Pittacus Lore - The Power of Six

I sit up, my back flat against the headboard, rereading my father’s name over and over. The lump in my throat expands into a rock. I wish Sarah was here urging me to read on, her head on my shoulder. I focus my eyes on the next paragraph.

When you were just a small child, your father came around even when he wasn’t supposed to. He adored you, and he could sit for hours watching you play in the grass with Hadley (I wonder now, have you discovered Bernie Kosar’s true identity?). And while I’m sure you don’t remember much of those youthful days, I can safely say you were a happy boy. For a brief while, you had the sort of childhood all children deserve, though not all receive.

While I spent considerable time with your father, I met your mother only once. Her name was Lara and, like your father, she was reserved and maybe even a little shy. I tell you this now because I want you to know who you are and who you come from. You come from a simple family of simple means, and the truth that I’ve always wanted to share with you is that we didn’t leave Lorien because of where we happened to be that day. Our being at the airfield, it wasn’t sheer happenstance. We were there because when the attack began, the Garde rallied together to get you there. Many sacrificed their lives in the process. There were supposed to be ten of you, though as you know only nine made it off.

Tears blur my vision. I slide my fingers over my mother’s name. Lara. Lara and Liren. I wonder what my Loric name was, if it also started with an L . I wonder, if there wasn’t a war, if I would have had a younger sister or brother. So much has been taken from me.

When the ten of you were born, Lorien recognized your strong hearts, your wills, your compassion, and in turn she bestowed the ten of you with the roles you’re all meant to assume: the roles of the original ten Elders. What this means is that, in time, those of you left will grow to be far stronger than anything Lorien has ever seen before, far stronger even than the original ten Elders from whom you’ve received your Inheritances. The Mogadorians know this, which is why they’re hunting you so feverishly now. They’ve grown desperate and have flooded this planet with spies. I never told you the truth because I feared it might drive you to arrogance and that you might be led astray, and there’s far too much danger out there looking for you to risk that. I urge you . . . become strong, grow into the role you are meant to assume, and then find the others. Those of you left, you can still win this war.

The last thing I have to tell you is that we didn’t move to Paradise by chance. Your Legacies were delayed and I had begun to worry, and when my worry grew to a full-out panic when the third scar appeared-knowing you are next-I decided to seek out the one man who might hold the key to finding the others.

When we arrived on Earth there were nine humans waiting for us who understood our situation and our need to scatter. They were allies of the Loric, and the last time we were here-fifteen years ago-they were all given a transmission device that would turn itself on only if it came into contact with one of our ships. They were there that night to provide us guidance in the transition from Lorien to Earth, to help us get started. None of us had ever been here before. When we stepped off the ship, we were each given two pairs of clothes, a packet of instructions to help us learn this planet’s ways, and a slip of paper with an address on it. The addresses were a place to start, not to stay, and none of us knew where the others were headed. Ours led us to a small town in Northern California. It was a nice, quiet place fifteen minutes from the coast. I taught you to ride a bike there, and fly a kite, and more simple things like tying your shoes, which I had to first teach myself. We stayed six months, and then we went about our way, as I knew we must.

The man who met you and me, our guide, was from here, from Paradise; and I sought him because I was desperate to know where the others first went. But when we arrived here, the dark stars must have fallen, because the man was already gone.

This man who met us that first day, who gave us a cultural guide to follow and who set us up in our first homes, his name was Malcolm Goode. Sam’s father.

What I’m telling you now, John, is that I believe Sam was right; I believe his father was abducted. For Sam’s sake, I can only hope he’s still alive. And if Sam’s still with you, I ask that you tell him this information, and I hope he finds comfort in hearing it.

Become who you’re meant to become, John. Grow strong and powerful and never forget for a minute the things you’ve learned along the way. Be noble, confident, and brave. Live with the same sort of dignity and valor that you inherited from your father, and trust in your heart and your will, as Lorien trusts in it still to this day. Never lose faith in yourself, and never lose hope; remember, even when this world throws its worst and then turns its back, there is still always hope.

And I’m certain, someday, you’ll make it back home.

With love,

Your Friend and Cepan,

– H

Blood pounds in my ears; and despite what Henri has written, I know in my heart that if we’d left Paradise when he’d wanted to, then he’d still be alive. We’d still be together. He came to the school to save me, because it was his duty to, and because he loved me. And now he’s gone.

I take a deep breath, wipe my face with the back of my hand, and then walk from my room. Despite his bad leg, Sam insisted on taking the second floor, even when Six and I offered to take it instead. I go up the stairs now and knock on his door. I enter and flip his bedside lamp on, and I see his father’s old glasses on the nightstand. Sam stirs.

“Sam? Hey, Sam. Sorry to wake you up, but there’s some major shit you need to know.”

That gets his attention and he pulls off the blanket. “Tell me then.”

“First, you have to promise not to get mad. I want you to know that I had no idea of any of what I’m about to tell you until just now. And whatever Henri’s reasons were for not telling you to your face, you have to forgive him.”

He scoots up the mattress until his back rests on the headboard. “Damn, John. Tell me already.”

“Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise.”

I hand him the letter. “I should have read it sooner, Sam. I’m really sorry I didn’t.”

I leave the room and close his door to give him the privacy he deserves. I’m not sure how he’ll react. There’s no telling how a person will accept the answer to the question they’ve asked most of their life, the question that’s haunted them.

I walk down the stairs and slip out the back door with Bernie Kosar, who runs into the forest. I sit on the top of a picnic table. I can see my breath in the cool February air. Darkness is pushed to the west, while the morning light bleeds in from the east. I stare up at the half-moon and wonder if Sarah is looking at it, or if any of the others might be seeing it. Me and the others, the five still alive, are meant to assume the roles of the Elders. I still don’t entirely understand what that means. Then I close my eyes and lift my face towards the sky. I stay that way until the door slides open behind me. I turn, expecting to see Sam, but it’s Six. She climbs up on the picnic table and sits next to me. I offer her a weak smile, but she doesn’t return it.

“I heard you walk out here. Is everything okay? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?” she asks.

“What? No. Why?”

“All I know is he’s crying on the couch downstairs and he won’t talk to me.”