The Power of Six - Page 27/45

My heart’s pounding, and I can see a noticeable shake in my hand when I lift it and place it on her stomach; and it’s then that I can feel how weak and sick she really is. The cold tingle crawls up my spine and spreads down my arms and into the tip of each finger. I grow dizzy. My breathing quickens, and my heart beats even faster. I begin to sweat despite the prickly chill turning my skin cold. Carlotta’s eyes open, and a low groan escapes her open mouth.

I close my eyes. “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” I say to comfort the both of us. And then, with the icy chill radiating from me to her, I begin to pull the sickness away. It retreats stubbornly, clinging tightly to her insides, reluctant to loosen its grip; but finally even the stubborn bits let go.

Slight tremors cause Carlotta to convulse and shake, and I do my best to hold her down. I open my eyes just in time to see the ashen color of Carlotta’s face change to a pink glow.

Vertigo sweeps through me. I lift my hands from her body and fall backwards to the floor. My heart thuds so violently that it scares me, like it’s about to break free from my body. But in time it slows, and when I finally pull myself to my feet, I see Carlotta’s sitting up with a bewildered look, as though trying to remember where she is and how she’d gotten here.

I rush into the kitchen and drink three glasses of water. When I walk back, Carlotta is still gathering her bearings. I make another quick decision—I go to the nightstand and rifle through the ten or so pill bottles, finding the label I’m looking for: WARNING: MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS. I open it, take four pills, and shove them in my pocket.

“What’s going on?” Carlotta asks. She is frantic. “Where am I? Who are you?”

I don’t answer her, and instead walk from the room. But before I leave, I turn and look at Carlotta once more. She’s watching me with her healed, untwisted legs dangling over the bed as though she’s about to stand.

I rush out of the house and find Legacy sleeping underneath the back window. Keeping to the alleys and side streets, I make my way back to the orphanage with the cat in my arms, wondering how Héctor will react when he finds his mother cured. The problem, however, is that in a village this small, secrets don’t last very long. My only hope is that nobody saw me come or go, and that Carlotta won’t remember what really happened.

Outside the double doors, I unzip my coat halfway and carefully place Legacy inside. I know just where I can keep him safe: up in the north belfry with the Chest. The Chest, I think. I have to get it open.

Chapter Twenty

BEING IN LOVE IS A VERY STRANGE THING. Your thoughts constantly drift towards this other person, no matter what you’re doing. You could be reaching for a glass in the cupboard or brushing your teeth or listening to someone tell a story, and your mind will just start drifting towards their face, their hair, the way they smell, wondering what they’ll wear, and what they’ll say the next time they see you. And on top of the constant dream state you’re in, your stomach feels like it’s connected to a bungee cord, and it bounces and bounces around for hours until it finally lodges itself next to your heart.

That’s how I’ve felt since the first day I met Sarah Hart. I can be training with Sam or trying to find my shoes in the back of our SUV, and the thought of Sarah’s face and her lips and ivory skin take over me. I can be giving directions from the backseat and still be one hundred percent focused on the way it feels when the top of Sarah’s head rests just under my chin. And I can be surrounded by twenty Mogs, my palms just starting to light up, and I’ll be analyzing every line of conversation from Thanksgiving dinner at Sarah’s.

But what’s even more insane is that as we drive the speed limit towards Paradise at nine o’clock at night, as we drive right towards Sarah and her blond hair and blue eyes, I’m also thinking about Six. I’m thinking about the way she smells, the way she looks in her training outfits, how we almost kissed back in Florida. My stomach also hurts because of Six. Not only because of her, but because of the fact my best friend also has a crush on her. I need to buy some antacids the next time we stop.

While Sam drives we debate Henri’s letter and talk about how cool Sam’s dad is for not only helping the people of Lorien but also for giving Sam a riddle to find the transmitter device in case anything were to happen to him. And still I’m going back and forth between Sarah and Six in my head.

We’re two hours from Paradise when Six asks, “But what if it’s nothing, though? I mean, what if there’s nothing down in that well but some weird birthday present or anything else but the transmitter. We’re risking a lot, like a lot a lot, by showing up in Paradise like this.”

“Trust me,” Sam says. He drums his thumbs on the steering wheel and turns up the stereo. “I’ve never been so certain of anything in my entire life. And I get straight As, thank you very much.”

I think the Mogadorians are there waiting, in far greater numbers than what we faced in Florida, watching everything that might lead them to us. And if I’m going to be honest with myself, the only reason I’m willing to take this risk is because of the possibility of seeing Sarah.

I lean forward in the backseat and pat Sam’s right shoulder. “Sam, no matter what happens with that well and sundial, Six and I owe you big-time for what your dad did for us. But I really, really, really, really hope that it leads to a transmitter.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam says.

