[Lorien Legacies 03.0] The Rise of Nine Read online

  A dozen stones flip in front of me, and then fifty on both sides. The largest, best-equipped Mog soldiers I’ve ever seen surround me. I create a small ring of fire around myself and move backwards, the fire maintaining its perimeter until I’m against the wall of the arena. The fire burns between the Mogs and me. Somehow, though, I don’t think my position is particularly secure.

  I widen the ring of fire around me until it hits a row of soldiers. They catch fire, but don’t turn to ash. In fact, they walk right through the fire with their weapons up. I throw dozens of fireballs, but this time they have no effect. Something red zips in the air over my head, and I watch it puncture the chest of a Mog soldier who continues to march forward. I recognize the item. It’s Nine’s staff. Nine drops out of the empty bleachers to the spot right next to me. Even in the middle of an attack, I feel relieved to see him. I immediately feel safer, more confident that even these fire-resistant Mogs will be defeated now that it is the two of us.

  ‘Nice of you to join me!’ I yell.

  He stands right next to me but doesn’t seem to hear my voice. ‘Hey, Nine!’ I try again, but he doesn’t still react. He just keeps staring at the advancing Mogs.

  When the soldiers are only a few feet away from us, the ground below our feet starts to tremble and quake. I try and hold on to the wall, but I can’t keep my balance. Next thing I know, a tremendous boom shakes the opposite end of the arena and pieces of black rock rain down on us. Nine dodges a large boulder that slams into the wall behind me, leaving a giant hole that leads to the outside. Looking through, I can see blue skies.

  From the swirling dust and flying debris a large stage rises out of the explosion. There, in the middle, is Setrákus Ra. Like an evil rock star, I can’t help but think. The purple scar around his neck burns brightly above the three blue pendants on his chest. To my horror, the moment he appears, my fire goes out. I try to illuminate my legs with my Lumen, but my palms suddenly won’t light. Setrákus Ra slams the end of his golden staff with the moving eye onto the ground and roars for silence. The soldiers in front of me snap to attention, turning from me and Nine to him. One by one, they rest their weapons at their sides.

  ‘All of you have been chosen to end this fight!’ Setrákus Ra yells. ‘You will go forth and you will destroy the Loric children. When they are dead, you will bring me their pendants and their Chests. You will crush their human friends. You will not fail me!’

  The Mog soldiers cheer and raise their fists in unison.

  Setrákus Ra slams his staff down on the stone floor with another thundering bang. ‘Mogadore will rule this galaxy! Everything, on every planet, will be ours!’ The soldiers cheer and wave their weapons in the air.

  ‘Together, we will fight. I will fight with you. Together, we will win this battle and annihilate all who live on Earth!’

  I try again to light my Lumen but it still doesn’t work. Then I try to lift a large sharp stone at my feet with my mind to launch at Setrákus Ra. It doesn’t budge. My bracelet shield has retracted and shows no sign of kicking into action. My Legacies – and my Inheritance – have left me.

  The soldiers have turned back around and once again aim their weapons at us. Without our Legacies, we’re sitting ducks. We have to get out of here.

  ‘Nine! This way!’ I yell.

  Finally, this seems to get through to him. He whips his head around and looks at me. We move towards the hole in the wall. Standing in a ray of cold sunlight at the lip of it, I peer down into a valley, thousands of feet below. I look over my shoulder; there are Mog soldiers charging at us.

  ‘We’ll walk on the side of the mountain,’ Nine says. ‘Here. Take my hand.’

  I grab his hand. We’ve only taken a single step down the side of the snowy mountaintop when we realize Nine’s Legacy has failed him too. Instead of feeling the mountain beneath my feet, there is only air. We’re falling. I look over at a shocked Nine, his long black hair whipping all around his face. Below us, two dark doorways are approaching fast. I prepare myself for a painful impact, my stomach doing backflips as I fly through the air. To my utter amazement, I go headfirst through the door on the left and I keep falling until I find myself in a dark tunnel alive with booms of thunder, cracks of lightning. The whispering starts again, and as the tunnel turns to green to blue and back to black, the hoarse voice I heard when the vision began speaks again: ‘New Mexico.’

