A/N: Disclaimer in Chapter One. I don't really have much to say here, except that the official Rise of Nine is coming out in just three weeks now, and that I'm really looking forward to it. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter- and I'm curious to know what you'll think of the final member of the Garde.
Four:
We break apart hurriedly, and I catch a hint of embarrassment in Six's hazel eyes as she searches out the source of the voice. It doesn't take long- Sam is standing, arms crossed, in the doorway, flanked by Marina and Ella. Ella seems to be failing to suppress a giggle, and even Marina has a slight smirk on her face.
"I take it you've fully recovered, John?" Sam asks pointedly.
I nod, not wanting to provoke him.
"Good," he says tersely. "Go make yourself useful- search the house or something. Maybe you can find something that will tell us what happened to Five and his Cèpan."
I'm taken aback at how quickly Sam has started to give orders, like he's the one in charge. I do as told, though, and leave through the far door. I sneak a look behind me as I go, and see Sam leading Marina over to Eight' subconscious form while Ella chatters excitedly with Six. She seems far more enthused than Six does, and sure enough, when Six sees me looking at her she breaks off the conversation abruptly, walking towards me.
"Mind if I explore with you?" she asks.
"Can't bear to be away from me for more than a moment?" I respond jokingly as we walk out into the hallway that lies beyond the door.
Six rolls her eyes impatiently. I notice that she's gotten rather good at it.
"Actually, I just didn't want to be in the same room as Sam at the moment, if you know what I mean."
"Or Ella, for that matter," she adds as an afterthought.
"Speaking of Ella," I say as we round a corner and walk through another long banquet hall, "what were the two of you talking about back there?"
Another eye-roll, this one expressing Six's disbelief that I'm so stupid. Or something like that- it can be hard to tell sometimes.
"She's a eleven-year old girl who walked on two of her friends kissing, John. What do you think she was asking about?"
"Ah- that makes sense, Liz."
"Did you just call me Liz?" Six asks incredulously.
"I just thought that we should be on a first-name basis by now," I say, shrugging.
"So you decide to call me Liz? Are you feeling all right, John?"
"Well I started with Maren-Elizabeth, but that was too long, so then I thought about Mare, but that sounds too close to Marina, which could get confusing, and Elizabeth sounded too British, so I settled on Liz."
Six looks at me like I've gone mad, shaking her head resignedly.
"You know," she says thoughtfully, "if that weren't so cute in some idiotic kind of way I'd probably beat you up for calling me Liz."
I raise a questioning eyebrow. "You really think you could beat me up? With my new super-amazing fire abilities?"
"Oh please," Six says. "Do I have to put you flat on your back again just to wear down your tough-guy persona?"
"As much as I'd like to say yes…" I trail off, earning myself a glare from Six.
"In your dreams…" she mutters.
"How did you know?" I ask sarcastically.
"Don't even… that's just creepy." Six says.
"Relax- I'm kidding. Most of my dreams these days are about xenocidal aliens."
We walk in silence for a while, and then we come to a stop at the end of the hall. There are doors to the left and right, both unmarked and identical.
"Which way?" I ask.
"Left," Six says confidently, starting to walk towards that door. "No, wait," she says, stopping mid-stride, "right. I think."
"This isn't a major life decision, you know," I say chidingly.
"I know. I just suddenly got the feeling that we should go right," she says, pushing open the door.
It leads to an ornately decorated dining room, complete with an intricate crystal chandelier, artistic centerpiece and fine china. The circular table is set for nine, but oddly there are only six chairs. Six strides purposely across the room to the second chair on the left and lifts up the plate, peering underneath it.
"I don't suppose it would be worth asking what you're—"
I stop abruptly, looking in shock at the folded piece of paper Six is holding. She unfolds it, and I read over her shoulder.
To Whoever Finds This:
I really hope there aren't any Mogadorian eyes reading this note. I charmed it just like Alexis said to, so I hope it draws some of the other numbers to it first. Anyway, I should get to the point.
We're under attack. Alexis spotted them from the tower just a few seconds ago, and they'll be crashing through the front door soon. Alexis told me to write this, to explain what's happening, and then to run. He said he'd stay, hold them off so that I could make it. I wanted to argue with him, tell him that we could both get away in time, but he wouldn't have any of it. He said that his only job was to ensure my safety, and he could best do that by staying.
I'm headed to the airport, like he said. My flight leaves at 8, so if you find this soon enough I'll still be there,
If not… well, I have my communicator. Hopefully we'll be able to get in touch.
