‘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.’
1 8
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.’