The Revenge of Seven

  ‘I should tell you, I’m not exactly well liked among my people,’ he says. ‘They might not listen to me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s a risk,’ I admit. ‘Worst-case scenario, they take you prisoner, right?’

  Adam grimaces. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So, we let them take us where we’re going. Don’t worry. We’ll rescue you.’

  ‘Uh, you need to do something,’ Marina says, waving towards the windshield. The ship directly in front of us, getting impatient or suspicious, has brought its blaster turret around to aim at us.

  ‘All right, go invisible,’ Adam says. I reach around my seat and grasp Marina’s hand, disappearing the both of us. Sensing the situation, Dust shrinks down into a tiny gray mouse and skitters under Adam’s seat.

  Adam hits a button on the console, and a video feed crackles to life on our screen. A nasty-looking Mogadorian scout, his empty eyes too close together, his teeth short and sharp, stares at Adam with a look of fierce annoyance. He barks something in harsh Mogadorian.

  ‘Immersion protocol dictates we speak English while on Earth, you vatborn cretin,’ Adam replies coldly. He draws himself up in his chair, suddenly so regal that I kinda want to slap him. ‘You are addressing Adamus Sutekh, trueborn son of General Andrakkus Sutekh. I am on urgent business from my father. Lead me to the Loric site immediately.’

  I have to give it to Adam, he’s an excellent bullshitter. The scout’s expression goes from annoyance to confusion and finally to outright fear.

  ‘Yes, sir, right away,’ the scout replies, and in response Adam immediately cuts off the conversation. One by one, the Skimmers break up the ring they had us trapped inside and let us get back on course.

  ‘That worked,’ Marina says, sounding a little stunned as she lets go of my hand.

  ‘For now,’ Adam replies, frowning uncertainly. ‘He was low ranking. Whoever’s in command will be a different story.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell them your dad sent you down here to check their progress?’ I ask.

  ‘Assuming they don’t know I betrayed our people and that my father essentially sentenced me to die? Yeah, that might work.’

  ‘You only need to distract them for a little bit,’ I say. ‘Long enough for Marina and me to figure a way into the Sanctuary.’

  ‘There it is,’ Marina says, watching through the window as the Skimmers begin to descend towards Calakmul.

  There are a bunch of ancient little buildings below, all of them constructed from limestone that’s been eroding for centuries, the jungle creeping in to reclaim them. My eyes are drawn to the huge pyramid-shaped temple that towers over them all; built on a low hill, the temple is blocky, covered in steep and crumbling staircases that are chiseled right into the stone. I can’t quite make it out from this distance, but there appears to be some kind of door at the top of the pyramid.

  ‘How much you want to bet we need to climb up to that thing?’ I say.

  ‘It’s the Sanctuary,’ Marina replies. ‘I’m certain of it.’

  ‘So are my people, obviously,’ Adam says.

  The Mogadorians have cleared the jungle around the Sanctuary in a perfect ring, the trees all chopped down, an entire fleet of Mogadorian scout ships parked on the naked soil. Besides the dozens of Skimmers, I can make out an array of tents where the Mogs must be camping. There’s also what looks to be a couple of heavy-duty missile launchers and blaster turrets, all of these weapons aimed at the temple, and yet the structure looks completely untouched. Oddly, at the base of the temple and creeping up the sides, there are still overgrown trees and vines, untended for years. It’s a stark contrast to the severe neatness of the Mogadorian perimeter, where everything natural has been cleared away.

  ‘It’s like something kept them from getting too close,’ Marina says, noticing the same thing as me.

  ‘Malcolm did say that only the Garde could enter,’ I reply.

  Our escort of Mog ships float down to the makeshift airfield and Adam lands a few yards away from them. The Sanctuary looms in the distance. The only thing standing between us and the Loric temple is a strip of wide-open land and a small army of Mogadorians, many of whom have begun gathering in the airfield, all of them armed with blasters.

  ‘Some welcoming committee,’ I say, glancing at Adam. He watches his people mass on the monitor, swallows hard and unbuckles himself from the pilot’s seat.

  ‘All right, I’ll go first. Lead them away somehow. You guys get into the Sanctuary.’

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Marina says. ‘There’s a lot of them.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ Adam says. ‘Just get inside and do what you have to do.’

