Home > The Power of Six (Lorien Legacies #2)(36)

The Power of Six (Lorien Legacies #2)(36)
Author: Pittacus Lore

Six shakes her head. “Don’t take offense at what I’m about to say, okay? But Katarina never told me that. In fact, she told me stories about multiple loves she had on Lorien over the years. I’m sure Henri was a great man, and there’s no doubt that he loved you with everything he had; but it sounds like he was a romantic and wanted you to follow in his footsteps. If he had one true love, then he wanted you to have one, too.”

I’m silent, taking in her theory and pushing Henri’s to the side.

She can tell I’m struggling with her words. “What I’m saying is, when the Loric fall in love, a lot of times it is for life. Obviously, it was for Henri. But not always.”

And with that last sentence, Six steps towards me and I step towards her. The kiss that eluded us at the end of our walk in Florida now connects us with a passion I thought I’d reserved for Sarah and Sarah alone. I never want this kiss to end, but Sam turns on the engine and we separate.

“Sam likes you, too, you know,” I say.

“And I like Sam.”

I c*ck my head. “But you just said you like me.”

She pushes me on my shoulder. “You like me and Sarah. I like you and Sam. Deal with it.”

She turns invisible, but I can sense she’s still in front of me.

“Please be careful over there, Six. I wish we could all stay together.”

Her voice comes out of the air. “Me, too, John; but whoever is in Spain needs help. Can’t you feel it?”

I can tell she’s already gone by the time I say, “Yes.”

I try to move, but I’m rooted in place. A glint of light in Adelina’s hand catches my gaze, and I realize that what she removed from her dress was a kitchen knife. She runs towards the Mogadorian, and I start running down a pew the other way. With precision I’ve never seen before from her, she drops to the ground as the Mogadorian leaps and swings his sword for her throat. He misses her entirely, and as she comes back up she catches him flush with the knife’s blade across his right thigh. Dark blood spurts out, but it does little to slow the Mogadorian; he turns and brings the sword back down. Adelina rolls forward, and it’s with nothing short of awe that I watch her pass the knife across the Mogadorian’s other leg as the momentum pushes her to her feet. How can I leave Adelina to fight alone?

I stop running, clench my hands into fists, but before I can do anything the man’s left hand is wrapped around Adelina’s throat, lifting her off the ground. His right hand drives the sword through her heart.

“No!” I yell, jumping on top of the pew’s bench, rushing down the wood towards them.

Adelina’s eyes shut, and with her very last breath, she thrusts her arm up and the knife’s blade cuts an arc in the air in front of her. It falls from her hand and clatters to the floor. For a second I think she’s missed, but I’m wrong. The cut was made so cleanly that a full two seconds pass before the dark blood spills out. He drops Adelina and falls to his knees, both hands clutched to the front of his throat to stop the bleeding, but the blood simply cascades through his fingers. I walk towards him and take a deep breath. I raise my hand and lift Adelina’s knife from off the floor. I let it hover for a brief moment, and just as his eyes widen at the sight of it, I plunge it into his chest. He disintegrates before my eyes, his body turning to ash and spreading across the floor.

I drop to my knees and take Adelina’s lifeless body into my arms, cupping the back of her head and pulling her to me. Our cheeks touch and I begin to cry. She’s gone, and regardless of my recently discovered Legacy, I know there isn’t anything I can do to bring her back. I need help.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A GROWL COMES FROM MY LEFT, AND I LIFT MY head to see another man in a trench coat with long brown hair. I rush to my feet as the Mogadorian lifts his hand. A flash of light comes from it and hits me hard in the left shoulder, sending me flying backwards. The pain is instant and blinding. It runs down my arm, white-hot as though electricity has hit the bone and travels through it. My left hand feels dead, and with my right I reach up and touch the new gash on my shoulder. I lift my head and look up hopelessly at the Mogadorian.

The charm, I think. Adelina told me when we traveled that I couldn’t be killed unless it was in the order set by the Elders. This wound could be bad enough to kill me. I look down at my ankle to see if there are six scars instead of the three I’ve been living with for the last several months, but nothing has changed. Then how can I be killed? How can I be hurt this badly . . . unless the charm has been broken.

My eyes meet the Mogadorian’s, and he bursts into a heap of ash. For a crazy moment I think the intensity of my own thoughts is what killed him, but then I see that standing just behind him is the Mogadorian from the café. The one with the book, the one I’ve been running from. I don’t understand. Does their selfishness run so deep that they’ll kill one another to be the one who kills me?

“Marina,” he says.

“I, I can kill you,” I say in a shaky voice full of sorrow. The blood continues flowing from my shoulder and runs down my arm. I look over at Adelina’s body and start to cry.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he says, jogging over to me and reaching out his hand. “Time is extremely short,” he says. “I’m one of you, and I’m here to help.”

I take his hand. What other choice do I have? He pulls me up, and from the nave before any others arrive. He leads me down the northern hallway and to the second floor, heading towards the belfry tower. My shoulder screams in pain with each step.

