“Oh,” he said, not even realizing that his powers were in use. “Sorry.”
Kirbie stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed together. He hated to see her looking at him like that. “Hey, you want to see something?” he asked, seeing a chance to raise her spirits a little. “Give me your napkin.”
She nodded and handed it to him. He cupped his hands around both sides of the napkin, partly shielding it from passersby. It was a rectangle, a blank white paper canvas. He stared at it, focusing his power on it until the edges began to move rapidly, folding in on one another. He heard Kirbie take in a short breath of air. The napkin moved so quickly that it was almost a blur, Alex pouring all his concentration into it. Before Kirbie knew what was happening, an intricate paper flower was sitting on the table, small and delicate.
“Here,” Alex said, sliding it across to her.
“Thank you,” Kirbie said, her voice soft. “This is incredible, Alex. Wow.”
“Listen . . . ,” he said. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay, what?”
He stared into her eyes, and a shadow passed over her face. He wanted just a few more minutes before they talked about the future.
“Not here,” he said. “Do you want to walk through the park? We can head toward Justice Tower.”
“Okay,” she said wearily. “But you’re kind of freaking me out.”
They walked in silence through the park, watching their silhouettes grow long on the ground. At first they passed people regularly, but the farther they walked, the fewer people they met on the paths. The park was dangerous once night fell, after all. Terrible things happened there, people had heard. Minutes ticked by, until they were once again in front of Centennial Fountain, the heart of the park, by now deserted by tourists. It was at that point that Kirbie could not take the suspense anymore.
“Whatever you have to say, you can tell me,” she said.
“You’re not going to like it,” Alex said, stopping and turning to her. “Just promise me that you’ll try to understand. Or at least that you won’t be too mad. This is me trying to do the right thing, okay?”
“Alex?” She was looking worried, preparing herself for the worst. “What’s wrong?”
Alex stared at her face, the stunning mixture of concern and care, an expression he had rarely seen in his lifetime. Telling her about Cloak’s plans would set into motion a series of events that could easily tear them apart for good. He wanted to stop time in some way, to live in that moment as normal kids, with no worries in the world.
“A lot has happened in the last few weeks,” Alex said, his face grave. “And it feels like I’m seeing things clearly for the first time in . . . well, maybe ever.”
He paused, meeting her eyes.
“I think of you as a friend,” he said.
“Oh. Is that what it’s taken you all night to say?” Kirbie smiled, sighing with relief. “That’s great. I’ve really liked getting to know you too. I’d like it if—”
“No, that’s not it. I mean, it is, but there’s something else. Something about Cloak.”
“What is it?” she asked, her posture stiffening.
Alex opened his mouth to speak, when he felt his arm start to tingle like a sleeping limb coming back to life. The sensation quickly concentrated itself in his right palm, which began to freeze. He stared down at it. An inky skull was forming there, spewing dark energy.
“No,” he muttered.
“Alex?” Kirbie was starting to get frightened now, and she reached a hand out to him. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Run,” he said, his body shaking.
“What?”
“Get out of here. NOW!”
Kirbie glanced at his palm, realized that something terrible was happening, and leaped into the air, taking her bird form. But she was clumsy, her wings getting caught up in her normal clothing, giving her a troubled start. Her shoes fell to the ground, socks ripping apart.
She flew only a few yards before a purple crackle of electricity shot from somewhere in the bushes and caught her, just as she was beginning to rise above the treetops. An anguished call shrieked from her open beak as she began to fall. With each second passing, her body became less birdlike, until she landed in her human form on the ground beside Centennial Fountain with a sickening thump.
“No!” Alex shouted, running toward Kirbie. A pained groan escaped her lips.
Alex recognized the electric energy, of course. It was the unmistakable power of his father, who now stood in the trees off to the left of the path, beside Barrage. Had Alex remembered his training, he would have sought cover and identified his enemies, but he didn’t even bother to glance in their direction. All he cared about was Kirbie, lying motionless on the ground.
