The Fate of Ten

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHEN ELLA SPEAKS, A JOLT PASSES THROUGH me. Suddenly, I can move again. I leap up from my operating table and try to shove the Mogadorian doctors surrounding Ella.

My hands pass right through them, like they’re ghosts. They’re frozen in space now, unmoving, the moment a snapshot before me. I need to remind myself that this is all happening inside my head, or Ella’s head, or somewhere in between. In our dreams.

“Don’t worry about them,” Ella says. She sits up, passing through the ooze machine that’s attached to her chest, and then the Mogs as she hops down from her table. “I can’t even feel what they’re doing to me.”

“Ella . . .” I don’t even know where to begin. Sorry for letting you be kidnapped back in Chicago, sorry for not saving you in New York . . .

She hugs me, her small face pressed into my chest. That much feels real, at least.

“It’s okay, John,” she says. Her voice is almost serene, like someone who has accepted her fate. “It isn’t your fault.”

There’s the Ella I’m hugging and then there’s the Ella frozen in time, still pinned down to the operating table beneath the Mogadorian machines, surrounded by enemies. I can’t help looking past the Ella in my arms and staring at the horrific results of her Mogadorian imprisonment. She looks pale and drained, streaks of gray running through her auburn hair. There are already black veins visible beneath her skin. A chill runs through me and I force myself to look away, squeezing Ella a little tighter.

The hug ends and Ella peers up at me. This version of her looks almost as I remember—wide-eyed and innocent—although there’s a tiredness around her eyes, a kind of weary wisdom, that wasn’t there the last time I saw her. I can’t imagine what she’s been through.

“What are they doing to you?” I ask, my voice quiet.

“Setrákus Ra calls it his Gift,” Ella says, her lips curling in disgust. She looks over her shoulder, watching herself get experimented upon, and hugs herself. “The stuff he’s putting into me, I’m not sure where it comes from. It’s the same weirdo genetic crap he grows the vatborn warriors from. It’s the stuff he used to augment some of the humans—you know about that?”

I nod, thinking of Secretary of Defense Sanderson and the cancerous resistance I felt in his body when I healed him.

“He’s doing it to you. His own—” I still hesitate to say this part out loud. “His own flesh and blood.”

Ella nods sadly. “For the second time.”

I remember how out of it Ella seemed during the battle at the United Nations. “He did it to you before the big public appearance,” I say, putting the pieces together. “Drugged you up so you couldn’t ruin his moment.”

“It was punishment for trying to escape with Five. The Gift . . . it makes it hard for me to focus, at least when I’m awake. I’m not sure how, but he uses it to control me. It could be related to one of his Legacies. I tried to figure out everything he can do, John, I tried to stop him, but . . .”

Ella’s shoulders slump. I place my hand gently on the back of her neck.

“You did everything you could,” I tell her.

She snorts. “Uh-huh.”

I take a long look at the machine Ella’s hooked up to, trying to memorize the details. Maybe if we ever manage to hook back up with Adam, he can shed some light on how exactly this thing works.

“He’s not controlling you now,” I say, gesturing around to the frozen-in-time Mogadorian operating theater. “You’re doing this. You’re still fighting him.”

“I’ve been able to hide that I’m telepathic,” Ella replies, straightening up a bit. “Whenever he hurts me, I hide inside my own mind. I practice. My Legacies are getting stronger. I could sense you down there from on board the Anubis. I was able to pull you into my, um . . . my dream? Whatever this is.”

“Just like in Chicago,” I muse, trying to work this out. “Only, you needed to touch me that time.”

“Not anymore. I guess I’m getting stronger.”

I give Ella’s shoulder a squeeze. This should be a proud moment, her coming into her own, learning to master such a powerful Legacy when she’s still so young. But our situation is too dire for any real congratulations.

I look across the medical bay towards the door, then back at Ella.

“Can you show me around?” I ask. “Is that even possible?”

Ella manages a shaky smile. “You want the tour?”

“It might come in handy to know what the ship’s like. For when I get up here and rescue you.”

