The Revenge of Seven

by Pittacus Lore

  The traitor stands over me, gulping down deep breaths. His skin is metallic, but he still looks badly injured. He’s wearing an eye patch, for starters. One side of his face looks swollen, and I think I actually see dents in the metal carapace that covers his skull. He’s missing a couple of teeth. I’m not sure where he picked up those injuries, and I don’t care.

  The bastard blindsided me. I was so close. Setrákus Ra was as good as dead.

  My dagger is still attached to my wrist, but it’s the arm that’s dislocated. I grope for it, trying to switch hands. Before I can manage it, Five lifts me by the front of my tattered sweatshirt.

  ‘Listen to me!’ he shouts in my face.

  ‘Go to hell,’ I reply.

  With my working arm, I grab Five’s metal forearm and heat up my Lumen as hot as it can go. Whatever metal he’s turned into, it definitely has a boiling point. I wonder if I can get his metal shell to melt off before he can do whatever he’s got planned.

  ‘Stop it, John!’ Five yelps, shaking me.

  ‘You murdered Eight, you son of a bitch!’

  Noxious-smelling steam curls up from between my fingers. Five’s eye widens a fraction, but he doesn’t let me loose and he doesn’t pull away. I’m hurting him and he’s just taking it.

  ‘You arrogant asshole,’ Five snaps, and he cocks back his fist like he’s going to strike me. I’m not sure I have the strength to stop him. His clenched fist trembles, and he seems to reconsider. ‘Listen to me, John! If you hurt Setrákus Ra, the damage will be done to Ella!’

  I let the heat of my Lumen die down a fraction. My hand feels sticky with molten metal.

  ‘What? What are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s a charm, like the one the Elders used on us,’ Five says. ‘He’s twisted it somehow.’

  I turn off my Lumen entirely. Is Five trying to help us now? Did he knock me off Setrákus Ra not to protect his Beloved Leader but to save Ella? I don’t know what to think.

  ‘How do we break it?’ I shout at him. ‘How do we kill him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Five replies, glancing over his shoulder. His expression suddenly goes dark again, that fury I’d seen when he was about to punch me reignited. ‘Damn him!’

  Five rips away from me and takes flight. I climb back to my feet just in time to see Nine charging at Setrákus Ra. He holds a broken piece of the stage out in front of him like a spear.

  ‘Nine! Don’t!’

  Nine doesn’t hear me, probably because he’s too busy getting sideswiped by Five. The two of them go crashing into the wreckage of the stage, broken pieces of wood flying everywhere. Once they hit, it looks like Five tries to take flight again, but Nine gets hold of his ankle.

  ‘Where you going, fat boy?’ I hear Nine yell.

  Nine gets back to his feet, still holding Five’s ankle, and then swings him with all his might. Five flaps his arms in a futile attempt to get some momentum, but he’s overpowered. Nine slams Five face-first on to the pavement. Chunks of concrete fly up from the impact, and Five’s head makes the sound of a bell ringing when it hits. I notice his metallic shell momentarily switch back to normal skin – that must’ve hurt Five enough to make it hard to focus on his Externa.

  ‘Nine! Enough!’ I shout, pushing loose of my own pile of broken wood.

  Nine glances in my direction, and that’s when Five uppercuts him. With a roar, Nine dives back at him, and they slam together. They hurl punches at each other, a tangled mess of limbs that I lose sight of when they go crashing through the front window of the United Nations building.

  I can’t worry about them now. I have to get to Setrákus Ra.

  I have to save Ella. I won’t let her be taken for a second time.

  My left arm hangs limp at my side. I’d need to pop my shoulder back in before I could heal myself, but I don’t have time for that. I shake crusty flakes of metal off my hand and strap my dagger to the wrist of my working arm. I’ll have to do this one handed.

  Surprisingly, Setrákus Ra doesn’t seem the least bit interested in staying to fight. He drags Ella through the rubble, heading for the pearl-shaped ship he arrived in. Ella looks a lot like she did in that vision we shared of Washington, D.C. – like she’s been drained of something essential. I wonder what they did to her on that warship.

  No matter what happens! Do it! Ella had shouted in my mind. No matter what happens. Five must not be lying. Ella knew what the consequences of me stabbing Setrákus Ra would be, and she accepted them.

