, Hector,” I say. I can’t help it; the sight of him
behind the wheel fills me with such warmth that it brims over
the edge.
“I love you, too, Marina. I always told you, stick with
Hector Ricardo; he’ll take care of you.”
“I never doubted it once,” I say, which is a lie; I had
doubted it this morning.
We reach the bottom of the hill and fly past the signs
announcing the town limits.
I twist around to peer out the back window as Santa
Teresa quickly fades behind us. I know it’s the last time I’ll
ever see it and though I’ve waited years to leave, it now
holds the sacredness of being Adelina’s last resting place.
Soon the town is gone, left behind.
“Thank you, Senorita Marina,” Hector says.
“For what?”
“I know it was you who cured my dear mother. She told
me it was you, that you were her angel; and I’ll never be
able to repay you for it.”
“You already have, Hector. I was very happy to help.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t yet, but I’m sure going to
try.” While Crayton refills both clips and takes inventory of his
ammo, Hector navigates the windy and unpredictable road.
We bounce and skid along the sharp turns and sudden hills.
But despite the speed, it doesn’t take long for a convoy of
vehicles to be seen in the distance behind us.
“Don’t worry about them,” Crayton says. “Just get us to
the lake.”
Even though the truck is barreling down the road, the
convoy closes the gap. After ten minutes, a flash of light
sails just over the truck and explodes into the countryside
ahead of us. Hector instinctively jerks his head down.
“My God!” he says.
Crayton turns around and breaks the back window with
the butt of his gun, then fires. The lead vehicle is upended,
which makes us all cheer in celebration.
“That should keep them far enough back,” Crayton says,
quickly reloading the gun’s clip.
And it does for a few minutes, but as the road grows
more precarious and twists down the mountain at sharp
declines, the vehicles catch right back up to us. Hector
mutters under his breath as he whips around each bend,
the gas pedal buried, the truck’s back tires swinging
frighteningly over the edge of the towering cliff.
“Careful, Hector,” Crayton says. “Don’t kill us before we
get there. At least give us a chance.”
“Hector is in control,” Hector replies, bringing no comfort
whatsoever to Crayton, who keeps a white-knuckled grip on
the headrest in front of him.
The only refuge is the road’s perpetual turns, which keep
the Mogadorians from getting a straight shot, though they
try anyway.
As we race around a particularly sharp bend, Hector
can’t turn us quickly enough and we go off the edge of the
road. At a seventy-five-degree angle, the truck races down
the dense mountainside, smashing through saplings,
bouncing off boulders, barely avoiding thick trees. Ella and I
scream. Crayton yells as he flies forward and slams into the
windshield. Hector doesn’t say a word; he clenches his
teeth and maneuvers us around and over obstacles until we
miraculously land on another road. The truck’s hood is
severely dented and smoking, but the engine is still running.
“This is a, uh, shortcut,” Hector says. He tries the gas
pedal, and we quickly rumble down the new road.
“I think we lost them,” says Crayton, looking up the cliff.
I pat Hector’s shoulder and laugh. Crayton sticks the
barrel of his gun out the back window and waits.
Eventually the lake comes into view. I wonder why
Crayton believes the lake will save us.
“What’s the big deal about the lake?” I ask.
“You didn’t think I’d come to find you with just Ella, did
you?”
For a moment I think to tell him that up until a few hours
ago I thought he had come to kill me. But soon the
Mogadorians appear behind us again, and Crayton turns
around while Hector’s eyes dart up to the rearview mirror.
“This is going to be close,” Crayton says.
“We’ll get out of it, Papa,” Ella says, looking at Crayton;
and hearing her call him that fills my heart with affection. He
smiles warmly at her, then nods. Ella squeezes my hand.
“You’ll love Olivia,” she says to me.
“Who’s Olivia?” I ask, but she doesn’t get a chance to
answer before the road turns at a ninety-degree angle and
declines sharply towards the lake ahead. Ella tenses in my
arms as the road ends, and Hector barely lets up on the
gas as the truck rams straight through a chain-link gate that
surrounds the lake. We hit a slight bump, and the truck’s
tires leave the ground entirely before landing with a thud
and bouncing on the shore. Hector speeds straight for the
water, and just before we reach it, he slams on the brakes
and brings us skidding to a stop. Crayton shoulders open
the passenger-side door and dashes towards the lake,
rushing straight into the water until it reaches his knees.
