Five's Legacy (10 page)

Was that my story too?

I wish Rey were here to make sense of things. Already he’s fading from my memory. And the things I do remember vividly are his rules, or his disappointment, or his failed training.

And his last words.
Do whatever it takes to survive.

I stay on the roof all night. By morning, I still don’t know what my next move should be. And even though I know I shouldn’t—that it’s probably being watched—I go to the beach where I first met Emma.

I find the arepa stand where I bought us snacks.

It takes the owner a few moments to recognize me with a few extra pounds and close-cropped hair. When he finally does, he looks spooked.

“Have you seen Emma around?” I ask him.

He shakes his head a little.

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” I ask. My heart races. If the Mogs killed her . . .

“Her family moved a few months ago. Her brother had been in the hospital for a while, but when he finally got out, they wanted to start over somewhere new. They hightailed it out of here.”

His face is going pale. At first I think the Mogs have shown up behind me or something, but then I realize it’s me. Emma must have told him, or the other locals, what she’d seen. About what a freak I was.

The man crosses his hand over his head and chest. He keeps talking, but I walk away.

I wander aimlessly, frustration growing inside me. Four other Garde are free, but hidden away. Probably living in high-rises or penthouses like Nine was. And here I am alone again. Forgotten. Having to start over.

Something hot boils up inside me. I slam my fist against the brick wall of a store beside me. And then, something strange starts to happen.

My body changes.

I can feel it stiffening and growing heavy. My skin grows dry and looks brittle.

I take a few steps away from the wall and back into a stop sign on the street. I wrap my fingers around it for balance—my head is spinning—and squeeze. The metal crumples under my touch.

Then my skin changes again. It takes on a silvery sheen. I stumble forward, pulse quickening. I lean against a storefront window. Again I change. I raise my hand. I can see through it.

Glass
. I’ve turned into glass.

At first I think I’m dying—maybe I’ve been poisoned somehow. But with every step I take and every different material my fingers graze, it becomes more apparent what’s happening.

I’m turning into the things I touch.

My hands shake. My eyes grow wide and dry. It’s everything I can do just to keep breathing at a normal pace.

It’s early in the morning, and there aren’t many people around, but that will change. Soon, there’ll be crowds everywhere. Whatever is happening to me, I can’t stay out in the open.

I have to get to safety. To shelter.

I don’t want to be alone.

There’s only one person I know who can help me. Only one person I know, period.

I somehow manage to turn into a normal, fleshy human again, and then I’m in the air, flying faster than I ever have before, throwing caution to the wind as I soar high over the city. When I crash onto the beach at the back of Ethan’s property, one of the maids sees me and runs inside.

I try to stand on the beach, but suddenly I’m sinking—no, not sinking, I’m falling apart as my legs disintegrate, breaking up and turning into tiny pieces of earth. I’m becoming one with the beach. I scream as I start to collapse in on myself.

What’s happening?
I wonder frantically. And then another, more pressing thought appears.
I’m going to die a pile of beach.

“Cody!” someone shouts. It’s Ethan. The maid must have found him.

My torso’s falling apart now. I try to shout to Ethan but the only thing that escapes my throat is a dry wheeze. I reach forward, but my arm is already starting to break down.

He runs straight for me, grabbing my hand as best as he can, but half of it slips through his fingers. Part of me touches his watch and I start to solidify again, this time taking on a gold, metallic sheen. The rest of my body follows suit.

I hyperventilate. My heart thumps in my chest, and I swear for a moment it sounds like metal, clanging against my rib cage. That makes me freak out even more, and I can’t catch my breath.

“Calm down,” Ethan says. “This is . . .” He struggles to find the right word. “I guess you’re developing new powers or something.”

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.

CHAPTER TEN

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.