  Whatever they did to her, the Mogs didn’t break her. She had enough fight left in her to help us. It was like Dulce Base all over again. She stuck Setrákus Ra with a glowing piece of debris, and my Legacies instantly came back.

  She drained Setrákus Ra’s powers, I realize. And, judging by his cowardly retreat, they still haven’t returned to him.

  I might not be able to kill Setrákus Ra, but that doesn’t mean I can’t subdue him. Let’s see the Mogadorians invade while I’m holding their Beloved Leader hostage.

  I race across the lopsided and broken stage, trying to cut off Setrákus Ra before he can reach his ship. Ella sees me coming and digs her heels in. She struggles against Ra’s grip and this slows him up just enough. I’m going to catch him.

  ‘Setrákus Ra!’

  Damn it. Not now.

  The Mogadorian leader doesn’t even acknowledge Agent Walker as she comes at him from his other side. Does she expect him to freeze? It’s her and two other agents who have managed to extricate themselves from the riotous, panicking crowd. Sam is with them. They stop a few yards off, their guns leveled. Even Sam looks ready to fire – his eyes narrowed, his mouth pressed into a firm line. I remember those acid burns on Sam’s wrists. They came courtesy of Setrákus Ra. I’m sure he’s ready to settle that score.

  ‘Wait!’ I yell at Sam and Walker, but I’m too late.

  Setrákus Ra jerks his head in the direction of the agents and Sam, like they’re an annoying bug that needs to be swatted. With the hand not holding Ella, Setrákus Ra produces that three-headed whip of his from where it’s hidden under his torn uniform. Before he can lash out at them, the agents and Sam open fire.

  I can’t believe what I’m about to do.

  I stop the bullets in midair with my telekinesis. I’m not sure if they would have even penetrated Setrákus Ra’s armor, but I can’t risk it. I don’t let Sam and the others have a chance to realize all their shots have missed. Instead, I shove the entire group backwards with my telekinesis. Not hard enough to hurt them, but hard enough to knock them over some of the broken stage debris. It’s also enough to put them out of range of Setrákus Ra’s whip. I’ll apologize later.

  Setrákus Ra doesn’t give the agents a second look. The brief distraction was all he needed to reach the steps of his ship ahead of me. He bounds up them, dragging Ella along behind him, and disappears into the vessel.

  I sprint forward, determined not to let him escape. The ship begins to rise up before the staircase has fully folded back into its smooth body.

  I can still catch them. I can still stop him. I’m so close.

  I dive forward and manage to grab the bottom step with my good hand.

  The ship continues to rise while the steps recede back towards the open doorway. They pull me closer towards Setrákus Ra and Ella, even as the ship rises farther away from the Earth. I swing one of my legs up so that I’m hooked around the bottom step. Soon, we’re almost a hundred feet in the air, getting closer and closer to the warship above.

  The steps fold up like an accordion into a panel at the base of the ship’s entrance. I push off the step I’d been grasping before I’m crushed in the mechanism and lunge for the open doorway. It isn’t easy to do with only one good arm. I end up hanging from the doorway’s edge, my good arm starting to feel hyperextended. My legs dangle above what is now a two-hundred-foot drop.

  Setrákus Ra stands over me. His three-headed whip dangles in my face, the tips alive with crackling fire. I don�
�t think he plans to pull me the rest of the way in.

  I catch a glimpse of Ella through his legs. She’s slouched in one of the cockpit’s chairs, looking totally sedated. I won’t be getting any help from her.

  ‘John Smith, isn’t it?’ Setrákus Ra asks conversationally. ‘Thank you for the help down there.’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to help you.’

  ‘But you did, regardless. That is one reason why I will let you live.’

  I grimace. My grip slips a little. I need to come up with a play soon. It’s hard to chuck a fireball with one arm dislocated and the other holding on for dear life. It’ll have to be my telekinesis. Maybe if I can push him back …

  It’s gone. My telekinesis is gone. Drained, just like before.

  Setrákus Ra smiles at me. His Legacies are returning. I’ve failed.

  He crouches down so he can get right in my face.

  ‘The other reason,’ he hisses, ‘is so you can see how I make this planet burn.’

