‘True,’ Bastille said. ‘Maybe we could do something about the fallen troops, the ones in comas. If we could get them to wake up somehow . . .’
‘Wait!’ I said, looking back and forth between the two. ‘Aren’t you going to state the obvious?’
‘What?’ Bastille said. ‘That the Shattered Lens has far better technology than we thought?’ She narrowed her eyes in a very Bastille-like way, glancing at the enormous machines that were tossing rocks toward the city. She seemed to have a particular dislike for them, along the lines of her hatred of walls. (Read book one.)
‘No,’ I said, exasperated. ‘That I have no business being king! I can barely lead myself to the bathroom in the morning, let alone command an entire army.’
‘Too late to change that now, Al,’ Kaz said with a shrug.
‘I think you’ll do a great job,’ Aydee added. ‘Being king isn’t that tough, from what I hear. Use a lot of phrases like “you please the crown” or “we are not amused” and occasionally make up a holiday.’
‘Yeah,’ I said flatly. ‘Sounds as easy as one plus one.’
‘Seven?’ Aydee asked, cocking her head.
I looked at Bastille. She still had her arms folded. ‘Kaz, Aydee,’ she said, ‘why don’t you go get a count and see how many troops we have? Also, Alcatraz will need to know what kind of shape the command structure is in.’
The two Smedrys nodded, hurrying off to do as requested.
‘Wait!’ Bastille said, turning with a sudden shock. ‘Kaz, you do the counting, Aydee, you stay away from anything of the sort.’
‘Good call,’ Kaz said.
‘Right!’ Aydee called. ‘I’ll give moral support.’
And they left. That, unfortunately, left me alone on the wall with Bastille. I gulped, backing away as she walked toward me. My back eventually hit the wall behind; if I backed up any farther, I’d topple over and fall to my death on the ground outside the city.
I considered it anyway.
Bastille reached me, placing a finger against my chest. ‘You,’ she said, ‘are not going to fail these people.’
‘But—’
‘I’m tired of you wavering back and forth Alcatraz,’ she said. ‘Shattering Glass! Half the time, you act like you’re panicked by the idea of being in charge, then the other half the time you just take control!’
‘I . . . er . . . . well . . .’
‘And the other half the time you babble incoherently!’
‘I like babbling!’ I exclaimed. (I’m not sure why.) ‘Besides, that sounds like some Aydee math. Three halves?’
She eyed me.
‘Yes, you’re right about me,’ I said. ‘Sometimes, this all feels like a game. It twists my head in knots to think of the things I’ve been through, the things that have become part of my life. I get carried away with it all, with what everyone expects of me just because of my name.
‘But I’ve already decided I want to lead. I decided it months ago. I want to be a hero; I want to be a leader. But that doesn’t mean I want to be a king! When I actually stop to think about it, I realize how insane it is.’
‘Then don’t stop to think,’ Bastille said. ‘I don’t see why it should be so hard. Not thinking seems to be one of your specialties.’
I grimaced. ‘The things you say to me don’t help either, Bastille. Every time I think that I’m starting to do well, I get a faceful of insults from you. And I can never tell if I deserve them or not!’
She narrowed her eyes further, finger pressed against my sternum. I cringed, preparing for the storm.
‘I like you,’ she said.
I blinked, righting myself. ‘What?’
‘I. Like. You. So I insult you.’