A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 13: Enter Marina and Ella

By the time we reach the orphanage—a giant grey structure made of old stone—Henri pulls the car over to the side of the road by the access door.

So far none of us have seen any wandering Mogadorians; it's hard to see anything when it's this close to midnight, really. It's eerily silent, but perhaps it's just a matter of everyone being asleep. I don't know; I have the sense that we're being watched though.

Henri knocks on the door, and it's a while until one of the nuns dressed in their formal black robes answer. "Hi. Is Adelina and Marina there?"

"You'll have to come back during visiting hours," the sister answers, giving each of us a note of dirty suspicion. "Showing up unannounced this late is not permitted." Well, that sure was fast.

"Yes, well, we really need to speak to them. I apologize, but our plane was delayed."

"Not my problem. No visitors until visitation time. Come back next month." She shuts the door.

"Wait," Henri cries, stepping into the doorway. "It's urgent. More than urgent. I'm afraid—well, it's a matter of life or death." Clearly, the nun looks upset. "All we need is one minute."

"Fine. One minute. But then you need to leave," she says eventually. "Wait here."

"A matter of life or death?" John whispers half-jokingly. "Really Henri?"

"Was that too much?

"Just a bit," I agree.

"I'm sure there's no harm. If anyone suspects anything, they would've—"

"Hello there! Hola!" shouts a man at us from afar, startling us all. He's dressed in a long dark cloak with a thick black mustache, waving a book in the air. I can't quite read what the cover says. "I'm so glad you're here!" John turns to me expectantly, but I just shrug. "Perhaps you can help me," he resumes as Henri steps forward. He's the first to greet him, and suddenly, I worry that I just kicked his death later down the line. "I've been reading this book—it's in English—and there's this word I'm not familiar with. Do you know what it means?"

"Henri..." I don't know what to say. I want to tell him to be careful, but when the cloaked man meets my gaze, my thoughts run cold; frozen.

"Yes?"

I gulp, staring at the man. "Um, can I see it? The book?"

"Of course!" he says, handing it over. "The more wisdom, the merrier, right?"

I take the book gratefully, and while keeping one eye on him and the other on the pages, I check the cover. I Am Number Four. What the heck?! It's hardcover. Mine was different. I turn to the first page, the page that's unlabelled of any chapter number and see the very same words: "The door starts shaking. It's a flimsy thing made of bamboo shoots held together with tattered lengths of twine..." (Lore 1). I know those words; I know them like the back of my hand.

I look up at the man, study him: His mustache is perfect. I don't divert his eyes, even when his name comes to mind. "Crayton?"

He smiles, a glimmer in his teeth. He reaches up to peel the mustache back a little. "I had a hunch I knew who you were. The book gave it away, si?"

I breathe a sigh of relief and let the tension dissipate. "No. I, um, I figured it out by my own means."

"Well, thank Lore for that," Crayton says. "Marina didn't."

"Wait, you know who he is, Emily?" John asks. "You said you didn't."

"Not at first," I say. "He is disguised after all. But seeing him carry Pittacus Lore's first novel? It connected the dots. He's Ella's Cêpan."