Lorien Legacies: The Lost Files (79 page)

Calm down?
Is he joking?

“Breathe, Cody,” he says.

I almost shout “You know that’s
not
my name” but stop myself.

The maid reappears. She hands a little black bag to Ethan. He says something back to her that I don’t hear while I continue to have the panic attack to end all panic attacks.

He pulls out a little vial of something from the bag. He snaps it in two and holds it up to my face.

“What—” I start.

“Just something to help you relax,” he says.

Some kind of white smoke drifts out of the vial and I start to feel light and dizzy.

“There you go,” Ethan says.

He grabs my hand to help me to my feet, and I don’t know if it’s the weird smoke or touching real human flesh, but suddenly I’m me again—flesh and bone and not looking like some kind of gold robot.

Before I know it I find it hard to think of anything—to even
feel
anything—and all I see is black.

When I wake up, I expect to be restrained or locked up somehow, but I’m still just lying on top of the covers. The window is even open. My duffel bag is on the bed beside me, my Loric Chest still inside.

Ethan sits in a chair at the foot of the bed.

“Good afternoon,” he says. There’s hesitancy in his voice, like he’s unsure how to act. Or how
I’ll
act.

I glance around, looping my arm through the straps of my bag.

“What did you give me?” I ask, thinking back to the strange white smoke.

“Nothing harmful,” Ethan says. “Just a little tranquilizer. I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself if you didn’t stop changing.”

My heart starts beating furiously as I remember the feeling of breaking apart on the beach.

“No,” Ethan says in his most authoritative voice. “Calm down. Breathe deeply. You don’t want to start morphing again.”

I nod, trying to focus on taking long, slow breaths. There’s a residual numbness from whatever the drug was. I feel alert and focused, but relaxed.

Ethan’s eyebrows knit together. Either he’s genuinely worried about me or he’s a really great actor. I’m not sure which is the case at this point. He throws his hands out to his sides.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he says. “It’s just you and me.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe you.”

“It’s important to them that you come of your own free will. That only makes sense. The Mogadorians don’t want someone they’ve forced to rule. They want someone who
wants
to be a part of their cause.”

“Free will?” I mutter. “That’s what you call all the lies you’ve told me?”

Ethan frowns.

I grip the handles of the duffel bag. I can be out the window in an instant if I need to be. But a huge part of me really wants to talk to Ethan, to find out why he’s done these things. To answer all the questions welling up inside me.

“Was Emma in on this?”

“Emma,” Ethan says with a frown. “No, she didn’t know anything that was going on. The men who attacked you at the warehouse
were
staged, but I honestly had no idea her brother would be one of them. They were just lackeys. I believe her family has moved to Tampa since you’ve been here. We keep tabs on them. I could have her brought here if you wanted.”

“No,” I say. All that means is that her hatred of me—her calling me a freak—was real. She was not really my friend. I wonder if that’s how all humans react to Legacies and superpowers like mine.

“You found Emma yourself. All I did was nudge you. Hell, all I did was show up on the beach and give you an opportunity. You came to us. You just didn’t know who we were.” He leans in a little. “Think about it. The Loric never gave you the choice we’re giving you. They put a spell on you and sent you away. They told you who you had to be. All I’m offering you is another way. A
better
way.”

“What about the other Garde?”

He shrugs.

“Maybe they’ll learn to see reason too.”

“And if I leave?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” Ethan says, looking very serious. “The last thing I want is for you to be hurt. But once you leave I can’t protect you any longer. If you turn down this offer, you’re the enemy. You won’t even be safe here. You’ve probably guessed it by now, but this isn’t
my
house. The Mogadorians arranged for it.”

“If I leave, you’ve failed your mission, haven’t you?” I ask.

Ethan nods. I know what this means. I’ve heard enough stories about the ruthlessness of the Mogs to know that they don’t tolerate failures. If I leave, Ethan is probably as good as dead.

I stare at him. Everything has happened so fast. Everything’s
changed
so quickly.

“I know you, Five,” Ethan says. “How good it makes you feel to be in control and respected. You can feel like that forever when you’re ruling with the Mogs. I’ve seen their power. It’s amazing. And they want you to be a part of it. They want you to be on their side, be
one
of them.”

“Everything out there can be yours,” I say, quoting Ethan’s favorite motto.

“Everything,” he says.

I close my eyes. It’s all too much to take in. But what Ethan says makes sense. At least, mostly.

The Elders left me with a dying old man to protect me. The Mogs built me up and gave me anything I wanted.
Groomed
me.
They’re
the ones who have shown me the most respect in my lifetime.

They’re the ones who can keep me alive.

I think of the other Garde. What easy lives they’ve probably had. Competent Cêpans. Homes in cities. One day in the future they will likely look at me and tell me that I’ve betrayed them. But who knows? Maybe they’ll see reason. If I can just talk to them, maybe they’ll start to see things differently. Why should we be hunted down like animals when we could be rulers? The humans don’t have powers like ours. They think we’re freaks. Monsters. We could show them what we truly are together.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “What do we do now?”

Relief washes over Ethan’s face, and his smile erupts again, the one I know so well by now.