  Setrákus Ra straightens up again and nonchalantly flicks his whip at me. The three heads strike me right across the face. I’m immune to the fire, but the lashes still dig three grooves across my cheek.

  It’s enough to make me lose my grip. I’m falling.

  As I plummet towards the river below, I feel my Legacies snap back on. I must be far enough away from Setrákus Ra. Quickly, I push down with my telekinesis, doing everything I can to slow my fall.

  I still hit the East River hard. It’s like getting slapped across my whole body. Dirty water floods my lungs and for a terrifying second I’m not sure which way is up, which way to swim. I manage to resurface, choking and spitting, and trying to swim against the current with only one arm. I end up doing an awkward backstroke, gasping for breath the entire way. I’m exhausted by the time I reach the bank, slightly downriver from the chaos at the UN, surrounded on all sides by trash and dead fish.

  ‘John! John! Are you all right?’

  It’s Sam. He runs across the mud towards me. He must have seen me fall and followed me here. He skids into the muck next to me. I can only manage a groan by way of greeting. I think some of my ribs are broken.

  ‘Can you move?’ Sam asks, gingerly touching my screwed-up shoulder.

  I nod. With Sam’s help, I make it back to my feet. I’m soaked, bruised, broken in places, with three long cuts across my face. I’m not sure what to heal first.

  ‘Where’s Nine?’ I manage to ask.

  ‘I lost him in the chaos,’ Sam replies, his voice breaking. ‘He and Five were killing each other. Walker and her people are trying to evacuate civilians. It’s crazy up there. John, what do we do?’

  I start to open my mouth, hoping a plan will come to me if I just start talking, but a nearby explosion cuts me off. The impact is powerful enough that my teeth click together.

  I look up at the sky just in time to see the Mogadorian warship open fire on New York.

  29

  Eight’s eyes, brightly glowing embers of pure Loralite, assess each one of us in turn. They linger for a particularly long time on Adam – long enough to make our Mogadorian ally take a nervous step backwards. Like Marina, I’m rooted in place, staring at our friend brought back to some kind of life. Eight floats over the Sanctuary’s well in a column of unleashed energy. No, he doesn’t just float in the energy. The energy is a part of him.

  Or it. I’m pretty sure that’s not our sarcastic, goofy friend floating up there. Whatever it is, I feel a strange kinship with the entity, almost like the same energy now reanimating Eight is flowing through me, too. It’s the same electric rush I get when I use my Legacies. Maybe I’m looking at the essence of what makes me Loric, what makes me Garde.

  Maybe I’m looking at Lorien itself.

  ‘Two Loric and a Mogadorian,’ the entity says at last, its appraisal of us complete. Its voice is nothing like Eight’s used to be – it’s like a hundred voices speaking at once, all of them perfectly in tune. The flashing pools of energy where Eight’s eyes used to be linger on Adam again and the entity’s lips purse in curiosity. ‘Except not quite. You are something different. Something new.’

  ‘Uh, thank you?’ Adam replies, and takes another step backwards.

  Marina clears her throat and steps closer to the well. There are tears in her eyes. Her hands extend out in front of her, like she wants to grab at the entity’s hand and make sure he’s real.

  ‘Eight? Is that you?’ Her voice is hard to hear over the rhythmic pulsing beneath the well.

  The entity turns his gaze on Marina and frowns. ‘No. I am sorry, daughter. Your friend is gone.’

  Marina’s shoulders heave with disappointment. The thing in Eight’s body reaches out to comfort her, but energy crackles between them and it ends up pulling back.

  ‘He is with me now,’ the entity says, soothingly. ‘He does me a great service, letting me speak through him. It has been a long time since I had a voice.’

  ‘Are you Lorien?’ I ask, at last finding my own voice. ‘Are you, like, the planet?’

  The entity seems to consider my question. Through the thin fabric of Eight’s shirt, I can see his wound light up. It glows cobalt blue like the rest of him, his entire body filled up with the energy. It’s seeping out of him.

  ‘I was called that once, yes,’ the entity says, and waves its hand at the glowing carvings on the walls. ‘In other places, I was called other things. And now, on this planet, I will be called something new.’

  ‘You’re a god,’ Marina breathes.

  ‘No. I simply am.’

  I shake my head. God or not, we need this thing’s help. We don’t have time for riddles. I’m suddenly really, really tired of cave drawings and prophecies and glowing people.

