The Girl Who Would Be King(132)

“But, your mother died…and her mother before her…if you’re not killable, then how?”

“It seems that once we have a daughter we lose most of the power. So when my mom had me, it made her vulnerable to being killed.”

“So does that mean that the…the Others, are born at the same time as you?”

“It’s not exact, but close. All of the dates here list the births within about a year of each other.”

“How old did Lola look? Was she your age?”

“Well, I wasn’t really paying much attention as she kicked my ass across New York, but yeah, she seemed close to my age.”

“So wait, if your mother died when you were six and she didn’t have her powers since you were born, and you were too young for a long time to really use your powers, then there are these long periods of time where a Braverman and a LeFever have power, and then long periods of nothing…why would it be like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s like in agriculture.”

Liesel cocks her head at me.

“You know, like fields that lie fallow for seasons to rejuvenate, maybe the power has to rest or something. Recharge,” I shrug. Liesel laughs, her eyebrow raised at me.

“Okay, farmer Ted, whatever you say.”

“Shut up,” I say tossing a pillow in her direction, smiling.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I say, massaging the bridge of my nose again. “I thought about going to the library or trying to find a historian or something, but I don’t know, I don’t think I’m cut out for all this detective stuff.”

“Maybe you should try thinking more outside the box,” Liesel suggests.

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” she starts, pausing and touching pages of the book. “You’ve got these artifacts that you know are tied to whatever you are – and especially the stone, which you’ve said feels powerful to you – I don’t know, it seems like maybe all the answers are already inside you, and you just need to figure out how to unlock them, y’know?”

I look at Liesel, stunned. She’d make a way better Batman than me.

“What?” she asks.

“You’re just brilliant,” I say. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I hug her suddenly – spilling both of our teas in the process – and dive off of the bed in a jumble.

“Watch the glass!” she calls out.

“Too late!” I say, already in the hallway, two pieces jammed in my bare foot, little drops of blood dripping onto the hardwood as I hurry down the hall to the kitchen where I’d left the duffel bag. As I dig through the bag I hear Liesel calling Ben to bring her a broom, and Ben gently cursing as he stumbles upon my blood trail. In a minute I have it in my hands. The stone.

Maybe it’s the key I needed on the island.

Only one way to find out.



•

You’d think from all the screaming that it isn’t going well, but actually I couldn’t be more pleased. I’m surveying everything from an awesome penthouse suite we took over early on in the center of downtown L.A. It gives me a massive, sweeping view of everything and in tonight’s case that includes about twelve square blocks of my own territory. For a bunch of glorified morons, my boys are doing pretty well. We hit in the early morning hours so there would be fewer people in what is more of a commercial district. My boys did a great job recruiting from the downtown area, so we already had a lot of people on the inside, which helped immensely. And I’ve got a whole parking garage full of hostages to use as bargaining chips. As long as Bruce Willis isn’t hiding out in my city, I think we’re good.

We set fire to everything a block out from the edges of my territory, and L.A.’s finest are so far mostly busy doing damage control. They haven’t even bothered much with us yet, which has given my boys plenty of time to set up. Moe shows up in the room panting, ruining the peaceful survey of my lands. “What?” I ask, not looking up. He tries to speak but has no breath. “Moe, you’ve got twelve seconds to come up with a sentence and it better not start with ‘um’,” I say.

“Yes, sir, boss. The boys are asking what we do when the city cuts the power?” he breathes.

“Why do you think I kept hostages?” I ask.

“Oh,” he says, almost deflated.

“You can go now,” I say, waving my hand at him. “Send in Jeeves.”

“Yes, boss,” he says, shuffling out. Jeeves shows up moments later.

“You wanted to see me, boss?”

“Tell me when the news helicopters arrive,” I say.