White Night (The Dresden Files #9) - Jim Butcher Page 0,116

second. "I think… I think it doesn't matter how strong my magic is. I know I don't… I don't know how to do these things like you do. The guns and the battles and…" She lifted her chin and seemed to gather herself a little. "But I know more than most."

"You know some," I admitted. "But you got to understand, kid. That won't mean much once things get nasty. There's no time for thinking or second chances."

She nodded. "All I can promise you is that I won't leave you when you need me. I'll do whatever you think I can. I'll stay here and man the phone. I'll drive the car. I'll walk at the back and hold the flashlight. Whatever you want." She met my eyes and her own hardened. "But I can't sit at home being safe. I need to be a part of this. I need to help."

There was a sudden, sharp sound as the leather strand of her bracelet snapped of its own volition. Black beads flew upward with so much force that they rattled off the ceiling and went bouncing around the apartment for a good ten seconds. Mister, still batting playfully at his gift sack of catnip, paused to watch them, ears flicking, eyes alertly tracking their movement.

I went up to the girl, who was staring at them, mystified.

"It was the vampire, wasn't it," I said. "Seeing him die."

She blinked at me. Then at the scattered beads. "I… I didn't just see it, Harry. I felt it. I can't explain it any better than that. Inside my head. I felt it, the same way I felt that poor girl. But this was horrible."

"Yeah," I said. "You're a sensitive. It's a tremendous talent, but it has some drawbacks to it. In this case, though, I'm glad you have it."

"Why?" she whispered.

I gestured at the scattered beads. "Congratulations, kid," I told her quietly. "You're ready."

She blinked at me, her head tilted. "What?"

I took the now-empty leather strand and held it up between two fingers. "It wasn't about power, Molly. It was never about power. You've got plenty of that."

She shook her head. "But… all those times…"

"The beads weren't ever going to go up. Like I said, power had nothing to do with it. You didn't need that. You needed brains." I thumped a forefinger over one of her eyebrows. "You needed to open your eyes. You needed to be truly aware of how dangerous things are. You needed to understand your limitations. And you needed to know why you should set out on something like this."

"But… all I said was that I was scared."

"After what you got to experience? That's smart, kid," I said. "I'm scared, too. Every time something like this happens, it scares me. But being strong doesn't get you through. Being smart does. I've beaten people and things who were stronger than I was, because they didn't use their heads, or because I used what I had better than they did. It isn't about muscle, kiddo, magical or otherwise. It's about your attitude. About your mind."

She nodded slowly and said, "About doing things for the right reasons."

"You don't throw down like this just because you're strong enough to do it," I said. "You do it because you don't have much choice. You do it because it's unacceptable to walk away, and still live with yourself later."

She stared at me for a second, and then her eyes widened. "Otherwise, you're using power for the sake of using power."

I nodded. "And power tends to corrupt. It isn't hard to love using it, Molly. You've got to go in with the right attitude or…"

"Or the power starts using you," she said. She'd heard the argument before, but this was the first time she said the words slowly, thoughtfully, as if she'd actually understood them, instead of just parroting them back to me. Then she looked up. "That's why you do it. Why you help people. You're using the power for someone other than yourself."

"That's part of it," I said. "Yeah."

"I feel… sort of stupid."

"There's a difference in knowing something"—I poked her head again—"and knowing it." I touched the middle of her sternum. "See?"

She nodded slowly. Then she took the strand back from me and put it back on her wrist. There was just enough left to let her tie it again. She held it up so that I could see and said, "So that I'll remember."

I grinned at her and hugged her. She hugged back. "Did