  My eyes snap open and I sit up, my face damp with sweat. I rip off the sheets that cling to me. New Mexico. I leap up and charge down the hall towards Nine’s room, determined to convince him once and for all. If I have to fight him again, so be it. I will keep fighting until I win.

  I stop in front of Nine’s door and turn on my Lumen, needing to confirm that my Legacies really haven’t abandoned me. I knock and push the door open. I’m surprised to find Nine sitting up in bed with his head in his hands.

  ‘Nine,’ I say, flipping on the light. ‘I’m sorry, I know a deal’s a deal and you did beat me. But we have to go to –’

  ‘New Mexico. I know, Johnny. I know.’ He shakes his head. I’m not sure if he’s trying to wake up or come to grips with his sudden reversal. Probably both. ‘Just let me wake up a bit.’

  ‘So, you’ve reconsidered?’

  He plants his feet on the floor, one at a time. ‘No, I haven’t reconsidered. But when you’re falling to your death off a mountain because your Legacies don’t work and some ghost keeps repeating “New Mexico,” you take the hint.’

  ‘You had the same vision?’ I ask. The comfort I felt when I saw Nine – it was because he was really there. It dawns on me that Nine and I have a connection and I should give him more respect than I have been. I have to stop seeing him as an adversary. Our lives depend on it.

  Nine pulls on a shirt, and gives me a condescending look I know well. ‘No, you idiot. Haven’t you figured it out yet? I didn’t have a vision too. We were in the same vision. It’s been happening all week. Get a clue, would you?’

  I’m flustered, and I don’t hide it well. ‘But whenever I talked about them you blew them off. You blew me off. You kept saying they’re just dreams and all that. You could see how the dreams have been tormenting me, Nine! You’ve been acting like I’m nuts for taking them seriously!’

  ‘First of all, you believe you’re Pittacus Lore, so technically you are nuts. Second, I wasn’t messing with your head. I did blow the visions off at first; mine and yours. Thought they were bullshit. When Setrákus Ra asked me to surrender, just like he asked you and that other kid, I figured the visions were a form of mind game or some trick, perpetrated by the Mogs. I didn’t think we should trust them; I definitely didn’t think we should do anything they suggested we do. In fact, I thought the safest bet was to do anything but what they wanted. But this time . . .’ Nine pauses. ‘This time, it felt like a warning. A warning we should take seriously. Now, I’m pretty convinced that there is some serious shit about to go down, Four.’

  As relieved as I am that he has finally decided to listen, I’m frustrated it took so long. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Okay, then, let’s go! Have you thought about how we’re going to get there? Oh, man, please tell me you and Sandor have your own helicopter or airplane tucked away somewhere!’

  ‘Sorry, dude, they were on our wish list.’ he yawns and stretches. ‘But I do have a car in the parking garage. And I love to drive. Fast.’

  Nine and I grab as much as we can from the weapons room, stuffing two large duffel bags full of rifles, handguns, and grenades. I pick up a rocket launcher but Nine says it won’t fit in the trunk. We need the remaining space for ammo. Next, we race to the surveillance room to grab the tablet.

  Nine sits down and starts punching keys at one of the computers. ‘I have to shut this sucker down. Wouldn’t want any of it to be useful to someone who isn’t welcome. Do me a favor. While I’m dealing with this, check on the Garde with that tablet thing.’

  I press the blue circle in the upper corner an
d wait. I see our two radiating blue dots in Chicago. Then I see one in northern New Mexico, and there’s still one in Jamaica. I wait a few seconds for the other three to appear, but they don’t.

  ‘Um, Nine? I only see four,’ I say, my voice rising in panic. ‘There’re only four blue dots!’

  He rips the tablet out of my hand. ‘Let me see it. They must somehow be off the grid,’ Nine says. He doesn’t sound so sure of himself all of a sudden. He presses the green triangle and the green pulsing dots show up on the map in New Mexico and Egypt, just like before. ‘At least the missing three didn’t take one of the ships.’

  I look closer and press the blue circle again. I realize the blue dot in New Mexico is now at the exact same spot as the green dot. ‘That Garde in New Mexico is on top of the ship, if that is a ship.’

