“Last I saw her, she was dragging Setrákus Ra onto the Anubis,” I say.

General Lawson clears his throat. “Son, what’s she saying?”

Adam takes a deep breath and lets it hiss through his teeth. “She’s putting the fear into the trueborn captains, taking them to task for doubting their Leader. She says the delay in the attack is inconsequential, as humanity is weak and a Mogadorian victory is all but assured.”

Lawson stiffens at that.

“Did she mention that I impaled their Beloved Leader?” I ask.

“Of course not,” Adam grumbles. “She claims Setrákus Ra has been busy finishing his life’s work of elevating the Mogadorian race. She says that what he’s accomplished is nothing short of a miracle and that the faithful will be rewarded. The doubters? She says there’s nothing in store for them but pain beyond belief.”

“Lead with the carrot or the stick,” Lawson mutters.

“What kind of miracle could that monster work?” Marina asks.

“We know what his life’s work is,” I say. “We saw it in that vision.”

“The energy he stole from the Sanctuary,” John says quietly. “The process we saw in Ella’s vision, turning it into that black ooze of his. He must be back to that.”

“I don’t know what the hell all that means,” Lawson interrupts. “But it sounds like our time is running out.”

Adam holds up a hand as Phiri Dun-Ra’s speech reaches a crescendo. His mouth hangs open, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“She claims . . . she claims that, thanks to the wisdom of Beloved Leader, she’s been granted Legacies,” Adam says, the sound of Phiri Dun-Ra’s happy laughter almost drowning him out.

“Bullshit,” I say. “Even assuming that’s true, whatever they’ve got are not Legacies.”

“We saw him do it,” Marina says, a low note of dread in her voice. “The people working with him on that machine, he’d given them telekinesis.”

“Those people looked sick. Monstrous.” That observation comes from Caleb, the first words he’s said since we came down here. I look over at him, and he’s staring down at the backs of his hands as if looking to see if there’s anything running through the veins there. His brother, Christian, meanwhile, remains completely still and silent.

“He’s had hundreds of years to perfect his experiment,” John says. “He only needed access to more of the raw materials.”

“And we unlocked it for him,” I say, shaking my head.

A new voice comes over the broadcast. Not a voice at all, actually—a scream. An anguished cry from what sounds like a boy being tortured. Everyone in the room falls silent as Phiri Dun-Ra resumes speaking over the screaming, her tone upbeat and chipper.

“What in the hell is that?” Lawson asks.

Adam swallows hard. “She says it’s a Garde they captured in Mexico City. A human. They’re extracting his Legacies. Killing him.”

“Turn it off,” Marina says, looking like she’s going to be sick.

Adam turns first to me, then at John. Both of us nod. This kind of thing can’t go unanswered.

“Do it,” John says.

Adam reaches forward but doesn’t turn off the broadcast. Instead, he picks up a microphone and opens up a channel.

Lawson starts forward to stop Adam, and the twins follow suit; but John puts a hand on the older man’s chest, stopping him.

“Can they track our signal?” Lawson whispers with wide eyes.

“No,” John whispers back. “He already took care of that. We’re a ghost.”

Lawson doesn’t seem entirely convinced. He shoots a look in Noto’s direction. The agent nods curtly, affirming what John said.

Anyway, it’s too late. Adam’s already started talking.

“Phiri Dun-Ra is a liar,” Adam announces in English, though he amps up the harshness in his voice, utilizing that guttural Mogadorian accent. He must be using English for our benefit—so that Lawson knows he’s not giving away any secrets. “What she’s telling you is only meant to advance her own power.”

The screaming cuts off. A few confused voices answer in Mogadorian. Phiri Dun-Ra’s voice carries over them all.

“Is that you, Adamus?” she asks, laughing. “How did you get on this channel, little boy?”

Adam ignores her, presses on. “My name is Adamus Sutekh, son of General Andrakkus Sutekh. I faced my father in single combat and defeated him. I pried his blade out of his dead hand, and I put it to its intended use. I used it to kill a Loric. A Loric who called himself Setrákus Ra.”