  ‘Do you know what’s happening?’ I ask Eight – Lorien – whatever it is. ‘The Mogadorians are invading.’

  The entity’s eyes turn once again to Adam. ‘Not all of them, I see.’

  Adam looks uncomfortable. The entity quickly turns away. It stares up at the ceiling and it’s as if those crackling eyes can see outside of the temple. Like it can see everything.

  ‘Yes. They are coming,’ the entity says, his echoing voice apparently bemused by the impending Mogadorian invasion. ‘Their leader has chased me for a very long time. Your Elders foresaw the fall of Lorien and chose to protect me. They hid me here in hopes that it would delay him.’

  ‘It didn’t go so hot,’ I reply. Marina elbows me.

  The entity’s eyes slowly turn to the ceiling again. For a moment, a deep sadness passes across its face.

  ‘So many of my children gone forever,’ the entity muses. ‘I suppose you would be the Loric Elders now, if such a thing still exists.’

  ‘We’re Garde,’ I say, correcting this billion-year-old godlike energy force, because what the hell, we’ve come this far. ‘We’re here for your help.’

  The entity actually chuckles. ‘It does not matter to me, daughter. Elders, Garde, Cêpan – these words are how the Loric chose to understand my gifts. It does not have to be that way here. It does not have to be any way.’ The entity pauses thoughtfully. ‘As for help, I do not know what I can offer, child.’

  More confusion, more riddles. I didn’t think coming to the Sanctuary would go like Nine had joked – that we’d unleash some massive power that would wipe out all the Mogadorians. But I expected to find something that could help. Our friends could be dying right now in the first wave of a Mogadorian invasion, and I’m down here making small talk with an annoyingly mysterious immortal.

  ‘That’s not good enough,’ I say.

  Frustrated, I take a step towards the entity. Energy crackles around me and I feel my hair stand up from static.

  ‘Six,’ Adam whispers, ‘be careful.’

  I ignore him, raising my voice to yell at the all-powerful Lorien. ‘We’ve come far to awaken you! We’ve lost friends! You have to be able to do something. Or are you cool if Setrákus Ra just marches down here and destroys this planet?
Kills everyone on it? You’re going to let that happen twice on your watch?’

  The entity’s brow furrows. A crack opens in the skin on Eight’s forehead, and energy begins to spill forth. Marina covers her mouth but manages not to cry out. It’s like Eight’s body is hollow inside and the energy is gradually breaking it down.

  ‘I am sorry, daughter,’ Eight says to Marina. ‘This form cannot hold me for long.’

  Then, the entity turns back to me. There’s no sign that my words have offended it, or had any effect at all. Its voice is as melodic and patient as ever.

  ‘I do not condone the senseless destruction of life,’ the entity explains. ‘But I do not choose fates. I do not judge. If it is the will of the universe that I cease to be, then I will cease. I exist merely to bestow my gifts upon those who are open to them.’

  I spread my arms. ‘I’m open to them. Load me up. Give me enough Legacies to destroy Setrákus Ra and his fleet and I’ll leave your glowing ass alone.’

  The entity smiles at me. More cracks form along the backs of Eight’s hands. The energy is escaping.

  ‘It does not work that way,’ it intones.

  ‘Then how the hell does it work?’ I shout. ‘Tell us what to do!’

  ‘There is nothing left to do, daughter. You have woken me and restored my strength. I am of the Earth now, and so are my gifts.’

  ‘But how will that help us win?’ I yell. ‘What was all this shit for?’

  The entity ignores me. I guess that’s all the wisdom it’s willing to impart. Instead, it gazes upon Marina.

  ‘He won’t have long, daughter.’

  ‘Who won’t?’ she replies, puzzled.

  Without another word, the entity’s eyes close and Eight’s body begins to tremble. To my surprise, the energy actually recedes from his body. The cracks along the backs of his hands stop glowing and close up, as does the one that opened across his forehead. After a few seconds, the only thing left glowing on Eight is the wound over his heart. He floats out of the column of energy and ends up right in front of Marina.

  When Eight opens his eyes, they don’t glow. They’re green, just like I remember them, serene, but with a spark of that old mischief. Eight’s lips curl into a slow smile as he sees Marina.