Ella lets out a mirthless laugh, looking away from me. I hope that she hasn’t given up hope. The odds might seem bad now, but I won’t let her stay Setrákus Ra’s pet grandchild forever. I will find a way. Before I can tell her all that, Ella nods.

“I can show you around. I’ve been all over this ship. If I’ve seen it, then it’s stored up here,” Ella says, tapping her temple.

We step out of the medical bay and into the hallway. It’s all stainless metal walls lit by dull red lighting, a cold and economical place. Ella leads me through the Anubis, showing me the observation deck, the control room, the barracks, all these areas completely empty. I try to commit every detail to memory so that I can draw a map when I wake up.

“Where are all the Mogs?” I ask her.

“Most of them are down in the city. The Anubis only has a skeleton crew now.”

“Good to know.”

Deep down in the ship, we pause in front of a glass window that looks into another laboratory. Inside, the floor is completely taken up by a vat of viscous black liquid. There are two catwalks crisscrossing over the vat, each one equipped with a variety of control panels, monitoring equipment and, oddly enough, heavy-duty mounted blasters. Growing out of the liquid is an oblong shape that vaguely resembles an egg, except it’s covered in dark purple mold and throbbing black veins.

I press my hand to the laboratory glass and turn to Ella. “What the hell is this place?”

“I don’t know,” she replies. “He doesn’t let me in there. But . . .”

Ella knuckles her forehead and appears to strain for a moment. Inside the laboratory, figures suddenly manifest. A half-dozen Mogs wearing gas masks stand on the catwalks, silently operating the strange machines. Standing among them is Setrákus Ra himself. Seeing him there causes me to flinch towards the glass. I have to resist the urge to attack him, reminding myself that this isn’t exactly real.

“Is this . . . is this a memory?” I ask Ella.

“Something I saw, yeah,” she answers. “I think—I don’t know. It might be important.”

As we watch, Setrákus Ra lifts his stolen Loric pendants over his head. He holds them in his thick hands for a moment, considering the blue Loralite jewels. He’s got several of them—three from the Garde he killed and the rest were probably taken from the Garde he captured at one point or another. He seems almost nostalgic for a moment as he gazes upon his trophies.

Then, he drops them into the vat. Four tiny little mouths open up on the egg and suck in the pendants, smothering their glow.

“What was that?” I ask Ella, feeling like I might be sick even in this dream state. “When did this happen? What’s he doing?”

Setrákus Ra’s gaze suddenly shoots towards us and he shouts something. A second later, he and the rest of the Mogs disappear back into thin air.

“That’s when he caught me spying,” Ella explains, biting her lip. “I don’t know what he was doing, John. I’m sorry. Everything’s a bit . . . fuzzy.”

We move on. Eventually, Ella brings me to the docking bay. It’s a huge area with high ceilings, filled by row after row of Skimmers. It’s from here that the squadrons of Mogs currently terrorizing New York City first took flight.

“They’re always coming and going from here,” Ella says, waving at the big metal doors at the end of the docking bay. “You might be able to get in through there, if they’re open. It’s where Five and I tried to escape from.”

I make a note of the docking bay doors. We’d just have to figure out a way to make the Mogs open them up. It’d be pretty easy to get on board if we had someone who could fly us up there.

“About Five . . . ,” I say, hesitating, not sure how much Ella has heard. “Do you know what he did?”

Ella bites her lip, looking down at the floor. “He murdered Eight.”

“But he also tried to help you escape,” I say, feeling her out. “Is he . . . ?”

“You’re trying to figure out how evil he is?”

“I’m looking for him right now. I’m trying to figure out, when I find him, if I should kill him.”

Ella frowns and walks away from me, looking at a dented spot on the floor. I assume it’s from when she and Five tried to escape.

“He’s confused,” she says after a moment. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know what he’ll do. Don’t trust him, John. But don’t kill him.”

I remember the last time Ella sucked me into one of these dream states, back when her Legacy was first manifesting and out of control. It was back in Chicago. That time, she didn’t bring me to her present location. Instead, we were trapped in a vision of the future, watching Setrákus Ra lord over the people of Washington in a world where the Mogadorians had won the war.

