The Last Days of Lorien by Pittacus Lore

rest of the distance on foot.”
    I spoke our coordinates into the receiver and the Egg took off, out of the city. It picked up speed once it breeched the city limits.
    Unnerved by the way Daxin was drumming his leg and glancing around nervously, I stared straight ahead at the scenery whizzing by without speaking. The dusty plains ringing the city gave way to the increasingly lush vegetation of the rest of Lorien. I’d spent so little time outside the city it was a shock to be reminded how green the vast majority of our planet was.
    The slab of violet light kept coming into view over the tops of the trees. “Elders went all out this year,” I said, idly trying to make conversation with Daxin.
    He didn’t respond.
    “The Herald?” I said, pointing out the window. “Must have taken them at least a month to cook that one up.”
    Daxin shifted uneasily in his seat, avoiding my gaze.
    “Yeah,” he said.
    “What?” I asked. I didn’t like the vibe I was picking up from him. And I’d never even seen him before. But Rapp knew who he was, so I had no reason not to trust the guy.
    “Nothing,” he said. “We just don’t know that it is a Herald.”
    Mysteriousness and ominousness. Great.
    “What are you saying?” I pressed.
    “The Elders have been off-planet for a while, and they’ve been out of communication the past few days.”
    I couldn’t figure out what he was getting at. “Yeah, but that’s nothing, right? I thought they were off-planet a lot. Don’t they spend a lot of time doing all kinds of Elder stuff that we could never understand?”
    “Sure,” he said. But he sounded skeptical. Then something occurred to me.
    “Does this have anything to do with why my engineering class was cancelled today?”
    Daxin did a double take. I had clearly guessed right.
    “Orkun and a few councilmembers made a trip to the column,” he admitted. “To scope it out, investigate. It’s probably nothing.”
    “Why are you so concerned? If the light isn’t a Herald, what do you think it is?”
    “Look, don’t worry about it, all right? I’ve just had a long day.”
    I sunk back into my seat, slightly annoyed. Just days ago I hadn’t cared one way or another about the backstage goings-on among the council, the Mentor Cêpans and the other figures of the LDA, but now that I was actually showing some curiosity I was being told to mind my own business. It was frustrating.
    The Egg cleared a few particularly dense acres of forest and came to a stop at the edge of the Malkan Kabarak. Daxin jumped out and immediately turned away from the perimeter fence, heading away from the settlement.
    I jogged to keep up.
    “Why are we walking? Why didn’t we just enter the coordinates in the first place, if you knew where we were going?”
    Daxin answered without slowing down. “I’m here to meet a Garde. My Garde.”
    Ah. If Daxin had only recently been promoted to a Mentor Cêpan, then maybe his testiness could be written off as mere nerves. A Mentor Cêpan’s first meeting with his Garde is a pretty big deal. The bond between a Mentor Cêpan and his Garde mentee is considered almost sacred—almost as strong as the bond between a parent and child. And it lasted for life, even after the Garde was grown up and no longer under the Cêpan’s direct tutelage. I could see how meeting someone you’re going to have that kind of relationship with could freak a person out.
    Daxin kept talking as we made our way up the path. “Garde’s raised by his grandfather, and the grandfather lives this far out of the city for a reason. Hates technology, speedcraft. You know, still likes to do things the old way. I didn’t want to surprise him with the sound of the engine.”
    Gradually, a small hut came into view up ahead, followed by a quickly approaching shape. It was racing right at us.
    A Chimæra.
    Before I knew what was happening, the Chimæra leapt off the ground and right into me, knocking me off my feet and onto my back.
    The