Until I Die

…”
“The revenants call him the Champion. And we will be the ones to identify him.”
It took me a few seconds of realization, and then everything was suddenly, shockingly clear. “Your mother can identify the Champion,” I stated, clarifying. “And the numa came looking for her. Because if the Champion is found, the numa will know the identity of the one who will conquer them.”
“That is correct. But if they find him before he can overthrow them, they will attempt to seize his power for themselves.”
“Seize his power?” I asked, confused.
“The texts state that the Champion’s power can be transmitted by force. If he is captured, the one who destroys him will receive his power. As you can imagine, the results would be disastrous.”
“And the numa want to force your mother to tell them who it is.”
“That is right. But they are misled. It isn’t my mother who will find the Champion.”
“What do you mean?”
“She possesses our family’s theories on when and where it will happen. And some coded clues about who it will be. But as far as identification on sight—the gift of the VictorSeer—my mother claims she doesn’t have that capability.”
“So will it be you?”
“Me or one of my descendants.”
“You have descendants?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled. “Some say that my boyfriend is the Champion.”
The line was silent for a long time. Finally Bran spoke. “My mother has not yet passed me the gift. When she does, I will contact you. Bring your boyfriend to me then. If I am indeed the VictorSeer and he indeed the Champion, we will know it then and there.”
I gave him my phone number. And then I gave him my grandparents’ number as well. I didn’t know how long it would take for him to call me. But I guessed it could be years.

THIRTY-TWO
     
    IT WAS ONLY THREE CALENDAR DAYS AFTER OUR weekend in the south, but it felt like it had been three weeks. Vincent had worked nonstop with Jean-Baptiste since the moment we had returned, and I had kept busy with homework and a Casablanca movie date with Violette.
But I had awaited this afternoon with a feeling of anticipation, knowing that Vincent would be meeting me here at Papy’s where I was working for the afternoon. After the break-in, Papy had tried to cancel my gallery-sitting sessions, saying it was too dangerous. But I convinced him that it was doubtful the thieves would return in broad daylight … if they dared return at all.
Ambrose dropped me off after school, leaving only after I reassured him that Vincent was arriving at any moment. Papy had invited him to come see the new Greek war helmet he was bringing back from his appointment, using Vincent’s interest in ancient weaponry as an excuse to invite him to the gallery. But I knew that neither of them needed the enticement. They genuinely enjoyed the other’s company.
I wandered around the gallery, looking at the cleanup job Papy had done since Monday. He had immediately replaced the glass cases, but it would take a while for him to restock them with new inventory. The doorbell rang, and I skipped to the desk to push the button for the door release. But the huge smile that spread across my face quickly faded as I saw that it wasn’t Vincent coming through the door. It was two men I had never seen before. And I could tell, before they even said a word, that they were numa.
They were on me in an instant, crossing the gallery in a blink of an eye. They didn’t touch me. They didn’t need to. They just loomed.
“What do you want?” I asked. The words came out as a squeak: My throat was squeezed shut as effectively as if a boa constrictor was looped around my neck. I instinctively glanced around for something to fight them with, but there was nothing within grabbing distance, and I doubted I could get very far before they would stop me.
“We want to know what she told you.”
“Who?” I asked, confused.
“You know who. The old lady healer. What did she tell you about the Champion?”
I blinked in sudden comprehension. “She didn’t tell me anything about the Champion.”
“We know you talked to her. And now her son says she’s gone and he doesn’t know where.”
“Although we’re keeping an eye on the place to make sure he’s not lying,” sneered the other, as if this were one big joke.
My fear evaporated and was replaced by fury. “You better not hurt them!” I growled.
They both stared at me, surprised by my outburst. And then, with a low, evil laugh, one stepped