With the gun still in his left hand, he hurls an object as far as
he can with his right and begins muttering something in a
language I don’t understand.
“Come on!” he screams, thrusting his hands up in the air
as though offering encouragement. “Come on, Olivia!”
Hector, Ella, and I rush out and run up near him. I have the
Chest under my arm and in an instant I see that the water
has begun to crest and bubble in the lake’s middle.
“Marina, do you know what a Chimaera is?”
But I don’t get to answer, because just then a lone
Mogadorian vehicle, a tanklike Humvee with a gun mounted
on top, erupts onto the scene and speeds down the hill. As
it comes right at us, in the water, Crayton unloads a
barrage of bullets into the windshield. The vehicle instantly
goes out of control, crashing straight into the back of
Hector’s truck. It creates a deafening bang, followed by the
crush of grinding metal and breaking glass. As the dozens
of other vehicles in the convoy rumble down the last hill and
begin firing, the world erupts in fire and smoke as
explosions rock the beach, causing all four of us to hit the
ground. Sand and water rain down, and we scramble back
to our feet. Crayton snags me by the collar.
“Get out of here!” he yells.
I take Ella’s hand and we run as fast as we can around
the left side of the lake. Crayton begins firing; but it’s not
one gun that I hear but two, and I can only hope it’s Hector’s
finger pulling the second trigger.
We race towards a cluster of trees sloping down from the
mountainside, jutting out all the way to the water’s bank. Our
footsteps slap on the wet stones, and Ella’s accelerated
pace matches my own. Gunfire continues to rattle through
the air; and just as it lets up, a loud animal roar booms over
our head, causing me to stop short. I turn to look at the
creature able to create such a paralyzing call, knowing it’s
not of this world. A long, muscular neck protrudes ten or
fifteen stories out of the water, the flesh a gleaming gray. At
the end of it, a giant lizard head separates its pebbled lips
to show an enormous set of teeth.
“Olivia!” Ella cheers.
Olivia rears her head and lets loose another earsplitting
roar, and in the middle of it, a series of high-pitched yipping
sounds roll down from the mountain. I look up and see a
pack of small beasts descending towards the lake.
I gasp. “What are those?” I ask Ella.
“Krauls. Lots of them.”
Olivia’s neck is fully emerged and thirty stories high now,
and as the rest of her body surfaces, her neck widens and
her torso thickens. The Mogadorians immediately fire at
her, and Olivia slams her head down on several at a time,
creating large piles of ash. I can see the dark figures of
Crayton and Hector, both with guns blazing. The
Mogadorians fall back as a hundred krauls enter the lake
and swim towards Olivia. The creatures leap out of the
water and attack. Many claw their way up Olivia’s back and
rip at the base of her neck. The lake water is soon streaked
with blood.
“No!” Ella screams.
She tries running back, but I grab hold of her arm.
“We can’t go back,” I say.
“Olivia!”
“That’s suicide, Ella. There’re too many.”
Olivia roars in pain. She whips her head at her sides and
back, trying to crush or bite the black krauls that have
blanketed her. Crayton aims his gun at the beasts, but he
lowers his weapon when he realizes he would most likely
shoot Olivia in the process. He and Hector instead fire on
the army of Mogadorians lining up and preparing for a new
attack.
Olivia wavers left and right, howls at the mountains, and
backs herself up into the middle of the lake and slowly sinks
in a wave of red. The krauls detach and swim towards the
Mogadorians.
“No!” I hear Crayton yell above the chaos. I watch him try
to enter the lake but Hector pulls him back onto the shore.
“Duck!” Ella screams, pulling me down by the arm. A
whoosh of air passes over us. A giant black hoof smashes
the ground next to me, and I look up to see a horned
monster. Its head is as large as Hector’s truck, and when
the giant roars, my hair flaps in my face.
“Come on!” I yell. We race towards the trees.
“Split up,” Ella says. I nod and dart left, towards an
ancient beech tree with gnarled limbs. I set the Chest down
and instinctively lift my hands and then pull them apart. To
my surprise the beech trunk opens, creating a hollow space
that looks just big enough for two people and a Chest to fit.
I look over my shoulder to see the creature chasing Ella
through a dense line of trees. I toss the Chest in the open
trunk, and with telekinesis I pick up two trees and send
them like missiles at the creature’s back. They splinter
against its dark skin with a loud crash, knocking it to its
knees. I run and grab Ella’s shaking hand, pulling her in the
other direction. The beech tree with my Chest comes into
view.