  ‘Hope whoever that is knows it would be one lonely flight,’ Nine says. I shake my head at him and look back at the screen, trying to figure out what our next move should be.

  Then it hits me. ‘Wait. The government is involved in all this somehow, right? What else is in New Mexico? Area 51 ! Is that where this green dot is? The most well-known place for UFO sightings?’ It’s all starting to come together.

  Nine pulls the keyboard closer and starts tapping even more quickly. ‘Cool your jets, cowboy. First of all, Area 51 is in Nevada. Second, we aliens know that place is just a decoy. It’s a meaningless airplane hangar, give or take.’ A map of New Mexico appears on the main screen and Nine zooms in on the northern half. ‘Okay, wait a second.’ He looks from the tablet back to the computer screen. ‘Now this is interesting. You weren’t that far off, after all. We may not be headed for Area 51 , but we are going someplace just as secret.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, while I wonder why I’m always playing catch up with this guy.

  Nine pushes his chair away from the desk with an annoyingly satisfied grin on his face. ‘Holy shit. It all makes sense now.’ He stabs the screen with his finger. ‘In this part of New Mexico there’s a town in the middle of the desert called Dulce. Is any of this ringing familiar? No? Dulce, as in the infamous underground Dulce Base, run by the one and only U.S. government. That must be where our ship is. Now I’m positive those are our ships, blinking away on that screen! In their perfect wisdom, the government feeds the rumors about Area 51 so all the UFO freaks stay away from the real deal in Dulce.’

  I can’t help but smile. ‘So, now we’re going to an underground government base?’

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ Nine says, shutting down the computer. He practically takes a bow, so pleased with himself for figuring all this out. ‘Although it’s supposed to be insanely secure and completely impossible to get into. And that’s why it’s the perfect place to hide our ship.’

  ‘Or to hide the random aliens you find during the course of your travels,’ I add.

  It feels as if everything has been turned upside down since I woke up. We quickly get moving, piling the weapons, our Chests, and the supplies in the elevator. BK barely squeezes in with us as the elevator doors close. Nine surprises me with how gentle he sounds when he addresses the closed doors, ‘You were a sweet home, Chicago. I hope I see you again.’

  We descend rapidly. ‘Hey, man,’ I say. ‘Remember, our real home is so much cooler.’ He doesn’t say anything, but I see his shoulders relax.

  The elevator doors open into an underground garage. We pause and carefully look around before we start to unload. With the coast clear, Nine and I throw the bags over our shoulders and BK follows. As we turn a corner, I see we’re headed for a car hidden under a dusty tarp. After the luxury of the apartment, I can only imagine what must lurk beneath it. I can picture a yellow Ferrari, or something equally flashy. Or maybe it’s a white convertible Porsche or even a black Lotus.

  Nine must have read my thoughts. He winks at me and yanks the tarp off to reveal our ride. There, in all its glory, sits an old, beat-up, beige Ford Contour. Not exactly the pimpedout ride I was expecting, but bling is now the least of my concerns; this thing doesn’t look like it’ll even start.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I ask, not even bothering to hide my disgust.

  Nine looks at me innocently, even though he clearly knew what I was expecting. ‘What? You were hoping for a Camaro?’

  ‘Not exactly. But I was hoping for something with less rust spots. Something that looks less determined to die,’ I say.

  ‘Shut up and get in, Johnny,’ he says, tossing his bags into the trunk. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’

  22.

  I wake to the sensation of rocking back and forth. Everything hurts. My whole body feels fried by the sun: my throat, my skin, my feet and my head. My lips are so dry and burned, I can’t even put them together. My eyelids are the worst of all, and they refuse to open, no matter how desperately I want to see where I am. The rocking and swaying continues and it dawns on me I must be in a moving vehicle. A wave of nausea rolls over me. I try to lift my hands to my head, but that’s when I discover they’re tied down. So are my legs. Now I’m wide awake, and I force my eyes open and look madly around, but all I see is darkness. I close my eyes again. The desert sun must have left me blind.

  I try to call out for help, but all I can do is wheeze and cough. My ears pick up an echo, and I concentrate on the air around me. I cough again, just to hear the echo once more. It’s enough sound to understand I’m in a tight space, and that the space around me is made of metal. It feels like I’m in a coffin, and I almost wretch.