“Who are you?” I ask. A hundred different questions race through my head. If he’s one of us, then why did it take him so long to tell me? Why torture me into believing he was one of them? Can I even trust him?

“Shhh,” he whispers. “Keep quiet.”

The musty hallway is silent, and as it narrows, I hear dozens of heavy footsteps on the floor below us. Finally, we reach the oak door. It opens just a crack, and a girl’s head sticks out. I gasp. Auburn hair, curious brown eyes, small features. She’s older by years, but there’s no mistaking that it’s her.

“Ella?” I ask.

She looks eleven years old, maybe twelve. Her face, which brightens at the sight of mine, is more slender now. Ella pulls the door open so we can enter.

“Hi, Marina,” she says in a voice I don’t recognize.

The man pulls me in, shutting the door. He wedges a thick wooden board between the door and the bottom stair, and the three of us rush up the circular stone steps. When we get to the belfry, I take another look at Ella. All I can do is stare at her, wide-eyed and confused, no longer feeling the blood rolling down my arm, dripping from my fingertips.

“Marina, my name is Crayton,” the man says. “I’m sorry about your Cêpan. I wish I had gotten there sooner.”

“Adelina’s dead?” the older version of Ella asks.

“I don’t understand,” I say, still staring at Ella.

“We’ll explain it all to you, I promise. There isn’t much time. You’re losing a lot of blood,” Crayton says. “You can heal people, correct? Can you heal yourself?”

With all the confusion and running, I hadn’t considered healing myself, but when I place the palm of my right hand over the gaping wound, I try it. The iciness tickles as the gash closes itself and the dead numbness is pushed from my hand and arm. After thirty seconds, I’m as good as new.

“Please be more careful with this,” Crayton says. “It’s far more vital than you know.”

I look to where he’s pointing. “My Chest!”

There’s an explosion nearby. The tower sways, and dust and rocks drop from the ceiling and walls. More rocks fall as another blast takes me off my feet. I use my telekinesis to stop their descent, and I fling them out the window.

“They’re searching for us, and it’s not going to take long until they realize where we are,” he says. He looks at Ella, and then at me. “She’s one of you. A member of the Garde from Lorien.”

“But she’s not old enough,” I say, shaking my head, unable to replace the younger version I’ve come to know with this older one. “I don’t get it.”

“Do you know what an Aeternus is?”

I shake my head.

“Show her, Ella.”

While standing in front of me, Ella begins to change. Her arms shorten and her shoulders narrow; she loses twenty centimeters of height, and her weight drops significantly. The shrinking of her face shocks me the most, and quickly she looks like the tiny girl I’ve come to love.

“She’s an Aeternus,” Crayton says. “She’s able to move back and forth between different ages.”

“I—I didn’t know that was possible,” I stutter.

“Ella’s eleven years old,” he says. “She came with me on a second ship from Lorien that left after yours. She was just a baby, only hours old. Loridas, the last remaining Elder, sacrificed himself so that Ella could assume his role and grow into his powers.”

As I’m looking at Crayton, Ella slips her hand into mine as she’s done so many times before; but it feels different now. I glance over and see that she’s returned to the older, taller version of herself. Recognizing my discomfort, Ella shrinks back down, the four years quickly melting away until she’s seven again.

“She’s the tenth child,” he says. “The tenth Elder. We created a rumor about her backstory, her parents dying in a car accident, and we sent her here to live with you to watch over you and be the eyes I needed.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth, Marina,” she says in her soft voice. “But I’m the best secret-keeper in the whole world, just like you said.”

“I know you are,” I say.

“I was just waiting for Adelina to give you your Chest,” she says, smiling.

“Do you know who the tenth Elder was?” Crayton asks. “Changing his age is how Loridas was able to live as long as he did, even after the other Elders had passed away. Each time he grew old, he made himself young again, and assumed the vitality that comes with it.”

“Are you Ella’s Cêpan?”

“Only in the surrogate sense of the word. Since she was just born, she hadn’t been assigned a Cêpan yet.”

“I thought you were a Mogadorian,” I say.

“I know, but only because you misinterpreted the clues. This morning when I was talking to Héctor, I was trying to show you I was a friend.”

“But why didn’t you just come and get me when you arrived? Why send Ella in?”

“I tried approaching Adelina first, but she cast me out the second she knew who I was, and we needed you to have your Chest. I couldn’t pull you away without it,” he says. “So I sent Ella in, and she started looking for it even before you asked her to. The Mogadorians have known your general location for a good while now, and I’ve done my best to keep them off your trail. Killing some, well, killing most, but also planting stories in villages hundreds of miles away, about kids doing amazing things, like about a boy who lifted a car above his head and a girl who could walk across a lake. It was working until they discovered you were in Santa Teresa; but even then, they still didn’t know which one you were. Then Ella found the Chest and you opened it, and that’s when I came here, to talk to you in private. When you opened the Chest, it led the Mogadorians right here.”

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