Information about the book
6A. Seriously? I look at the boarding pass in my
hand, its large type announcing my seat assignment, and wonder if Crayton chose this seat on
purpose. It could be a coincidence, but the way
things have gone recently, I am not a big believer
in coincidences. I wouldn’t be surprised if Marina
sat down behind me in row seven, and Ella made
her way back to row ten. But, no, the two girls drop
down beside me without saying a word, and join me
in studying each person boarding the plane. Being
hunted, you are constantly on guard. Who knows
when the Mogadorians might appear.
Crayton will board last, after he’s watched to see
who else gets on the plane, and only once he feels
the flight is absolutely secure.
I raise the window shade and watch the ground
crew hustle back and forth under the plane. The
city of Barcelona is a faint outline in the distance.
Marina’s knee bounces furiously up and down
next to mine. The battle against an army of Mogadorians yesterday at the lake, the death of her Cêpan,
finding her Chest – and now, it’s the first time in
almost ten years that she’s left the town where she
spent her childhood. She’s nervous.
‘Everything okay?’ I ask. My newly blond hair
falls into my face and startles me. I forgot I dyed it
this morning. It’s just one of many changes in the
last forty-eight hours.
‘Everyone looks normal,’ Marina whispers, keeping her eyes on the crowded aisle. ‘We’re safe, as
far as I can tell.’
‘Good, but that’s not what I meant.’ I gently set
my foot on hers and she stops bouncing her knee.
She offers me a quick apologetic smile before returning to her close watch of each boarding passenger.
A few seconds later, her knee starts bouncing again.
I just shake my head.
I feel sorry for Marina. She was locked up in an
isolated orphanage with a Cêpan who refused to
train her. Her Cêpan had lost sight of why we are
here on Earth in the first place. I’m doing my best to
help her, to fill in the gaps. I can train her to learn
how to control her strength and when to use her
developing Legacies. But first I’m trying to show her
that it’s okay to trust me.
The Mogadorians will pay for what they’ve done.
For taking so many whom we’ve loved, here on
Earth and on Lorien. It’s my personal mission to
destroy every last one of them, and I’ll be sure
Marina gets her revenge too. Not only did she just
lose her best friend, Héctor, back at the lake, but,
like me, her Cêpan was killed right in front of her. We
will both carry that with us forever.
‘How is it down there, Six?’ Ella asks, leaning
over Marina.
I turn back towards the window. The men below
the plane begin to clear away their equipment, conducting a few last-minute checks. ‘So far, so good.’
My seat is directly over the wing, which is comforting to me. On more than one occasion I’ve had
to use my Legacies to help a pilot out of a jam. Once,
over southern Mexico, I used my telekinesis to push
the plane a dozen degrees to the right, only seconds
before crashing into the side of a mountain. Last
year I got 124 passengers safely through a vicious
thunderstorm over Kansas by surrounding the
plane with an impervious cloud of cool air. We shot
through the storm like a bullet through a balloon.
When the ground crew moves on to the next plane,
I follow Ella’s gaze towards the front of the aisle.
We’re both impatient for Crayton to board. That will
mean everything is okay, at least for now. Every
seat is full but the one behind Ella. Where is he? I
glance out at the wing again, scanning the area for
anything out of the ordinary.
I lean down and shove my backpack under my seat.
It’s practically empty, so it folds down easily. Crayton
bought it for me at the airport. The three of us need
to look like normal teenagers, he says, like high
school students on a field trip. That’s why there’s a
biology textbook on Ella’s lap.
‘Six?’ Marina asks. I hear her buckle and unbuckle
her seat belt nervously.
‘Yeah?’ I respond.
‘You’ve flown before, right?’
Marina is only a year older than I am. But with her
solemn, thoughtful eyes and her new, sophisticated
haircut that falls just below her shoulders, she can
easily pass for an adult. Right now, however, she
bites her nails and pulls her knees up to her chest
like a scared child.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It’s not so bad. In fact, once you relax,
it’s kind of awesome.’