“Don’t we know what he does, though?” I ask, my fists clenching on reflex. “You showed it to me. Five goes back to Setrákus Ra. He works for the enemy. He captures Six and Sam . . .”

I trail off, not wanting to further dredge up the memory of witnessing my friends’ execution. I don’t want to remember that doomed prophecy of how we’re going to lose. Ella shakes her head. She opens her mouth, and suddenly I realize that there’s something big she isn’t telling me.

“That future doesn’t exist anymore, John,” she says after a lengthy pause. “My visions . . . they aren’t like the nightmares Setrákus Ra used to give you guys. And they aren’t prophecies. We aren’t locked into them, like Eight thought. They’re premonitions. Possibilities.”

“How do you know that?”

Ella thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. How do you know how to make fireballs? You just do. It’s instinct.”

I take a step towards her. “So that vision of D.C., where everyone was dead and you were . . . ?”

“I can’t see it anymore. Something in the present changed what will happen.”

“If it’s a Legacy like my Lumen . . .” My eyes widen as I consider the possibilities. “Can you control the visions now? Can you look into the future at will?”

Ella’s eyebrows are scrunched, like she’s not sure how to describe what she’s seen. “I can’t control it exactly. The visions . . . they aren’t reliable. I don’t know if that’s because of me, because I’m just learning or if it’s because the future is so unstable. Either way, I’ve spent a lot of time searching through them . . .”

Now I know why Ella looks so exhausted even in this dream space, why she’s suddenly so wise beyond her years. She mentioned before how much time she’s spent hiding in the safety of her own mind. I wonder how much of that time was spent wrestling with visions of the future. It must be agonizing to sift through all those possibilities.

“What have you been searching for?” I ask her.

Ella hesitates, avoiding my eyes. “I wanted . . . I wanted to see if there was a future where I die.”

“Ella, no,” I say, my voice sharp. Five told me about the twisted Loric Charm that Setrákus Ra used on himself and Ella, the one that binds them together so we’ll have to kill her to get at him. “We’ll figure out a way to break the charm. There’s gotta be a weakness.”

Ella shakes her head, not believing me. Or maybe already knowing that I’m wrong.

“I’m not putting myself before the whole world, John. I wanted to see a future where Setrákus Ra is killed, no matter the consequences.” Now she looks right at me, fire in her eyes. “I wanted to see a future where someone has the guts to do what needs to be done.”

I swallow hard. I’m not sure if I really want to know the details of Ella’s visions, but I can’t stop myself from asking.

“What . . . what did you see?”

“Lots of things,” Ella says, calming down. She gets a distant look in her eyes as she tries to explain what seeing the future is like. “The visions start out as blurry possibilities. There are millions of them, I think. Some of them are more solid than others—those are the ones I can see. The ones that seem . . . I dunno. Likely? But even that’s not a guarantee. You remember that future we saw in Chicago. It felt real, impossible to escape, clear as day. It’s gone completely now. The future has changed too much. And it keeps changing.”

My head hurts. I feel half crazy just listening to Ella. We need a Cêpan, someone who could help her get control of these mental Legacies before they drive her insane. At least we’ve avoided the bleak future I witnessed. But what did we trade it for?

“Ella, did you see yourself die?”

She hesitates, and a knot of dread tightens in my stomach.

“Yes,” she says. Her body shakes and I realize it’s from holding in a sob. I crouch down in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders.

“It won’t happen,” I insist, my voice as firm as I can make it. “We’ll change the future.”

“But we win, John.”

Ella grabs my hands. Tears stream freely down her cheeks. I realize something, the way she’s looking at me, the way she’s squeezing my hands. Ella’s not feeling sorry for herself.

She’s feeling sorry for me.

“It’s going to hurt you so much, John,” she says, her voice cracking. “You have to be strong.”

“It’s me?” I don’t believe it. “Am I the one that—?”

I can’t even finish the question. I yank my hands away from Ella. I’d never hurt her, not even if it meant ending this war.

