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‘What –’ Setrákus Ra takes an aggressive step towards the old man, and I’m loosed from his elbow. For the first time since I’ve been in his company, the Mogadorian leader actually looks surprised.
Surprised and furious.
A murmur of uncertainty passes through the crowd. The old man shouts something else – I hear the words ‘enslavement’ and ‘death,’ but otherwise I can’t really hear him. No one can. Setrákus Ra has used his telekinesis to crush the old man’s microphone.
‘You must be confused, my friend,’ Setrákus Ra says through gritted teeth, still trying to salvage this farce. ‘My intentions are pu –’
Setrákus Ra is suddenly knocked off balance. I know why. A telekinetic attack. I watch as his golden cane is ripped out of his hand. Nine plucks it out of the air as he hops on to the stage, grinning at Setrákus Ra.
I sense movement to my left. I turn my head to see John also hop on to the stage. They’re flanking him, just like we practised in the Lecture Hall. Peppered throughout the crowd, I see men and women in dark suits, all of them slyly pulling firearms into view. The crowd is beginning to buzz as some civilians – the smarter ones – begin to back away from the stage.
It’s a trap, I realize gleefully. The Garde are here!
Now, Setrákus Ra really looks surprised. And, dare I say, a little frightened.
‘You have been led astray!’ Setrákus Ra screams, pointing his now empty hands at Nine and John. ‘These boys are fugitives! Terrorists from my home world! I don’t know what they’ve told you –’
‘We haven’t told them anything,’ John says, interrupting. His voice doesn’t carry like Setrákus Ra’s, but people in the crowd crane their necks to listen. ‘We’ll let them make up their own minds. A genocidal maniac is easy to spot.’
‘Lies!’
Do it now! I urge Nine telepathically.
‘I wonder what will happen if I do this?’ Nine asks, fiddling with Setrákus Ra’s cane. Before Setrákus Ra can lunge in his direction, Nine raises the cane over his head and smashes it down on the stage. The obsidian eye in its center explodes in a cloud of ash.
Things happen quickly after that.
Setrákus Ra’s body begins to thrash and spasm. The handsome human form he’s been so attached to begins to slough off him, like a snake shedding its skin. The real Setrákus Ra – pale verging on bloodless, ancient and hideous, tattooed across his bald skull, a thick scar around his neck, clad in spiky Mogadorian armor – stands revealed on the stage.
Many in the crowd scream. Even more recoil in horror and turn to run. A gunshot goes off – I hear the bullet whistle past my ear before it ricochets harmlessly off the Mogadorian ship behind me. The gunshots only frighten people more and now it’s a full-blown stampede in front of the stage. More shots are fired, this time into the air. One of the agents taking aim on Setrákus Ra goes down, bull-rushed by the terrified spectators.
It’s chaos.
With a monstrous howl, Setrákus Ra grows to fifteen feet in size. The stage beneath us groans. The old man who was onstage with the Garde tries to run into the crowd, but Setrákus Ra grabs him with his telekinesis and hurls him like a missile into Nine. The two of them fall off the stage in a heap.
Fireballs come to life in John’s hands. They go out immediately as Setrákus Ra triggers his Dreynen field. That doesn’t stop John from charging in, pulling his Loric dagger out of his sheath as he comes.
‘Yes!’ Setrákus Ra screams, beckoning John in. ‘Come racing towards your death, boy!’
Unaffected by Setrákus Ra’s version of Dreynen, I pick up a broken piece of his cane. My fingers are clumsy and I nearly drop it twice before I’m able to grasp it tightly enough. I concentrate, ignore the shredding pain under my skin and charge the shrapnel with my Dreynen.
When the broken shard glows bright red, I jab it into the back of Setrákus Ra’s leg.
The Mogadorian overlord cries out and shrinks down to his normal size. I sense the Dreynen field canceling Legacies lift. Too late, Setrákus Ra stumbles forward in a futile attempt to get away from me. The Dreynen-charged cane is buried an inch deep in the back of his calf. When Setrákus Ra yanks it out, a trickle of night-black blood darkens his trouser leg. Now that it’s off him, I’m not sure how long the effects of my Dreynen will last.
Wait a second. He’s bleeding. The damage wasn’t transferred to me. Every charm has a weakness, that’s what Setrákus Ra said right before he burned the terrible thing into my ankle.
I can hurt him. I’m the only one who can hurt Setrákus Ra.
I barely have time to process this information before Setrákus Ra rounds on me, his eyes wide with outrage. He backhands me, hard, and I’m tossed into the air. The wind goes out of me when I hit the stage, my head swimming again. He must’ve known that even if I figured out the loophole with the Mogadorian charm, I wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him.
Setrákus Ra stands over me, his hideous features creased with fury. He reaches down, fingers grasping for my throat.
‘You treasonous little bi –!’
John barrels into him shoulder-first and knocks Setrákus Ra off his feet. Setrákus Ra lands hard on his side and I feel bruises puff up immediately on my own elbow. I accept the pain. There’s more to come.
I’m not strong enough t
o fight him, but I’ve done my part. I drained his Legacies.
Now, the others can do what has to be done.
John doesn’t let up. He pounces on Setrákus Ra, who tries to scramble away. The Mogadorian ruler doesn’t look so frightening now, trying to crab walk away from John. I’m happy to see him so pathetic and desperate. He should know how that feels before he dies.
Before we die.
John manages to straddle him. He raises his dagger above his head. I take a deep breath and brace myself.
‘This is for Lorien! And for Earth!’
I know what happens next. John will stab Setrákus Ra, and I’ll die. It will break the Mogadorian charm, and then the Garde will be able to kill Setrákus Ra for real. It’s worth it. I’ll gladly die if it means ending Setrákus Ra’s miserable life.
Do it! I scream at John telepathically. No matter what happens! Do it!
As John brings his dagger down, I hear a whooshing sound. Something is flying in this direction. Fast.
A bead of blood tickles my throat, a small cut opening up. That’s how close John’s blade comes before a chrome-plated cannonball flies through the air, knocks him off Setrákus Ra and sends him crashing through the stage.
Five. He’s alive and he just saved my life.
Saved my life and doomed us all.
Before I can react, the stage creaks and collapses. I slide down the tilted piece of wood and land hard on the pavement below. All around me, people are running and screaming.
Setrákus Ra lands next to me.
He reaches down and grabs me by the hair, yanking me viciously to my feet.
‘You’ll die for this embarrassment, child,’ he snarls, and begins dragging me over the wrecked stage towards his ship.
Nine stands in his way.
28
My shoulder is dislocated, that much I know for sure. I’m on my back with jagged pieces of the destroyed stage digging into me. I’m seeing double and it’s hard to breathe. I feel like I just got hit by a car.
Not a car. Five.