“The tree, Ella! Get inside!” I yell. She sits atop the Chest
and tries to make herself as compact as she can, shrinking
down to a younger age.
“That’s a piken, Marina! Get in!” she pleads; and before
she can say another word, I close the trunk up around her,
leaving just enough room so she can see.
“I’m sorry,” I say through the small crevice, hoping the
giant didn’t see where I’ve stashed the Chest and hidden
my friend.
I turn and run trying to lead the piken away, but it soon
catches up and knocks me from behind. The force of the hit
is shocking, and I fall down a steep slope until my arm finds
a boulder to hook around. I look over my shoulder to see
that I’m less than a meter from a rocky cliff.
The piken appears at the top of the slope. There it
shuffles sideways until it’s positioned directly above me. It
roars so loudly my mind blanks. I hear Ella scream my
name in the distance, but I can’t breathe, let alone yell back.
It marches down the slope. I raise one of my hands and
uproot a small spindly tree near me and launch it at the
giant’s chest. It impales its chest, and it’s enough for the
piken to lose its footing; and it falls sideways, shrieking and
barreling right at me. I close my eyes and prepare for the
impact; but instead of smashing me under its weight and
knocking me over the cliff, its body hits the boulder I’m
holding on to and then bounces over me. I whip my head
over my shoulder to see the piken fall down the rocky cliff.
I’m finally able to concentrate enough to float myself up
the slope. I hurry back towards the beech tree—to Ella and
my Chest—and I hear the cannon’s blast a split second
before I’m shot. The pain is double anything I’ve felt before,
and all I can see is red and flashes of white. I roll around
uncontrollably, writhing in agony.
“Marina!” I hear Ella scream.
I roll onto my back and stare at the sky. Blood drips out of
my mouth and nose. I can taste it. I can smell it. A few birds
circle overhead. As I wait to die, I watch as the sky is taken
over by a colossal group of dark, heavy clouds. The clouds
crash and roll on top of each other, pulsing as if they’re
breathing. I think I’m hallucinating, seeing visions before I
die, when a massive drop of water hits me on the right
cheek. I blink as another hits me above my eyes, and then a
bolt of lightning splits the sky in two.
A huge Mogadorian in gold-and-black armor stands over
me smiling. He presses a cannon against my temple and
spits on the ground; but before he pulls the trigger, he looks
up at the looming storm. I quickly place my hands on the
gaping wound in my abdomen, feeling the icy familiarity
surge under my skin. Then the oncoming rain washes over
me as the clouds become a solid wall of darkness.

The Power of Six - Chapter 29


Chapter 29


WE GET AS CLOSE TO THE CAVE AS WE CAN WITHOUT being seen, and
we duck behind a tree. I place the Xitharis stone on the sticky side of a
section of duct tape. Sam watches with his fingers pinched around his
stopwatch.
“Ready?” I ask.
He nods. I press the Xitharis and the tape to the very
bottom of my sternum. I vanish instantly and Sam hits the
watch’s button, eliciting a soft digital beep. I snatch Sam’s
hand, and together we lurch around the tree and speed to
the cave. It’s all about the task at hand now, and with that in
mind I’m no longer as nervous.
The cave is covered with a large camouflage tarp. We
navigate through the graveyard of dead animals, being
careful not to step on any, which is hard to do without the
luxury of seeing your feet. There are no Mogs outside, and I
hurry forward and flick the tarp aside a little too forcefully.
Sam and I stumble in and four guards jump up from their
seats and raise cylindrical cannons like the one that was
held to my forehead that night in Florida. We stand as still
as statues for a brief moment, and then quietly sneak past,
hoping they’ll attribute the tarp’s sudden disturbance to the
outside wind.
There’s a cool breeze coming from a ventilation system
and the air is oddly fresh, which I hadn’t expected
considering it’s laced with poisonous gas. The gray walls
are polished smooth like flint; electrical conduit connects
dim lights evenly spaced twenty feet apart.
We pass several more scouts and slither by undetected.
The anxiety of the ticking clock racks us both with stress.
We jog, we sprint, we tiptoe, we walk. And when the tunnel
narrows and declines steadily, we sidestep down it. The
cool air grows hot and stifling, and a crimson glow at the
end of the tunnel comes into view. We shuffle towards it
until finally reaching the cave’s beating heart.
