maybe you’re wrong. We’ll never know since you went and destroyed the planet.’
‘What did I destroy, exactly? A planet, perhaps. But not Lorien itself.’ Setrákus Ra toys with one of
the pendants dangling from his neck. ‘It is more complicated than you know, my dear. Soon, your
mind will open and you will understand. Until then –’ He reaches over to the cart, plucks up a
Mogadorian wrench and tosses it to me, ‘we practise.’
I snag the wrench out of the air and hold it in front of me. Setrákus Ra turns his attention to Five,
still standing there silently, waiting to be dismissed.
‘Fly,’ Setrákus Ra orders.
Five looks up, confused. ‘What?’
‘Fly,’ Setrákus Ra repeats, waving to the high ceiling of the docking bay. ‘As high as you can.’
Five grunts and slowly levitates until he’s about forty feet in the air, his head nearly brushing the
rafters of the docking bay. ‘Now what?’ he asks.
Instead of replying, Setrákus Ra turns to me. I’ve already got an idea what he wants me to do. My
palm is sweating against the cold metal of the wrench. He kneels down beside me and lowers his
voice.
‘I want you to do what you did at the Dulce Base,’ Setrákus Ra says.
‘I told you, I don’t know how I did that,’ I protest.
‘I know you are afraid. Afraid of me, of your destiny, of this place you find yourself,’ Setrákus Ra
says patiently, and for a terrifying moment his voice sounds almost like Crayton. ‘But for you, that
fear is a weapon. Close your eyes and let it flow through you. Your Dreynen will follow. It is a
hungry thing, this Legacy that lives within you, and it will feed on what you fear.’
I squeeze my eyes shut. Part of me wants to resist this lesson, my skin crawling at the sound of
Setrákus Ra’s voice. But another part of me wants to learn to use my Legacy, no matter the cost. It
doesn’t seem so unnatural – there’s an energy inside me that wants to get out. My Dreynen wants to be used.
When I open my eyes, the wrench glows with red energy. I’ve done it. Just like at Dulce Base.
‘Very good, Ella. You can use the Dreynen by touch or, as you have just accomplished, charge
objects with it for long-range attacks,’ Setrákus Ra explains. He takes a quick step back when I thrust the wrench towards him. ‘Easy now, my dear.’
I stare at Setrákus Ra, unblinking, holding the wrench like I might hold a torch if I was trying to
scare off a wild animal. I wonder if I could hit him with it, drain his Legacies and then bash his head in. Would Five try to stop me? Would I even be able to pull it off? I’m not yet sure of the full extent of Setrákus Ra’s Legacies, or what other tricks he might have up his sleeve, or what might happen with
the charm that now binds us together. But maybe it would be worth it.
A slow smile spreads across Setrákus Ra’s face, as if he can tell I’m making these mental
calculations and he appreciates them.
‘Go on,’ he says, and his eyes flick towards the ceiling. ‘You know what to do next. He failed me.
And he killed your friend, didn’t he?’
I know that I should resist, that I shouldn’t do anything Setrákus Ra wants me to do. But the wrench,
charged with my Dreynen, feels almost eager in my hand, like it’s hungry and needs release. And then
I think of Eight, dead somewhere down on Earth, killed by the chubby boy currently in a midair sulk
right above me, who my grandfather apparently has designs about marrying me off to.
I turn around and hurl the wrench at Five.
I’m not sure my throw has the accuracy or the distance, so I give it a boost with my telekinesis.
Five must see it coming, but he doesn’t try to move out of the way. That’s what makes me start to
regret my decision – his resignation and willingness to receive this punishment.
The wrench hits Five right in the sternum but without much force. Even so, it sticks to his chest like it’s magnetized. He sucks in a sharp breath, his bored look failing him as he claws at the wrench. That only lasts for a second, though, until the glow briefly intensifies and Five plummets out of the air.
Five’s landing is ugly; his legs crumple beneath him, his hands fail to brace the impact and his
shoulder cracks against the floor. He ends up lying on his face, breathing hard. He tries to pick
himself up, but his arm isn’t quite working right, and he only manages to push himself an inch off the floor before sagging back down. The wrench falls from his chest, the damage done, his Legacies
canceled. Setrákus Ra pats me approvingly on the back. That’s when I really start to feel some guilt,
seeing Five like that, even knowing what he did to Eight. It occurs to me that maybe he’s just as much a prisoner as I am.
‘Get yourself to the infirmary,’ Setrákus Ra orders Five. ‘I do not care what you do about your eye,
but I need you able-bodied when we descend to Earth.’
‘Yes, Beloved Leader,’ Five croaks, straining his neck to look up at us.
‘That was well done,’ Setrákus Ra says to me as he shepherds me towards the exit. ‘Come. We
will return to your studies of the Great Book.’
Even though I’m still furious about what he did to Eight, as we pass Five’s prone body, I reach out
to him telepathically. I refuse to lose my sense of right and wrong while I’m stuck here.
I’m sorry, I tell him.
I don’t think he’ll answer, considering how he could barely even look at me before. Just as I’m
about to cut off our telepathic link, his response comes.
I’m fine, he replies. I deserved it.
You deserve worse than that, I reply, although I can’t quite manage the malice I want. It’s hard while I’m mentally picturing Eight, laughing, joking around with me and Marina.
I know, Five responds. I didn’t– I’m sorry, Ella.
I pick up something else from his mind. That’s never happened before – maybe my Legacy is
getting stronger. I don’t think too much about it, because through my mind’s eye I’m seeing Eight’s
body, left behind on purpose in an empty hangar. I try to make sense of the image, but Five’s thoughts are a confused jumble. There are so many conflicting impulses in his brain, and I’m not a skilled
enough telepath to make sense of them all.
I’ve already walked past him, but after our telepathic conversation, I hazard a glance over my
shoulder. Five has managed to prop himself up. He works a metal ball bearing across his knuckles,
over and under, waiting for his Legacies to return. He looks right at me.
We have to get out of here, he thinks.
1 7
Ashwood Estates is quiet just before sunrise, a light fog greeting the gray day. I could hardly sleep, which isn’t exactly a new development. I sit next to the living-room window in Adam’s old house and
take cell-phone photographs of the documents Agent Walker turned over, sending them on to Sarah.
We’re going to leak them online via They Walk Among Us, because at least that way we can ensure
the information gets out there. Walker has a list of journalists and other media people who she
believes to be trustworthy, but she’s got a list the same length of reporters in the pocket of MogPro.
There’s no surefire way to get this intel out there except on our own. It’s going to be an uphill battle.
In the years we’ve spent on the run, the Mogadorians have gotten too far ahead, become too
entrenched in the military, government and even the media. The smartest thing they ever did was
chase us into hiding.
According to Walker, it’s going to take something big to turn the tide. She wants us to cut the head