The Fallen Legacies (Lorien Legacies: The Lost Files #3)(8)

I wonder what that’s like. I wonder what my life would be like without the need to serve Mogadorian expansion, without the drills and training, the supervised readings from Ra’s Great Book.


“This is, like, one of my all-time favorites,” says ghost-One, introducing the memory of her punching a cheerleader in the face. The cheerleader started it; she’d been picking on One since she started school in Austin. It’s weird, but I feel some of One’s sense of satisfaction.

Of course, the punch gets her kicked out of school, which is all the reason Hilde needs to relocate them again. They leave Austin in a beat-up station wagon, heading for California. One sulks in the passenger seat the whole ride, reclined all the way back, ignoring Hilde in favor of the three seashells she keeps levitated above her with her telekinesis.

We Mogadorians have been warned of the Garde’s deadly telekinesis. Watching One juggle the seashells, scrunching up her nose in concentration, it doesn’t seem all that deadly. More like mesmerizing. And it’s not just the telekinesis either. The way her blond hair is fanned beneath her …

I turn away. Was I just checking out the dead Garde whose memories I’ve stolen? I tell myself it was for research purposes, although a description of how the sun brings out the blonder streaks in One’s nice hair is likely not the intel my father expects of me.


When they arrive in California, Hilde tries to inspire One with some kind of Loric magic so that she’ll start taking her training more seriously.

“You’ll want to see this,” ghost-One tells me, appearing at my side to watch.

Using what appear at first to be plain glass orbs, Hilde creates a floating map of the Loric galaxy. The swirling cosmos, the bright orange sun, and the dead, gray planet Lorien.

“Do you see what the Mogadorians have done?” Hilde asks young Number One.

One nods, staring at the ruined planet. Hilde steps close to the floating Lorien orb and gently blows across its surface. When she does, the smog and fire clear from the planet’s surface. Lorien looks like it must have before the First Great Expansion: rich and lush, thriving. The change fades quickly, the planet going gray again.

“This is why we fight,” says Hilde quietly, her eyes watery. “Not just to avenge our planet and our people and to one day bring life back to Lorien, but to prevent this fate from befalling Earth. Do you understand why you are so important?”

I don’t pay attention to One’s muted reply. I’m too distracted by the vision of Lorien. Its surface is a hideously charred black, the planet’s ruined atmosphere leaking into the space around it. Seeing the planet like this, my people’s greatest victory, it doesn’t look like anything to be proud of.

“Is that what you want for the entire universe?” ghost-One asks me, gesturing to her destroyed home.

“I’ve never seen this before,” I reply, trying to keep my voice neutral. The sight of Lorien disturbs me. To think such thoughts is treason, but if our coming to Earth means even half the destruction brought down on Lorien, would it still be a place worth living in?

“Is that what Mogadorian progress looks like?” ghost-One presses.

“Please,” I say, shaking my head. “Stop talking to me.”

I just want her to go away. I don’t want her to see my doubt.





CHAPTER 7


I’m standing on the beach. I can’t feel anything here in One’s memories, but if I concentrate hard, I can almost imagine what it must be like to have the Pacific Ocean lapping at my ankles and the wet sand squishing between my toes. I’ve never been in the ocean before. When I’m finally awake again, I’d like to try the real thing.

I take a second to imagine a trip to the ocean with the General. My father out of uniform, in a pair of flower-print swim trunks, pulling a cooler filled with cookout supplies out of the trunk of our family’s convertible. My mom and Kelly build a sand castle while Ivan and I see which one of us can swim out the farthest. He wins because even in my fantasy I’m a realist. I swim back to shore, and the General is waiting with a hamburger.

“Seriously?” asks ghost-One, standing on the beach beside me, and I realize I have a ridiculous, goofy grin on my face. I quickly let it fade. “You killed my entire race so you could enjoy a beach barbecue?”

“Stay out of my thoughts,” I say weakly, aware of the hypocrisy.

“Psh,” snorts One, rolling her eyes at me. “I wish that I could, dude.”

Arguing with One’s ghost certainly isn’t what my father would describe as productive reconnaissance, so I turn away, trying to ignore her.

In this memory, the real Number One has just finished up a day of surfing. Turns out she’s a natural, the only one of her crew of surfer buddies not to wipe out today. Between this and the skateboarding, she’s started to wonder if maybe enhanced balance isn’t going to be one of her Legacies. I’d never tell One this, but I’ve enjoyed the surfer memory. In fact, I’d never tell anyone that.

“Please stop checking out my past self,” ghost-One says at my side.

“I’m not,” I protest.

The memory keeps moving. One bounds out of the water, her surfboard passing right through me as she leaps into the waiting arms of a tanned and muscular young human.

Wade.

One had rededicated herself to training after Hilde’s display of the solar system. At least, until she met Wade.