The cavernous hall is far larger than I’d imagined based
on Six’s description. A long, continuous ledge runs along
the circular walls and spirals all the way, from top to bottom,
giving the overall appearance of a beehive; and the place
is every bit as busy as one, too—there are literally
hundreds of Mogs in sight, crossing the precarious stone
arched bridges, entering and exiting tunnels. The deep floor
and the vast ceiling are separated by a half mile, and Sam
and I are situated very close to the middle. Two massive
pillars sprout up from the floor and reach all the way to the
ceiling, keeping the whole thing from caving in. The number
of passageways around us is endless.
“My God,” Sam whispers in awe, taking it all in. “It’d take
months to explore this entire thing.”
My eyes are drawn to the lake of glowing green liquid
down below. Even from so far away, the heat off of it makes
it hard to breathe. But despite the near roasting
temperatures, twenty to thirty Mogs work around it,
retrieving carts full of the bubbling stuff and quickly taking it
away. Past the green lake, my eyes focus on something
else.
“I think we can pretty much guess what we’ll find down
that tunnel with the giant bars,” I whisper. It’s three times the
height and width of the passageway that carried us here,
and a checkered pattern of heavy iron bars covers it,
keeping caged whatever beasts are inside. We can hear
them howl from below, deep and almost sorrowful. One
thing is immediately clear: their numbers are far from few.
“It’ll literally take months,” Sam says again in a
disbelieving whisper.
“Well, we have less than an hour,” I whisper back. “So we
better hurry.”
“I think we can put a big X through all those dark narrow
tunnels that look obstructed.”
“I agree. We should start with the one directly across
from us,” I say, looking at what appears to be the central
room’s main artery, wider and better lit than the others, the
one with the greatest number of Mogs coming and going.
The bridge over to it is just a long arch of solid rock that, at
most, is two feet wide. “Think you can make it across that
archway?”
“We’re about to find out,” Sam replies.
“Lead or follow?” I ask.
“Let me lead.”
Sam takes his first few steps uncertainly. Since we have
to keep our hands locked, for the first forty feet or so we
shuffle along sideways. It takes forever, and if we’re to get
to the other side and back again, there’s no way we can do
it at this pace.
“Just don’t look down,” I say to Sam.
“Don’t be cliche,” he responds, squaring his body. We
move ahead slowly, and I wish I could see my feet for just
this obstacle. I’m so focused on not falling that I don’t feel
Sam stop ahead of me, which causes me to stumble into
him, nearly knocking us both off the bridge.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my heart thudding in my
chest. I look up and see why he’s stopped. Racing towards
us is a Mogadorian soldier. He comes charging across in a
jog, and he’s already so close there’s hardly time to react.
“There’s nowhere to go,” Sam says. The soldier
continues forward, cradling a wrapped bundle in his arms,
and when he’s close enough I feel Sam crouch. A second
later, the Mog’s feet are swept out from under him,
completely catching the soldier off guard. He falls over the
side of the bridge and catches himself with one hand as the
bundle he was carrying drops away. The Mog cries out in
pain as my invisible foot crushes his fingers, and he lets go
and drops through the air, splattering far below with a sickly
thud.
Sam races us forward before any further calamities
arise. Every single Mog in the area has stopped in
midstride, staring at one another with confused
expressions. I wonder if they believe what just happened
was an accident, or if they’re now on alert.
Sam squeezes my hand in relief when we’ve made it
across, and he lurches ahead, having gained a world of
confidence from killing the soldier.
The next corridor is wide and busy, and it doesn’t take
long for Sam and me to realize we’re heading in the wrong
direction; the rooms we pass are exclusively private, and
the entire wing seems to be where the Mogs live: caves
with beds, a large open cafeteria with hundreds of tables, a
shooting range. We rush down a nearby corridor, but the
result is the same. And then we try a third.
We follow the winding tunnel deeper into the mountain.
Several tributaries lead away from the main drag, and Sam
and I randomly turn down them based on nothing more than
gut feeling. Aside from the main hall we entered, the rest of
the mountain is nothing more than an interconnected
network of damp stone corridors, off of which various
rooms house research centers with examination tables,
computers and shiny, sharp instruments. We pass several
scientific laboratories that we both wish we had the time to
investigate further as we rush by. We’ve probably run a
mile, maybe two, and with each new corridor that turns up
nothing, stress floods my veins.
“We can’t have more than fifteen minutes left, John.”