“I’ll let them know,” he says. “Get your things together. They’ll want to talk with you as soon as possible.”

I nod, and head to the stairs.

“Hey.” Ethan turns back to me before leaving. “I’m proud of you. You’re doing the right thing. You’re doing the
smart
thing. That’s the biggest test of all.”

I move as if in a daze. My body functions, but it’s as if someone else is controlling it. I wonder briefly if I’m in shock. That’s what they always say on TV when someone’s been through something crazy like this.

“We’re heading up north,” Ethan yells from the stairs. “Grab a coat.”

I pull some cold-weather clothes out of the back of my closet—stuff Ethan bought me a while ago that I’ve never had reason to wear. Then I head for the door.

I pause and then turn back. I pick up my duffel bag and take my Loric Chest out, placing it on the bed. All the useless stuff is still there. I run my fingers over the items before picking up the hidden blade.

It might be smart to keep this handy, just in case we run into trouble.

I slip the bracer on over my hand and wrist, and then put a glove on over it.

Just in case we run into trouble.

There’s a chopping noise coming from outside my window. I look out and see a black helicopter landing on the sprawling yard of the house.

W
E’RE IN THE HELICOPTER FOR WHAT SEEMS
like a long time. It’s small, but fast. I don’t know who the pilot is and I don’t ask. All I know is that we have to wear these big noise-canceling headphones with radios built into them, and that’s the only way the three of us—me, Ethan, and the pilot—can talk to one another. None of us does, which is all right with me. I’m too busy trying to remain calm, focusing on the grass and roads flying by beneath me. Pretending the cars and trucks are toys.

Ethan keeps grinning, like he’s just won the lottery. I imagine the Mogs will reward him somehow for helping to recruit me. I start to pick apart everything he’s said and done in the past year, but I have to stop. Every time I start doing that, I begin to second-guess myself. So instead I just stare at the clouds and cities and pastures sweeping by beneath us, trying to steel myself for whatever’s coming next. I take deep breaths and keep my hands clasped together, trying not to freak out about the fact that I’m heading to Mog central.

For some reason I think they’re going to take me to some kind of alien ship or even an old Gothic mansion, but we land at a big, sterile-looking building. It’s still dark outside, but from what I can tell the place looks like a big office—not at all the HQ I would have expected the Mogs to be using.

Men in black suits meet us at the front doors. They look human enough, and nod—almost bow—to me in reverence when we approach. I try to keep my body from shaking, which takes a lot of effort. Everything is new and different and terrifying, and for a few passing moments all I want is to be sitting on the beach on my little island, even though by this point I probably couldn’t even find it if I tried.

“Welcome, sir,” they both say.

Inside, we’re escorted past a front desk and around security. I notice a placard on a wall as we pass: Federal Bureau of Investigation.

“Is this, like, a
government
facility?” I whisper to Ethan.

“I told you,” he says. “They’ve got eyes all over the place. They’ve got resources everywhere.”

He winks at me, though this fact is both impressive and unsettling. I’m beginning to see just how useless all the hiding and moving was.

We continue to silently wind through a few halls, down a set of stairs, and into what must be an underground level. Finally, we come to two doors next to each other.

“You’re in here,” one of the men says, motioning from me to the first door. Then he turns to Ethan. “You’re in the other one.”

“Wait,” I say, stepping forward. They can’t separate us. I don’t want to be alone in here. Panic starts to rise up in me. I can feel my skin start to change, taking on the properties of my duffel bag handles, all leathery and smooth. “Why can’t we—”

“It’s fine,” Ethan says in the most soothing voice he can. It works, because I start to calm down. “They just want to talk to you. It’s probably classified info or something like that. It’s okay. You’re their VIP. Don’t worry.”

I nod reluctantly. Ethan disappears into his appointed room. I stand in the hallway for a few seconds before one of the men clears his throat. I shoot him an annoyed look and then go inside.

It’s the kind of room I recognize from watching too many crime shows on cable over the last year. It’s empty except for a swinging light, a few chairs, and a big metal desk in the center of the room that looks like it could double as an operating table. An interrogation room. I swallow hard.

“Please, have a seat,” someone says.

I turn to see the Mogadorian Ethan was videoconferencing with last night standing in the corner. His gleaming black hair reflects the swinging light, black eyes twinkling. His lips spread across his gray teeth. He has to be seven feet tall, at least.

“We’ve been expecting you, Five,” he continues, his voice rich and low as he waves towards one of the chairs. I hesitate, and then take a seat. The Mog sits across from me.

I’m sitting across from a Mogadorian.

Suddenly, all I can remember are stories Rey told me growing up. About how the Mogs invaded, and about all the terrors they brought with them to our planet. You’d think that they were monsters—and though this guy is definitely creepy and intimidating, he doesn’t look all that different from me, all things considered.

Still, it’s hard for me to keep my fingers from drumming on the table. I pull my hands back, crossing my arms. That’s when I feel the Loric glove and its hidden blade.

Rey always told me that if I was caught I’d be tortured. If that’s what this is really about—all one setup to try to torture me—will I be fast enough to use the blade to escape? Either by destroying the Mogs or myself?

