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“What . . . what did you see?”
“Lots of things,” Ella says, calming down. She gets a distant look in her eyes as she tries to explain what seeing the future is like. “The visions start out as blurry possibilities. There are millions of them, I think. Some of them are more solid than others—those are the ones I can see. The ones that seem . . . I dunno. Likely? But even that’s not a guarantee. You remember that future we saw in Chicago. It felt real, impossible to escape, clear as day. It’s gone completely now. The future has changed too much. And it keeps changing.”
My head hurts. I feel half crazy just listening to Ella. We need a Cêpan, someone who could help her get control of these mental Legacies before they drive her insane. At least we’ve avoided the bleak future I witnessed. But what did we trade it for?
“Ella, did you see yourself die?”
She hesitates, and a knot of dread tightens in my stomach.
“Yes,” she says. Her body shakes and I realize it’s from holding in a sob. I crouch down in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders.
“It won’t happen,” I insist, my voice as firm as I can make it. “We’ll change the future.”
“But we win, John.”
Ella grabs my hands. Tears stream freely down her cheeks. I realize something, the way she’s looking at me, the way she’s squeezing my hands. Ella’s not feeling sorry for herself.
She’s feeling sorry for me.
“It’s going to hurt you so much, John,” she says, her voice cracking. “You have to be strong.”
“It’s me?” I don’t believe it. “Am I the one that—?”
I can’t even finish the question. I yank my hands away from Ella. I’d never hurt her, not even if it meant ending this war.
“There has to be another way,” I say. “Use your Legacy and find us a better future.”
Ella shakes her head. “You don’t understand—”
In the blink of an eye, Ella is changed. She looks like the girl stretched out on the operating table, black ooze worming its way beneath her skin. She struggles to focus on me. The docking bay around us gets weirdly hazy and starts melting away.
“Ella? What’s happening?”
“The Anubis is moving out of range,” she says, narrowing her eyes, trying to strengthen our telepathic connection. “I’m going to lose you. Quick! There’s one more thing you have to see!”
Ella snatches my hand and then we’re running towards the docking bay entrance. We step through it and—
Dirt crunches beneath my feet. Hot sun beams down on the back of my neck, the air sticky and humid. It’s disorienting to be suddenly transported from the sterile gloom of the Anubis into the heat of the jungle, vivid green on all sides, tropical birds loudly chirping. I’m standing on what looks to be an airstrip carved into the jungle. The black-armored hulls of a handful of Mogadorian Skimmers reflect the bright afternoon sun.
My eyes are drawn to the limestone pyramid that stands a few yards away from the airstrip, all the Mog gear seemingly positioned at a safe distance from the ancient structure. I instinctually recognize the temple, even though I’ve never actually seen it before. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it feels as if something buried within the centuries-old Mayan architecture is calling out to me. I feel safe here.
“This is the Sanctuary,” I say, my voice quiet and reverent.
“Yeah,” Ella says, and I notice that she’s also admiring the temple.
“Six, Marina and Adam . . .” I pause, realizing that Ella’s never met our Mogadorian ally. “Adam is a—”
“I know who he is,” Ella says, her tone giving nothing away. “We meet soon.”
“Okay, well, they were just here,” I continue, looking around for signs of our friends. “They’re probably headed back by now. Are you going to show me what they did to give the humans Legacies?”
“This isn’t the past or present, John. We’re in the future. One that I can see very, very clearly.”
I should’ve known that since the sun is out. I turn to face Ella, sensing that she hasn’t brought me here to deliver good news.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Because of that.”
Ella points into the sky to the north of the Sanctuary. There, like a storm cloud rolling across the otherwise blue and cloudless sky, is the Anubis, slowly floating towards the temple. My legs jerk, reflexes still keyed to run for cover after I narrowly survived the bombardment in New York. I force myself to stay put and watch the warship approach.
“When?” I ask Ella. “When does this happen?”
Before Ella can answer, her form contorts, again turning pale and black-veined. The scenery flashes, the jungle suddenly overlapping with the Anubis operating room and also with what looks to be the inside of a subway car—all three places existing simultaneously, like three transparent pictures laid on top of one another. For a second, it’s impossible for me to focus on any particular detail, everything blending to the point where I feel unmoored from reality. But then Ella cries out, either from frustration or pain or both, and the jungle and the Sanctuary solidify once again.
“You’re pushing yourself,” I say, watching as dark circles form around her eyes. “We’re getting too far apart.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she replies hurriedly. “Doesn’t matter. This is where we’re going now, John. The Anubis is leaving for the Sanctuary right this second.”
“So Setrákus Ra will get there . . .”
“He’ll get there at sunset,” Ella says. “He stops in West Virginia to gather reinforcements after leaving so many warriors behind in New York, and then . . .”
Ella waves towards the Anubis. It’s closer now, the warship’s long shadow falling across the stones of the Sanctuary.
“What does he want?”
“He wants what’s inside!” Ella shouts. And yet, even though her voice is raised, she’s beginning to sound farther away. “I think it’s what he always wanted! They opened the door to the Sanctuary! It isn’t protected anymore!”
“What do—?”
She cuts me off, grabbing my arm. “John, listen! Six, the others, you have to warn them! Tell them—”
Ella’s hands pass through me. I see it all again—the Sanctuary and the Anubis, Ella squirming on the operating table, the darkened subway car—and then all the colors blend together, nothing solid to grab on to. Ella screams something at me, but she’s too far away. The words don’t reach me.
Then, darkness.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
I SNAP AWAKE ON A HARD PLASTIC BENCH, MY legs dangling off the end. I know I’m back in my body, no longer in Ella’s dreamworld because of the intense ache that immediately soaks through my every muscle. I’m on my side, facing the orange and yellow seatbacks of the subway bench. I’ve never been on one of these cars before, but I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to recognize them immediately. On the wall above my head is a poster reading IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING.
With a groan, I prop myself up on an elbow. Sam is slumped on the two-seater adjacent to my bench with his head propped against the window, snoring gently. Outside the window, I can see only darkness. This train is stalled underground somewhere, inside the tunnel. The passengers must have abandoned it early on during the attack. The train car is dead, unmoving and powerless, the panels of overhead lights completely dark.
And yet, there’s light coming from somewhere.
I sit up and look around, immediately spotting a row of cell phones spread throughout the train’s main aisle. With their flashlight apps turned on, the phones function like battery-powered candles. On the bench opposite from me, awake and watching, sits Daniela. Her feet are propped up on the duffel bag she carried out of that bank, the thing presumably filled with stolen money.
“You’re alive,” she says, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Sam. I do the same, even though Sam’s snoring like he could sleep through another Anubis bombing.
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