The Number Nine
PROLOGUE
I don't remember much of Lorien. I was only four when I had been forced to flee my home planet. I remember the two moons…and the lights. I had asked my grandmother what the lights were and she had thought they were fireworks. It was a festival after all.
But they weren't fireworks.
Then I remember my grandmother's panicked eyes as she handed me a locket before Darian took my hand and ran. I remember when the charm was cast, when the circular scar appeared on my ankle. There was pain, I remember that. I remember boarding a ship that was headed to Earth with nine other Gardes and their Cepans. I watched my home planet shrink away, a sinking feeling in my heart.
There are nine of us…there were nine of us. We are masters of blending in—we can look like you, talk like you, act like you but we are different from you.
Our purpose was to protect our planet but we were never given a chance. Now, we are on Earth, hiding. We are not safe.
And neither are you.
I don't remember much of Lorien…but my heart longs for it.
*n i n e*
CHAPTER 1
THE STREETS OF MANILA, PHILIPPINES is teeming with people, as always. Street vendors litter the sidewalks, trying to sell their goods to any tourist willing to stop for a moment to look. I sit on the roof of a skyscraper, my hood drawn over my face as I watch the people below from behind my oversized shades.
If Darian was still alive, she'd hate Manila. She'd say that it was too crowded, that the Mogadorians would catch us no problems…but she's not alive anymore. It's been two years but the pain of being alone has never faded.
I call myself Shammy here, a play on words for the number nine in Tagalog. Siyam, pronounced sham…almost like Sam. Maybe I'll keep this name when I get to China.
I draw my knees to my chest, my finger running over the newly formed red circular scar on my right ankle. I wince as I touch a raw spot and my finger trails over the other two circular scars beneath the new, raw scar. One…two…and three. Three brothers and sisters gone, their lives taken by Mogadorians…so young…
I sigh and stand. It was time to go.
I take one last look at the bustling city below me before leaping into the air and jetting off in the direction of China.
*n i n e*
I unexpectedly came into my first Legacy early, probably earlier than the other eight. It was by mere coincidence, but my body reacted.
I had just turned 10 and I enjoyed heights. I enjoyed watching the world below me. I had been climbing the big, ancient oak tree behind the house that Darian and I had been living in at the time. I climbed and climbed until I reached the top and could see over the tops of houses in the small town. It had been a delightful summer day and I had closed my eyes, enjoying a gentle breeze between the trees. Italy had beautiful summers…Suddenly, a searing pain began on my right ankle. I screamed, lost my grip on the branches, and fell. As I fell I clutched my ankle, hissing in pain. I probably would have been hurt by the great fall but I never reached the ground. Instead, when I opened my eyes, I was floating. Darian had run to the door, her silver Cepan sword in her hand. She was in a battle stance, but once she saw what was happening she smiled.
She dropped her sword and rushed to me, gathering me in her arms. "I cannot believe it! You have gotten your first legacy!" she whispered into my ear, clearly proud at the development.
After that incident I found out that most Gardes don't even come into their Legacies until, at the earliest, 12 years old. I would have been considered a prodigy in Lorien. My other Legacies continued appearing steadily after that day and Darian trained me accordingly until all of the secrets that had been hidden in the Chest were revealed.
I still have that Chest with me. I keep it as a memory of Lorien…and of Darian.
Author's Note: I had gone to watch I Am Number Four recently and fell in love with the story line. A muse appeared and I just had to write. The first chapter maybe a bit iffy but stay tuned for the rest!