Highway lights come and go. Bernie Kosar’s floppy ears fall from the edge of the seat as he sleeps. I’m nervous about seeing Sarah. Nervous about being so close to Six.

“Hey, Sam?” I ask. “You wanna play a game?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you think Six’s Earth name is?”

Six whips her head over her shoulder, her raven hair slapping her right cheek, and she frowns at me in mock anger.

“She has one?” Sam laughs.

“Just guess,” I say.

“Yeah, Sam,” Six says. “Guess.”

“Um, Stryker?”

I laugh so hard Bernie Kosar jumps up to look out the nearest window.

“Stryker?” Six yells.

“Not Stryker, then? Okay, okay. I don’t know, something like Persia or Eagle or . . .”

“Eagle?” Six yells. “Why would I be Eagle?”

“You’re such a badass, you know.” Sam laughs. “I just figured you would be like a Starfire or like Thunder Clap or something really badassy.”

“Exactly!” I shout. “That’s totally what I thought, too!”

“So what is it then?” he asks.

Six crosses her arms and looks out the passenger-side window. “I’m not telling you until you make a real guess with a real girl’s name. Eagle, Sam? Give me some credit.”

“What? I’d name myself Eagle if I had the chance,” Sam says. “Eagle Goode. That sounds pretty awesome, right?”

“It sounds like a brand of cheese,” Six says. We all laugh at that.

“Okay. Uh, Rachel?” Sam says. “Britney?”

“Ew, yuck,” she says.

“Fine. Rebecca? Claire? Oh, I know. Beverly.”

“You are insane.” Six laughs. She punches Sam’s thigh, and he howls and rubs at it dramatically. He hits her back, a couple of knuckles on her left bicep, and she feigns severe pain.

“Her name is Maren Elizabeth,” I say. “Maren Elizabeth.”

“Aw, you gave it away,” he says. “I was going with Maren Elizabeth next.”

“Yeah, right,” she says.

“No, I was, I was! Maren Elizabeth’s pretty cool. Do you want us to start calling you that? Four goes by John, right Four?”

I scratch Bernie Kosar’s head. I don’t think I could get used to calling him Hadley, but maybe I could get used to calling Six Maren Elizabeth. “I think you should take on a human name,” I say. “If not Maren Elizabeth, then something else. I mean, at least for when we’re in front of strangers.”

Everyone grows silent, and I reach behind me into the Chest for the velvet bag holding Lorien’s solar system. I set the six planets and the sun in my palm and watch them hover and glow to life. As the planets begin to orbit their sun, I find that I am able to dim the brightness of their glow with my mind. I intentionally lose myself in them, successfully forgetting just for a few moments that I might be seeing Sarah soon.

Six turns to look at the faint solar system that floats in front of my chest, and then she finally says, “I don’t know; I still like the name Six. Maren Elizabeth was when I was a different person, and right now Six just feels right. It can be short for something if someone asks.”

Sam looks over. “For what? Sixty?”

I set out seven mugs and a kettle on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil, I crush three of the pills I stole from Héctor’s mother into a fine powder with the rounded back side of a metal spoon. Ella stands beside me watching as she always does when it’s my turn to make the Sisters’ nightly tea.

“What are you doin’?” she asks.

“Something I’m probably going to regret,” I say. “But something I have to do.”

Ella flattens a piece of crumpled paper on the table and places the tip of her pencil on it. Immediately she’s drawing a perfect picture of the seven teacups I’ve lined up. From what I can get out of her, she met with a couple in Sister Lucia’s office who said they had “a lot of love to give.” I’m not sure how long the meeting lasted, but Ella says they’re coming back tomorrow. I know what it means and I pour the boiling water from the kettle as slowly as I can, trying to prolong my time with her.

“Ella? How often do you think about your parents?” I ask.

Her brown eyes grow wide. “Today?”

“Sure. Today, or any other day?”

“I don’t know . . .” She trails off. After a pause, she adds, “A million times?”

I bend down to hug her, and I don’t know if it’s because of how sorry I feel for her or how sorry I feel for myself. My parents are dead, too. The victims of a war I’m supposed to continue someday.

I scoop the crushed pills into Adelina’s teacup, regretting that I’ve resorted to drugging her. There’s no other choice. She can stand by and wait for death if that’s what she chooses, but I refuse to give up or to go down without a fight, without doing everything within my power to survive.

With the tray teetering in my hands, I leave Ella at the table and make my rounds. One by one I hand the tea out around the orphanage, and when I’m ushered into the Sisters’ quarters to deliver Adelina her tea, I carefully shove her cup towards the front edge. She takes it with a polite nod. “Sister Camila is feeling ill this evening and I have been asked to sleep in the children’s quarters tonight for her.”

“Okay,” I say. As I think about the possibilities of Adelina and me being in the same room tonight, I watch her take a long sip from her teacup. I can’t tell if I just made a huge mistake or helped my cause immensely.