“Maybe that’s not your worst self,” I tell Marina. “Maybe that’s just who we need to be right now.”
“And who will we be after, John?”
“After doesn’t matter anymore,” I tell her. “We’ve already lost so much. If we don’t win, if we don’t stop Setrákus Ra, then what was it all for?”
I realize that Marina’s hand has begun to emanate a painful cold. Instead of jerking my hand away, I let my Lumen turn on. I push heat back at her.
“Without Sarah, I don’t care about what happens to me,” I continue. “I just want to destroy them, destroy Setrákus Ra, once and for all. That’s all that matters anymore.”
Marina nods. She doesn’t judge me for these words. I think she understands. She knows what it’s like to want to throw yourself forwards, maintain momentum to keep from breaking down.
“I only hope there’s something left of the people we were, something left of us to rebuild, when it’s all over,” Marina says quietly.
“I hope so too,” I admit.
“Good,” she replies. “Now, let’s get started.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
LEXA KEEPS THE FLIGHT BACK FROM NIAGARA Falls low and cautious. We don’t want to ping on any Mogadorian radar if they’re sending more ships into the area. I stand beside her in the cockpit, the waterfall battleground receding behind us.
Adam’s voice comes in clear and excited over the comm.
“I’ve got a lot of chatter from the warship in Chicago. They’re missing some Skimmers they sent to Niagara Falls. And that other ship from Toronto is on its way there; you’re getting out just ahead of it,” Adam reports. “The trueborn in command is worried that his Skimmers haven’t checked in. I assume that’s you guys’ doing, right?”
I chuckle. “Not us. The newbies.”
“Oh, good for them,” Adam replies, his surprise audible.
“Crushing a crew of Mogs is like initiation,” I say casually. Lexa glances up at this, a tight frown on her face. I look away from her.
“Probably helped that the vatborn had orders to take them alive,” Adam adds.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I guess the commander wanted to make a gift of them to Setrákus Ra.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, he screwed up.”
“Anyway,” Adam continues, “this commander, now he’s requesting permission to divert from his position in Chicago, especially since the bombardment orders haven’t come in like promised. He wants to lock down the Loralite stone at Niagara Falls in case more Garde teleport through.”
I grimace. That’s exactly what Ella was worried about.
“They won’t find anything,” I tell Adam. “We took care of the stone.”
Back at Niagara Falls, while Sam and Daniela helped the four new Garde onto the ship, I walked over to where Ella was having a weird little commune with the outcropping of cobalt-blue rock. She had her arms wrapped around the smooth stone, her cheek pressed against its side. It throbbed with Loric energy, and for a moment I was worried that she might be about to teleport away. Or do something even weirder.
“Ella, you ready to go . . . ?” I asked softly, not wanting to disturb her.
She didn’t respond right away. The Loralite stone flickered brightly for a moment, suddenly transparent, veins of electric energy visible inside. Then, a moment later, the stone faded, the cobalt blue seeped away and it looked dull, like any number of rocks jutting out around the falls. Ella turned around, frowned and dusted off her hands.
“Ready,” she said to me.
I didn’t move. Instead, I pointed at the stone. “What did you just do?”
“I turned it off,” she replied. “Don’t want anybody teleporting here if the Mogadorians know about it.”
I looked from the stone to Ella. “You can do that? Control them?”
“Didn’t know until I tried,” Ella replied, her eyes literally aglow. “Since the Sanctuary, since I . . . fell into the energy, I’ve felt connected.”
“Connected to what? Lorien?”
“That, yes. And Earth. Everything. It’s fading, though. Whatever Legacy did to me, I don’t think the effects are going to last.” Ella started walking towards the ship. “Come on. I need to go have a very unpleasant conversation with John.”
I nodded like I understood what Ella was talking about. I decided it was in all our best interests just to let Ella do her thing. She’d been through a lot, seen more than I could imagine. Let her handle the mystical. I’d handle the dirty work.