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I push my toe into the dirt. Thanks to the shadows of the Sanctuary and the nearby plant growth, it’s soft and a little damp, not like the hard-packed and sunbaked dirt of the runway. All our Legacies, that stockpile of Mog weapons, a bunch of C-4—and now we’re talking about digging a hole. “Well, he’s exactly the kind of asshole who doesn’t watch where he’s going, especially if he’s sporting a major boner to get into the Sanctuary.”
“There’s an image,” Adam replies.
“Once he’s down there I can ice over the top from my hiding spot,” Marina says, getting on board. “That could slow him down further.”
“Well, at least it’ll be hilarious to watch him fall in a hole,” I add optimistically.
“It’ll have to be pretty big,” Adam says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “He can change sizes.”
“Good thing we’ve got Legacies to help with the digging,” I reply. “Even if it only buys us a few minutes, that might be enough to get us on board the Anubis.”
“One more thing, and you might not like this idea,” Adam says to Marina, before gesturing towards the Sanctuary’s door. “But maybe we should cave that in. It’ll be one more thing to get in Setrákus Ra’s way.”
It’s a good idea, but I look over at Marina before saying anything. She thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “They’re only stones,” she says. “What’s important is that we protect what’s inside.”
“Should I get some of the C-4?” Adam asks.
“I think I can handle it,” I reply, already tapping into my Legacy and channeling a small storm. The air gets heavy as I pull together a dark cloud above our heads, a small pattering of raindrops falling loose from it. With a downward motion of my hand, four bolts of lightning slice down at an angle Mother Nature couldn’t hope to duplicate. The strikes arc into the Sanctuary’s doorway and explode into the decrepit limestone, collapsing the passage in on itself with a burst of musty air.
I step up and take a look at my handiwork. The doorway is now filled with rubble, with some of the interior wall obviously collapsed as well. It won’t keep an army of Mogs out forever and Setrákus Ra will definitely be able to dislodge the rubble with his telekinesis. Still, it’s better than nothing.
Meanwhile, with a thoughtful look on her face, Marina takes measured steps around the entrance to the Sanctuary, keeping count. When she’s walked a near-perfect square in front of the entrance, Marina looks over at me.
“About thirty feet on each side, do you think?” she asks me. “For the pit?”
“I think that’d do it.”
“Let me try something,” Marina says, and then begins to concentrate.
She walks a thirty-foot line away from the Sanctuary’s entrance, her hands fanning the air as she goes. A wall of ice begins to take shape along Marina’s line, although its bottom edge doesn’t make contact with the ground.
“Help me hold it in place, would you?” Marina asks, glancing at me.
I’m not quite sure where this is going, but I play along. Using my telekinesis, I hold up Marina’s growing sheet of ice. I notice that the ice is thicker at the top and narrows to a lethally sharp edge at the bottom, almost like a guillotine blade. She walks the same lines as a second ago, this time generating ice as she goes. After a couple of minutes, Marina has created a hollow cube of ice, roughly thirty feet by thirty feet, with no top or bottom. The ice hovers above the ground, dripping water, and Marina has to continually use her Legacy to keep it from melting.
“What happens now?” Adam asks, looking on.
“We lift it up,” Marina says, referring to the two of us. “And then we slam it down with as much force as we can muster. Ready, Six?”
I do as instructed, using my telekinesis to levitate Marina’s ice sculpture about twenty feet above the ground.
“Ready?” she asks, looking at me. “Now!”
Together, we drive the ice into the ground. There’s a thudding sound as the sharpened edges drive into the dirt, followed by the sound of glass breaking as cracks form rapidly in the ice and begin to spread. All in all, the ice doesn’t get driven very far into the earth, about four feet at most. Marina seems pleased with the result, though.
“Okay, okay! Hold on a second!”
