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Zusatztext “Mystery intertwined with fantasy! and chapters arranged by date! give urgency to the fantasy-mystery-action hybrid.” Informationen zum Autor M.M. Vaughan (also known as Monica Meira) lives in the UK. She loves to write, to listen to Janis Joplin, and to embark on adventures of any kind. She is the author of The Ability, Mindscape, Six, and Me and My Friendroid. Iacopo Bruno is an illustrator and graphic designer living in Milan, Italy. Klappentext Readers can delve into the extraordinary abilities of the mind of 12-year-old Christopher Lane! in this thrilling start to a middle-grade series that expands the possibilities of power. Illustrations. The Ability • CHAPTER ONE • Wednesday, October 17 Cecil Humphries, the government minister for education, despised most things, amongst them: Cyclists. The seaside. Being called by his first name. Weddings. The color yellow. Singing. But at the top of this list was children. He hated them, which was rather unfortunate given that he was in charge of the well-being of every child in Britain. He knew, however, that the public was rather fond of them, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, and so he had reluctantly accepted the position, sure that it would boost his flagging popularity and take him one step closer toward his ultimate goal: to take the job of his old school friend Prime Minister Edward Banks. Unfortunately for him, the public was far more perceptive than he gave them credit for, and kissing a couple of babies’ heads (then wiping his mouth afterward) had resulted only in a series of frustrating headlines, including: HUMPHRIES LOVES BABIES (BUT HE COULDN’T EAT A WHOLE ONE) The more he tried to improve his image, the more it backfired on him, which only intensified his hatred of anybody under the age of eighteen, if that were at all possible. It was only fitting, therefore, that the person who would ruin his career and leave him a quivering wreck in a padded cell for the rest of his life would be a twelve-year-old boy. • • • The beginning of the end for Cecil Humphries began on an uncharacteristically warm, sunny day in Liverpool. It had been four days since he had been photographed by a well-placed paparazzo stealing chocolate from the hospital bedside of a sick child and only two days since he had been pelted with eggs and flour when the photograph appeared on the front page of every newspaper in the country. Even for someone well accustomed to bad press, this had been a particularly awful week. Humphries looked out of the window of his chauffeured car, saw the smiling children, and sighed. “Never work with animals or children. Anyone ever tell you that?” he grumbled. James, his assistant, looked up from his notes, nodded obediently, and said nothing, as he had learned to do. “Different school, same brats,” he continued as the car pulled up outside the school entrance. “It’s like reliving the same nightmare every single time: a disgusting mass of grubby hands, crying, and runny noses.” He took out a comb from his jacket pocket and ran it through what remained of his hair. “You know which ones wind me up the most, though?” “No, sir,” said James. “The cute ones. Can’t stand them, with their big eyes and irritating questions.” He shuddered at the thought. “Do try to keep those ones away from me today, would you? I’m really not in the mood.” Humphries adjusted his dark blue tie and leaned over to open the car door. “What’s the name of this cesspit?” he asked as he pulled back the door handle....