  With that, Adam opens the cockpit and hops on to the Skimmer’s hull. There are about thirty Mogadorians down below, waiting on him, with more walking over from the tents. Marina and I hunker down inside the Skimmer, my hand close to hers in case we need to go invisible.

  ‘Who’s in charge here?’ Adam yells, standing tall and rigid, again putting on his trueborn airs.

  A tall female warrior dressed in a sleeveless black overcoat steps forward. She has two thick braids that start on the sides of her head and wrap around it, encircling the traditional Mogadorian tattoos on her scalp. Her hands are wrapped in dusty white bandages, like they’ve recently been injured or burned.

  ‘I am Phiri Dun-Ra, trueborn daughter of the honorable Magoth Dun-Ra,’ the warrior shouts to Adam. Her posture is nearly as imposing and rigid as his. ‘Why have you come here, Sutekh?’

  Adam hops down from our ship, tossing his head to flip his hair out of his eyes.

  ‘Orders from Beloved Leader himself. I am to inspect this site to prepare for his arrival.’

  A tremor passes through the crowd when Adam mentions Setrákus Ra. Many of the Mogs exchange nervous glances. Phiri Dun-Ra, however, appears nonplussed. She strides forward, letting her blaster dangle idly next to her hip. Something tightens up in my stomach at the sight of her. The predatory way she moves, the glint in her eye like trouble could spark at any moment. She’s way sharper than the other Mog warriors I’ve encountered.

  ‘Ah, Beloved Leader. Of course,’ Phiri says. She waves to the temple in the distance. ‘What would you like to see first, sir?’

  Adam takes a step towards the Mog camp and opens his mouth to speak. Smoothly, without warning, Phiri lifts her blaster and cracks Adam across the mouth with the handle. As he falls to the ground, the rest of the Mogadorians level their blasters at him in unison.

  ‘How about the inside of a cell, traitor?’ Phiri snarls, standing over Adam, her blaster pointed at his face.

  24

  I extend my hand to Marina and she grasps it immediately. Invisible, we carefully climb out of the ship, synchronizing our movements. Behind us, I hear a sudden flapping of wings. Dust takes flight in the shape of a tropical bird, his wings flecked with gray. None of the Mogs notice him soar out of the cockpit, and they don’t hear Marina and me leap down to the ground.

  They’re too distracted by the show Phiri Dun-Ra is putting on with Adam.

  ‘I know your father, Sutekh,’ Phiri is saying, projecting her voice so that the Mogs gathered in a semicircle around her and Adam can all hear. ‘He’s a bastard, but at least he’s noble. He believes in Mogadorian Progress.’

  If Adam manages a reply, I can’t hear it over the murmur of agreement that comes from the other Mogs. I catch a glimpse of him through the crowd – he’s crumpled at Phiri’s feet, scrabbling in the dirt, trying to regain his feet but probably still seeing stars.

  ‘In fact, your father gave me this assignment,’ Phiri continues. ‘I was responsible for a team that allowed a Garde to escape from the West Virginia stronghold. The punishment was either death or a journey here. Not much of a choice, really. You see, if we fail, we’ll all be executed anyway. The only way to live is for us to deliver the Sanctuary.’

  At the word ‘Sanctuary,’ Phiri makes a sarcastically dramatic gesture with her two bandaged hands that e
ncompasses the whole of the temple. I hesitate for a moment to listen to what else she has to say.

  ‘There’s not a day goes by that I don’t wonder if I made the wrong decision. Maybe a quick death would have been better. You see, Sutekh, all of us were sent here as punishment,’ Phiri explains. It occurs to me that she’s not just talking to Adam – she’s also trying to fire up her troops. Maybe morale gets low in the jungle. ‘We were sent to this forsaken place to bring down the impenetrable shield that surrounds whatever spoils the Loric have hidden within. For all of us, it is our last chance to impress Beloved Leader. It’s the perfect place for a traitor like you.’

  Phiri crouches down in front of Adam.

  ‘So do you know the secret to the Sanctuary? Have you come here to redeem yourself at last?’

  ‘Yeah,’ comes Adam’s groggy reply. ‘If it’s a force field, try throwing yourself at it.’

  Phiri actually laughs at Adam’s quip. It’s that laugh that gets me moving again – it has an air of menace to it, like her little sideshow is about to wrap up. That means we have to hurry.