“I’m aware of that,” I whisper, desperate and irritated and
quickly losing hope.
When we take the next turn and rush up a steady incline,
we pass the thing I’d feared most: a room full of prison
cells. Sam stops in midstride and keeps a firm grip on my
hand, causing me to stop as well. Twenty to thirty
Mogadorians guard more than forty cells, all lined up in a
row, with heavy steel doors. In front of each door, there’s a
bubbling blue force field pulsing with electricity.
“Look at all those cells,” Sam says. I know he’s thinking
of his dad.
“Wait a second,” I say, the solution flashing into my head
from out of nowhere. It’s so obvious.
“What?” Sam asks.
“I know where the Chest is,” I say.
“Seriously?”
“So stupid of me,” I whisper. “Sam, if you could pick just
one place in this entire hellhole where you’d absolutely
refuse to go, where would that place be?”
“In the pit with the howling beasts,” he answers without a
second’s hesitation.
“Exactly,” I say. “Come on, let’s go.”
I lead him back up the corridor that’ll empty out at the
cave’s center; but before we’ve left the cells behind, a door
clangs open and Sam jerks his hand to stop me.
“Look,” he says.
The nearest cell door stands wide-open. Two guards
enter. They speak angrily for ten seconds in their native
tongue, and when they exit they’re clutching the arms of a
pale, emaciated man in his late twenties. He’s weak to the
point of having trouble walking, and Sam’s grip tightens as
the guards shove him forward. One of them unlocks a
second door, and all three disappear through it.
“Who do you think they have locked up in there?” he asks
as I pull him forward.
“We gotta go, Sam,” I say. “We don’t have the time.”
“They’re torturing humans, John,” he says when we finally
reach the central hive. “Human beings.”
“I know,” I say, scanning the mammoth room for the
quickest route down. There are Mogs everywhere, but I’ve
become so used to passing by them that they no longer
bother me. And besides, something tells me I’m about to
find far scarier things than scouts and soldiers.
“People with families who probably have no idea where
they’ve disappeared to,” Sam whispers.
“I know, I know,” I say. “Come on, we’ll talk about it when
we’re out of here. Maybe Six will have some sort of plan.”
We sprint around the spiral ledge and start down a tall
ladder, but find it’s nearly impossible to do so while holding
the person’s hand above you. I look down. There’s still a far
way to go.
“We have to jump,” I say to Sam. “Otherwise it’ll take ten
minutes to get all the way down there.”
“Jump?” he asks incredulously. “It’ll kill us.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’ll catch you.”
“How the hell are you going to catch me if I’m holding
your hand the whole time?”
But there isn’t time to argue or debate. I take a deep
breath, and leap from the ledge a hundred feet above the
cave’s bottom. Sam howls, but the continuous clatter of
manufacturing drowns out the noise. My feet hit the
unyielding stone, and the force knocks me backwards; but I
keep a firm grip on Sam, who lands on top of me.
“Never again are we doing that,” he says, standing.
The ground floor is so hot it’s nearly impossible to
breathe, but we sprint around the green lake towards the
massive gate keeping the beasts locked away. When we
reach it, a cool wind gusts through the bars, and I realize
that the regular blasts of fresh air prevent any of the gas
from entering this tunnel.
“John, I really don’t think there’s any time left,” Sam
pleads.
“I know,” I say, letting a group of ten or so Mogs exit
ahead of us.
We enter a dark tunnel. The walls look mucus covered,
and barred chambers line each side of the shaft. Down the
middle of the ceiling ten huge industrial fans blow, all
pointed towards the entry we just came through, keeping
the air cool and moist. Some of the locked chambers are
small, though others are large, and bursting out of them all
are feral and ferocious sounds. In the cage on our left are
twenty to thirty krauls jumping over one another while letting
loose shrill yips. Imprisoned on our right is a pack of
demonic-looking dogs the size of wolves, with yellow eyes
and no hair. Beside them stands a creature that looks like a
troll, complete with a wart-covered nose. In a larger cell
across the way a massive piken not unlike the one who
busted through the prison wall that morning paces back and
forth, sniffing the air.
“We might as well not even bother with these smaller
rooms,” I say. “If my Chest is here, it’ll be in the biggest
room at the end of this tunnel. I don’t even want to take a
guess at what kind of beast needs a door that large to fit
through.”
“We’re down to seconds, John.”
