“I didn’t think it was smart for me to keep carrying it around. I found a secluded spot in the Everglades and I buried it there.” Five looks around at the group. “Was that a bad idea?”

“I buried mine for pretty much the same reason,” Six answers. “When I went back for it, someone had taken it.”

“Oh,” Five sputters. “Oh, crap.”

“If your Chest-hiding skills are as good as your regular hiding skills, I’m sure it’s still there,” Eight says optimistically.

“We’ll want to get that as soon as possible,” John says.

Five nods eagerly. “Yeah, of course. I remember exactly where I put it.”

“The Chests are imperative,” my dad blurts out. He pinches the bridge of his nose, which I’ve noticed he’s started doing whenever he’s struggling to remember something. “Each of the Chests contains something—I’m not sure exactly what, or how it works—but there are items in those Chests that will help you reconnect with Lorien when the time comes.”

Everyone’s staring raptly at him now.

“How do you know that?” John asks.

“I—I just remembered,” my dad replies.

Nine looks over at me, then back to my dad. “Uh, what?”

“I suppose it’s time for my story now,” he says, staring at all the expectant faces. “I should warn you that there are gaps in my memories. The Mogadorians did something to me. They tried to tear what I knew out of my brain. Things are coming back to me now, in pieces. I’ll tell you what I can.”

“But how did you find that out in the first place?” Eight asks. “We don’t even really understand what’s in our Chests.”

My dad pauses, looking around at the group.

“I know because Pittacus Lore told me.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

YOU COULD HEAR A PIN DROP.

John is the first to speak. “How did he tell you? What do you mean?”

“He told me in person,” my dad replies.

“You’re telling us you met Pittacus Lore?” exclaims a skeptical Nine.

“How is that possible?” Marina asks.

“We found a skeleton in your workshop wearing a Loric pendant . . .” John swallows hard before continuing. “Was that him?”

My dad lowers his gaze. “I’m afraid so. When he arrived, his wounds were so grievous that there was nothing I could do for him.”

Now the questions come on in a rush.

“What did he tell you?”

“How did he get to Earth?”

“Why did he pick you?”

“Did you know Johnny thinks he’s Pittacus resurrected?”

My dad motions downward with his hands, like a conductor would when he’s trying to quiet a noisy orchestra. He looks exhilarated by all the questions, and simultaneously like he’s struggling to remember the answers.