The Revenge of Seven

by Pittacus Lore

  It’s difficult to look at the Malcolm on-screen, and it gets even worse when Anu starts asking him questions.

  ‘Good morning, Malcolm,’ Anu says, now in English, his tone the kind usually reserved for children. ‘Are you ready to resume our conversation?’

  ‘Yes, Doctor,’ the Malcolm on-screen answers, his mouth sagging through the words, a glimmer of drool appearing at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Very good,’ Anu replies, and glances down at a clipboard on his lap. ‘I want you to think about your encounter with Pittacus Lore. I want to know what he was doing on Earth.’

  ‘He was preparing for what is to come,’ Malcolm replies, his voice distant and robotic.

  ‘Be specific, Malcolm,’ Anu insists.

  ‘He was preparing for the Mogadorian invasion and the rebirth of Lorien.’ On the screen, Malcolm looks suddenly alarmed. He jerks his arms against his bonds. ‘They’re already here. Hunting us.’

  ‘Indeed, but you’re safe now,’ Anu says, and waits for Malcolm to calm down. ‘How long have the Loric been visiting Earth?’

  ‘Centuries. Pittacus hoped that humanity would be ready when the time came.’

  ‘When the time came for what?’

  ‘To fight. To restart Lorien.’

  Anu drums the clipboard with his pen, growing annoyed by Malcolm’s hypnotized vagueness. ‘How will they restart Lorien from here, Malcolm? The planet is light-years away. Are you lying to me?’

  ‘Not lying,’ Malcolm mumbles. ‘Lorien is not simply a planet. It is more than that. It can exist in any place where the people are worthy. Pittacus and the Elders have already made the preparations. Loralite runs beneath our feet even now, circulating through the Earth. Like blood coursing through veins, it only needs a heartbeat to give it purpose. All it needs is to be awoken.’

  Anu leans forward, suddenly very interested. I find myself doing the same thing, bending towards the screen, my head tilted.

  ‘How will they accomplish this?’ Anu asks, clearly trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  ‘Each of the Garde possesses what Pittacus called Phoenix Stones,’ Malcolm replies. ‘When the Garde come of age, the Stones can be used to re-create the features of Lorien – the plant life, Loralite, the Chimærae.’

  ‘But what of the Legacies? What of Lorien’s true gifts?’

  ‘Those, too, will come once Lorien is awoken,’ Malcolm answers. ‘The Phoenix Stones, the pendants, everything has a purpose. When they are committed to the Earth in the Elders’ Sanctuary, Lorien will live once again.’

  Anu glances back at the camera, his eyes wide. He composes himself and presses on.

  ‘Where is this Sanctuary, Malcolm?’

  ‘Calakmul. Only the Garde may enter.’

  Here, Malcolm pauses the recording. He looks around the room; his lips are squeezed into a somber line, but there’s a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Everyone’s stunned faces peer back at him, none of us quite done digesting what we’ve just seen.

  Nine raises his hand, frowning. ‘I don’t get it. What the hell is Calakmul?’

  ‘It’s an ancient Mayan city located in southeast Mexico,’ Malcolm replies, a ripple of excitement stirring his voice.

  ‘Why didn’t we know any of this?’ Six asks, still staring at the paused screen. ‘Why didn’t the Elders tell us? Or our Cêpans? If this is all so important, why keep us in the dark?’

  Malcolm pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘I don’t have a good answer for that, Six. The Mogadorian invasion caught the Elders off guard. You were rushed to Earth, your Cêpans completely unprepared as well. Your survival was top priority. I can only assume all this – the Phoenix Stones, your pendants, the Sanctuary – was meant to be revealed when you came of age, once you had Legacies and were ready to fight. To tell you before that would’ve made your secrets too vulnerable. Although’ – Malcolm looks forlornly at his image on the screen – ‘we can see how poorly secrecy served us.’

  ‘Maybe that’s why Henri came to Paradise looking for you, Dad,’ Sam suggests, glancing between his father and me. ‘Maybe it was time.’

  My mind is racing. Without even realizing it, I’ve started to pace back and forth. It takes a look from Six to get me to stop.

  ‘I always thought we’d win this war and return to Lorien,’ I say slowly, trying to catch hold of my thoughts. ‘I thought that’s what Henri meant about restarting it.’