Sitting there on the plane, my thoughts turn in
the direction of my own Cêpan, Katarina. Not that I
ever flew with her. But when I was nine years old,
we had a close call in a Cleveland alley with a Mogadorian that left us both shaken and covered in a
thick layer of ash. Katarina moved us to Southern
California after that. Our crumbling, two-story bungalow was near the beach, practically in the shadow
of Los Angeles International Airport. A hundred
planes roared overhead every hour, always interrupting Katarina’s teaching, as well as the little free
time I had to spend with my only friend, a skinny
girl next door named Ashley.
I lived under those airplanes for seven months.
They were my alarm clock in the morning, screaming directly over my bed as the sun rose. At night
they were ominous ghosts telling me to stay awake,
to be prepared to rip off my sheets and jump in the
car in a matter of seconds. Since Katarina didn’t let
me stray far from the house, the airplanes were
also the sound track of my afternoons.
On one of those afternoons, as the vibrations from
an enormous plane overhead shook the lemonade in
our plastic cups, Ashley said, ‘Me and my mom are
going to visit my grandparents next month. I can’t
wait! Have you ever been on a plane?’ Ashley was
always talking about all the places she went and
things she did with her family. She knew Katarina
and I stayed close to home and she liked to brag.
‘Not really,’ I said.
‘What do you mean, “Not really”? You’ve either
been on a plane, or you haven’t. Just admit it. You
haven’t.’
I remember feeling my face burn with embarrassment. Her challenge hit its mark. I finally said, ‘No,
I’ve never been on an airplane.’ I wanted to tell her
I’ve been on something much bigger, something
much more impressive than a little airplane. I
wanted her to know I came to Earth on a ship from
another planet called Lorien and the trip had
covered more than 100 million miles. I didn’t,
though, because I knew I had to keep Lorien secret.
Ashley laughed at me. Without saying good-bye,
she left to wait for her dad to come home from
work.
‘Why haven’t we ever been on a plane?’ I asked
Katarina that night as she peered out the blinds of
my bedroom window.
‘Six,’ she said, turning to me before correcting
herself. ‘I mean, Veronica. It’s too dangerous for us
to travel by plane. We’d be trapped up there. You
know what could happen if we were thousands of
miles in the air and then found out Mogs had
followed us on board?’
I knew exactly what could happen. I could picture
the chaos, the other passengers screaming and
ducking under their seats as a couple of huge alien
soldiers barreled down the aisle with swords. But
that didn’t stop me from wanting to do something so
normal, so human, as to fly on a plane from one city
to the next. I’d spent all my time on Earth unable to
do the things other kids my age took for granted. We
rarely even stayed in one place long enough for me
to meet other kids, let alone make friends – Ashley
was the first girl Katarina even allowed over to our
house. Sometimes, like in California, I didn’t even
attend school, if Katarina thought it was safer.
I knew why all this was necessary, of course. Usually, I didn’t let it bother me. But Katarina could tell
that Ashley’s superior attitude had gotten under my
skin. My silence the following days must have cut
through her, because to my surprise she bought us
two round-trip airline tickets to Denver. The destination didn’t matter – she knew I just wanted the
experience.
I couldn’t wait to tell Ashley.
But on the day of the trip, standing outside the
airport, Katarina hesitated. She seemed nervous.
She ran her hand through her short black hair. She
had dyed and cut it the night before, just before
making herself a new ID. A family of five walked
around us on the curb, dragging heavy luggage, and
to my left a tearful mother said good-bye to her two
young daughters. I wanted nothing more than to
join in, to be a part of this everyday scene. Katarina
watched everyone around us while I fidgeted impatiently by her side.
‘No,’ Katarina finally said. ‘We’re not going. I’m
sorry, Veronica, but it’s not worth it.’
We drove home in silence, letting the screaming
engines of the planes passing overhead speak for
us. When we got out of the car on our street, I saw
Ashley sitting on her front steps. She looked at me
walking towards our house and mouthed the word
liar. The humiliation was almost too much to bear.
But, really, I was a liar. It’s ironic. Lying was all
I had done since I’d arrived on Earth. My name,
where I was from, where my father was, why I
couldn’t stay the night at another girl’s house –
lying was all I knew and it was what kept me alive.
But when Ashley called me a liar the one time I was
telling someone the truth, I was unspeakably angry.