She races around the box of ice, its four walls now embedded in the ground, and begins to reinforce the walls, thickening and hardening the ice as she touches it. When the cracks in the ice are sealed up and the broken chunks filled in, Marina kneels down at one of the corners and puts her hands on the ice, as close to the ground as possible.
“All right, I’m not sure if this part will actually work,” she says. “Here goes.”
Marina closes her eyes and concentrates. Adam and I exchange a look, both of us pretty confused. Still, we stay quiet for what ends up being more than five minutes, watching Marina work her Legacy. I want to put my forehead on the cold ice, but I worry that might screw up whatever she’s doing.
“I think I got it,” Marina says at last, standing up and rolling her neck. “Six, let’s lift the ice back up.”
“Now you want it out of the ground?” I ask.
Marina nods excitedly. “Quick! Before it melts too much.”
So, we concentrate on the cube again. It feels much heavier this time and as we lift it, I realize why. Marina spread the ice under the ground, connecting the four walls of her cube. When we lift the ice, it comes up with a ripping and crunching sound, as the remaining roots of the grass are torn apart. The ice cube floats up on our telekinesis and, inside it, sits a four-foot deep cross section of the earth, perfectly maintained.
“Gently now,” Marina says, as we transport the ice and earth off to the side. “I got in there pretty deep, but it could still break apart.”
“Brilliant,” Adam says, grinning at the floating mound. “We won’t have to cover the hole with, like, really big branches. Once we’ve dug it the rest of the way, we can just lay that piece back on top. It’ll look normal when Setrákus Ra steps on it, but you should be able to cave it in from a distance with your telekinesis.”
Marina nods. “That was my thinking.”
We lower the immaculately shaped box of dirt and grass to the ground with a gentle thump. Without Marina constantly augmenting it with her Legacy, the ice soon begins to melt away. The edges of our pit’s lid get a little muddy, but that’ll dry quickly considering the heat.
Adam strides forwar
d, kneeling in front of the thirty-by-thirty hole in the ground.
“My turn,” he says.
He places his hands right into the dirt and a second later I can feel vibrations flowing out from him. The seismic ripples are focused primarily in front of him, but his control isn’t precise enough to keep them from fanning out. For a moment, I feel a little bit queasy as the ground shifts beneath my feet, but I’m able to quickly get a grip. The soil in front of Adam begins to loosen and shift, the packed-down layers beginning to break apart into sizable chunks.
Adam looks over his shoulder at me. “How’s that?”
I use my telekinesis to lift a crumbly section of dirt and stone up from the pit, then chuck it into the jungle. It’ll be easier to dig through now that Adam’s broken up the dirt, but it’s still going to be a pain in the ass. I give him an approving nod.
“It’s a start,” I tell him.
He stands up. “I’m going to go look for . . . a shovel.”
Adam can barely finish his thought, his eyes suddenly pinned to the sky behind me. I whip around, hearing the sound of an engine.
No. It can’t be. It’s too soon. We aren’t ready.
“Six?” Marina asks, her voice catching. “What is that?”
It’s a ship. Sleek and silver, without the hard angles and guns like the other crafts I’ve seen the Mogs flying. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, yet it’s also oddly familiar.
The ship’s coming in fast, and it’s headed right for us.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
“SCOUTS?” MARINA ASKS ME. I CAN FEEL HER ice Legacy kicking back on, in case we need to fight this new arrival.
“That’s not a Mog ship,” Adam says, stepping up beside me.
“No,” I reply, because I’ve already figured that out. I put my hand on Marina’s arm. “It’s okay. Don’t you . . . don’t you recognize it?”
“I . . .” Marina trails off as she takes a closer look at the incoming ship. The spaceship zips in over the trees and pivots effortlessly in the air, cutting its speed with a flourish over the recently cleared Mogadorian runway. Although it’s dented and scuffed, and even has a bit of rust on the edges, the ship still shines a glittering silver, its armored paneling made from materials not found on this world. It hovers for a moment, the sun glinting off the cockpit’s tinted windows, and then gently lands.
