“I’m not putting myself before the whole world, John. I wanted to see a future where Setrákus Ra is killed, no matter the consequences.” Now she looks right at me, fire in her eyes. “I wanted to see a future where someone has the guts to do what needs to be done.”
I swallow hard. I’m not sure if I really want to know the details of Ella’s visions, but I can’t stop myself from asking.
“What . . . what did you see?”
“Lots of things,” Ella says, calming down. She gets a distant look in her eyes as she tries to explain what seeing the future is like. “The visions start out as blurry possibilities. There are millions of them, I think. Some of them are more solid than others—those are the ones I can see. The ones that seem . . . I dunno. Likely? But even that’s not a guarantee. You remember that future we saw in Chicago. It felt real, impossible to escape, clear as day. It’s gone completely now. The future has changed too much. And it keeps changing.”
My head hurts. I feel half crazy just listening to Ella. We need a Cêpan, someone who could help her get control of these mental Legacies before they drive her insane. At least we’ve avoided the bleak future I witnessed. But what did we trade it for?
“Ella, did you see yourself die?”
She hesitates, and a knot of dread tightens in my stomach.
“Yes,” she says. Her body shakes and I realize it’s from holding in a sob. I crouch down in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders.
“It won’t happen,” I insist, my voice as firm as I can make it. “We’ll change the future.”
“But we win, John.”
Ella grabs my hands. Tears stream freely down her cheeks. I realize something, the way she’s looking at me, the way she’s squeezing my hands. Ella’s not feeling sorry for herself.
She’s feeling sorry for me.
“It’s going to hurt you so much, John,” she says, her voice cracking. “You have to be strong.”
“It’s me?” I don’t believe it. “Am I the one that—?”
I can’t even finish the question. I yank my hands away from Ella. I’d never hurt her, not even if it meant ending this war.
“There has to be another way,” I say. “Use your Legacy and find us a better future.”
Ella shakes her head. “You don’t understand—”
In the blink of an eye, Ella is changed. She looks like the girl stretched out on the operating table, black ooze worming its way beneath her skin. She struggles to focus on me. The docking bay around us gets weirdly hazy and starts melting away.
“Ella? What’s happening?”
“The Anubis is moving out of range,” she says, narrowing her eyes, trying to strengthen our telepathic connection. “I’m going to lose you. Quick! There’s one more thing you have to see!”
Ella snatches my hand and then we’re running towards the docking bay entrance. We step through it and—
Dirt crunches beneath my feet. Hot sun beams down on the back of my neck, the air sticky and humid. It’s disorienting to be suddenly transported from the sterile gloom of the Anubis into the heat of the jungle, vivid green on all sides, tropical birds loudly chirping. I’m standing on what looks to be an airstrip carved into the jungle. The black-armored hulls of a handful of Mogadorian Skimmers reflect the bright afternoon sun.
My eyes are drawn to the limestone pyramid that stands a few yards away from the airstrip, all the Mog gear seemingly positioned at a safe distance from the ancient structure. I instinctually recognize the temple, even though I’ve never actually seen it before. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it feels as if something buried within the centuries-old Mayan architecture is calling out to me. I feel safe here.
“This is the Sanctuary,” I say, my voice quiet and reverent.
“Yeah,” Ella says, and I notice that she’s also admiring the temple.
“Six, Marina and Adam . . .” I pause, realizing that Ella’s never met our Mogadorian ally. “Adam is a—”
“I know who he is,” Ella says, her tone giving nothing away. “We meet soon.”
“Okay, well, they were just here,” I continue, looking around for signs of our friends. “They’re probably headed back by now. Are you going to show me what they did to give the humans Legacies?”
“This isn’t the past or present, John. We’re in the future. One that I can see very, very clearly.”
I should’ve known that since the sun is out. I turn to face Ella, sensing that she hasn’t brought me here to deliver good news.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Because of that.”
Ella points into the sky to the north of the Sanctuary. There, like a storm cloud rolling across the otherwise blue and cloudless sky, is the Anubis, slowly floating towards the temple. My legs jerk, reflexes still keyed to run for cover after I narrowly survived the bombardment in New York. I force myself to stay put and watch the warship approach.
“When?” I ask Ella. “When does this happen?”
Before Ella can answer, her form contorts, again turning pale and black-veined. The scenery flashes, the jungle suddenly overlapping with the Anubis operating room and also with what looks to be the inside of a subway car—all three places existing simultaneously, like three transparent pictures laid on top of one another. For a second, it’s impossible for me to focus on any particular detail, everything blending to the point where I feel unmoored from reality. But then Ella cries out, either from frustration or pain or both, and the jungle and the Sanctuary solidify once again.