“A lesson in what?” I spit, glaring at Five.

Five looks almost relieved that Setrákus Ra’s attention now seems focused on me. “May I be excused?” he asks.

“You may not,” Setrákus Ra replies.

From next to one of the ships, Setrákus Ra grabs a cart covered in tools—wrenches, pliers, screwdrivers all made for servicing the Mogadorian ships, but not so different from the ones on Earth—and wheels it over next to us. He looks down at me and smiles.

“Your Legacy, Ella, is called Dreynen. It gives you the ability to temporarily cancel the Legacy of another Garde,” Setrákus Ra lectures, his hands clasped behind his back. “It was one of the rarest on Lorien.”

I wipe my forearm across my eyes and try to stand up a little straighter. I’m still glaring at Five, but my words are for Setrákus Ra. “Why are you telling me this now? I don’t care.”

“It’s important to know one’s history,” he replies, undeterred. “If you believe the Elders, Legacies arose from Lorien to suit the needs of Loric society. I wonder, then, what benefit is derived from a power only useful against other Garde?”

Five remains perfectly still, refusing to meet my eyes. Distracted by my anger, I forget to moderate my words, to keep it cool.

“I don’t know,” I snap sarcastically. “Maybe Lorien saw freaks like you two coming and knew someone would have to stop you.”

“Ah,” Setrákus Ra replies, his voice overloaded with professorial smugness, like I’ve stepped right into his trap. “But if that is the case, why did the Elders not select you to be among the young Garde saved? And, if Lorien does somehow shape Legacies to suit the needs of the Loric, why would it bestow Legacies to those ill suited to use them? The mere existence of Dreynen suggests a fallibility in Lorien that the Elders would seek to deny. It is chaos that needs to be tamed, not worshipped.”

I try to take a step towards Five, but Setrákus Ra uses his telekinesis to keep me in place. I choke back my anger and remind myself I’m a prisoner here. I have to play along with Setrákus Ra’s stupid game until the time is right. Revenge will have to wait.

“Ella,” Setrákus Ra says. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I sigh and turn away from Five to stare dully at Setrákus Ra. Obviously, he already has this whole philosophical lecture mapped out. It’s probably one of the longer sections in his book. There’s no point in trying to argue with him.

“So everything’s random and we should exploit it and blah blah blah,” I say. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong. We’ll never know since you went and destroyed the planet.”

“What did I destroy, exactly? A planet, perhaps. But not Lorien itself.” Setrákus Ra toys with one of the pendants dangling from his neck. “It is more complicated than you know, my dear. Soon, your mind will open and you will understand. Until then—” He reaches over to the cart, plucks up a Mogadorian wrench and tosses it to me. “We practice.”