Pittacus Lore - The Fall of Five

Ella nods, not looking eager to revisit her latest nightmare. Bernie Kosar, curled up at her feet, nuzzles against her.

“It was Chicago after a major battle,” Marina clarifies.

“Is he taunting us?” Six asks. “Or is it like some kind of prophecy?”

“I thought we were done with prophecies,” Eight says, rolling his eyes.

“Sometimes there’s a little bit of truth in the nightmares,” I say.

“Like when we had that vision about New Mexico,” Nine chimes in.

“Yeah, but other times, it’s like he’s just trying to screw with us.”

“The content doesn’t worry me so much as the fact that Setrákus Ra is able to transmit them at all,” says Malcolm, deep lines forming in his face as he thinks this through. “Do you think it’s possible he’s tracking us through the dreams?”

“If he could do that, wouldn’t we already be fighting off Mogs?” Eight replies. “Why even bother drawing John and Nine off to New Mexico?”

I nod in agreement, thinking back to the visions Nine and I shared. “Even though the nightmares can be creepily specific, I don’t think he knows where we are. It’s more like he’s trying to make us slip up.”

“The question, then, is how do we stop the nightmares?” Malcolm asks.

“I’ve got a solution,” Six says, and everyone looks in her direction. She takes a considering sip from a mug of coffee. “Let’s go kill Setrákus Ra.”

Nine claps his hands and points at Six. “I like the way this chick thinks.”

“Oh, is it that easy?” Five asks, speaking up for the first time. “You make it sound like taking out the trash.”

“I wish it were so simple,” I say. “But we don’t know where he is and, even if we could find him, that’s not going to be an easy fight. The last time we went up against him almost killed us.”

“We could get him to come to us,” Nine suggests, glancing over at Five. “Maybe fire up some more crop circles.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sam says. I noticed him shifting in his seat at the mention of Setrákus Ra.

“He’s not serious,” Five says, glaring in Nine’s direction. “He’s mocking me.”

Nine shrugs and feigns a yawn. “Whatever. I really do think we should go fight something.”

“That’s all you ever want to do,” Eight cuts in.

“Yeah, it’s my thing.”

“For the first time ever, we’re together,” I say, keeping my voice measured. “We have the element of surprise on our side. We’ve got an opportunity to prepare and pick our next battle. Let’s not rush into anything.”

“John’s right,” Marina says. “There’s still so much we don’t know about ourselves, our powers, our Chests.”

“It’d be good to know exactly what we’re working with,” Eight says. “We did some training with Nine in the Lecture Hall the other day. It was helpful. Surprisingly so.”

Nine grins. “Compliment taken, insult ignored.”

“Yeah,” Sarah chimes in. “I think I speak for all of us humans when I say a little more combat training wouldn’t hurt.”

“Learning what our Chests contain would help too,” I offer. “Maybe we could figure out which items are those Phoenix Stones that Malcolm was talking about.”

“An inventory seems to be in order,” Malcolm says.

“Which means we need to make finding your Chest a top priority,” I say, looking over at Five.

“Absolutely,” Five replies, seeming about as certain as I’ve ever seen him. “I know exactly where to go. We can do that whenever you want.”

“That might make a good first mission,” Eight says. “Especially if we could get it done under the Mog radar.”

“I still think we should just blow up their freaking radar,” Nine grumbles.

“Soon, buddy,” I reply. “For now, we need to play it safe. Gather our strength. Malcolm, what about the Mogadorian guy? Adam?”

Malcolm shakes his head, his features sagging. “I’ve hooked up a tracker so we’ll be alerted if his cell phone turns on, but nothing yet. I fear the worst.”

“Maybe he just ditched his phone,” suggests Sam, trying to cheer up his forlorn- looking dad.

“We got a bit off topic here, didn’t we?” Six puts in. “What about Ella’s nightmares?”

It’s Ella, who has been listening quietly, that responds. “I’ll tough them out. The next time that big freak gets into my head, I’m going to punch him in the balls.”

“Whoa!”

“All right,” I say, grinning. “Meeting adjourned.”

Later, the four of us that still have our Chests gather in the workshop with Malcolm. I’m happy to help out—I’m just not sure how much use I’ll be. Adelina wasn’t around enough to explain what any of the stuff in my Chest does.

From the Lecture Hall comes the muffled sound of Six training marksmanship with Sam, Sarah and Ella. I think Five is in there too, although he didn’t look too thrilled about the prospect of learning to shoot. Nine stares longingly at the door to the Lecture Hall. Sighing dramatically, he starts rummaging through his Chest.

“Check this out,” Nine says. He holds up a small purple stone and then places it on the back of his hand. The stone slides into his hand—through it. Nine turns his hand over just as the stone pops out in his palm. “Pretty cool, right?” he asks me, waggling his eyebrows.

“Uh, but what is it supposed to do?” Eight asks, looking up from his own Chest.

“I dunno. Impress girls?” Nine looks over at me. “Did it work?”

“Um . . .” I hesitate, trying not to roll my eyes too hard. “Not really. But, I’ve seen guys teleport so I’m kind of hard to impress.”

“Tough crowd.”

“What does it feel like when it passes through your hand?” Malcolm asks. He holds a pen poised over a clipboard.

“Uh, kinda weird, I guess. My hand goes numb until the stone passes through.” Nine shrugs, glancing around. “You guys want a try?”

“Yes, actually,” Malcolm says. When he puts the stone on his hand, nothing happens. “Hmm. I guess it’s Loric only.”

Malcolm hands the stone back to Nine. Instead of putting it back into his Chest, Nine shoves the purple stone into his pocket. Maybe he’s going to go out and try to impress some ladies later.

John holds up a collection of brittle-looking leaves, the bundle held together by some yellowed twine. He cradles them gently in his hands, unsure what to make of them.

“This has to be something to do with Lorien, right?”

“Maybe it’s a reminder from Henri that you’re supposed to rake the lawn,” Nine says, digging through his own Chest again. “I don’t have any dumb leaves in here.”

Malcolm peers at the bundle in John’s hands. Gently, he runs his index finger along the edge of a leaf. I almost expect the delicate little thing to crumble. Suddenly, the sound of a gentle breeze fills the room. It stops as soon as Malcolm pulls back his finger.

“You all heard that?” he asks.

“Sounded like someone left a window open,” Eight says, looking around at the four walls cluttered with equipment. Not a shred of daylight comes through anywhere.

“It was the sound of wind on Lorien,” John says, his eyes getting distant. “Somehow, I know that’s what it was.”

“Do it again,” Nine says, and I’m a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. But then, I really want to hear the wind again too. There was something comforting about it.

John brushes his hands through the leaves and this time the sound is fuller. My skin prickles; it’s almost as if I can feel the fresh Loric air on my skin. It’s beautiful.

“Amazing,” Eight says.

“But what is it for?” Nine asks, returning to his usual bluntness.