Ella’s eyes are empty and her head hangs so that her chin is pressed against her chest. She doesn’t look even remotely aware of her surroundings. Her movements are robotic and dazed. She follows Setrákus Ra onto the ramp with total compliance. The Mogs sweeping the area stop what they’re doing to watch their ruler and his heir descend from the Anubis, all of them doing this lame fist-on-chest salute.

Setrákus Ra stops about halfway down the ramp. His eyes sweep across the jungle, searching for us.

“I know you’re out there!” Setrákus Ra bellows, his voice carrying through the hushed jungled. “I’m glad! I want you to see what happens next!” Setrákus Ra shouts over his shoulder, into the Anubis. “Lower it!”

In response to his command, a trapdoor opens on the warship’s underbelly. Slowly, a large piece of machinery telescopes out from the Anubis. It’s like a length of pipe with support struts and scaffolding built around it. The pipe’s sides are covered with complicated circuits and gauges. There’s more than just Mogadorian tech to Setrákus Ra’s steadily lowering device, though. Engraved into the metal sides between all the electronics are strange glyphs that remind me of the symbols scarred into our ankles. Also, and I can’t be one hundred percent sure about this, but it looks like those engravings are done in Loralite. Whatever this device is, it looks to be as much a Loric-Mogadorian hybrid as Setrákus Ra.

“I don’t like the look of that,” I say quietly.

“Nope,” Sarah replies.

“We should blow it up,” Mark suggests.

“Whatever he intends to use that for, we can’t let it happen,” Marina agrees.

“All right. So we destroy his toy, rescue Ella and then either take the Anubis or hightail it back to Lexa,” I say.

“You make it sound so easy,” Adam replies.

Even though he can’t see us, Setrákus Ra is still on his rant. “For centuries I’ve worked to harness the power of Lorien, to utilize it in ways more efficient than nature intended. Now, finally . . .”

Blah, blah, blah. Quickly, I gauge the distance between Ella and the nearest wired-to-explode Skimmer. Pretty far. I don’t think she’ll be in the blast radius. As Setrákus Ra drones on, I glance at the others.

“I’ve heard enough. What about the rest of you?”

Everyone nods. They’re ready.

“Get low,” I say, remembering how Mark got struck by shrapnel just a few minutes ago.

Everyone takes cover. This is it.

“Hit it,” I say to Mark.

Fingers flying across the controller, Mark flips the detonation switches.