I stormed up to my room, slammed the door, and
punched the wall.
To my surprise, my fist went straight through.
Katarina slammed my door open, wielding a kitchen knife and ready to strike. She thought the noise
she’d heard must be Mogs. When she saw what I
had done to the wall, she realized that something
had changed with me. She lowered the blade and
smiled. ‘Today’s not the day you get on a plane, but
it is the day you’re going to start your training.’
Seven years later, sitting on this plane with Marina and Ella, I hear Katarina’s voice in my head.
‘We’d be trapped up there.’ But I’m ready for that
possibility now, in ways that Katarina and I weren’t.
I’ve since flown dozens of times, and everything
has gone fine. However, this is the first time I’ve
done it without using my invisibility Legacy to sneak
on board. I know I’m much stronger now. And I’m
getting stronger by the day. If a couple of Mog soldiers charged at me from the front of the plane,
they wouldn’t be dealing with a meek young girl. I
know what I’m capable of; I am a soldier now, a
warrior. I am someone to fear, not hunt.
Marina lets go of her knees and sits up straight,
releasing a long breath. In a barely audible voice,
she says, ‘I’m scared. I just want to get in the air.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ I say in a low voice.
She smiles, and I smile back at her. Marina proved
herself to be a strong ally with amazing Legacies on
the battlefield yesterday. She can breathe under
water, see in the dark, and heal the sick and wounded.
Like all Garde, she also has telekinesis. And because
we’re so close in order – I’m Number Six and she’s
Number Seven – our bond is special. When the charm
still held and we had to be killed in order, the Mogadorians would have had to get through me before
they could get to her. And they never would have
gotten through me.
Ella sits silently on the other side of Marina. As
we continue to wait for Crayton, she opens the biology book on her lap and stares at the pages. Our
charade does not demand this level of concentration
and I’m about to lean over and tell her, but then I
see she isn’t reading at all. She is trying to turn the
page with her mind, trying to use telekinesis, but
nothing’s happening.
Ella is what Crayton calls an Aeternus, someone
born with the ability to move back and forth between
ages. But she’s still young and her Legacies have
not yet developed. They will come in their own time,
no matter how impatiently she wills them to develop
now.
Ella came to Earth on another ship, one I didn’t
know existed until John Smith, Number Four, told
me he saw it in his visions. She was just a baby,
which means she’s almost twelve now. Crayton says
he is her unofficial Cêpan, since there wasn’t time
for him to be officially appointed to her. He, like all
of our Cêpans, has a duty to help Ella develop her
Legacies. He told us that there was also a small
herd of Chimæra on their ship, Loric animals capable of shifting forms and battling alongside us.
I’m happy she’s here. After Numbers One, Two, and
Three died, only six of us remained. With Ella, we
number seven. Lucky number seven, if you believe
in luck. I don’t, though. I believe in strength.
Finally, Crayton squeezes down the aisle, carrying
a black briefcase. He’s wearing eyeglasses and a
brown suit that looks too big for him. Under his
strong chin is a blue bow tie. He’s supposed to be
our teacher.
‘Hello, girls,’ he says, stopping next to us.
‘Hi, Mr Collins,’ Ella responds.
‘It’s a full flight,’ Marina says. That’s code for
everyone on board looks okay. To tell him everything on the ground appears normal, I say, ‘I’m
going to try to sleep.’
He nods and takes his seat directly behind Ella.
Leaning forward between Marina and Ella, he says,
‘Use your time on the plane wisely, please. Study
hard.’
That means, don’t let your guard down.
I didn’t know what to think of Crayton when we
first met. He’s stern and quick tempered, but his
heart seems to be in the right place and his knowledge of the world and current events is incredible.
Official or not, he has taken his Cêpan role seriously.
He says he would die for any one of us. He will do
anything to defeat the Mogadorians; anything to
exact our revenge. I believe him on all counts.
