The Power of Six (I Am Number Four)

by Pittacus Lore

  We hop in the car and Six drives slowly down the road, and Sam and I hide in the footwells of the backseat. Bernie Kosar barks from the passenger seat, happy to be riding shotgun for a change.

  Sam and I pass the laptop back and forth, both of us reading the article about Santa Teresa twice, three times. The burning symbol on the mountain is no doubt Loric. “What if it’s a trap?” I ask. “My Chest is more important right now.” It might be selfish, but before I leave the continent, I want my Inheritance. The possibility that the Mogs might open my Chest is just as urgent to me as whatever is going on in Spain.

  “I need to know how to get to the cave,” I say.

  “John! Get real. You’re really not going to come with me to Spain?” Six asks. “After reading all that, you’re going to let me and Sam go alone?”

  “Guys, get this. Also out of Santa Teresa, there’s a woman reported to have been cured, out of the blue, of an incurable degenerative disease. Santa Teresa is, like, an epicenter of activity right now. I bet every member of the Garde are on their way,” Sam says.

  “If that’s the case,” I say, “then I’m definitely not going. I’m getting my Chest back.”

  “That’s insane,” Six says.

  I scramble over the passenger seat and open the glove compartment. My fingers find the stone I’m looking for, and I drop it in Six’s lap before hiding in the footwell again.

  She lifts the pale yellow stone above the wheel, turning it over in the sunlight, and laughs. “You had the Xitharis out?”

  “I figured it might come in handy,” I say.

  “These don’t last long, remember,” she says.

  “How long?”

  “An hour, maybe a little more.”

  The news is discouraging, but it could still give me the advantage I need. “Can you charge it, please?”

  When Six holds the Xitharis to her temple, I know she’s agreed to let me go after the Chests while she heads to Spain.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I DO IT WITHOUT EVEN THINKING. THE SECOND the man points at me from the edge of the hole in the roof, I send two metal bed frames rocketing towards him. The second one is a direct hit. He falls forward and into the sleeping quarters; and when he hits the stone floor, to my amazement, he turns into a pile of dirt or ash.

  “Run!” Adelina screams.

  We crash into the hallway, pushing against the flow of the other girls and Sisters heading to the south wing for safety. I take hold of Adelina’s hand and guide us to the nave and down the center aisle.

  “Where are we going?” Adelina yells.

  “We’re not leaving without the Chest!”

  Another explosion rocks the foundation of the orphanage and my hip crashes into a pew.

  “I’ll be right back,” I whisper, releasing her hand, floating towards the nook.

  Six tells us we’re close to Washington, DC, and that makes sense. I am considered an armed and dangerous terrorist; no wonder I was taken to the nation’s capital for questioning.

  “There’s a flight leaving Dulles International in less than an hour,” she says, turning the wheel. “I’m getting on that plane. Sam, are you with me or are you with John?”

  Sam places his forehead on the backseat and closes his eyes.

  “Sam?” Six asks.

  “I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” he says. After a minute, he raises his head and looks right at me. “I’m going with John.”

  I mouth Thank you.

  “It’ll be easier for me to get there alone, anyway,” Six says, but she sounds hurt.

  “You’ll be fighting with more experienced Garde members,” I reassure her. “Plus, it’s probably going to take two of us to get both of our Chests out of there.”

  Bernie Kosar barks from the front seat.

  “Yeah, buddy,” I say. “You’re a part of this team, too.”

  The Chest is gone. My entire body sweats with panic. I almost vomit. Did the Mogadorians know it was up here the whole time? Why didn’t they trap me in here when they had the chance? I float back onto the nave floor.

  “It’s gone, Adelina,” I whisper.

  “The Chest?”

  “It’s gone.” I hug her and bury my face in her shoulder. She pulls something up over her head. It’s a pale blue, almost transparent amulet attached to a beige cord. She carefully slips it over my hair until the amulet touches my neck. It’s both cold and warm at the same time against my skin, and then it glows brightly. My breath is taken away.

  “What is it?” I ask, covering the glow with my hands.

  “Loralite, the most powerful gem on Lorien, found only at its core,” she whispers. “I’ve hidden it this whole time. It’s yours, and there’s no use in hiding it any longer. They know who you are, with or without the amulet. I’ll never forgive myself for not training you properly. Never. I’m sorry, Marina.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, feeling tears well up behind my eyes. All these years, this was all I had wanted from her. Understanding. Companionship. The acknowledgment of shared secrets.

