‘You have been led astray!’ Setrákus Ra screams, pointing his now empty hands at Nine and John.
‘These boys are fugitives! Terrorists from my home world! I don’t know what they’ve told you –’
‘We haven’t told them anything,’ John says, interrupting. His voice doesn’t carry like Setrákus
Ra’s, but people in the crowd crane their necks to listen. ‘We’ll let them make up their own minds. A
genocidal maniac is easy to spot.’
‘Lies!’
Do it now! I urge Nine telepathically.
‘I wonder what will happen if I do this?’ Nine asks, fiddling with Setrákus Ra’s cane. Before
Setrákus Ra can lunge in his direction, Nine raises the cane over his head and smashes it down on the
stage. The obsidian eye in its center explodes in a cloud of ash.
Things happen quickly after that.
Setrákus Ra’s body begins to thrash and spasm. The handsome human form he’s been so attached to
begins to slough off him, like a snake shedding its skin. The real Setrákus Ra – pale verging on
bloodless, ancient and hideous, tattooed across his bald skull, a thick scar around his neck, clad in
spiky Mogadorian armor – stands revealed on the stage.
Many in the crowd scream. Even more recoil in horror and turn to run. A gunshot goes off – I hear
the bullet whistle past my ear before it ricochets harmlessly off the Mogadorian ship behind me. The
gunshots only frighten people more and now it’s a full-blown stampede in front of the stage. More
shots are fired, this time into the air. One of the agents taking aim on Setrákus Ra goes down, bull-
rushed by the terrified spectators.
It’s chaos.
With a monstrous howl, Setrákus Ra grows to fifteen feet in size. The stage beneath us groans. The
old man who was onstage with the Garde tries to run into the crowd, but Setrákus Ra grabs him with
his telekinesis and hurls him like a missile into Nine. The two of them fall off the stage in a heap.
Fireballs come to life in John’s hands. They go out immediately as Setrákus Ra triggers his
Dreynen field. That doesn’t stop John from charging in, pulling his Loric dagger out of his sheath as
he comes.
‘Yes!’ Setrákus Ra screams, beckoning John in. ‘Come racing towards your death, boy!’
Unaffected by Setrákus Ra’s version of Dreynen, I pick up a broken piece of his cane. My fingers
are clumsy and I nearly drop it twice before I’m able to grasp it tightly enough. I concentrate, ignore the shredding pain under my skin and charge the shrapnel with my Dreynen.
When the broken shard glows bright red, I jab it into the back of Setrákus Ra’s leg.
The Mogadorian overlord cries out and shrinks down to his normal size. I sense the Dreynen field
canceling Legacies lift. Too late, Setrákus Ra stumbles forward in a futile attempt to get away from
me. The Dreynen-charged cane is buried an inch deep in the back of his calf. When Setrákus Ra yanks
it out, a trickle of night-black blood darkens his trouser leg. Now that it’s off him, I’m not sure how long the effects of my Dreynen will last.
Wait a second. He’s bleeding. The damage wasn’t transferred to me. Every charm has a weakness,
that’s what Setrákus Ra said right before he burned the terrible thing into my ankle.
I can hurt him. I’m the only one who can hurt Setrákus Ra.
I barely have time to process this information before Setrákus Ra rounds on me, his eyes wide with
outrage. He backhands me, hard, and I’m tossed into the air. The wind goes out of me when I hit the
stage, my head swimming again. He must’ve known that even if I figured out the loophole with the
Mogadorian charm, I wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him.
Setrákus Ra stands over me, his hideous features creased with fury. He reaches down, fingers
grasping for my throat.
‘You treasonous little bi –!’
John barrels into him shoulder-first and knocks Setrákus Ra off his feet. Setrákus Ra lands hard on
his side and I feel bruises puff up immediately on my own elbow. I accept the pain. There’s more to
come.
I’m not strong enough to fight him, but I’ve done my part. I drained his Legacies.
Now, the others can do what has to be done.
John doesn’t let up. He pounces on Setrákus Ra, who tries to scramble away. The Mogadorian
ruler doesn’t look so frightening now, trying to crab walk away from John. I’m happy to see him so
pathetic and desperate. He should know how that feels before he dies.
Before we die.
John manages to straddle him. He raises his dagger above his head. I take a deep breath and brace
myself.
‘This is for Lorien! And for Earth!’
I know what happens next. John will stab Setrákus Ra, and I’ll die. It will break the Mogadorian
charm, and then the Garde will be able to kill Setrákus Ra for real. It’s worth it. I’ll gladly die if it means ending Setrákus Ra’s miserable life.
Do it! I scream at John telepathically. No matter what happens! Do it!
As John brings his dagger down, I hear a whooshing sound. Something is flying in this direction.
Fast.
A bead of blood tickles my throat, a small cut opening up. That’s how close John’s blade comes
before a chrome-plated cannonball flies through the air, knocks him off Setrákus Ra and sends him
crashing through the stage.
Five. He’s alive and he just saved my life.
Saved my life and doomed us all.
Before I can react, the stage creaks and collapses. I slide down the tilted piece of wood and land
hard on the pavement below. All around me, people are running and screaming.
Setrákus Ra lands next to me.
He reaches down and grabs me by the hair, yanking me viciously to my feet.
‘You’ll die for this embarrassment, child,’ he snarls, and begins dragging me over the wrecked
stage towards his ship.
Nine stands in his way.
2 8
My shoulder is dislocated, that much I know for sure. I’m on my back with jagged pieces of the
destroyed stage digging into me. I’m seeing double and it’s hard to breathe. I feel like I just got hit by a car.
Not a car. Five.
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!’