They have by this point explained everything to her that they can. It’s gone more smoothly than Manny expected, probably because Padmini just saw a pool try to eat two children. It’s been awkward, too, however, because Padmini’s relative—the older woman, whom Padmini has introduced as Aishwarya Aunty—has come down to see why Padmini apparently ran out of their apartment at full tilt and then teleported to the neighbor’s backyard. Aunty hasn’t said much, but she’s hovering and radiating protectiveness in a way that Manny would admire if so many of her hostile glares weren’t directed at him and Brooklyn.
But he knows the answer to Brooklyn’s question, so he decides to interject.
“Going after collaterals is good strategy,” he says, sighing as he slides his hands into his pockets. “Family, neighbors, coworkers—anyone who isn’t capable of defending themselves. Start some kind of high-profile chaos involving people the target cares about, which might both lure her out of a safe position and distract her with worry or grief. Then attack while she’s off guard.”
He’s abruptly aware that Brooklyn has narrowed her eyes at him. He knows why. There’s just nothing he can do about it. Her voice is neutral, though, when she speaks. “How was she in a safe position beforehand?”
“Yes, how?” That’s from Aishwarya Aunty, who looks like a taller, fortysomething version of the avatar of Queens, and is pretty regal herself in a gloriously sunset-orange-themed cotton sari. “If you aren’t just crazy.” Padmini tries to hush her.
Manny turns to point at Padmini’s apartment building. It’s an ordinary-looking wooden frame house, four stories high. She’s told them she lives on the top floor with Aishwarya and Aishwarya’s husband, and their new baby. “That building,” Manny says. “It’s glowing, isn’t it? We all see that?”
Brooklyn turns to look, and Padmini gasps. Glowing isn’t exactly the word for what they’re seeing, Manny suspects, but it’s close enough. The sun has slanted toward sunset, backlighting the building in a way that would be eerie if this were Amityville instead of Jackson Heights. That’s not what Manny wants them to notice. What he hopes they see, and what all of them except Aishwarya clearly do, is that Padmini’s building is different from Mrs. Yu’s, and from every building around it. Brighter, somehow. More defined? Almost as if the building has been Photoshopped for greater sharpness while the rest of the block retains a fuzzier contrast. Somehow, that building is right in a way that the Checker cab had been, now that Manny thinks about it—and his own apartment building, once he’d stepped off the elevator. He noticed the change at the time, but hadn’t understood it.
“I don’t think the Enemy can get into that building,” Manny says. “Something has made it more Queens, so to speak, than the rest of Queens.”
“You’re saying I did that?” Padmini shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything. Until you two showed up, I had no idea why any of this was happening. Why would I be able to—” She gestures at her building in frustration.
“I don’t know. But I wish you could tell us how you did it. This thing is targeting us one by one, and I don’t think it’s going to stop. There doesn’t seem to be an instruction manual or a wise old mentor anywhere to help us figure out the rules, but if we keep playing catch-up, it’s going to win, eventually.”
Manny sighs and rubs a hand over his face, suddenly very tired. It’s been a long day. Between them is a little plate of baozhi that Mrs. Yu put out for them, and he bends to take one, suddenly ravenous. It’s delicious. He takes another.
Brooklyn sighs as well. “Look, I’m worn out, and I missed lunch riding up to Inwood to save this one from the feather monster.” She jabs a thumb at Manny. “I think we need to rethink trying to do this all at once. Not going to do anybody any good if we drop where we stand.”
“Shouldn’t we go to the Bronx?” Manny frowns. “Since we know who she is. And, uh, what’s the fifth borough, again? I forgot, sorry.”
“Staten Island,” Brooklyn says. “I have no idea how to find her, though.”
“‘Her’?” asks Padmini.
Brooklyn blinks. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from. It feels right, though. Doesn’t it?” She looks at each of them. Padmini frowns and nods slowly. Manny does, too.
“Well, okay, then.” Brooklyn shakes her head, plainly uneasy about the strange knowledge dropping into her head. “My point was that the, uh, that woman, has probably already gone after the Bronx and Staten Island, same as she did all of us. And the fact that those boroughs haven’t exploded or something means that the people who represent them have figured out enough to survive so far. They’re probably confused as hell, but they may not need our help any more than she did.” Brooklyn nods toward Padmini.
“I am certainly confused,” Aishwarya Aunty mutters. Padmini pulls her to sit down on the step beside her, and they start having a hastily muttered conversation in some other language. Tamil, Manny knows. He knows so many things that he should not.
“There’s another of us,” he blurts. When they all look at him, Aishwarya with narrowed eyes, he explains. “Not five, but six. The Woman in White, she kept going on about another. Someone who’d fought her—beaten her—but not completely. That’s why she’s still able to attack us.”
“Six?” Brooklyn frowns. She’s been staring at the baozhi, and now finally gives in to temptation, taking the last one. Almost immediately the door behind them cracks open, and Mrs. Yu puts out another plate of three. Manny nods to her awkwardly, but she doesn’t bother looking at them before closing the door again. Meanwhile, Brooklyn continues, “Ain’t but five boroughs, Manny.”
“Five shapes that fit together make one whole,” Padmini says, shrugging. Manny blinks in confusion, but Brooklyn inhales.
“You mean the city as a whole,” she says, her eyes widening. “Not a borough at all, but… New York? The city of New York, all in one person.” She whistles, shaking her head, but it’s clear that she believes it. Manny does, too, now that the concept exists in his mind. “He must be all kinds of crazy.”
“But strong,” Manny murmurs. A shiver passes through him; the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Why? He doesn’t know. But he does not want to question his assessment, or Brooklyn’s assumption that the embodiment of New York is male. “If he fought whatever it was that took out the bridge, by himself, we need him.”
Padmini slowly holds up a hand. “Uh, then if we’re voting, I vote with Ms. Brooklyn. You both look exhausted. I feel exhausted. It will be dark soon, and I would like very much to have some time to think about all this. Maybe we could, ah, adjourn for the night, and reconvene in the morning?”
“That’s foolish,” snaps Aishwarya Aunty. They all stare at her, and her scowl deepens. “You just said something was hunting you. You want to split up now, and make it easier to pick you off? Together you can at least watch one another’s backs.”
“Aunty? You believe us?” Padmini asks. She looks wide-eyed, hopeful, and very young.