  We get closer to the airport, and the fear of splitting up weighs heavily on us. Sam tries to distract himself by studying the papers Six took from his dad’s office. “I wish I could spread these out in some library’s reference section.”

  “After West Virginia,” I say. “I promise.”

  Six gives me and Sam careful instructions on how to find the map that’ll take us to the cave. The rest of the trip passes in silence. We pull into a McDonald’s parking lot a mile from Dulles.

  “There are three things you guys have to know.”

  I sigh. “Why do I have the feeling that none of these things are going to be good?”

  She ignores me and writes something on the back of a receipt. “First, here’s the address that I’ll be at in exactly two weeks at five p.m. Meet me there. If I’m not there, or, if for some reason you aren’t, then return in another week and I’ll do the same. If one of us doesn’t make it after the second week, then I think we can assume the other isn’t coming.” She hands it to Sam, who reads it and shoves it into his jeans pocket.

  “Two weeks, five p.m.,” I say. “Got it. The second thing?”

  “Bernie Kosar can’t go into the cave with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’ll kill him. I don’t understand it completely, but the Mogadorians control their beasts by filtering some sort of gas throughout the cave that only affects animals. If one leaves its designated place, it drops dead. When I finally got out, there was a heap of dead animals right at the cave’s entrance. Animals that had gotten too close.”

  “Gross,” Sam says.

  “And the last thing?”

  “Their cave is equipped with every detection device you can think of. Cameras, motion detectors, body temperature gauges, infrared. Everything. The Xitharis will allow you to get past everything; but once it’s out of juice, look out, because they’re going to find you.”

  “Where do we go?” I ask Adelina. Now that the Chest is gone, I feel directionless. Even with the amulet around my neck.

  “We go to the belfry, and you use your telekinesis to get us into the yard. Then we run.”

  I take her hand and start running when a ball of fire suddenly roars from the back of the nave. The fire takes hold of the back pews and rages towards the high ceiling. The nave is now brighter than it is during Sunday Mass. A man in a trench coat with long blond hair walks confidently out of the northern hallway, our path to freedom, and every muscle in my body seems to come unwound at the same time; every inch of skin breaks out with goose bumps.

  He stands watching us, the flames attacking several more rows of pews, and then a sneer slowly breaks across his face. From the corner of my eye, I can see Adelina reach into her dress and remove something, but I can’t tell what it is. She stands beside me, her eyes aimed at the back of the nave. And then, ever so gently, she reaches up and pushes me behind her.

  “I can’t make up for lost
time, or for the wrongs that I’ve done,” she says. “But I’m certainly going to try. Don’t let them catch you.”

  Just then the Mogadorian comes charging towards us, right down the center aisle. He’s far larger than he looked from a distance, and he lifts a long sword that glows a fluorescent green color.

  “Get as far from here as you can,” Adelina says without turning. “Be brave, Marina.”

  Six places the Xitharis into the console’s cupholder and then slides out of the SUV. “I’m running late,” she says as she closes her door.

  Sam and I both exit the vehicle after carefully studying the parking lot, the other cars, the people milling about.

  I round the front of the hood and watch as Six hugs Sam.

  “Kick some ass over there,” he says.

  They separate and she says, “Sam, thank you for helping us even when you don’t have to. Thank you for being so amazing.”

  “You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

  To my surprise and Sam’s, Six steps forward and kisses him on the cheek. They smile at each other, and once Sam sees me over Six’s shoulder, he blushes, opens the driver’s door, and climbs inside.

  I don’t want her to go. As much as it pains me to admit it, I know I might never see her again. She looks at me with a certain tenderness that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from her before.

  “I like you, John. For the past few weeks, I’ve tried convincing myself that I don’t, especially because of Sarah and how much of an idiot you can be . . . but I do. I do like you.”

  The words knock me over. I hesitate, then say “I like you, too.”

  “Do you still love Sarah?” she asks.

  I nod. She deserves the truth. “I do, but it’s all really confusing. She may have turned me in, and she may never want to see me again because I told her I thought you were pretty. But Henri once said that the Loric fall in love once in their life. And so that means I will always love Sarah.”

  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 cock 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. S
he’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.”