“Nine lies on his back, groaning. His chest is shredded from where Eight slashed him, he’s got a fresh black eye, and I think I notice a trickle of blood from where I struck him with his staff. Suddenly, his groans turn to laughter.
“That was awesome!” Nine hollers.”
“Wow, Johnny. I send you out for reinforcements and you come back with an old man, a nerd and this little hobbit guy. Great job.”
“If I ever see you again, you traitorous bastard, I'll take out the other fucking eye!”
“I wish you'd stay away from us. Go somewhere safe. When it's over, maybe things could be different..."
I let loose with an incredulous laugh. "Ugh, seriously? That's, like, the kind of crap that Spider-Man tells Mary Jane when he's trying to break it off with her. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be talked to like I'm some superhero's girlfriend?”
“I can’t help blushing and looking down at my feet. “It was nothing.”
“It was literally everything to me.”
I look up, putting on my best version of Eight’s teasing smile. “In that case, I think I deserve more than a gross hot dog.”
Eight clasps his hands across his chest like I’ve wounded him. “You’re right! I’m a fool to think my life could be traded for a hot dog.” He grabs my hand and gets down on one knee, pressing his forehead to the back of my hand. “My savior, what can I ever do to repay you?”
“Hell, even I'm a little surprised by Nine--between this and our little heart-to-heart in the doorway earlier, I might have to upgrade him from total douche bag to minor tool.”
“Did you know Johnny thinks he's Pittacus resurrected?”
“Pick someplace that you could actually get to without building a spaceship.” Six asks
I think it over for a moment. “I don’t know. Disney World?”
Six and Sarah both exchange a look and then start laughing.
“Disney World?” exclaims Six. “You’re so cheesy, John.”
“No, it’s sweet,” says Sarah, patting my hand. “It’s the most magical place on Earth.”
“You know, I’ve never actually been on a roller coaster. Henri wasn’t down with the whole amusement-park thing. I used to see the commercials and I always wanted to go.”
“That’s so sad!” exclaims Sarah. “We’re definitely going to get you to Disney World. Or at least on a roller coaster. They’re amazing.”
Six snaps her fingers. “What’s that one ride? It’s supposed to be like a rocket ship?”
“Space Mountain,” answers Sarah.
“Yeah,” replies Six, and then hesitates as if she’s worried she’s about to divulge too much. “I actually remember looking that up online when I was little. I insisted to Katarina that it had something to do with us.”
The thought of a young Six investigating Disney World is priceless. The three of us share a laugh.
“Aliens,” mutters Sarah jokingly. “You need to get out more.”
“There's no set futures, only the one we make." - Marina / Seven”
“We break our huddle and Eight immediately transforms into one of his massive avatars. His handsome features melt away, replaced by the snarling face and golden mane of a lion. He grows to about twelve feet, ten arms sprouting out of his sides, each of them tipped with razor-sharp claws. Nine whistles through his teeth.
'Now we're talking,' Nine says. 'One of your parents must've been a chimæra. Probably your mom.”
“That ugly freak has spent so much time in my head, I should be charging him rent." -Four”
“Check this out,” Nine says. He holds up a small purple stone and then places it on the back of his hand. The stone slides into his hand—through it. Nine turns his hand over just as the stone pops out in his palm. “Pretty cool, right?” he asks me, waggling his eyebrows.
“Uh, but what is it supposed to do?” Eight asks, looking up from his own Chest.
“I dunno. Impress girls?” Nine looks over at me. “Did it work?”
“Um . . .” I hesitate, trying not to roll my eyes too hard. “Not really. But, I’ve seen guys teleport so I’m kind of hard to impress.”
“Tough crowd.”
“Maybe it's a reminder from Henri that you're supposed to rake the lawn.”
“The question, then, is how do we stop the nightmares?” Malcolm asks.
“I’ve got a solution,” Six says, and everyone looks in her direction. She takes a considering sip from a mug of coffee. “Let’s go kill Setrákus Ra.”
Nine claps his hands and points at Six. “I like the way this chick thinks.”
“I KNOW HE’S GONE. I CAN STILL FEEL THE LINGERING pain from the new scar on my leg. I might never stop feeling that; it could be with me for the rest of my life.
I have to try.
I fall to my knees in the mud next to Eight’s body. The wound doesn’t even look so bad. There’s not as much blood as there was in New Mexico, and Eight lived through that. I should be able to heal this, right? It should work. It has to work. But this one is right on his heart, straight through. I press my hands across the puncture and will my Legacy to kick in. I did it before. I can do it again. I have to.
Nothing happens. I feel cold all over, but it’s not the iciness of my Legacy.
I wish I could lie down next to Eight here in the muck and just shut out everything that’s going on around me. I’m not even crying—it’s like the tears have gone out of me and I just feel hollow.”
“What about Ella’s nightmares?”
It’s Ella, who has been listening quietly, that responds. “I’ll tough them out. The next time that big freak gets into my head, I’m going to punch him in the balls.”
“Whoa!”
“All right,” I say, grinning. “Meeting adjourned.”