“There has to be another way,” I say. “Use your Legacy and find us a better future.”

Ella shakes her head. “You don’t understand—”

In the blink of an eye, Ella is changed. She looks like the girl stretched out on the operating table, black ooze worming its way beneath her skin. She struggles to focus on me. The docking bay around us gets weirdly hazy and starts melting away.

“Ella? What’s happening?”

“The Anubis is moving out of range,” she says, narrowing her eyes, trying to strengthen our telepathic connection. “I’m going to lose you. Quick! There’s one more thing you have to see!”

Ella snatches my hand and then we’re running towards the docking bay entrance. We step through it and—

Dirt crunches beneath my feet. Hot sun beams down on the back of my neck, the air sticky and humid. It’s disorienting to be suddenly transported from the sterile gloom of the Anubis into the heat of the jungle, vivid green on all sides, tropical birds loudly chirping. I’m standing on what looks to be an airstrip carved into the jungle. The black-armored hulls of a handful of Mogadorian Skimmers reflect the bright afternoon sun.

My eyes are drawn to the limestone pyramid that stands a few yards away from the airstrip, all the Mog gear seemingly positioned at a safe distance from the ancient structure. I instinctually recognize the temple, even though I’ve never actually seen it before. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it feels as if something buried within the centuries-old Mayan architecture is calling out to me. I feel safe here.

“This is the Sanctuary,” I say, my voice quiet and reverent.

“Yeah,” Ella says, and I notice that she’s also admiring the temple.

“Six, Marina and Adam . . .” I pause, realizing that Ella’s never met our Mogadorian ally. “Adam is a—”

“I know who he is,” Ella says, her tone giving nothing away. “We meet soon.”

“Okay, well, they were just here,” I continue, looking around for signs of our friends. “They’re probably headed back by now. Are you going to show me what they did to give the humans Legacies?”

“This isn’t the past or present, John. We’re in the future. One that I can see very, very clearly.”

I should’ve known that since the sun is out. I turn to face Ella, sensing that she hasn’t brought me here to deliver good news.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because of that.”

Ella points into the sky to the north of the Sanctuary. There, like a storm cloud rolling across the otherwise blue and cloudless sky, is the Anubis, slowly floating towards the temple. My legs jerk, reflexes still keyed to run for cover after I narrowly survived the bombardment in New York. I force myself to stay put and watch the warship approach.

“When?” I ask Ella. “When does this happen?”

Before Ella can answer, her form contorts, again turning pale and black-veined. The scenery flashes, the jungle suddenly overlapping with the Anubis operating room and also with what looks to be the inside of a subway car—all three places existing simultaneously, like three transparent pictures laid on top of one another. For a second, it’s impossible for me to focus on any particular detail, everything blending to the point where I feel unmoored from reality. But then Ella cries out, either from frustration or pain or both, and the jungle and the Sanctuary solidify once again.

“You’re pushing yourself,” I say, watching as dark circles form around her eyes. “We’re getting too far apart.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she replies hurriedly. “Doesn’t matter. This is where we’re going now, John. The Anubis is leaving for the Sanctuary right this second.”

“So Setrákus Ra will get there . . .”

“He’ll get there at sunset,” Ella says. “He stops in West Virginia to gather reinforcements after leaving so many warriors behind in New York, and then . . .”

Ella waves towards the Anubis. It’s closer now, the warship’s long shadow falling across the stones of the Sanctuary.

“What does he want?”

“He wants what’s inside!” Ella shouts. And yet, even though her voice is raised, she’s beginning to sound farther away. “I think it’s what he always wanted! They opened the door to the Sanctuary! It isn’t protected anymore!”

“What do—?”

She cuts me off, grabbing my arm. “John, listen! Six, the others, you have to warn them! Tell them—”

Ella’s hands pass through me. I see it all again—the Sanctuary and the Anubis, Ella squirming on the operating table, the darkened subway car—and then all the colors blend together, nothing solid to grab on to. Ella screams something at me, but she’s too far away. The words don’t reach me.

Then, darkness.