I don't have time to explain any more. I still have one final goodbye to say before I leave.
The note is signed, simply, "Five".
"So that's how you knew it was there," I say as Six inhales deeply, folding the note and putting it in her pocket.
She nods. "It was… pulling me, almost, towards that spot. The feeling's gone away now that I found it."
"So then why didn't I feel it?" I ask, puzzled.
Six shrugs. "Maybe I was just paying more attention to my surroundings."
We start to walk back towards the room where the others are when Six speaks again.
"You realize what this means, don't you?" she asks.
"What what means?" I ask.
"The note- it means that of the twenty Loric who came here only eight are left- numbers Four through Ten and Crayton. One Cèpan for seven Garde. It means that there's only one person left who knows the exact details of what we need to do to win this war."
Six seems rather bothered by this fact, and rather than emptily reassuring her, I trust her instincts.
"Do you think we should talk to Crayton about that?" I ask cautiously.
"Well we have to take this to him anyways," she says, indicating the note, "so we might as well while we're there. I mean," she continues, "it's just ridiculous the way it is. Our mission is in the sole hands of one person, who isn't even one of the Garde. It's just too risky for us to carry on like this."
She is, of course, right, but given Crayton's continued reluctance to dispense 'unnecessary' information, I doubt talking to him will do much good.
"I see what you mean," I reply. "If he were killed, we'd all be pretty much finished as well effectively."
Six nods. "Exactly. I'm glad you agree with me."
With that we start to walk back towards the room where the others are, following the same route as not to get lost. Frankly, despite the urgency of our needing to meet Five, I can't say I'm looking forward to driving back to the airport, taking yet another flight to some undoubtedly obscure location and trying to hunt him down. What I need right now is rest. Lots of food and lots of sleep for a couple of days, just to recharge my batteries, so to speak, and make our arduous task seem less daunting. But I doubt Crayton has rest anywhere near his list of priorities. He's even worse than Six was when me and Sam first met her, insisting we go from place to place every night in flight from the Mogs. Events have been moving at a furious pace ever since we met up with Crayton, and I know that I, for one, need some time to catch my breath.
When we walk into the room, the sight that greets us is not encouraging. While Nine is up on his feet again and Crayton is talking with Ella, there's still a body on the floor. It belongs, of course, to Eight. Sam and Marina are crouched beside her, a pained expression on both of their faces. Marina has her hands on Eight's shoulders, presumably trying to heal her, but it doesn't seem to be having any effect. As I watch Sam's face, I can see frustration growing on it. Me and Six walk over to them cautiously, not sure how to act.
"What's happening?" Six asks Marina, who is starting to look impatient herself.
"Oh… it's you," she says, looking up from Eight. "Nine and Crayton woke up quickly, but this trance- or whatever it is, seems to have a stronger grip on Eight."
Sam doesn't greet either of us, continuing to stare at Eight's blank features. I crouch down beside him, but he doesn't notice me. I don't know what to say to him, or even if he'd hear it if I did. Marina notices me looking at him, worried, and turns to face me.
"He, on the other hand," she says quietly, "there's nothing I can do for. So far as I can tell he's just in shock now that the adrenaline of the fight has worn off. He'll be fine as soon as she wakes up, probably."
That's what Marina said fifteen minutes ago, now. We've been waiting here all this time, and Eight still hasn't showed any sign of life besides the slow rise and fall of her chest. Sam has been recovering from his shock over the last couple of minutes, and while he still looks worried, he can now register our presences.
"I'm sorry," Marina says hesitantly after a further five minutes of waiting. The others have joined us now, standing around Eight's body, "but there's nothing I can do for her at the moment. She'll be fine," she adds quickly, "but I think there are just some things her mind needs to work out before she'll come back to us."
Crayton sighs. "Thanks, Marina," he says. "We all know you did what you could."
Why is Crayton talking so… morbidly? It's like Eight was dead instead of just unconscious. Although if she doesn't recover soon, it'll be hard not to fear the worst.
Six takes advantage of the momentary silence to show the note she found to Crayton. He scans it quickly, and looks relieved.
"Thanks for finding this," he says gratefully.
He then raises his voice to address the group.
"Good news," he says. "According to this, Five is still alive, and headed for the airport."
That statement is greeted with a quiet cheer from the others.
"We'll have to be quick if we want to catch him before he leaves," Crayton says, checking his watch.
"I'll go and bring the car around," Nine offers. He goes to do so, and is followed by Marina and Ella.