“We’re very pleased with your decision to join us, young Lorien,” the Mog says.

“I don’t have much of a choice if I want to live,” I say.

“An intelligent boy. I always knew we were correct in placing our bets on you. If only more of your kind were able to see the true extent of our might and the inevitability of the Mogadorian rule, we might have saved many casualties.”

“You’ve been in contact with the others?” I ask.

“In some ways.”

“What’s your plan? Are you going after Four next?”

“Based on the charm that protects all of you, that
would
make sense,” the Mog says, grinning widely, exposing those hideous teeth once again. “Of course, it’s possible that charm has its limits. How many times do you think it will work before it finally fails? We have so many soldiers and scouts willing to test out the spell’s longevity, happy to die in the name of securing our future.”

He’s going to try to kill me,
I think. In an instant, I’ve got one glove off and a hand on the table. It’s as if by instinct. I haven’t trained with my newest power, but I take a chance. Sure enough, my skin goes silver as I absorb the properties of the metal. If nothing else it should buy me some time if he attacks me.

The Mog laughs a little.

“Oh, don’t worry. We have
others
we could test that out on. Isn’t it obvious by now that we have a much brighter future prepared for you?”

“You have other Garde
here
?” I remember Ethan mentioning Nine being held captive. The idea of meeting another of my kind makes my pulse pound.

I don’t want to do it. Not now, at least. I couldn’t face one of them as someone who turned on them. Not until I’m stronger, until I’ve got my head on right and can really talk some sense into them.

“In due time, you’ll learn about all the ways that we’ve ensured our success in the extermination of the Garde. But we can’t just go around telling you all our secrets, now, can we? Not if you were planning on double-crossing us or were to report back to the Garde. You must prove your loyalty to us before we can continue.”

I hesitate, and focus on my breathing. On calming down. My body changes back to normal, and I place my palms on the table before me.

“A useful power,” the Mog says. “Ethan had not mentioned it in his reports.”

“It’s new,” I say. “Very new.”

He just nods.

“We can help you with that. With all your skills. By the time we’re through training you, you’ll be one of the most powerful players in our ranks. There is not a place on this planet that will be
worthy
of your rule.”

Something sparks in me. The memory of a place. A destination I never made it to.

“Canada,” I say.

“I’m sorry?”

“Canada. I would want to rule over Canada.”

The Mog looks confused for a moment, and then smirks.

“How about all of North America. To start with.”

I nod. I don’t know how else to respond to being offered a continent.

“But, first, your loyalty,” he continues. “This is the sort of deal that is usually inked in blood.”

Blood?

“What do you want me to do?”

The Mog turns his head, nodding toward Ethan’s room.

“He has served us well.”

“What?” I ask.
Ethan?
My stomach turns. Surely he can’t mean what I think he means—that he wants me to kill the only person I have in the world. “But you made a deal with Ethan.” My voice threatens to shake.

I start to go on, almost pleading, but the Mog just lets out what might be a laugh, but sounds more like choking.

“No, no, dear boy. We aren’t asking you to hurt Ethan. That human has served us very well. And we honor our deals. I simply point out that Ethan went through some of the same trials you will have to go through in the future to prove his intentions to us. Your loyalty to him is commendable, but we’re going to have to harden your resolve.”

I exhale long and hard.

The Mog places a folder on the table.

“There
will
be a sacrifice to us. Not immediately, but once you’re ready. When we’ve trained you, and helped you unlock your full potential. There’s a picture of your target in here.” He slides the folder across the table. “Would you like to see who it is?”

I don’t touch the document.

“We are offering you the world, Five. Prove yourself, and we will make you a god on this planet. If you are serious about joining us, this is the way it must be. Not only as proof of your loyalty, but proof that you have what it takes to rule in the name of Mogadore. There is much to come. We have no room for the squeamish.”

And if I
don’t
do it, he’ll have me thrown into a cell and probably tortured. Ethan too. This he doesn’t say, but I know it must be true.

For a moment this scenario seems strangely familiar. My mind flashes back to our little shack on the island. The hogs snorting wildly, practically screaming in their pen. The scared snake, raised halfway off the ground like a clenched spring, ready to strike. Rey telling me to kill it before it harmed one of us. It was the snake or us. It just had to be that way.

The memory seems so far away. So long ago.

I’d simply stood there, not wanting to have to do anything. Hoping that everything would work out somehow—that the danger would go away on its own.

But that’s not how the world works. It’s no use just sitting around waiting for danger to come to me. At least with the Mogs, I’ll know the danger. I’ll
be
the danger.

Do whatever it takes to stay alive.

Rey’s last words to me.

“All right,” I say. My voice wavers a little, and I try to even it out as I continue. “If that’s what it takes to show my allegiance.”

The Mog grins.

I stare at the folder. I don’t have to open it, but I realize that this—like so many other things in my life—is a test. To see if I have the stomach for what’s to come. I’m going to have to get used to this sort of thing. Harden myself. The Mogs won’t coddle me—of this I have no doubt. They’re ruthless and powerful. That’s what I’ll have to become.

I take a deep breath and open the folder.