Before he could reach her, two more figures rose out of the shadows, cutting him off. The darkness fell away from them like smoke drifting into the air. Phantom and Titan.
“Sorry to interrupt your evening,” Phantom said, her voice a sickening mix of anger and self-satisfaction.
The Cloak Society—his teammates and family. They were dressed casually, in T-shirts and button-downs and jeans—the same things they had been wearing at the meeting that night. They must have left at a moment’s notice. Alex knew there was no way he could take on the High Council. Besides, with Phantom so close by, she would have him sucked into the Gloom before he could even get Kirbie off the ground.
“So it’s true,” his father said, staring him down.
“I can explain,” Alex said, his mind racing, trying to figure out the best course of action.
“There will be no need for that,” a voice from behind him said coldly.
Alex felt hands on the sides of his head. His mother’s lips were at his ear. It was all over now.
“Sleep,” she whispered.
The last thing he saw before blacking out was Titan, picking up Kirbie and slinging her over his shoulder. As Alex’s eyes closed, the metal boy looked back at him and smiled.
15
Weapon of Cloak
When he opened his eyes, Alex could see Kirbie across from him, in a white room on the other side of a huge window. She was seated in a blocky steel chair riveted into the cement floor. Thick metal bands covered her wrists, ankles, and chest. On a table at the back of the room, her messenger bag and its former contents—pens, books, what looked to be a Rangers uniform—were stacked neatly, as if recently cataloged. He instinctively started to move forward, only to find that wide metal cuffs bound him, too. Alex was restrained in the same sort of chair. Nothing made sense to him. He was disoriented, woozy. His watch was partially covered by one of the restraints, but he could see that only a few hours had passed since he’d been in the park with Kirbie.
“Don’t bother struggling,” his mother’s voice came from behind him. She walked around his chair slowly, the tapping of her boots echoing through the room. She had changed into her mission attire; the three silver bands of the High Council gleaming on the shoulders of her trench coat. “You may not recognize these rooms—we’ve been using them for storage since you were a child—but I assure you that they were designed to imprison people far more powerful than you.”
“Mother? It’s . . . hard to . . .” Alex felt like he was stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness.
“To concentrate, I imagine. I’m running a low-level psychic disturbance through your head right now. Nothing damaging. Just think of it as a little static.”
“Kirbie . . .” He looked back at her through the window. Her eyes scoured the steel-and-concrete room. She fidgeted, trying to find a weak point in her restraints.
“She can’t see you,” his mother explained. “Or hear you, for that matter. For all she knows, you planned this. You led her on with your moonlight walks and origami flowers just so we could get a chance at her. That was your original intention, was it not? Well done.”
“No—I—”
“Oh, my Alexander,” she said, w
alking up to his side, placing her hand on his cheek. “How far you have fallen. I assume I don’t have to tell you how disappointed I am. What shame you’ve brought your family. To think that you would betray your own flesh and blood after all that we’ve done for you.”
“Are—are you going to kill me?”
His mother chuckled as if he had suggested the most preposterous thing she could imagine. She was in a much more amiable mood than he had seen her in for a long time, which added to his confusion—and worried him immensely.
“Of course not. You are still my child, Alex. You can be rehabilitated. You would be surprised how easy it is for someone like me to shape the mind of another person. To erase things. Feelings. Memories. To make you forget this conversation, for instance.” She turned to Kirbie. “Or that a person ever existed. Cling to her memory while you can, son. Because I assure you, it is temporary.”
“You’re lying,” he said. Inside his head, he was trying to raise his mental barriers, attempting to concentrate enough to at least think straight.
“Ah, there it is. That blue safe where you keep your private thoughts. I wondered what you had hidden from your mother in there.” She sighed. “I had so hoped that you would mature into the man you were meant to be. I wanted you to become Cloak’s next leader by your own accord. But I see now that I have been too lenient on you.”
