The Fate of Ten
Page 52Back in beagle form, Bernie Kosar sniffs around the pit’s now-hidden edge, wagging his tail. He seems to approve.
“What’s next?” Mark asks, dusting off his hands. “We going to set up some trip wires that trigger hidden crossbows or something?”
“I haven’t seen any crossbows lying around,” Adam replies, rubbing his chin. “However, we might be able to fashion some spears from the tree branches. How are you at whittling?”
Either Adam doesn’t quite get that Mark’s being sarcastic, or he really likes setting traps.
“Yeah, let’s table that for now,” Mark replies, inching away.
Sarah and company actually had the foresight to pack some supplies. Everyone takes a break, passing around bottles of water and food. We all do a pretty good job of pretending not to be scared as hell of what’s coming.
I stand a little ways away from the rest of the gang, eating my sandwich and considering the Loric ship parked on the runway. Something’s nagging at me, but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s like there’s a little voice shouting a warning in the back of my mind and I can’t quite make out the words. Seeing me locked in a staring contest with her ship, Lexa approaches me.
“You think this will work?” she asks me, inclining her head towards our defenses.
“Are you asking me if we’re going to win the war today thanks to a big hole in the ground and some guns hidden in the jungle?” I shake my head solemnly. “No way. But maybe we can screw up Setrákus Ra’s plans somehow.”
“I know this probably doesn’t mean much coming from me,” Lexa begins hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable. “But you’re a good leader, Six. You’re holding it together. Your Cêpan would be proud. Hell, all of Lorien would be proud of the fight you guys are putting up.”
“Yeah,” I reply awkwardly. “Thanks.”
Lexa seems satisfied with this short exchange. She probably gets me in the same way I get her and understands I don’t want some big mushy moment. With one hand, she gestures towards the western expanse of jungle.
“When we were landing, I spotted a small clearing about a mile off. I’m going to move our ship over there, away from the Sanctuary. I’ll drive it under the canopy, so they won’t be able to see it.”
“Good thinking,” I reply. “Don’t want to give away to Setrákus Ra that we’re here.”
“Yeah. There’s a good chance he’ll think you retreated.”
“Element of surprise is pretty much the only thing we’ve got going for us.”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Lexa replies, and then leaves me, striding off towards her ship. Our ship, she called it.
I watch her go. There’s still that little voice shouting in the back of my mind, louder now, but still unintelligible. I don’t know what it’s trying to tell me.
“Six? Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” I ask her.
“It’s like—it’s like a voice.” She swallows. “Oh God, maybe I’m losing my mind.”
And that’s when I realize what’s nagging at me isn’t the voice of my conscience or some other mental warning system gone haywire. It’s literally a voice in my head. One that doesn’t belong there and is desperately trying to be heard.
“You’re not crazy. I hear it, too.”
I focus on the shrill buzzing and, at that moment, it becomes perfectly clear, if still distant, like it’s coming through a tunnel.
Six! Marina! Six! Marina! Can you hear me?
Marina and I lock eyes. That little telepathic voice belongs to Ella. John mentioned that her Legacies had gotten stronger, but her telepathy must be seriously juiced up if she’s able to broadcast to both me and Marina like this. With every second that passes, her voice becomes clearer in my head.
That can only mean she’s getting closer.
“Ella!” I say these words out loud, not really used to communicating telepathically. “Where are you? What’s happ—?”
“He did warn us,” Marina says. “We’re here to try to help you. And to protect the Sanctuary.”
NO! No no no. Ella sounds a little deranged and definitely panicked. He was supposed to warn you.
“Warn us about what?” I ask.
Warn you to run! Ella screams. You have to run!
RUN OR YOU DIE!
Chapter FIFTEEN
MARINA AND I STARE AT EACH OTHER, BOTH OF us frozen.
That’s the thing about death prophecies delivered over telepathic group chat. It’s not exactly clear who they apply to. Is Ella talking about me? Marina? Both of us? Everyone here?
Hell, I don’t believe the future is set in stone. I don’t believe in fate. We’re not running now. Not without first trying to execute our plan. After a moment of uncertainty, I see a flare of determination light in Marina’s eyes.