“We better hurry then,” I say, pulling Sam forward while
quickly taking in the different horrors corralled here:
gargoylelike winged creatures, monsters with six arms and
red skin, several more pikens standing twenty feet tall, a
wide reptilian mutant with trident-shaped horns, a monster
with skin so transparent that its internal organs are on
display.
“Whoa,” I say, stopping at a group of rounded tanks and
vessels, most of which are silver, though two are copper
colored and lined with heat gauges. Some kind of boiler
room, I guess.
“So that’s what’s keeping this place going,” Sam says.
“This has to be it,” I reply. The tallest silo goes to the
ceiling, and every tank is connected with heavy pipes,
spouts, and aluminum ducts. Beside the silo, a control
panel is affixed to the wall with a heap of electrical wires
pouring out.
“Come on,” Sam says, impatiently jerking my hand.
Together we run the rest of the way to the tunnel’s end.
There’s a massive door, forty to fifty feet tall and wide,
made entirely of steel. To its right is a small wooden door.
It’s unlocked, and instantly I see why.
“Holy God,” Sam whispers, taking in the beast’s
enormity.
I’m momentarily stunned myself, and all I can do is stare
at it: a hulking mass slumped in the room’s far corner. Its
eyes are closed and it breathes rhythmically. The beast
must be fifty feet tall when standing, and from what I can tell
its dark body is shaped like a man’s, but with much longer
arms.
“I want nothing to do with this place,” Sam says.
“You sure?” I ask, nudging him so his gaze leaves the
monster. “Look.”
There, in the center of the room, at eye level atop a thick
stone pedestal, is my Chest. And right beside it sits a
second one, almost identical in appearance. Both of them
there for the taking. Except for the iron bars around them,
which are housed beneath a humming and crackling
electrical force field surrounded by a moat of the steaming
green liquid. And the slumbering giant.
“That’s not Six’s Chest,” I say.
“What are you talking about? Who else’s would it be?”
Sam asks, confused.
“They found us, Sam. In Florida, they found us by opening
Six’s Chest.”
“Right, I know.”
“But look at the padlock on it. Why would they put the lock
back on a Chest that they probably had a hell of a time
getting into in the first place? I think that one’s never been
opened.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“It could be any of ours,” I whisper, shaking my head while
staring up at them both. “Number Five’s or Nine’s or
anyone’s who isn’t dead yet.”
“So they stole the Chest and didn’t kill the Garde?”
“Like they did with me. Or maybe the Mogs caught one of
them and they’re being held here like Six was,” I say.
Sam doesn’t get a chance to answer, because just then
the alarm on his wristwatch begins to beep. Three seconds
later it’s followed by the whine of a hundred sirens echoing
off the walls of the cave.
“Aw hell,” I say, turning my head. “I can see you, Sam.”
He nods, a panicked look on his face. He lets go of my
hand. “I can see you, too.”
When I look over Sam’s shoulder, the beast’s eyes have
come open—blank and white—narrowing in our direction.

The Power of Six - Chapter 27


Chapter 27


A GROWL COMES FROM MY LEFT, AND I LIFT MY head to see
another man in a trench coat with long brown hair. I rush to
my feet as the Mogadorian lifts his hand. A flash of light
comes from it and hits me hard in the left shoulder, sending
me flying backwards. The pain is instant and blinding. It
runs down my arm, white-hot as though electricity has hit
the bone and travels through it. My left hand feels dead, and
with my right I reach up and touch the new gash on my
shoulder. I lift my head and look up hopelessly at the
Mogadorian.
The charm, I think. Adelina told me when we traveled that
I couldn’t be killed unless it was in the order set by the
Elders. This wound could be bad enough to kill me. I look
down at my ankle to see if there are six scars instead of the
three I’ve been living with for the last several months, but
nothing has changed. Then how can I be killed? How can I
be hurt this badly … unless the charm has been broken.
My eyes meet the Mogadorian’s, and he bursts into a
heap of ash. For a crazy moment I think the intensity of my
own thoughts is what killed him, but then I see that standing
just behind him is the Mogadorian from the cafe. The one
with the book, the one I’ve been running from. I don’t
understand. Does their selfishness run so deep that they’ll
kill one another to be the one who kills me?
“Marina,” he says.
“I, I can kill you,” I say in a shaky voice full of sorrow. The
blood continues flowing from my shoulder and runs down
my arm. I look over at Adelina’s body and start to cry.