“What are you going to do to Kirbie?”
“I’m going to do what’s best for Cloak,” she said matter-of-factly. “The Mayor’s Ball is an opportunity that would have given Cloak the upper hand, but that’s nothing compared to what is sitting in there. That girl possesses knowledge about the Rangers and Justice Tower that we would never be able to find out on our own. I’m going to learn everything she knows, and when I’m done, I’ll strip her mind, cut away her memories, and turn her into something we can use. She’ll be a pile of clay, ready for me to mold. She is powerful, I’ll give her that much. And she has fight in her. So don’t worry. You two will be serving Cloak alongside each other soon enough.”
“No!” Alex shouted as loudly as he could. “You can’t do that. She’s too smart for that. She’s better than that. You . . . you can’t.”
“Oh, poor Alex,” Shade said, patting the top of his head. “You talk as if I’ve never done this before.”
Even in his drowsy state, pieces began to fall into place. The gaps in his memory. The way she talked of stripping someone’s mind. The unquestioning loyalty of the fleet of Unibands living on the first floor. He thought back to all the times he had seen her touch someone’s arm in seeming affection, each time her eyes flashed for a moment. He thought of the nanny he couldn’t remember, and Mallory’s absent childhood. He was horrified to think of what his mother might have done to them.
“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Shade smirked. “As powerful as I am, I doubt I could manipulate minds as strong as Barrage’s or Phantom’s for very long. Still, I may have urged them in directions to my pleasing now and again. I have never enjoyed manipulating anyone within Cloak—or at least none of our brothers and sisters of the Umbra. I’m surprised that you didn’t realize before that Mallory’s history with Cloak was suspect. She was a child of defectors, of a nonpowered member not much younger than me who ran off with a commoner from the city. They tried to hide from us, tried to keep the baby a secret. But in the end, the Cloak Society always wins. It is true that they died in a fire. But that had nothing to do with Mallory’s powers.
“As for the nanny you don’t remember,” she said, picking at a fingernail, “I suppose I was a bit jealous of how much you had taken to her.”
Alex shook his head, trying to push his mother from his mind, not wanting to listen. He had to get free somehow. He couldn’t let this happen to Kirbie. He had to save her.
“There is no way you’re getting out of here, Alex. You are helpless. Your mental blocks are fragile. You still need training. But don’t worry: Mother is here to help.”
Heavy parts were moving within the door to Alex’s left. After a series of clanks, the thick metal slid open, and Alex’s father entered, also dressed in his mission gear, black and silver and imposing. He dragged Gage in with him, bound in shackles that encased his hands entirely in metal. Beneath his right eye was a swollen welt.
“Oh no . . . ,” Alex murmured.
“We’re ready,” Volt said to Shade. He looked to his son but said nothing.
“Then let’s not waste any time,” she said, walking toward the door. “This is for your own good, Alex. I hope the two of you enjoy the show. For the glory.”
“HAIL CLOAK,” Alex screamed, but not of his own accord. His voice was under his mother’s control, shouting so loudly that his throat burned. The door slid shut. His parents were gone.
“Are you injured?” Gage asked.
“What happened?” Alex asked weakly, shaking his head.
“Titan must have been standing behind us long enough to hear that you were going to meet Kirbie,” Gage said. “As soon as I entered the War Room, Titan whispered to his father, who sent him away. While I briefed Barrage on the progress of my work, Titan returned with your mother, who was searching my thoughts before I realized what was happening. I assume after that it was just a matter of showing up in the park and scouring the area. I fear my service to the High Council has come to an end.”
“But they need you,” Alex said. “You’re the only one who can make sure the gun works correctly.”
“She’s been in my head,” Gage said grimly. “Shade knows everything I do about that gun now, and I’ve hardly thought of anything else for weeks. They were only ever taking me as a contingency measure.”