  I tug Marina and we slip behind the gathered Mogadorians. Adam’s created one hell of a diversion – if we were sticking to the plan, we could make it inside the perimeter of the Sanctuary easily. But I’m not willing to leave Adam to his fate, and I don’t think Marina is either. Instead of heading for the temple, we move swiftly towards one of the mounted blaster turrets that the Mogs have been using to fruitlessly fire at whatever force protects the Sanctuary.

  ‘Throw myself at it,’ Phiri is repeating, her laughter dying down. ‘That isn’t such a bad idea, Sutekh. Why don’t you go first?’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Phiri signal to a couple of the warriors in her command. They hustle forward and wrestle Adam to his feet. With Phiri leading the way, the Mogs drag Adam towards the invisible line that divides the cleared Mogadorian section of jungle with the untouched portion surrounding the temple.

  ‘We’ve tried everything short of atomic bombardment to cross into the Sanctuary,’ Phiri says, conversationally. ‘It’s said Beloved Leader knows a way in. It involves the Garde and their little pendants. As you know, they’ve proven to be … elusive. But if you believe the Great Book – and I do – then you know nothing can stand in the way of Mogadorian Progress. Which means this damned force field will come down. I intend to trample whatever Loric magic is keeping us out, in the name of Beloved Leader.’

  ‘Then why haven’t you done it already?’ Adam replies. ‘If nothing can stand in the way of Mogadorian Progress, why aren’t you making any?’

  ‘Maybe because I never had a pretty trueborn boy’s face to use as a battering ram.’

  Marina and I reach the nearest turret. Together, we climb up the steps on the back of the blaster. The thing looks like a mounted jackhammer. There is a windshield with a crosshairs placed over the barrel. There are two handles for turning the gun, with triggers that look like the brakes of a bicycle set next to them.

  ‘Will you be able to fire this thing?’ I whisper to Marina.

  ‘Aim, squeeze, shoot,’ Marina whispers back. ‘It’s pretty intuitive, Six.’

  ‘All right,’ I reply. ‘Hold on.’

  The gun turret requires two hands to operate. Even though all the Mogs are facing away from us, I don’t want to go visible and chance one of them glancing back and ruining our ambush. I carefully place my hand on the back of Marina’s neck before letting go of her hand. This way, she’s able to operate the turret while the two of us still remain invisible. Slowly, Marina starts moving the turret so that it’s pointed at the Mogs. The gun needs oiling – it makes a metallic whine when she moves it. I wave my free hand in the air and quickly summon a strong gust of wind to cover the sound.

  ‘Let me give you a preview of what you’re in for,’ Phiri is saying. She’s got Adam right in front of the invisible barrier now, her goons forcing him on to his knees. She unwraps the bandages around one of her hands, revealing horribly charred flesh. ‘This is what the Loric shield does when we mistakenly run up against it.’

  ‘You should be more careful,’ Adam replies.

  At a nod from Phiri, the two warriors grapple Adam into a half-bent position, securing his arm so that they can press it against the force field.

  Phiri leers down at Adam. ‘There are rumors about you, Sutekh. They say you’re part Garde now. Maybe you’re just what we need to get into the Sanctuary. Maybe a freak like you will short-circuit the force field and today will be the day we enter the Sanctuary in the name of Beloved Leader.’

  ‘One way or another, today’s your last day at the Sanctuary,’ Adam replies through gritted teeth. ‘I promise you that.’

  Adam’s words make Phiri hesitate. She glances back towards our ship, suddenly realizing that maybe Adam didn’t come alone. She’s too late.

  Marina has the turret lined up on the crowd of Mogs.

  ‘Ready?’ she whispers to me.

  ‘Light ’em up.’

  Marina’s invisible hands squeeze down the turret’s triggers. The gun roars to life with such force that I’m nearly knocked off the back. I manage to cling to Marina so that she doesn’t turn visible. The closest group of Mogs don’t even have a chance to turn around as glowing columns of sizzling blaster fire pummel their backs, turning them immediately to ash.

  As soon as Marina opens fire, Dust comes screeching down from the sky. Now in the shape of a gray-winged falcon, the Chimæra rakes its talons across the face of one of the warriors holding Adam.