“I’m not who you think I am,” he says, jogging over to me
and reaching out his hand. “Time is extremely short,” he
says. “I’m one of you, and I’m here to help.”
I take his hand. What other choice do I have? He pulls me
up, and from the nave before any others arrive. He leads
me down the northern hallway and to the second floor,
heading towards the belfry tower. My shoulder screams in
pain with each step.
“Who are you?” I ask. A hundred different questions race
through my head. If he’s one of us, then why did it take him
so long to tell me? Why torture me into believing he was
one of them? Can I even trust him?
“Shhh,” he whispers. “Keep quiet.”
The musty hallway is silent, and as it narrows, I hear
dozens of heavy footsteps on the floor below us. Finally, we
reach the oak door. It opens just a crack, and a girl’s head
sticks out. I gasp. Auburn hair, curious brown eyes, small
features. She’s older by years, but there’s no mistaking that
it’s her.
“Ella?” I ask.
She looks eleven years old, maybe twelve. Her face,
which brightens at the sight of mine, is more slender now.
Ella pulls the door open so we can enter.
“Hi, Marina,” she says in a voice I don’t recognize.
The man pulls me in, shutting the door. He wedges a
thick wooden board between the door and the bottom stair,
and the three of us rush up the circular stone steps. When
we get to the belfry, I take another look at Ella. All I can do
is stare at her, wide-eyed and confused, no longer feeling
the blood rolling down my arm, dripping from my fingertips.
“Marina, my name is Crayton,” the man says. “I’m sorry
about your Cepan. I wish I had gotten there sooner.”
“Adelina’s dead?” the older version of Ella asks.
“I don’t understand,” I say, still staring at Ella.
“We’ll explain it all to you, I promise. There isn’t much
time. You’re losing a lot of blood,” Crayton says. “You can
heal people, correct? Can you heal yourself?”
With all the confusion and running, I hadn’t considered
healing myself, but when I place the palm of my right hand
over the gaping wound, I try it. The iciness tickles as the
gash closes itself and the dead numbness is pushed from
my hand and arm. After thirty seconds, I’m as good as new.
“Please be more careful with this,” Crayton says. “It’s far
more vital than you know.”
I look to where he’s pointing. “My Chest!”
There’s an explosion nearby. The tower sways, and dust
and rocks drop from the ceiling and walls. More rocks fall
as another blast takes me off my feet. I use my telekinesis
to stop their descent, and I fling them out the window.
“They’re searching for us, and it’s not going to take long
until they realize where we are,” he says. He looks at Ella,
and then at me. “She’s one of you. A member of the Garde
from Lorien.”
“But she’s not old enough,” I say, shaking my head,
unable to replace the younger version I’ve come to know
with this older one. “I don’t get it.”
“Do you know what an Aeternus is?”
I shake my head.
“Show her, Ella.”
While standing in front of me, Ella begins to change. Her
arms shorten and her shoulders narrow; she loses twenty
centimeters of height, and her weight drops significantly.
The shrinking of her face shocks me the most, and quickly
she looks like the tiny girl I’ve come to love.
“She’s an Aeternus,” Crayton says. “She’s able to move
back and forth between different ages.”
“I—I didn’t know that was possible,” I stutter.
“Ella’s eleven years old,” he says. “She came with me on
a second ship from Lorien that left after yours. She was just
a baby, only hours old. Loridas, the last remaining Elder,
sacrificed himself so that Ella could assume his role and
grow into his powers.”
As I’m looking at Crayton, Ella slips her hand into mine
as she’s done so many times before; but it feels different
now. I glance over and see that she’s returned to the older,
taller version of herself. Recognizing my discomfort, Ella
shrinks back down, the four years quickly melting away until
she’s seven again.
“She’s the tenth child,” he says. “The tenth Elder. We
created a rumor about her backstory, her parents dying in a
car accident, and we sent her here to live with you to watch
over you and be the eyes I needed.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth, Marina,” she says in
her soft voice. “But I’m the best secret-keeper in the whole
world, just like you said.”
“I know you are,” I say.
“I was just waiting for Adelina to give you your Chest,”
she says, smiling.
“Do you know who the tenth Elder was?” Crayton asks.
“Changing his age is how Loridas was able to live as long
as he did, even after the other Elders had passed away.
Each time he grew old, he made himself young again, and
assumed the vitality that comes with it.”
“Are you Ella’s Cepan?”