However, it’s with reluctance that I’m on this
plane headed to India at all. I wanted to get back
to the United States as soon as possible, to get back
to John and Sam. But yesterday, standing on top of
the dam overlooking the carnage at the lake, Crayton
told us that Setrákus Ra, the powerful Mogadorian
leader, would be on Earth soon, if he wasn’t here
already. That Setrákus’s arrival was a sign that
the Mogadorians understood we were a threat, and
we should expect them to step up their campaign to
kill us. Setrákus is more or less invincible. Only
Pittacus Lore, the most powerful of all the Lorien
Elders, would have been able to defeat him. We
were horrified. What did that mean for the rest of
us then, if he was invincible? When Marina asked
this, asked how any of us could possibly stand a
chance of defeating him, Crayton told us even more
shocking news, knowledge that all the Cêpans had
been entrusted with. One of the Garde – one of us –
was supposed to hold the same powers as Pittacus.
One of us was supposed to grow as strong as he had
been, and would be able to beat Setrákus Ra. We just
had to hope that that Garde wasn’t One, Two, or
Three, that it was one of the ones still alive. If so,
we had a chance. We just had to wait and see who
it was, and hope that these powers showed themselves soon.
Crayton thinks he’s found him – the Garde who
holds Pittacus’ powers.
‘I’ve read about a boy who seems to have extraordinary powers in India,’ he told us then. ‘He lives
high up in the Himalayas. Some believe him to be
the Hindu god Vishnu reincarnated, others believe
the boy is an alien imposter with the power to physically alter his form.’
‘Like me, Papa?’ Ella had asked. Their fatherdaughter relationship took me by surprise. I couldn’t
help but feel a touch of jealousy – jealousy that
she still had her Cêpan, someone to turn to for
guidance.
‘He’s not changing ages, Ella. He’s changing into
beasts and other beings. The more I read about him,
the more I believe he is a member of the Garde,
and the more I believe he may be the one to possess
all of the Legacies, the one who can fight and kill
Setrákus. We need to find him as soon as possible.’
I don’t want to be on a wild goose chase for
another member of the Garde right now. I know
where John is, or where he is supposed to be. I
can hear Katarina’s voice, urging me to follow my
instincts, which are telling me we should connect
with John first before anything else. It’s the least
risky move. Certainly less risky than flying around
the world based on Crayton’s hunch and rumors on
the Internet.
‘It could be a trap,’ I said. ‘What if those stories
were planted for us to find so we would do exactly
this?’
‘I understand your concern, Six, but, trust me, I’m
the master of planting stories on the Internet. This
is no plant. There are far too many sources pointing
to this boy in India. He hasn’t been running. He
hasn’t been hiding. He’s just being, and he appears
to be very powerful. If he is one of you, then we
must get to him before the Mogadorians do. We’ll go
to America to meet up with Number Four as soon as
this trip is over,’ Crayton said.
Marina looked at me. She wanted to find John
almost as much as I did – she’d been following the
news of his exploits online and she’d had a similar
feeling in her gut that he was one of us, a feeling I
had confirmed for her. ‘Promise?’ she asked Crayton. He nodded.
The captain’s voice breaks through my reverie.
We’re about to take off. I want so badly to redirect the
plane to point it towards West Virginia. Towards John
and Sam. I hope they’re okay. Images of John being
held in a prison cell keep entering my mind. I never
should have told him about the Mog base in the mountain, but John wanted to get his Chest back and there
was no way I could convince him to leave it behind.
The plane taxis down the runway and Marina
grabs my wrist. ‘I really wish Héctor was here. He’d
have something smart to say right now to make me
feel better.’
‘It’s okay,’ Ella says, holding Marina’s other hand.
‘You have us.’
‘And I’ll work on something smart to say,’ I offer.
‘Thanks,’ Marina says, though it sounds like something between a hiccup and a gulp. I let her nails dig
into my wrist. I give her a supportive smile, and a
minute later we’re airborne.
I’ve been in and out of consciousness for the past two days,
rolling back and forth in a hallucinating sickness. The effects
from the blue force field outside the Mogadorians’ mountain
have lingered far longer than Nine told me they would, both
mentally and physically. Every few minutes, my muscles seize
and sear with pain.