  The Mogs shout and scatter. They’re totally confused – it must look like their turret has been possessed by a ghost. Phiri Dun-Ra has the presence of mind to squeeze off some blaster fire that deflects off the turret’s windshield, but then she ducks for cover. Marina continues to strafe them, although she’s careful to avoid the area around Adam.

  With Dust taking down one of the warriors, Adam elbows his second captor in the stomach. When he doubles over, Adam shoves him backwards, right into the invisible border around the Sanctuary. With a flare of cold, blue energy, the shield surrounding the temple reveals itself – it’s like a giant electrical web stretched into the shape of a dome. The Mog flares up like the tip of a matchstick when he hits the force field. His body leaves a coating of ash that seems to float in the air once the shield disappears again, until a gentle gust of wind blows it away.

  Freed from his captors, Adam throws himself on to his stomach. Right away, Marina swings the turret around to take out the Mogs cluttered around him. A few of them, including Phiri Dun-Ra, have made it to the cover of one of the parked ships. Even though they can’t see us, they return fire on the turret. Our gun soon begins to belch smoke and rattle dangerously.

  ‘It’s overheating!’ I yell. ‘Jump!’

  Marina and I dive in opposite directions as the turret explodes in a cloud of acrid black smoke. We’re visible and without any cover to speak of.

  Before the surviving Mogs can take aim, Adam pounds his fist against the ground. A tremor ripples in their direction and knocks the Mogs off their feet. I use the distraction to roll beneath one of the other ships, already channeling my Legacy to call down a storm.

  The sky darkens and it begins to rain. Out here in the jungle, it’s a cinch to call up this kind of weather, but I’m still a few seconds away from channeling lightning and I’m not sure I’ll be quick enough. Phiri and her troops are already drawing a bead on me, their blaster fire scoring the wet dirt in front of my position.

  That’s when a fist-sized hailstone strikes Phiri right in her bald head. She falls back, shielding herself.

  I notice Marina hiding behind a stack of crates. She’s focusing intently on the raindrops, turning them to ice around the Mogs and knocking them senseless with hail. I feel the storm above reach a boiling point and let loose with a jagged stripe of lightning. Phiri manages to dive aside at the last second, but her last two warriors are electrocuted into dust.

  And then, to m
y surprise, Phiri Dun-Ra runs. Without even a look over her shoulder, the Mog trueborn bolts into the nearby jungle.

  Adam leaps to his feet. Both his lips are split open where Phiri clubbed him, blood trickling down his chin. Otherwise, he looks unharmed and alert. He starts to run after Phiri, his feet sliding through the reddish-brown mud my storm has created. Phiri is out of sight before Adam can get very far. He pulls up short a few yards away from me.

  ‘Let her go,’ I tell him, willing the storm I whipped up to taper off.

  ‘Shouldn’t we go after her?’ Adam asks, spitting blood into the dirt. His eyes scan the nearby ruins and tree line, and I can tell he’d like a fair fight against the other trueborn. Dust, back in wolf form, lopes over and sits down next to Adam, lapping gently at his hand. He glances back to me. ‘Thanks for the save, by the way.’

  ‘Yeah, I figured since the whole distraction thing was my call, I kinda owed it to you to not let you get slaughtered.’

  ‘Glad you saw it that way,’ Adam replies, then looks back towards the ruins around the Sanctuary. ‘We should catch her. She’s dangerous.’

  ‘Forget about Phiri what’s-her-face,’ I say, turning away from the jungle and gazing up at the waiting temple.

  ‘We’ve got more important things to do than chase down one Mog,’ Marina puts in as she walks over to join us. ‘No matter how nasty she might be.’

  I nod in agreement. ‘She’s alone out there. Maybe something will eat her. We’ll leave Dust back here to keep watch over the ships, in case she tries to double back.’

  Adam continues to stare into the jungle. After a moment, he finally nods his head. ‘Fine. I’ll keep an eye on things while you guys go inside.’

  I exchange an inquiring look with Marina to make sure she doesn’t have any misgivings with what I’m about to say. She shrugs her shoulders in response, then starts towards our ship to begin the unloading. I cock my head at Adam.

  ‘You don’t even want to try coming in with us?’ I ask.

  Adam stares at me. ‘Are you joking? Did you see what contact with that field did to Phiri Dun-Ra?’