“I’ll try,” she says, her voice hard to hear above the wind. “Marina said you might be able to help.”
Thanks, Marina, I think. I’ve barely spoken to Ella one-on-one since we first met in New Mexico. I guess this is a good opportunity to get to know her better, although I wish it was under better circumstances. I badly want to help her; I’m just not sure I know how—I’m hardly an expert on these visions, or a psychiatrist, if that’s what she needs. This is the kind of talk that would normally be left to a Cêpan, but like Nine reminded me earlier, we’re all out of those.
I try to sound confident. “Marina’s right. I’ve had dreams before.”
“Dreams about him?” Ella asks, and by the way her voice drops there can be no doubt who she’s talking about.
“Yeah,” I reply. “That ugly freak has spent so much time in my head, I should be charging him rent.”
Ella smiles a little. She stands up, kicking some loose gravel across the roof. Tentatively, I put my hand on her shoulder. She sighs, almost like it’s a relief.
“It always starts the same way,” Ella begins. “We’re back at that base, fighting Setrákus and his minions. We’re, you know, losing.”
I nod. “Yeah, I remember that part.”
“I pick up a piece of metal from the floor. I dunno what it is exactly, a broken piece of a sword maybe. When I touch it, it starts glowing in my hand.”
“Wait,” I say, trying to piece this part together. “Is that what happened or is this just in the dream?”
“That’s what happened,” she says. “I was scared and just grabbed the first thing I could. My big plan was to just chuck stuff at him until he stopped hitting Nine.”
“From where I was standing, it looked like some kind of dart,” I say, remembering the fight, all the smoke and chaos. “A glowing dart. I thought it was something you got from your Chest.”
“I never had a Chest,” Ella replies sullenly. “I guess they forgot to pack me one.”
“Ella, do you know what I think?” I’m trying to be comforting, but the excitement is hard to keep out of my voice. “I think you developed a new Legacy back there and we were all too panicked to realize it.”
Ella looks down at her hands. “I don’t get it.”
I pick up a handful of the loose stones from the roof and hold them out to her. “I think you did something to that broken piece of sword. And when you hit Setrákus Ra with it, you hurt him.”
“Oh,” she replies, not sounding at all thrilled.
“Do you think you could do it again?” I hold the stones out towards her.
“I don’t want to,” she answers sharply. “It felt . . . wrong, somehow.”
“You were just scared . . . ,” I start, trying to encourage her, but when she takes a step away from me, I realize I’ve made a mistake. She’s still shaken up by the fight, these dreams, her Legacies. I let the stones drop back to the roof. “We all were. It’s okay. We can worry about that later. Finish telling me about the dreams.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I think maybe she’s withdrawing completely. But, after a moment, she starts again.
“I throw the piece of metal at him,” she says, “and it sticks inside him. Just like at the base. Except, in my dream, instead of retreating, Setrákus turns to face me. Everyone else—all of you guys—disappear, and it’s just me and him alone in that smoky room.”
Ella wraps her arms around herself, shivering. “He pulls the dart out and he smiles at me. Smiles at me with those horrible teeth. I’m stuck standing there like an idiot while he walks over and touches my face. Like, caresses it with the back of his hand. His touch is ice cold. And then he talks to me.”
I feel like shivering too, actually. The thought of Setrákus Ra strolling up to Ella and putting his disgusting hand on her, it turns my stomach.
“What does he say?” I ask.
“Um,” she pauses, lowering her voice. “He says, ‘there you are’ and then, ‘I’ve been looking for you.’”
“And then what happens?”
“He—he gets down on his knees.” Her voice drops to a chilled whisper. “He holds one of my hands in both of his, and he asks me if I’ve read the letter.”
“What letter? Do you know what he’s talking about?”
Ella hunches the blanket tighter around her shoulders, not looking at me. “No.”
I can tell by the way she answers that Ella isn’t being totally honest. There’s something about this letter—whatever it might be—that’s shaken her up almost as much as these visions of Setrákus Ra. From her description, I don’t know if these dreams are like the ones I’ve had, like the one where Setrákus showed me Sam being tortured to try baiting me into fighting him, or if it’s like Six suggested and these nightmares are simply a result of all the really awful things Ella’s been through lately. I don’t want to press her any further; she already seems close to tears.
“I wish I could tell you I could make the dreams go away,” I begin, finding myself doing my best Henri impression, “but I can’t. I don’t know what causes them. I only know how painful they can be.”
Ella nods, looking disappointed. “Okay.”
“If you see him in a dream again, just remember he can’t hurt you. And when he tries to hold your hand, you punch him right in his ugly face.”
Ella cracks a smile. “I’ll try.”
I’m not sure if anything I said really helped Ella, but one detail from our conversation sticks with me. Whatever she hit Setrákus Ra with, I’m sure that it was the result of her developing a new Legacy. She charged up that projectile and, somehow, it hurt him, or at least distracted him enough that we were able to get our Legacies back. Now I just need to convince her to try doing it again, and hopefully figure out exactly what this new Legacy can do. If it worked once, maybe it will work again. If I’m going to put together a plan to finally kill Setrákus Ra, I’m going to need every weapon we have at my disposal.
I head down to the Lecture Hall, hoping to find something in my Chest or in Nine’s arsenal that might help draw out Ella’s Legacy. I remember when Henri used the warming stone on me to help me first gain control of my Lumen. I wonder if something like that would help Ella.
I’m deep in thought when I hear the muffled sound of gunshots.
I flinch automatically, hunching down, my hands growing hot as my Lumen switches on. It’s instinct. I know the difference between Mog blasters and Nine’s gun collection, which some of the others have taken to practicing with. I also know we’re safe here, at least for now; if the Mogs knew where we were, all of us together, their assault would be a hell of a lot noisier than one gun going off. Even considering all that, my heart is still pounding and I feel ready for a fight. I guess Ella isn’t the only one jumpy from the battle in New Mexico.
I push my way through the heavy double doors of the Lecture Hall, my hands glowing dimly because I’m still a little on edge. I’m expecting to find Nine twirling a gun outlaw style into its holster, killing time by shooting up paper targets.