I try to distract myself from the agony by looking around
the tiny bedroom of this decaying, abandoned house. Nine
couldn’t have picked a more disgusting place for us to hide. I
can’t trust my eyes. I watch the pattern on the yellow wallpaper come to life, the design marching like ants over patches
of mold. The cracked ceiling appears to breathe, rising and
falling at frightening speeds. A large jagged hole in the wall
separates the bedroom and living room, as if someone
tossed a sledgehammer through it. Smashed beer cans are
strewn around the room, and the baseboards have been
torn to shreds by animals. I’ve been hearing things rustling in
the trees outside the house, but I’m too weak to be alarmed.
Last night I woke to find a cockroach on my cheek. I barely
had the energy to swat it off.
‘Hey, Four?’ I hear through the hole in the wall. ‘You awake
or what? It’s time for lunch and your food’s getting cold.’
I heave myself to my feet. My head spins as I stumble
through the doorway into what used to be the living room,
and I collapse on the dingy gray carpet. I know Nine’s in here,
but I can’t keep my eyes open long enough to find him. All
I want is to lay my head in Sarah’s lap. Or in Six’s. Either one.
I can’t think straight.
Something warm hits my shoulder. I roll over to see Nine
sitting on the ceiling above me, his long black hair hanging
down into the room. He’s gnawing on something and his
hands are greasy.
‘Where are we again?’ I ask. The sunlight coming through
the windows is too much and I close my eyes. I need more
sleep. I need something, anything, to clear my head and
regain my strength. My fingers fumble over my blue pendant,
hoping to somehow gather energy through it, but it remains
cold against my chest.
‘The northern part of West Virginia,’ Nine says between
bites. ‘Ran out of gas, remember?’
‘Barely,’ I whisper. ‘Where’s Bernie Kosar?’
‘Outside. That one is always on patrol. He is one cool
animal. Tell me, Four, how did you of all the Garde end up
with him?’
I crawl into the corner of the room and push my back up
against a wall. ‘BK was with me on Lorien. His name was
Hadley back then. I guess Henri thought it would be good to
bring him along for the trip.’
Nine throws a tiny bone across the ceiling. ‘I had a couple
of Chimæras as a kid too. Don’t remember their names, but
I can still see them running around our house tearing stuff
up. They died in the war, protecting my family.’ Nine is silent
for a moment, clenching his jaw. This is the first time I’ve
seen him act anything other than tough. It’s nice to see,
even if it’s short lived. ‘At least, that’s what my Cêpan told me,
anyway.’
I stare at my bare feet. ‘What was your Cêpan’s name?’
‘Sandor,’ he says, standing up on the ceiling. He’s wearing
my shoes. ‘It’s weird. I literally can’t remember the last time I
said his name out loud. Some days, I can barely picture his
face.’ Nine’s voice hardens, and he closes his eyes. ‘But that’s
how it goes, I guess. Whatever. They’re the expendable ones.’
His last sentence sends shockwaves through me. ‘Henri
was not expendable, and neither was Sandor! No Loric was
ever expendable. And give me back my shoes!’
Nine kicks my shoes into the middle of the floor, then takes
his time walking first along the ceiling and then down the
back wall. ‘All right, all right. I know he wasn’t expendable,
man. Sometimes it’s just easier to think of him that way, you
know? Truth is, Sandor was an amazing Cêpan.’ Nine reaches
the floor and towers over me. I forgot how tall he is. Intimidating. He shoves a handful of what he’s been eating in my face.
‘You want some of this or not? Because I’m about to finish
it off.’
The sight of it makes my stomach churn. ‘What is it?’
‘Barbecued rabbit. Nature’s finest.’
I don’t dare open my mouth to respond, afraid that I might
get sick. Instead, I stumble back towards the bedroom, ignoring the laughter that follows me. The bedroom door is so
warped it’s nearly impossible to close, but I wedge it into the
doorframe as tightly as I can. I lie down on the floor, using my
sweatshirt as a pillow, and think about how I ended up here,
ended up like this. Without Henri. Without Sam. Sam is my
best friend, and I can’t believe we left him behind. As thoughtful and loyal and supportive as Sam is – traveling and fighting
alongside me for the last several months – Nine is so very
not. He’s reckless, arrogant, selfish and just flat-out rude.
I picture Sam, back in the Mog cave, a gun rocking against
his shoulder as a dozen Mogadorian soldiers swarmed him.