“I grab Sarah’s hand. “You are more than that. I need you here with me. You’re pretty much the only thing keeping me from completely melting down.”
“I get it,” she says. “You’re going to save the freaking world and I’m going to help you. That whole saying about behind every great man there is a great woman? I can be that for you. I just want to be a great woman with excellent aim.”
“We’re doing something amazing, Mom. Something to keep the world safe that, uh, isn’t dangerous at all, I promise. I love you.”
“Everything’s gonna go to shit eventually, Sam.” She reaches out and plucks a loose thread off the front of my sweater. “I wish you’d stay away from us. Go somewhere safe. When it’s over, maybe things could be different . . .”
I let loose with an incredulous laugh. “Ugh, seriously? That’s, like, the kind of crap that Spider-Man tells Mary Jane when he’s trying to break it off with her. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be talked to like I’m some superhero’s girlfriend?”
Six laughs too, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just realizing what a hypocrite I’m being. This is exactly the opposite of the advice I gave to John about Sarah.”
“Maybe you’re right and things are going to get bad,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean you should cut yourself off. Being all about the war all the time? That can’t be good. Maybe you should spend like ninety-five percent of your time as Six and, uh, five percent with me, being Maren.”
I didn’t plan that little speech; Six’s old human name just pops out. Her mouth opens a bit, but she doesn’t say anything at first, the name catching her off guard.
“Maren,” she whispers. “I’m not sure I even remember how to be her.”
“Sarah drops her spent handgun and grabs some crazy-looking lightweight machine gun, the kind of thing I used to believe didn’t exist outside of action movies.
“You know how to use that thing?” I ask.
“They all work pretty much the same,” she replies. “You just point and click.”
“Look,” Six snaps, “we can’t just stand around gabbing. They could be co—”
Six is cut off by the sudden roar of a noise overhead. It’s a sound made by no earthly machinery. We all look up just as the silver Mogadorian ship throws on its floodlights, momentarily blinding us. Five, shielding his eyes, turns to look at me.
“Is that your ship?” he asks.
“Mogadorians!” I shout at him. Already, dark shapes are descending from the ship, the first wave of Mogadorian warriors on their way to attack.
“Oh,” says Five, blinking confusedly at the ship. “So that’s what they look like.”
“Watching the two of you is almost enough to make me believe Henri's crap about Loric only falling in love once."
-Six.
^This is asdfghjkl. Honestly, Four and Six is my OTP. But oh well, hurrah for love.”
“We’ve got the whole team together! They’re pudgier and dorkier than expected, but I’m cool with it. Let’s go blow some shit up.”
“I used to be really into these when I was a kid,” Nine says. “Now I’m more into the real thing. You want to join us?”
Five raises an eyebrow. “The real thing? We’re going to go kill some soldiers in um—?” He squints at the open case for the video game. “World War Two. I guess my Earth history must be spotty because I thought that was all over.”
“We’re going to train,” Nine replies, unamused. “From what I heard about Arkansas, it sounds like your game could use some work.”
“I look over at the Garde. They're so used to being on the run, to physical threats that they can fight and destroy. But how are they supposed to escape or defeat, something that attacks them from within?”
“This is starting to look less like a rescue mission and more like you going on a leisurely road trip with two hot chicks,” Nine grumbles.
Sarah rolls her eyes. I glare at Nine. “It’s not like that. You know we need you here, in case something happens.”
“Yeah, I’m backup,” he snorts. “Johnny, do I have to start dating you to get some action around here?”
Sarah winks at him. “It might help.”
Nine looks me over. “Ugh. Not worth it.”
“It is practical, but that doesn't mean it's right.”
“I see you again, you traitorous bastard,” I yell, “I’ll take the other fucking eye!”
“While Five lingers at the back of the group looking nervous to be meeting so many new people, John strides right towards me. A grin splits my face—it’s more than just being united with my best friend, it’s the feeling that we’re going to be part of something great together. We’re going to save the world.”
“Malcolm shakes his head. "I'd advise against ingesting any of the items in your Chests until we know what they do."
"You listening?" Eight elbows Nine. "Don't eat any of the rocks.”
“From a little spark may burst a flame.”
“When Mary Shelley took a local legend based on truth and crafted fiction from it, she'd made Victor a tragic figure and killed him off. He understood her dramatic purpose for giving him a death scene, but he loathed her for portraying him as tragic and a failure.
Her judgement of his work was arrogant. What else of consequence did she ever write? And of the two, who was dead - and who was not?”
“As I head back up the stairs, I hear the dryer make a sound of great mechanical distress, nnnnnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and I pause for only a moment before I decide that if I leave, I will no longer intimidate the machine, and it will then do its job very well without me.”
“Good. Or instead, what if I just told you that I love you?” Payton gazed
into his eyes. “What would you say, J. D. Jameson, if I told you that?”
J.D. smiled. He touched his forehead to Payton’s, closed his eyes, and
answered her with one word.
“Finally.”
“It was a knife of an idea, a cruel instrument of sacrifice, but also one of great beauty, silvery, curved, dancing with light.”
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