That leaves just me, Six, Sam and Crayton in the room. Crayton starts to follow the others, but stops back just shy of the door to address Six and me.
"If you wouldn't mind," he asks, "could I bother you two to bring Eight with you?"
"Of course," I reply, and then under my breath, "you mean we shouldn't leave her here?"
As Crayton leaves, me and Six stand on opposite sides of Eight.
"On three," Six says. "One…Tw—"
"No," Sam interrupts forcefully. "It's okay. I'll take her."
"Are you sure?" Six makes the mistake of asking. She doesn't know Sam as well as I do- when he decides he's going to do something, he refuses to be talked out of it.
He shoots her a glare. "I may not be Loric," he says pointedly, "but that doesn't mean I can't do anything."
He then walks directly between us, bending to pick up Eight. He staggers slightly as he rises- not because Eight is heavy, which she definitely isn't, but because Sam, despite his massive determination and resolve, isn't the strongest of guys. I'm impressed by the fact that he's able to carry her at all, to be honest. I use my telekinesis to help him by pulling slightly upwards on Eight- just enough so that he won't hurt himself on the way to the car.
He walks steadily towards the door, Eight's limp body resting in his arms. Me and Six follow behind him silently. The three of us are once again standing in a triangle- just like when Sam and I had our first awkward re-union with Six after she got back from Spain. But everything has changed since then. We're moving forward- towards a victory over the Mogadorians, thanks to Crayton, and hopefully towards happiness as well.
When we get back outside, we find that Nine has indeed pulled the car around. He's having a heated argument with Crayton through the driver's window- which he seems to win, causing Crayton to throw up his hands in frustration and slide into the passenger seat.
Sam carefully lowers Eight into a seat, sliding in beside her. As soon as I get in, closing the door behind me, Nine guns the engine, apparently eager to ensure that we catch Five before he leaves. I share the sentiment- I really don't want to be stuck on another plane traveling to a different continent in search of Five. As we pull onto the main road, Nine increases his speed to what must be at least twice the legal limit, and despite the rush we're in I find myself wishing he'd slow down. This would be a bad time for us to be pulled over, seeing as we're in a hurry, I'm pretty sure Nine doesn't have a driver's license, and the police would probably think we'd drugged the still unresponsive Eight.
"All right, I'll slow down," Nine says telepathically. "No need to have a cow back there, Four. Just don't blame me if we're late."
True to his word, he does slow down slightly, but if I hadn't been watching the speedometer at the time I probably wouldn't have noticed. We make it to the airport in a time that would have put NASCAR drivers to shame, but our progress is halted by an unexpected problem.
"What are we going to do with her?" Ella asks, pointing to Eight as Nine pulls into a parking space.
"Well we can't take her with us," Nine says. "That would look pretty suspicious."
"We can't just leave her here!" Sam snaps. "What if she woke up and didn't know where we were?"
"All right, I'll take her," Six finally says. "Might as well put my invisibility to good use."
She vanishes from view, followed shortly by Eight. The group of us then set off at a brisk walk towards the terminal, which evolves into a sprint as Crayton looks again at his watch.
We draw some curious looks from passers-by as we charge through the terminal, but they probably just assume we're really late for our flight. We eventually come to a halt by a row of seats just outside of security not thirty seconds later, unable to proceed any further without tickets. Marina jumps, startled, as Eight appears suddenly on a seat near her.
"Just sit here," Six's voice hisses, emanating from unnervingly empty air. "I'll go bring him back here."
We all grab seats around Eight, trying to look relaxed. Several tense, silent minutes pass before Six reappears, with Five in tow. She lets go of his hand just a second after they become visible, and I feel for the briefest of moments how Sarah must have felt about my midnight walks with Six. The feeling increases three-fold, however, when I get my first good look at Five. He's about my height, with light, sandy blond hair, pale green eyes and a nervous smile that girls probably think is cute. The odd thing though, is that he looks… perfect. He doesn't have a strand of hair out of place, the tiniest hint of acne or bags under his eyes. For someone who just survived a Mogadorian attack… too perfect. He surveys the group quietly, seemingly anxious at the thought of having to meet us all at once. Then his eyes flicker over to Eight, and fear floods to his face.
"Is she…" he trails off. His voice is melodic, musical almost.
"She'll be fine," Crayton says assertively, extending his hand to Five. "It's a long story."
