‘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.

‘Wow, hi,’ Eight says, and when he speaks it’s with his own voice.

It’s him. It’s really him.

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Marina nearly doubles over with a delighted sob. She collects herself quickly, though, and grabs Eight first by the shoulders, then on the sides of his face. She pulls him in close.

‘You’re warm,’ she says in wonder. ‘You’re so warm.’

Eight laughs easily. He puts his hand over Marina’s and gently kisses the side of it.

‘You’re warm, too,’ he says.

‘I’m so sorry, Eight. I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you.’

Eight shakes his head. ‘Stop, Marina. It’s okay. You brought me here. It’s – I can’t even describe it. It’s amazing in there.’

Already, I see the energy spreading outward from Eight’s heart. It races through his body, fissures opening on his arms and legs. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain. He just smiles at Marina and looks at her like he’s trying to memorize her face.

‘Can I kiss you?’ Marina asks him.

‘I really wish you would.’

Marina kisses him, pressing in close, squeezing him. As she does, the energy swells up from within Eight and, slowly, his body begins to break apart. It’s different from when a Mogadorian disintegrates. It’s as if, for a moment, I can see every cell in Eight’s body and see how the energy from the well glows in between each of them. One by one, those pieces of Eight dissolve, and he becomes one with the light. Marina tries to cling to him, but her fingers pass right through the energy.

And then, he’s gone. The light flows back to the well and recedes deep under the ground. The heartbeat we triggered grows fainter. I can still hear it, but only if I really listen. The chamber is peaceful again, lit only by the glowing Loralite carvings on the wall. I feel fresh air on my back and turn around to see that a door has opened up in the wall. It leads to a staircase, sunlight coming in from the outside.

Marina collapses against me, a sobbing wreck. I hug her close and try not to break down myself. Adam watches us without staring too hard and wipes at something in the corner of his eye.

‘We should go,’ Adam says quietly. ‘The others will need our help.’

I nod at him. I wonder if we even accomplished anything down here. It was beautiful seeing Eight again, even for a few fleeting moments. Yet my conversation with the intergalactic entity that grants us our Legacies sure didn’t yield a lot of answers. Meanwhile, the time until a Mogadorian invasion is probably running out, if it hasn’t already.

Marina squeezes my arm. I look down at her.

‘I saw it, Six,’ Marina whispers to me. ‘When I kissed him, I saw inside the thing – Lorien, the energy, whatever you want to call it.’

‘Okay,’ I say, wanting to be gentle with her, but not sure we have time for this. ‘And?’

Marina grins at me. ‘It’s spreading, Six. Through the Earth. It’s spreading everywhere.’

‘What does that mean?’ Adam asks.

‘It means,’ Marina says, wiping her face and standing up straight, ‘that we aren’t alone anymore.’

30

Skyscrapers burn.

We run.

The Mogadorian warship crawls across New York’s skyline, its massive energy cannons bombarding the blocks indiscriminately. The warship already disgorged dozens of armed scout ships, the smaller vessels zipping up and down the avenues, ferrying warriors to the ground, where they blast whatever civilians they come across.

Other things leaped down from the ship, too. Hungry, angry things. I haven’t seen any yet; I’ve only heard their terrible howls rising above the explosions.

Piken.

New York City is lost, that much I know for sure. There’s no turning back the Mogadorians at this point. I have no idea how the other cities where Mogadorian warships were spotted are doing. The network is down in New York, and my satellite phone sunk to the bottom of the East River.

All we can do is run. Just like I’ve been doing my entire life. Except now, unfortunately, there are a million people running with me.

‘Run!’ I shout at anyone we come across. ‘Run until you can’t see their ships! Survive, regroup and we will fight them!’

Sam is with me. His face is ashen and he looks like he’s going to be sick. He never saw what the Mogadorians did to Lorien. He’s been through some hard times with us, but never anything like this. I think he always believed that we would win. He never thought this day would come.




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