  ‘Maybe he meant here,’ Six suggests. ‘Maybe we’re supposed to restart Lorien here.’

  ‘What would that even mean?’ Sam asks. ‘What would happen to Earth?’

  ‘Can’t be worse than what’ll happen when the Mogs get here,’ Nine replies. ‘I mean, I remember Lorien being pretty sweet. We’d be doing Earth a favor.’

  ‘On the tape you made it sound like an entity of some kind,’ Marina says, looking at Malcolm.

  ‘I –’ Malcolm shakes his head. ‘I wish I could remember more, Marina. I don’t have the answers.’

  ‘It could be like a god,’ Marina says, a hushed reverence in her voice.

  ‘It could be like a weapon that comes busting out of the Earth to kill all the Mogs,’ Nine suggests.

  Adam clears his throat uncomfortably.

  ‘Whatever it is, Malcolm said we need the Phoenix Stones to wake it,’ I say, trying not to let the group get sidetracked.

  ‘And the pendants,’ Six says, then tilts her head as something occurs to her. ‘Maybe that’s why Setrákus Ra keeps them. They could be more than trophies to him.’

  ‘We went through our Chests back in Chicago,’ Nine groans, probably remembering how bored he was cataloging our Inheritance. ‘I’ve got more rocks and shit than I know what to do with.’

  ‘We should bring it all,’ Marina says, certainty in her voice. ‘Our Inheritances. Our pendants. Bring it to the Sanctuary and commit it to the Earth, like Malcolm said.’

  Malcolm nods. ‘I know it’s vague, but it’s something.’

  ‘It could be the advantage we’re looking for,’ I say, thinking it over. ‘Hell, it could be what we were sent here to do in the first place.’

  Nine crosses his arms, looking skeptical. ‘Yesterday I was staring at the biggest goddamn Mogadorian ship I’ve ever seen. Burying our stuff in some dusty-ass temple might’ve been a cool idea like months ago, but we’re this close to full-on war and I’m pretty sure we’ve got some bad guys to kill.’

  Before I can reply, Malcolm steps forward. ‘The Sanctuary might be our best hope,’ he says. ‘But it’s best not to put all our eggs in one basket.’

  ‘Nine’s sort of right. As much as I hate the idea of splitting up again,’ Six says, ‘some of us should stick with Walker’s plan to take the fight to the Mogs and their people.’

  Nine pumps a fist. ‘This guy.’

  ‘And some of us should head to Mexico,’ I say, finishing Six’s thought.

  ‘I want to go,’ Marina says immediately. ‘I want to see this Sanctuary. If it’s a place for Loric, a place where we lived, maybe that’s where we should bury Eight’s body.’

  I nod and look over at Six, waiting for her decision. ‘Well? New York or Mexico?’

  ‘Mexico,’ she says, after a moment. ‘You’re better at dealing with these government types than I am. And if we need a Loric representative at the UN, you’re the obvious choice.’

  ‘Thanks. I think.’

  ‘She’s saying that because you’re such a boy scout,’ Nine adds in a loud whisper.

  I glance over at Sam, who seems like he’s about to speak, his mouth half open. He’s cut off by Six, who subtly shakes her head at him.

  ‘I’ll stay here, too, I guess,’ Sam says after an awkward moment, sounding more than a little deflated. He forces a smile for me. ‘Someone has to keep you and Nine in line.’

  That leaves only Adam. Our Mogadorian ally has maintained a respectful silence this whole time, probably trying not to step on any toes as the secrets of our race are revealed. When I turn to
him, he’s still gazing at the screen. He looks lost in memory, maybe remembering Dr Anu and his machine. He frowns when he notices the rest of us watching him.

  ‘They’ll be waiting for you in Mexico,’ Adam says. ‘If there’s a source of Loric power there, you know my people will have spent the last few years trying to access it.’

  ‘Only the Garde can get in, though, right?’ Sam asks, looking from Adam to his dad.

  ‘It’s what I said,’ Malcolm replies, lips pursed in uncertainty.

  ‘Just like only we can have Legacies?’ Nine replies, eyeballing Adam. ‘You’re saying this could be another trap, Mog?’

  ‘It’s not a trap when you know it’s there,’ Adam says, sparing a quick glance for Nine before turning his eyes towards Six. ‘I don’t know exactly what you’ll find down there, but I can guarantee a Mogadorian presence. I can pilot the Skimmer better than you, maybe outmanoeuvre them if they’ve got ships in the air.’