I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t save him. I should have fought
harder, run faster. I should have ignored Nine and gone back
to Sam. He would have done that for me. The immense
amount of guilt I feel paralyzes me, until I finally fall asleep.
It’s dark. I’m no longer in a house in the mountains with Nine.
I no longer feel the painful effects of the blue force field. My
head is finally clear, although I don’t know where I am, or how
I got here. When I shout for help, I can’t hear my voice even
though I feel my lips moving. I shuffle ahead, hands out in
front of me. My palms suddenly start to glow with my Lumen.
The light is dim at first, but quickly grows into two powerful
beams.
‘John.’ A hoarse whisper says my name.
I whip my hands around to see where I am, but the light
reveals only empty darkness. I’m entering a vision. I angle my
palms towards the ground so my Lumen will light my way,
and start towards the voice. The hoarse whisper keeps
repeating my name over and over. It sounds young and full of
fear. Then comes another voice, gruff and staccato, barking
orders.
The voices become clearer. It’s Sam, my lost friend, and
Setrákus Ra, my worst enemy. I can tell I’m nearing the
Mogadorian base. I can see the blue force field, the source of
so much pain. For some reason, I know it won’t hurt me now,
and I don’t hesitate to pass through it. When I do, it’s not my
screams I hear, but Sam’s. His tortured voice fills my head as
I enter the mountain and move through its mazelike tunnels.
I see the charred remains of our recent battle, from when
I tossed a ball of green lava at the gas tanks at the mountain’s bottom, sending a sea of fire raging upwards. I move
through the main cavernous hall and its spiraling ledges. I
step onto the arched stone bridge Sam and I so recently
crossed under the cloak of invisibility. I keep going, passing
through tributaries and corridors, all while being forced to
listen to my best friend’s crippling howls.
I know where I’m going before I get there. The steady
incline of the floor lands me in the wide room lined with prison
cells.
There they are. Setrákus Ra is standing in the middle of
the room. He is huge and truly revolting looking. And there’s
Sam. He’s suspended inside a small spherical cage next
to him. His own, private torture bubble. Sam’s arms are
stretched high above his head and his legs are splayed, held
in place with chains. A series of pipes are dripping steaming
liquid onto various parts of Sam’s body. Blood has pooled and
dried under the cage.
I stop ten feet away from them. Setrákus Ra senses my
presence and turns around, the three Loric pendants from
other Garde children he has killed dangling from his massive
neck. The scar circling his throat pulses with a dark energy.
‘We missed each other,’ Setrákus Ra growls.
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Sam’s blue eyes
turn in my direction, but I can’t tell if he sees me.
More hot liquid drips from the pipes, hitting Sam in the
wrists, chest, knees and feet. A thick stream flows onto his
cheek and rolls down his neck. Seeing Sam tortured finally
gives me a voice.
‘Let him go!’ I shout.
Setrákus Ra’s eyes harden. The pendants around his neck
59 AMglow and mine responds, lighting up as well. The blue Loralite
gem is hot against my skin, and then it suddenly bursts into
flames, my Legacy taking over. I allow the fire to crawl along
my shoulders.
‘I’ll let him go,’ he says, ‘if you come back to the mountain,
and fight me.’
I glance quickly over at Sam and see that he has lost his
battle with the pain and has blacked out, chin resting on his
chest.
Setrákus Ra points to Sam’s withered body and says, ‘You
must decide. If you don’t come, I’ll kill him and then I’ll kill the
rest of them. If you do, I’ll let them all live.’
I hear a voice yelling my name, telling me I have to move.
Nine. I sit up with a gasp and my eyes snap open. I’m covered
in a thin layer of sweat. I stare through the jagged hole
of broken drywall and it takes me a few seconds to get my
bearings.
‘Dude! Get up!’ Nine yells from the other side of the door.
‘There’s a ton of stuff we need to do!’
I get to my knees and fumble around my neck for my
pendant. I squeeze it as hard as I can, trying to get Sam’s
screams out of my head. The bedroom door swings open.
Nine stands in the doorway, wiping his face with the back of
his hand. ‘Seriously, bro. Get your shit together. We need to
get out of here.’
