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As I plummet towards the river below, I feel my Legacies snap back on. I must be far enough away from Setrákus Ra. Quickly, I push down with my telekinesis, doing everything I can to slow my fall.
I still hit the East River hard. It’s like getting slapped across my whole body. Dirty water floods my lungs and for a terrifying second I’m not sure which way is up, which way to swim. I manage to resurface, choking and spitting, and trying to swim against the current with only one arm. I end up doing an awkward backstroke, gasping for breath the entire way. I’m exhausted by the time I reach the bank, slightly downriver from the chaos at the UN, surrounded on all sides by trash and dead fish.
‘John! John! Are you all right?’
It’s Sam. He runs across the mud towards me. He must have seen me fall and followed me here. He skids into the muck next to me. I can only manage a groan by way of greeting. I think some of my ribs are broken.
‘Can you move?’ Sam asks, gingerly touching my screwed-up shoulder.
I nod. With Sam’s help, I make it back to my feet. I’m soaked, bruised, broken in places, with three long cuts across my face. I’m not sure what to heal first.
‘Where’s Nine?’ I manage to ask.
‘I lost him in the chaos,’ Sam replies, his voice breaking. ‘He and Five were killing each other. Walker and her people are trying to evacuate civilians. It’s crazy up there. John, what do we do?’
I start to open my mouth, hoping a plan will come to me if I just start talking, but a nearby explosion cuts me off. The impact is powerful enough that my teeth click together.
I look up at the sky just in time to see the Mogadorian warship open fire on New York.
29
Eight’s eyes, brightly glowing embers of pure Loralite, assess each one of us in turn. They linger for a particularly long time on Adam – long enough to make our Mogadorian ally take a nervous step backwards. Like Marina, I’m rooted in place, staring at our friend brought back to some kind of life. Eight floats over the Sanctuary’s well in a column of unleashed energy. No, he doesn’t just float in the energy. The energy is a part of him.
Or it. I’m pretty sure that’s not our sarcastic, goofy friend floating up there. Whatever it is, I feel a strange kinship with the entity, almost like the same energy now reanimating Eight is flowing through me, too. It’s the same electric rush I get when I use my Legacies. Maybe I’m looking at the essence of what makes me Loric, what makes me Garde.
Maybe I’m looking at Lorien itself.
‘Two Loric and a Mogadorian,’ the entity says at last, its appraisal of us complete. Its voice is nothing like Eight’s used to be – it’s like a hundred voices speaking at once, all of them perfectly in tune. The flashing pools of energy where Eight’s eyes used to be linger on Adam again and the entity’s lips purse in curiosity. ‘Except not quite. You are something different. Something new.’
‘Uh, thank you?’ Adam replies, and takes another step backwards.
Marina clears her throat and steps closer to the well. There are tears in her eyes. Her hands extend out in front of her, like she wants to grab at the entity’s hand and make sure he’s real.
‘Eight? Is that you?’ Her voice is hard to hear over the rhythmic pulsing beneath the well.
The entity turns his gaze on Marina and frowns. ‘No. I am sorry, daughter. Your friend is gone.’
Marina’s shoulders heave with disappointment. The thing in Eight’s body reaches out to comfort her, but energy crackles between them and it ends up pulling back.
‘He is with me now,’ the entity says, soothingly. ‘He does me a great service, letting me speak through him. It has been a long time since I had a voice.’
‘Are you Lorien?’ I ask, at last finding my own voice. ‘Are you, like, the planet?’
The entity seems to consider my question. Through the thin fabric of Eight’s shirt, I can see his wound light up. It glows cobalt blue like the rest of him, his entire body filled up with the energy. It’s seeping out of him.
‘I was called that once, yes,’ the entity says, and waves its hand at the glowing carvings on the walls. ‘In other places, I was called other things. And now, on this planet, I will be called something new.’
‘You’re a god,’ Marina breathes.
‘No. I simply am.’
I shake my head. God or not, we need this thing’s help. We don’t have time for riddles. I’m suddenly really, really tired of cave drawings and prophecies and glowing people.