  That’s when I start to panic. What if I’m not blind? What if I’m really dead? I can’t be. I am in way too much pain to be dead. But I feel buried alive.

  My breath starts to come fast and furious when a man’s voice stops my panic attack cold. It’s loud and electronic, coming through a speaker. ‘Are you awake?’

  I try to answer him, but my throat is too dry. I tap my fingers on the bench and realize it’s metal, too. A few seconds later there is a noise to my right, and I can sense something has been placed near me.

  ‘There’s a glass of water and a straw beside you. Take a sip,’ the man says.

  I turn my head and find the straw with my mouth. The skin on my lips cracks as I try to close them around the straw. When I take a sip of water, I can taste the metallic tinge of blood and I hear a low humming in my ears. It’s the same hum I heard at the gate. The box I’m in must be flowing with electricity.

  ‘What were you doing at that gate?’ The man asks. Every time he speaks, I am struck by how neutral his voice is. It isn’t friendly, but neither is it threatening.

  ‘Lost,’ I whisper. ‘I was lost.’

  ‘How did you get lost?’

  I take another sip before saying, ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘ You don’t know. I see. Your number is six, is it not?’

  I cough and choke at the question, mentally chewing myself out for doing so. I’m usually cooler than this, but my mind is completely cooked by the sun. If he wasn’t sure of the answer before, he is now. I resolve to get a grip, to stop making stupid mistakes.

  The voice is back. ‘Well, number six. You’re pretty famous around here. The footage from the high school in Paradise and the way you took down those helicopters in Tennessee was impressive. And then there’s the incredible show you put on in D.C. last week, breaking John Smith and Sam Goode out of a federal facility. You are quite the little warrior princess, aren’t you?’

  I’m still stuck on how he could know who I am; now he’s talking like he had front-row seats to my life? My body sways hard to the left, and I realize I must be in a moving vehicle that just took a turn, taking me who knows where. I push against the strap over my forehead – nothing happens. I try using my telekinesis, but as soon as I even start to focus my thoughts pain rolls through my stomach so bad I almost throw up again.

  ‘What you need to do is relax. Trying to fight isn’t going to get you anywhere. You’re dehydrated and most likely have heat stroke. You’re going to feel pretty si
ck for a while.’

  ‘Who are you?’ I manage to ask, painfully.

  ‘Agent David Purdy, FBI ,’ he says. I feel slightly better knowing I’m in the hands of the U.S. government, not captured by the Mogs. I couldn’t go through that again, knowing what was coming, especially now that the charm that protected me the first time has been broken. With the FBI , my chances of survival have just skyrocketed. No matter how aggressive they are, they aren’t monsters. All I need right now is a little patience; the opportunity to escape will come. Purdy doesn’t know that, probably assumes it can’t be true. Right now, I’ll just follow his advice. Relax. Rehydrate. Wait. I might as well see what else he’s willing to tell me about what he knows about me, what he knows about all of this.

  ‘Where am I?’ I ask.

  The speaker squeals before Agent Purdy answers. ‘You’re in a transport. It’s a short trip.’

  Again I try to use my telekinesis to undo my leg straps, but I’m still too weak and the attempt makes me nauseous again. I take another couple of sips of water to give myself time to think. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘We’ve got a reunion planned for you with a friend, or maybe I should say a friend of John Smith’s. Do you call him John? Or, do you call him Number Four?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I say. I pause before answering. ‘I don’t know anyone named John Four.’

  All of a sudden, I remember what happened back in the desert, just before I blacked out at the gate. I felt half out of my mind, so much so I wasn’t even sure the helicopters landing close by were even real. I remember hearing Ella’s voice. No. I didn’t just hear her voice; we spoke to one another. She asked, I answered. Given the fact that it’s the FBI who has me, it’s a pretty good bet there really were helicopters. If those were real, maybe I did communicate with Ella. Has a new Legacy kicked in? Just when I needed it most.

  Ella? Can you hear me? I try again, just in case. The FBI is holding me, some agent named Purdy has me locked up and we’re in some kind of vehicle. Purdy says it isn’t far, wherever it is we’re going.