But then I’m out. I’m pulled into the same artificial slumber as Setrákus Ra and Marina.

What I see next, what we all see, is where it all started.

Chapter NINETEEN

SO THIS IS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE DEAD.

I float above my body and hardly recognize myself. My grandfather—he’d started to turn me into a monster like himself. The broken girl down there, all pale and washed out, I can hardly believe that’s me. Or was me. Marina puts her hands on my body, tries to bring me back even though her Legacies are turned off. It’s sad to see her distraught like this.

I don’t want to go back into that body. It’s a relief being out. There’s no more pain and for the first time in days I can actually think straight.

Actually, it’s kind of weird that I can think at all considering I’m, you know . . . dead. I guess this is just what the afterlife is like.

Below me, the others—Marina, Six, Setrákus Ra—they all move in super-slow motion. I can see so much. Every particle of smashed temple still floating in the air is visible to me. The beads of cold sweat on the back of my grandfather’s neck are visible to me. The pulsing glow of Loric energy inside all of them, even Setrákus Ra, that’s visible to me too.

How can I see all this?

I only wanted to break Setrákus Ra’s hold over me, to shatter his disgusting Mogadorian charm so that he couldn’t hold me hostage anymore. I wanted to help my friends. Something told me the best way to do that was to throw myself into that swirl of energy. I figured I would die and I was almost okay with that. I’m glad it isn’t just darkness and worms. Whatever this next stage is, though, I hope it isn’t all watching people I love fight to the death in slow motion.

Ella.

The voice comes from all around me. Not one voice, many voices. Thousands of voices. Yet somehow, from that chorus, I can pick out ones that I recognize. Crayton. Adelina. Eight. They’re calling to me.

You have work to do.

I fall towards the ground and my body. For a moment, I’m filled with panic. Am I going back inside my old skin to once again be puppeteered around by my grandfather? But then, suddenly, a feeling of calm washes over me, like I’ve been wrapped in a warm blanket. Nothing can hurt me, not now.

I should smack into the ground. Instead, I keep right on going. I pass through the dirt and rocks, and soon I’m submerged in total darkness. It doesn’t feel like I’m falling anymore. It feels like I’m floating through space—no gravity, no weight, just endless peaceful drifting. I lose track of which way is up, which way goes back to the world and my friends, my body. It doesn’t seem important right now. I should probably be freaking out. Somehow, though, I know that I’m safe.

Slowly, light begins to shine around me. Thousands of bright blue pinpricks float around me, like the way dust motes drift through a beam of sun. It’s just like the Loric energy I dove into. The particles expand and contract, reminding me of lungs. Sometimes they blend together into vague shapes, then quickly break apart.

Somehow, I get the feeling that I’m being watched.

There’s a net of the energy beneath me and I no longer feel like I’m floating or falling. It’s more like I’m being held, cupped in two giant hands. I feel relaxed and comfortable, like I could lounge here forever. It’s so much different from the hell the last few days have been, where exerting any bit of my own will caused shooting pains throughout my body. Part of me wants to turn off my mind and just let whatever’s happening to me stretch on forever. But another part of me knows my friends are still fighting back in the world of the living. I have to try to help.

“Hello?” I ask, testing if I can talk. I hear my voice, even though it doesn’t feel like I have a mouth, lungs or a body anymore. It feels like it does when I have a telepathic conversation, like how some of my thoughts are louder than others and those are the ones I project to the other people.

Hello, Ella, a voice answers. The blobs of energy floating in front of me pulse in sync with the voice. Weirdly, I feel completely comfortable having a conversation with a bunch of neon fireflies.

“Am I dead?” I ask. “Is this, like, heaven or something?”

I feel a not unpleasant tickle against where my skin should be. I guess that’s what it feels like when this thing laughs.

No, this is not heaven, child. And your death is only a temporary condition. When the time comes, I will restore you to your physical form. “Oh.” I pause. “What if I don’t want to go back?”

You will.

Don’t be so sure, buddy, I think, but don’t say.

“So . . . where’s here? What is this?”

You abandoned your body and used your telepathic gifts to retreat into my mind. You merged your consciousness with mine. Did you even know you were capable of that, child?

“Um, no.”

I did not think so. It was a dangerous thing to do, young Ella. My mind is vast and stretches across every where and every when that I have existed. I am shielding you from this knowledge, so as not to overwhelm you.

I guess that’s why I feel so cozy in this total darkness, bodiless and cradled by pure Loric energy. Because the Loric Entity thingy is taking care of me.

“Thanks for that,” I reply.

You are welcome.

It occurs to me that I should probably ask some important questions. It’s not every day that you end up sharing a mind with a godly energy.

“What exactly are you, though?”