Five shakes Crayton's hand, and I notice muscles bulging in his forearm as he does. My eyes scan his face again, and for a split second he looks directly at me, and I can't look away. He stares at me for a couple of seconds, and then turns away, allowing me to as well. I look at the rest of the group, only to find that the same thing seems to be happening to them. The girls- even Ella, for goodness sake, are falling all over themselves to flirt with him, and Nine and Sam, not to mention Crayton, seem to be transfixed whenever his gaze falls on them. Something isn't right here.
Crayton finally surfaces from whatever aura Five is projecting.
"We should be going," he says. "There are a lot of things we need to explain."
"But… what about her ?" Five asks, looking at Eight, confused.
"That's my job," Six says coyly, winking as she goes invisible.
We head off back to the truck, presumably to drive off to some 'safe' location. Five walks in the middle of the pack with Crayton, followed closely by Marina and Ella. Nine takes point, leaving me and Sam to bring up the rear.
"Does something about Five bother you?" I ask Sam quietly.
He doesn't respond. I track his eyes, and somehow it doesn't surprise me to find them locked on Five.
"Sam!" I say, nudging him with my shoulder.
"Huh?" he asks, spinning around annoyedly.
"I asked you if something about Five bothered you!"
"Not yet," Sam says coolly, suddenly lucid. "I assume from that question that you don't like him?"
I shake my head. "Something about him doesn't seem quite right."
"Could it just be that you're worried Six will like him better than you?"
"That's ridiculous! Why would I be worried about that?"
"Aside from the fact that she couldn't keep her eyes off of him, no reason."
"But that's what I mean," I say frustratedly. "Everybody's staring at him. Not just the girls, but you and Nine as well! Even I was for a while! Doesn't that seem unnatural to you?"
Sam pauses to consider. "Good point. That is weird."
"You know," he says after a longer pause, by which time we've reached the parking lot, "he is Loric. Maybe one of his Legacies is that everybody he meets instantly likes him."
What Sam says makes sense, but if it's true, we'll be in for a difficult time. If it keeps on like this, Marina and Six will be fighting over him by the end of the week. And Eight hasn't even seen him yet. Although, at this rate, waking up and being in his presence might just knock her right back out again.
The truck, spacious as it is, is cramped with yet another person in it, and I find myself squished between the door on one side and a comatose Eight on the other.
"So who wants to stay in a hotel tonight?" Crayton asks as he steers onto the highway, having reclaimed the driver's seat from Five. A loud cheer erupts from the back in response.
"I figured you guys might feel that way," Crayton says, "so I took the liberty of booking us a couple of rooms at the Hyatt. Besides, there's some stuff we need to discuss, and we might as well do it in comfort."
We arrive at the Hyatt shortly after, and it isn't long before we're all gathered in a suite, sitting on whatever furniture we can find. Once again the activity seems to gravitate around Five- but Sam at least, after our earlier conversation is acting normal.
Crayton has us go around in turn, introducing ourselves and our Legacies. It's pretty boring for us, but I guess it will help Five 'fit in'. As if he needs help. Six continues to be shamelessly flirtatious with Five, to the point where Crayton actually has to tell her to be quiet so that Nine can speak. Since we've met Five, Six seems to be acting more and more like Sarah, or even one of the girls in the 'popular' clique at my old high school, fawning over boys, than the Six I know and love.
Once we've all finished there's an awkward silence as we all look at Eight, who is obviously in no shape to introduce herself.
"She's Eight," Sam finally says quietly. "Her Legacies are telekinesis, transparency and transference."
"What happened to her?" Five asks in that annoying voice of his.
"We were in a fight with one of the Mogadorian lieutenants," Crayton says. "A vile beast that uses terror as a weapon to paralyze its enemies. She was exposed to so much terror, and for so long, that her mind has basically shut down. We don't know how long it'll be before she recovers."
Or even if she will, I add silently.
"I might be able to help with that," Five says thoughtfully.
"I already tried healing her, if that's what you mean," Marina says. "I don't think we can help her with what she's going through."
"That's not what I meant," Five says. "You see, one of my Legacies is… well, I'm not sure how to put it- I'm not really an empath, but I'm good with emotions and stuff like that. I might be able to balance the terror she's experiencing with courage or hope, or something of that sort.
I raise an eyebrow at Sam, who nods knowingly. 'Good with emotions', sure. I'd bet anything that he can manipulate them, and that that's what he's been doing constantly ever since we met him.
"You can try," Crayton says.
Five nods, carefully reaching out to place a hand on Eight's forehead. Then he lets out a sudden scream, an ear-piercing, fear-inducing scream, and his eyes roll back in his head as he slumps to the ground next to Eight.