The Fallen Legacies

CHAPTER 9

Hilde and One hide out in an abandoned stilt house on the Rajang River, their closest neighbors the endlessly screeching monkeys that populate the jungle. Hilde is planning a trip into Kuala Lumpur, where she’ll take some money out of their bank account, enough to finance their next move. It’s peaceful, without any of the distractions of America. When the river is clear, One practices her telekinesis on its bank.

By the time our team arrives-after an endless flight through who knows how many time zones-I’ve completely lost track of what day it is. All I know is that the sun is beginning to rise.

Hilde hears the first wave coming. Our soldiers don’t make any effort to hide their approach; they have the house surrounded. Hilde shakes Number One awake just as the warriors kick in the door.

The Cepan moves fast for an old woman. It’s easy to see her as the great martial artist, trainer of young Garde, that she was on Lorien. She ducks effortlessly under a dagger strike, burying her fist in the throat of an off-balance warrior. Before the first Mogadorian even hits the ground, Hilde has wrapped her arms around the head of a second, snapping his neck. I catch myself cheering her on, then stop myself.

The next Mogadorian through the door dives for Hilde and places her in a headlock; but Hilde, in a movement so subtle I barely even see it, manages to turn his hold against him, flipping him onto his back even though he’s twice her size.

That’s when he whips his blaster from his holster, and-orders not to harm her suddenly forgotten in his humiliation-fires it right at her chest.

When Hilde hits the ground, One screams. The entire house wobbles, its stilts suddenly vibrating. Screaming out in grief and agony, One stomps the floor. A seismic wave erupts from her foot, tearing up the floorboards and sending the Mogadorians flying through the tightly woven sticks of the stilt house’s walls.

Her first Legacy has developed. Too late.

The little that’s left of the house is listing on its stilts. With the Mogadorians regrouping outside, One cradles Hilde in her arms. The wound is fatal. Hilde spits a bubble of blood when she tries to speak.

“It’s not too late for you,” Hilde manages to say. “You have to run.”

One is crying. She feels responsible; she feels helpless.

“I failed you,” sobs One.

“Not yet you haven’t,” replies Hilde. “Go. Now.”

I’m standing right next her, willing her to move, even though I know what’s waiting for her on the riverbank. The ghost-One, the dead girl who’s been my companion through all of these memories, has abandoned me now. She’s been gone since the airport.

One hesitates for an instant at Hilde’s order, and then, knowing it’s her only choice, flings herself through one of the windows just as the stilts buckle and the house finally collapses into the river. The Mogadorians meet her on the riverbank.

The house’s falling ceiling passes harmlessly through me. I watch as One produces another seismic burst, experimenting with her newfound power, and the wet ground of the riverbank opens up to swallow a pair of advancing Mogadorians.

I remember this. I peer down the riverbank, wondering if she could have seen me where I stood watching with Ivan and my father. No. I was too far away, her attention too focused on the battle around her.

I should be enjoying this, a chance to replay this great victory up close and personal. There’s nothing someone like Ivan wouldn’t give to be able to witness this again. It’s like a highlight reel of Mogadorian dominance. Yet I want to turn away. I was ashamed to admit it the first time, but not now. This battle-one unarmed teenager against two dozen highly trained Mogadorians-repulses me.

Of course, One isn’t completely defenseless. The ground around her continues to shake, leaving the Mogadorians stumbling and off balance. She picks up some sharp sections of the broken house with her telekinesis and lances them through the nearest Mogadorians. The hit warriors disintegrate into ash and are lost in the muddy river water.

I feel nothing for the dead soldiers. We are taught about acceptable losses. These strike teams are expendable.

One is pushing herself too hard. Her newly discovered Legacy is barely under control, her telekinesis sloppy from months of blowing off training. She is already close to exhaustion, and the Mogadorians just keep coming. Finally one of the largest vat-born warriors manages to evade her defensive attacks and grab her from behind, yanking both of her arms behind her back to restrain her. As he does it, One yelps in pain just before she manages to slip from his grasp.

It wasn’t a loud scream-probably more a cry of surprise than one of injury-but it’s enough for the Mogadorians to understand. They’ve hurt her. She can be hurt.

And then things change. I know the Mogadorian training well enough to see the soldiers’ strategy shift instantly. They know it’s her. The First. Number One. She can be killed. And every single one of them wants to be the one to do it.

One’s in such a panic, fighting blindly, that she never even notices the Mogadorian warrior who manages to grab that particular glory. I don’t know the warrior’s name; he’s just another faceless trooper under my father’s command. He approaches her from behind, his glowing sword drawn. He takes his time, plotting his steps carefully across the vibrating ground.

When he’s close enough, the warrior lunges, burying his sword in One’s back, the blade emerging from her abdomen. From this moment on, he will be a hero to my people.

Maybe the only good thing about death is that you never have to relive it. You never have to remember the pain. Except, One does. Though she’d been gone since the airport, ghost-One is suddenly next to me again. She’s hunched and sobbing, her mind crying out to mine through the link we share. She can feel herself dying.

Her mind throbs with pain and fear. As it does, I feel the mental block she’d been maintaining crumble and fall, just like the walls of the stilt house. She’s lost control over her memories.

Now is my chance to return to the Loric airstrip, to see the identities of the other Garde.

As Number One’s body slips lifeless to the ground, everything begins to blur again, like it did when I first entered One’s memories. Only now, I’m in control. I cycle backward through her memories, knowing exactly what I want to see.