“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?”