“Only in the surrogate sense of the word. Since she was
just born, she hadn’t been assigned a Cepan yet.”
“I thought you were a Mogadorian,” I say.
“I know, but only because you misinterpreted the clues.
This morning when I was talking to Hector, I was trying to
show you I was a friend.”
“But why didn’t you just come and get me when you
arrived? Why send Ella in?”
“I tried approaching Adelina first, but she cast me out the
second she knew who I was, and we needed you to have
your Chest. I couldn’t pull you away without it,” he says. “So I
sent Ella in, and she started looking for it even before you
asked her to. The Mogadorians have known your general
location for a good while now, and I’ve done my best to
keep them off your trail. Killing some, well, killing most, but
also planting stories in villages hundreds of miles away,
about kids doing amazing things, like about a boy who
lifted a car above his head and a girl who could walk
across a lake. It was working until they discovered you were
in Santa Teresa; but even then, they still didn’t know which
one you were. Then Ella found the Chest and you opened it,
and that’s when I came here, to talk to you in private. When
you opened the Chest, it led the Mogadorians right here.”
“Because I opened the Chest?”
“Yes. Go ahead, open it up now.”
I let go of Ella’s hand and grab hold of the lock. I’m sick
thinking that I’m able to open it on my own, now that Adelina
is dead. I remove the lock and toss the lid open. The small
crystal is still glowing a faint blue.
“Don’t touch that,” he says. “The fact that it’s glowing
means a Macrocosm is in orbit somewhere. If you touch it
now, it will tell them exactly where you are. I don’t know
whose Macrocosm is operational, but I’m pretty sure the
Mogadorians have stolen somebody’s,” he finishes. I
haven’t the slightest idea of what he’s talking about.
“Macrocosm?” I ask.
He shakes his head, frustrated. “There isn’t time to
explain it all,” he says. “Relock it.” He opens his mouth to
say more, but is interrupted by banging on the door at the
bottom of the stairs. We can hear muffled bursts of foreign
voices.
“We have to go,” Crayton says, rushing to the back of the
room and grabbing a large black suitcase. He flings it
open, revealing ten different guns, a handful of grenades,
several daggers. He shrugs his coat to the floor and reveals
a leather vest, and he rushes to strap every piece of
weaponry to it before slipping his coat back on.
The Mogadorians ram the door below with a heavy
object, and we hear footsteps enter the stairwell. Crayton
removes one of the guns and snaps a clip into it.
“The burning symbol on the mountain,” I say. “Was it
you?”
He nods. “I waited too long, I’m afraid, and when you
opened the Chest it became impossible to slip away under
their gaze. So I created the biggest beacon I could, and
now we have to hope the others have seen it, and that
they’re on the way. Otherwise …” He trails off. “Well,
otherwise we’re out of options. We have to get to the lake
now. It’s our only chance.”
I have no idea what lake he’s talking about, or why he
wants to go there, but my whole body is trembling. I just
want to get away.
The footsteps are closer. Ella grabs hold of my hand,
back to her eleven-year-old self. Crayton pulls the slide on
the gun, and I hear a bullet clicking into place. He aims it at
the belfry’s entryway.
“You have a very good friend in town,” he says.
“Hector?” I ask, suddenly understanding why the two of
them were talking in the cafe this morning. Crayton wasn’t
spreading lies, but rather telling the truth.
“Yes, and let’s hope he keeps his word.”
“Hector will,” I say, certain that’s true regardless of what
Crayton has asked him to do. “It’s in his name,” I add.
“Grab the Chest,” Crayton says.
I reach down and take the Chest in my left arm just as we
hear the footsteps reach the last curves of the stairwell.
“Both of you, stay close to me,” Crayton says, his eyes
moving from Ella to me. “She was born able to change
ages, but she’s young and hasn’t developed any Legacies
yet. Keep her close. And don’t let go of that Chest.”
“Don’t worry, Marina. I’m fast,” she says, smiling.
“You two ready?”
“Ready,” Ella says, tightening her hand around mine.
“They’re all going to be wearing body armor that would
stop almost every bullet here on Earth,” Crayton says, “but
I’ve soaked mine in Loricyde, and there isn’t a shield here
that could stop them. I’m going to mow every damn one of
them down.” His eyes narrow. “Keep your fingers crossed
that Hector’s outside the gates waiting for us.”
“He’ll be there,” I say.
Then Crayton pulls the trigger, and he doesn’t let go until
every bullet’s been fired.