Five's Legacy
Page 25

“If I leave, you’ve failed your mission, haven’t you?” I ask.
Ethan nods. I know what this means. I’ve heard enough stories about the ruthlessness of the Mogs to know that they don’t tolerate failures. If I leave, Ethan is probably as good as dead.
I stare at him. Everything has happened so fast. Everything’s changed so quickly.
“I know you, Five,” Ethan says. “How good it makes you feel to be in control and respected. You can feel like that forever when you’re ruling with the Mogs. I’ve seen their power. It’s amazing. And they want you to be a part of it. They want you to be on their side, be one of them.”
“Everything out there can be yours,” I say, quoting Ethan’s favorite motto.
“Everything,” he says.
I close my eyes. It’s all too much to take in. But what Ethan says makes sense. At least, mostly.
The Elders left me with a dying old man to protect me. The Mogs built me up and gave me anything I wanted. Groomed me. They’re the ones who have shown me the most respect in my lifetime.
They’re the ones who can keep me alive.
I think of the other Garde. What easy lives they’ve probably had. Competent Cêpans. Homes in cities. One day in the future they will likely look at me and tell me that I’ve betrayed them. But who knows? Maybe they’ll see reason. If I can just talk to them, maybe they’ll start to see things differently. Why should we be hunted down like animals when we could be rulers? The humans don’t have powers like ours. They think we’re freaks. Monsters. We could show them what we truly are together.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “What do we do now?”
Relief washes over Ethan’s face, and his smile erupts again, the one I know so well by now.
“I’ll let them know,” he says. “Get your things together. They’ll want to talk with you as soon as possible.”
I nod, and head to the stairs.
“Hey.” Ethan turns back to me before leaving. “I’m proud of you. You’re doing the right thing. You’re doing the smart thing. That’s the biggest test of all.”
I move as if in a daze. My body functions, but it’s as if someone else is controlling it. I wonder briefly if I’m in shock. That’s what they always say on TV when someone’s been through something crazy like this.
“We’re heading up north,” Ethan yells from the stairs. “Grab a coat.”
I pull some cold-weather clothes out of the back of my closet—stuff Ethan bought me a while ago that I’ve never had reason to wear. Then I head for the door.
I pause and then turn back. I pick up my duffel bag and take my Loric Chest out, placing it on the bed. All the useless stuff is still there. I run my fingers over the items before picking up the hidden blade.
It might be smart to keep this handy, just in case we run into trouble.
I slip the bracer on over my hand and wrist, and then put a glove on over it.
Just in case we run into trouble.
There’s a chopping noise coming from outside my window. I look out and see a black helicopter landing on the sprawling yard of the house.
CHAPTER TEN
WE’RE IN THE HELICOPTER FOR WHAT SEEMS like a long time. It’s small, but fast. I don’t know who the pilot is and I don’t ask. All I know is that we have to wear these big noise-canceling headphones with radios built into them, and that’s the only way the three of us—me, Ethan, and the pilot—can talk to one another. None of us does, which is all right with me. I’m too busy trying to remain calm, focusing on the grass and roads flying by beneath me. Pretending the cars and trucks are toys.
Ethan keeps grinning, like he’s just won the lottery. I imagine the Mogs will reward him somehow for helping to recruit me. I start to pick apart everything he’s said and done in the past year, but I have to stop. Every time I start doing that, I begin to second-guess myself. So instead I just stare at the clouds and cities and pastures sweeping by beneath us, trying to steel myself for whatever’s coming next. I take deep breaths and keep my hands clasped together, trying not to freak out about the fact that I’m heading to Mog central.
For some reason I think they’re going to take me to some kind of alien ship or even an old Gothic mansion, but we land at a big, sterile-looking building. It’s still dark outside, but from what I can tell the place looks like a big office—not at all the HQ I would have expected the Mogs to be using.
Men in black suits meet us at the front doors. They look human enough, and nod—almost bow—to me in reverence when we approach. I try to keep my body from shaking, which takes a lot of effort. Everything is new and different and terrifying, and for a few passing moments all I want is to be sitting on the beach on my little island, even though by this point I probably couldn’t even find it if I tried.
“Welcome, sir,” they both say.
Inside, we’re escorted past a front desk and around security. I notice a placard on a wall as we pass: Federal Bureau of Investigation.
“Is this, like, a government facility?” I whisper to Ethan.
“I told you,” he says. “They’ve got eyes all over the place. They’ve got resources everywhere.”
He winks at me, though this fact is both impressive and unsettling. I’m beginning to see just how useless all the hiding and moving was.
We continue to silently wind through a few halls, down a set of stairs, and into what must be an underground level. Finally, we come to two doors next to each other.