Alex’s stomach cramped, and for a moment, he was afraid he might be sick. He pulled himself together as best he could and spoke.
“Gage,” he said. “I never should have dragged you into this.”
“No,” Gage said. “You have helped to open my eyes.”
“Can you get us out of here? We have to figure out how to escape before they hurt Kirbie.”
“The poetry, of course, is that these restraints are of my own design,” Gage said, nodding toward his hands. “They’re terribly flawless. The room itself is my father’s work, locked electronically from the outside. I could possibly get you out of the chair if my hands were free, but the door is six inches of steel and titanium. The glass is bulletproof. I am afraid we’re stuck.”
“If I can just get my head together,” Alex said, “maybe I can undo the lock with my powers.”
“Forget it. Even if you could sense the inside of the mechanism, the lock itself is rigged. One wrong move and this room fills with an incapacitating agent and we are unconscious for the better part of a day.” Gage motioned with his bound hands to the small vents lining the top of the walls.
“So we’re helpless,” Alex said, looking back up at Kirbie. “My mother was right.”
The door inside Kirbie’s cell slid open. Shade and Phantom stepped in slowly, flanking the girl, who was straining against her bonds. Alex could hear the sounds in the other room piped in from speakers somewhere in the walls. He wanted to cry out of frustration. This was entirely his fault, and all he could do was sit and watch.
“Good evening, Kirbie,” Shade said, circling the girl’s chair, taking her time with each calculated step. “I’ve just been through a crash course in my son’s extracurricular activities, most of which have to do with you. You’re very clever, leading him on like that, trying to turn him over to your side. Does it pain you to know that when we’re through with him, he’ll be completely devoted to us?”
“Leave Alex alone,” Kirbie growled through clenched teeth. “He doesn’t deserve this.”
“Alexander was born to serve our cause,” Shade said. “His gift is extraordinary. My son will grow to be the most powerful weapon we have. He will help us show this world that we are its destined leaders—to be feared and obeyed. Nothing you do or say will get in the way of that.”
r /> “You’re no different from every other second-rate loser the Rangers have put in prison,” Kirbie said, struggling against the chair’s bonds. Her hands began to morph, becoming more clawlike. Phantom, standing off to the side, saw this and smiled maliciously.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said. “Transforming causes mass to redistribute itself throughout your body, does it not? Against these metal bands, you’d snap half your ribs if you tried to turn right now.”
Kirbie became still and stopped morphing, but her expression remained indignant and full of rage.
“You’re wondering if we’re going to kill you,” Shade continued, walking closer to the girl, “but I assure you that you and your wonderful powers are of far more use to us if you are alive.”
Shade leaned in close to the girl’s ear.
“You see, unlike your parents, I recognize potential when I see it.”
Kirbie’s eyes bore deep into Shade’s, her lips trembling with anger.
“Now,” Shade said, smiling, “let’s see if you can’t be of some use to us tonight.”
“I won’t tell you anything,” Kirbie growled.
“Oh, that’s sweet, dear,” Shade said. She stroked the girl’s hair. Her eyes were staring through the one-way mirror, as if she could see her son in the other room. “But you won’t have to say a thing.”
Alex watched in horror as his mother’s eyes turned a gleaming, metallic silver and Kirbie’s head fell back. He cried out, but no one in the other room could hear him. Energy sprayed weakly from his body, but in his current confused head, it was nothing more than a breath washing over his cell. Gage looked away, closing his eyes.
Shade’s face was raised toward the ceiling, painted with a look of pure ecstasy as she plumbed the depths of Kirbie’s mind. The psychic interrogation lasted for less than a minute, at which point her eyes went back to normal. Kirbie remained unconcscious. Alex’s mother braced herself on the back of the chair, raising a hand to her temples and rubbing them as if her head ached. She needed a moment to process the information she’d just stolen from Kirbie’s brain. She needed to figure out how to proceed.