‘Do you know what’s happening?’ I ask Eight – Lorien – whatever it is. ‘The Mogadorians are invading.’
The entity’s eyes turn once again to Adam. ‘Not all of them, I see.’
Adam looks uncomfortable. The entity quickly turns away. It stares up at the ceiling and it’s as if those crackling eyes can see outside of the temple. Like it can see everything.
‘Yes. They are coming,’ the entity says, his echoing voice apparently bemused by the impending Mogadorian invasion. ‘Their leader has chased me for a very long time. Your Elders foresaw the fall of Lorien and chose to protect me. They hid me here in hopes that it would delay him.’
‘It didn’t go so hot,’ I reply. Marina elbows me.
The entity’s eyes slowly turn to the ceiling again. For a moment, a deep sadness passes across its face.
‘So many of my children gone forever,’ the entity muses. ‘I suppose you would be the Loric Elders now, if such a thing still exists.’
‘We’re Garde,’ I say, correcting this billion-year-old godlike energy force, because what the hell, we’ve come this far. ‘We’re here for your help.’
The entity actually chuckles. ‘It does not matter to me, daughter. Elders, Garde, Cêpan – these words are how the Loric chose to understand my gifts. It does not have to be that way here. It does not have to be any way.’ The entity pauses thoughtfully. ‘As for help, I do not know what I can offer, child.’
More confusion, more riddles. I didn’t think coming to the Sanctuary would go like Nine had joked – that we’d unleash some massive power that would wipe out all the Mogadorians. But I expected to find something that could help. Our friends could be dying right now in the first wave of a Mogadorian invasion, and I’m down here making small talk with an annoyingly mysterious immortal.
‘That’s not good enough,’ I say.
Frustrated, I take a step towards the entity. Energy crackles around me and I feel my hair stand up from static.
‘Six,’ Adam whispers, ‘be careful.’
I ignore him, raising my voice to yell at the all-powerful Lorien. ‘We’ve come far to awaken you! We’ve lost friends! You have to be able to do something. Or are you cool if Setrákus Ra just marches down here and destroys this planet?
Kills everyone on it? You’re going to let that happen twice on your watch?’
The entity’s brow furrows. A crack opens in the skin on Eight’s forehead, and energy begins to spill forth. Marina covers her mouth but manages not to cry out. It’s like Eight’s body is hollow inside and the energy is gradually breaking it down.
‘I am sorry, daughter,’ Eight says to Marina. ‘This form cannot hold me for long.’
Then, the entity turns back to me. There’s no sign that my words have offended it, or had any effect at all. Its voice is as melodic and patient as ever.
‘I do not condone the senseless destruction of life,’ the entity explains. ‘But I do not choose fates. I do not judge. If it is the will of the universe that I cease to be, then I will cease. I exist merely to bestow my gifts upon those who are open to them.’
I spread my arms. ‘I’m open to them. Load me up. Give me enough Legacies to destroy Setrákus Ra and his fleet and I’ll leave your glowing ass alone.’
The entity smiles at me. More cracks form along the backs of Eight’s hands. The energy is escaping.
‘It does not work that way,’ it intones.
‘Then how the hell does it work?’ I shout. ‘Tell us what to do!’
‘There is nothing left to do, daughter. You have woken me and restored my strength. I am of the Earth now, and so are my gifts.’
‘But how will that help us win?’ I yell. ‘What was all this shit for?’
The entity ignores me. I guess that’s all the wisdom it’s willing to impart. Instead, it gazes upon Marina.
‘He won’t have long, daughter.’
‘Who won’t?’ she replies, puzzled.
Without another word, the entity’s eyes close and Eight’s body begins to tremble. To my surprise, the energy actually recedes from his body. The cracks along the backs of his hands stop glowing and close up, as does the one that opened across his forehead. After a few seconds, the only thing left glowing on Eight is the wound over his heart. He floats out of the column of energy and ends up right in front of Marina.
When Eight opens his eyes, they don’t glow. They’re green, just like I remember them, serene, but with a spark of that old mischief. Eight’s lips curl into a slow smile as he sees Marina.