  ‘Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to walk to Mexico,’ Six replies, dryly. She looks at me. ‘You trust this guy, right?’

  ‘I do.’

  She shrugs. ‘Then welcome to Team Calakmul, Adam.’

  I hear Marina suck her teeth, but she doesn’t make any other protest.

  ‘Great. We’re sending a Mogadorian to investigate a Loric holy place,’ Nine complains, shaking his head. ‘Doesn’t anyone else think that’s sorta disrespectful?’

  ‘Didn’t you just refer to it as dusty-ass?’ Sam asks.

  ‘Statement of fact,’ Nine says. ‘Just like this whole good-Mog thing is still hella weird. No offense.’

  I silence the banter when I reach under my shirt and pull my Loric pendant over my head. I feel an odd coldness against my heart when it’s gone. I can’t remember the last time that I was without it. With the room suddenly gone quiet again, I hold out the pendant to Six.

  ‘Take it,’ I say. ‘Make sure it gets to the Sanctuary.’

  ‘No pressure,’ Six says, smirking, as she accepts the pendant.

  ‘Now,’ I say, looking around. ‘Let’s win this war and change the world.’

  18

  We say good-bye later that morning, all of us gathered around the Skimmer on the Ashwood Estates basketball court.

  It feels strange to be wearing a Loric pendant around my neck again. And I don’t mean literal physical weight – the pendants themselves aren’t heavy at all. They just contain all the Legacies of Lorien, apparently. All the power of our nearly extinct people, imbued into a few glistening Loralite stones.

  Yeah. No big deal.

  ‘Is that everything?’ Marina asks. She’s on her knees in front of her open Chest, gently rearranging its contents. We’ve got Eight’s Chest as well. Its contents are forever locked up, possibly destroyed, but we figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it to the Sanctuary with the rest.

  I don’t have a Chest of my own, so Marina has to put all of our collected Inheritance into hers. After our meeting earlier, John and Nine went through their Chests and gathered together anything that wasn’t a weapon, a healing stone, or otherwise combat related. Besides the handful of Loric gemstones yet to be traded for penthouses or computer equipment, John handed over a bundle of dried leaves tied with a yellowed piece of twine that make the sound of the wind when my fingers brush against them, and Nine gives up a pouch of soft, coffee-dark soil. Marina carefully put these items into her Chest, alongside a vial of crystal clear water, a stray piece of Loralite and a tree branch with the bark pared away.

  ‘So, because we don’t know what exactly these Phoenix Stones are, we’ll just dump anything that’s close, right?’ I say, then hastily correct myself. ‘I mean, not dump. Commit to the Earth. What brainwashed Malcolm said.’

  John laughs a little. ‘If we come up with a better plan, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Dad’s still down there watching more tapes,’ Sam offers. ‘Maybe he’ll find something else.’

  ‘Right now, winging it seems like the only option. On pretty much every front,’ John says. ‘There’s something else I want you to take to the Sanctuary, Six.’

  John crouches down to reach into his Chest. I was wondering why he’d brought it with him to the basketball court after we already went through it inside. I understand when he holds out a small can that I immediately recognize.

  Henri’s ashes.

  ‘John …,’ I say, not accepting the can right away.

  ‘Take him,’ John replies, gently. ‘He belongs at the Sanctuary.’

  ‘But don’t you want to be there? To say good-bye?’

  ‘Of course I do. But with everything that’s happening, I don’t know if I’ll have a chance.’ When I start to protest again, John cuts me off. ‘It’s okay, Six. I’ll feel better knowing he’s with you, headed to the Sanctuary.’

  ‘If it’s what you want,’ I say, accepting the ashes. ‘I’ll take care of him. I promise.’

  I carefully place the can of Henri’s ashes in Marina’s Chest with the rest of our stuff. We all fall silent, the mood turning somber. It’s hard to have this kind of moment when you’re being watched, though. The government agents keep their distance, although I can see some of them, including Walker herself, watching us from a nearby porch.

  ‘You going to be all right with them?’ I ask John.

  He looks around, noting all the prying eyes. ‘They’re on our side now, remember?’

  ‘I have to keep reminding myself,’ I reply, my gaze involuntarily turning towards the Skimmer. ‘Seems like I’m doing that a lot.’

