The Psychic Legacy

Chapter 23: Lock

"We're going to do what?"

Tory was not impressed. He stared at us, mouth open, from his spot at the edge of the kitchen island. Ethan was at his side, looking just as shocked by our plan as his partner.

"What's not to get?" Polly said. She was leaning casually against the kitchen island, sipping at her coffee. After everything yesterday, she seemed to have made her peace in the night. Nothing shocked her anymore. "We're gonna bust Luc out of The Whatever's HQ."

"That's what I don't get!" Tory snapped back at her. "You think we can take on The Gathered? Are you nuts? They're the largest organized circle in the western world. It's like a minor religion."

"More like a cult," Lillian said, speaking through me again without waiting for permission. It bothered me a little. More than a little. It felt like she was getting too comfortable. "I'd know."

Tory turned his glare on her—me. "Then you would know that this is absolutely insane."

"How else do you propose we save Luc?" I asked, pushing Lillian aside for command. I crossed my arms. "Ask nicely? Or—"

Lillian's voice took over again, cutting me off. "They won't give him up without a fight."

Annoyance bubbled inside me. I made sure Lillian could feel it.

If she did, she ignored it. "If we don't go get Luc soon, he'll die. We have a little time, but I'm not entirely sure they won't be rushing, now."

Tory's entire face tensed—his jaw, lips, and brow pulled taut in deep agitation. He didn't have to say it; I saw it in his swallowed words and the wild panic in his eyes. He was loyal to Luc to the end. Letting him die was not an option.

"So say we get in," he said, dropping his argument. His voice shook. "Then what? Are we gonna duke it out with the whole order?"

"I'm not saying we go in, guns-blazing," Lillian snapped, rolling my eyes now. I instinctively clapped one of my hands to cover my eye to stop it. The others exchanged a strange look but didn't mention it.

"We go in quietly," she continued, ignoring my actions. "I used to live there, and when I did, I did my fair share of sneaking around. So, I know the place pretty well." She sounded almost proud.

Tory folded his arms and studied us with narrowed eyes, but he said nothing. I took that as some small measure of belief.

"So, we'll get in, we grab him and..." Polly said. "Then what?"

"What about the Malix?" Tory butted in. "You said it's there, with him—"

Polly's eyes darkened. "Yeah, and if you guys think The Whatevers are going to put up a fight... Then you have no idea about the damage the Bea—the Malix can do."

"Can't we just leave it with them?" Ethan asked, speaking up for the first time since we had settled down to talk about plans. "If they want to kill it so bad, let them do it."

"But they think the only way to do that is to kill Luc," I said. "So they won't let him go—they need them both. And from what I saw while I was there, I don't think it will tolerate being separated from him." I could still clearly picture the many-armed monster crouched over him, fending off the waves of blue cloaks. For some reason, its murderous intent had turned into protection.

For a moment, the situation's hopelessness seemed to descend on us like a thick fog, weighing us down with its inconvenient realities.

Tory dropped back down into his seat. "This... This is impossible..." he sputtered.