  Adam is already on board the Skimmer, along with Dust, the Chimæra that’s bonded with him. I’m taking John at his word that we can trust the wiry Mogadorian currently running diagnostics in the cockpit. I’m not sure Marina feels the same; she hasn’t said anything outright, but I can feel cold radiating from her whenever Adam’s near. After everything that’s happened, I can’t blame her for being suspicious. I’ve resigned myself to a very chilly flight to Mexico.

  ‘Check in often,’ John reminds me, tapping the phone that he’s clipped to the hip of his jeans like a total dork. Both Marina and I are now in possession of satellite phones, too bulky to wear as fashion accessories, so they’re stored with the rest of our supplies. The gear arrived courtesy of the U. S. Government, or at least the rebel-faction that Walker has ties with. Both Adam and Malcolm looked over the phones and assured us they aren’t bugged.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I reply. ‘You, too, John. Stay in touch. Stay alive.’

  ‘And take care of all our stuff,’ Nine grumbles. He’s standing a few paces off, watching Marina mess with her Chest, his eyebrows furrowed. ‘I want some of those gems back, if possible. You know, for after. Need to buy a new place to live thanks to my shitty house-sitter over here.’

  I shoot Nine a look. ‘Are you serious right now?’

  He shrugs. ‘What? Gotta plan for the future!’

  Marina looks up from her Chest and, with a sigh, tosses Nine a pair of dark gloves. ‘Here. I never figured out what to do with these.’

  ‘Sweet,’ Nine says, and pulls them on immediately. He flexes his fingers inside the leatherlike material, then violently thrusts his palms out towards John. ‘Did you feel anything, dude?’

  John ignores Nine, looking at Marina. ‘Can we be sure those aren’t important? What if they’re a Phoenix Stone?’

  ‘They’re gloves, Johnny,’ Nine says, not taking them off. ‘You ever heard of an ancient ritual that involves burying a pair of stylish-ass gloves? Come on.’

  John shakes his head, giving up. His eyes linger on Henri’s ashes until Marina closes her Chest, and then his gaze drifts towards the Skimmer. ‘I wish I could come with you. I’d like to be there for … for both of them.’

  Eight’s body is already on board the Skimmer, strapped securely to one of the seats.

  ‘After,’ Marina says, and she reaches out to squeeze John’s hand. She’s still walking around with a lot of sadness – we all are – but I’m slo
wly seeing signs that the old, gentle Marina is melting all that ice. ‘Eight would understand. Once we’ve won, there will be time for us to pay our respects properly. All of us, together.’

  Nine stops screwing with his new gloves and gets serious for a moment, looking at Marina. ‘I’d like that,’ he says.

  ‘Ready?’ I ask Marina.

  She nods and uses her telekinesis to float her Chest into the Skimmer’s entrance. ‘Be safe, all of you.’

  One by one, Marina hugs the boys, and I do the same. Sam is last for me, and when he wraps me up in a big hug, I get the same feeling that I did before when we were all assembled in the Mogadorian tunnels, that everyone is watching us and tittering about how precious we are. I bristle a little bit, but before I know it the hug has lasted way longer than the others’, and our friends have drifted a few steps away as if to let us have a discreet moment.

  ‘Six –,’ Sam says quietly against my ear, and I pull back enough to look at him, cutting him off.

  ‘Don’t make this weird, Sam,’ I whisper, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, glancing surreptitiously towards the others.

  So, we spent last night together. Maybe that wasn’t the wisest move on my part. I love Sam, in my way, and I don’t want to string him along or hurt his feelings. I’m just still not sold on having any kind of relationship until this is all over, especially with how stupid and complicated things got with John after just some flirting. But, after everything that happened in Florida, I needed something good for a change – something warm and safe and approaching normal – and that was Sam. I thought he understood that I didn’t want to get into some dopey John/Sarah-style, star-crossed-lovers thing with him. But here we are, having a moment, and blunt as I’m trying to be, I’m not exactly pulling away either.

  ‘I’m not making it anything,’ Sam says, screwing up his face at me. ‘I just – I don’t get why you didn’t want me coming with you.’

  ‘You’ll do more good here, with your dad,’ I tell him. ‘And you’ll need to keep John and Nine in line.’

  ‘The last time I went on a mission with John, he left me inside a mountain,’ Sam says, not buying it. ‘Come on, Six. What is it really?’