Nova scowled. “Taking my bracelet wasn’t scavenging.”
“I know,” said Adrian. “You’re right. Obviously, theft is against the code. But a lot of the kids who come here, Magpie included, had pretty rough childhoods. Sure, there are some parents who think it’s great when their kid turns out to be a prodigy, but there are also lots of people who are still afraid of what we can do. Who don’t trust us. And for them, to have a kid with superpowers is”—he frowned, his heart twisting as he thought of countless stories he had heard of young prodigies being neglected, abused, even abandoned—“not ideal,” he finished lamely, returning his gaze to Nova. “Anyway, when they get here, we try to teach them right from wrong, but it can be hard to overcome some of the survival instincts they’ve developed up to this point. We’re working on it, though.”
Nova was still watching Maggie down below, her lips pinched. Then she glanced down to where her fingers were spinning her delicate bracelet around the wrist of her gray uniform. Clamping her hand over the bracelet, she sighed. “Don’t tell me the Renegades have set up a children’s home for wayward prodigies, on top of everything else.”
“Nothing that official,” said Adrian, smiling faintly. “But when kids come to us without any families of their own, we do try to find a Renegade family for them to live with.”
Nova glanced up at him, and he could see a question lingering behind her eyes. Maybe she was wondering about his own family, his own past. The adoptive celebrity dads everyone wanted to know about.
She turned away without mentioning them, though, lifting her chin as she scanned the busy hall. “Where does the Sentinel train?”
Adrian tensed. “What?”
Her expression was thoughtful as she peered around. “The Sentinel,” she repeated. “That Renegade that showed up at the parade? Does he train here with everyone else, or is there a special area for him? Or … Renegades like him. Are there more than one?”
Her tone was light, innocent, but Adrian couldn’t stop gaping at her, unable to tell if the question was really as innocuous as it sounded, or if there was something more to it than appeared on the surface. If there was an accusation hidden beneath her words.
When Nova faced him, curiosity was etched into her features.
It was Ruby who responded first. “He’s an impostor,” she said, with enough spite to make Adrian flinch.
Nova turned to her. “The Sentinel?”
“He’s pretending to be a Renegade,” said Ruby, “but he’s not. He’s a fake.”
Nova’s gaze shifted between the three of them, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. “You all really believe that?”
Her focus landed on Adrian and he managed to gather himself, shaking off the bout of paranoia. “No one had ever heard of him before that day. Whoever he is, he hasn’t revealed his identity to anyone here.”
“But he’s a prodigy, and a powerful one,” said Nova, and somehow, that small, offhanded compliment sent a faint surge of pride through Adrian’s chest. “And who other than the Renegades would have the resources to make a suit like the one he wears? Or find a way to combine multiple superpowers into one human being?” She glanced at Ruby and Oscar, but somehow her attention always seemed to return to Adrian. Searching and quizzical, as though she could tell how hard he was trying to act oblivious. “If you guys don’t know who he is, then … maybe he’s a classified project that hasn’t been revealed to everyone yet. Right?”
“That’s what I thought at first too,” said Oscar. “But when the Council heard that he’d been acting on their behalf, claiming to have acted on their orders and whatnot, they seemed livid.”
Adrian lowered his gaze.
“And I’m not sure you can fake that sort of thing,” Oscar added. “At least, not all of them. Not like that.”
“Huh,” said Nova, and it was clear she remained skeptical. “I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
Adrian scratched his right forearm, where his new tattoo was still sore beneath the bandage.
“Oh, look!” said Ruby, pointing down to the training floor. “There’s Danna.”
Glad for the diversion, Adrian followed the gesture and spotted Danna on one of the training mats below, bracing herself against a padded bench. On the other side of the mat, one of their trainers was holding, of all things, a slingshot.
As they watched, Ballistic, the trainer, aimed straight up and fired, sending a high-drag projectile flapping toward the ceiling.
Danna crouched, flipping her long dreadlocks over one shoulder as she focused on the target. Then she leaped and her body dispersed into a cyclone of butterflies soaring upward. The creatures surrounded the projectile and Danna reformed, grabbing it with one hand and dropping back down to the ground. It was nearly a perfect catch, but as her feet touched the ground again, she let out a pained grunt and collapsed to one knee.
Adrian grimaced.
“Monarch?” said Nova.
“You’ve done your research,” said Oscar. “She’s on our team, too, but she got injured at the parade so she couldn’t come to the trials.”
“Come on,” said Ruby, latching on to Nova’s arm. “We’ll introduce you.”
They made their way to the next staircase. As they approached Danna’s mat, Adrian could hear Ballistic reminding her to stay in swarm formation as she descended, as her body wasn’t ready for such a fall. Danna fisted her hands as she rebuked, “It’s not that easy! Twenty-nine butterflies were burned off. It’d be like you trying to catch the thing with three missing fingers!”
She spotted their group and straightened, swiping her forearm across her damp brow. Her attention turned to Nova.
“They let you out of the med wing!” cried Ruby. Releasing Nova, she swung her arms wide in celebration. Adrian barely recoiled fast enough to avoid another hit to his nose. “That’s faster than they thought, right?”
Danna heaved a sigh, casting a sour look at the trainer. “They said I could start retraining myself to use the swarm. You’d be amazed what a difference it makes when I lose a bunch like that. It’s like learning to control them all over again.”
Adrian’s shoulders knotted. Twenty-nine butterflies were burned off.
“But I need to make it through the obstacle course before they send me out on patrol again,” Danna continued. “It’ll be at least another couple of weeks.”
“After those burns?” said Oscar, nodding at the small lump where there must have been bandages beneath her uniform. “Lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“And that the healers are so great,” added Ruby. Beaming, she gestured at Nova. “You haven’t met our new girl yet.”
Danna faced Nova. “Insomnia, right?” she said, holding out a hand. “I saw the trial. Impressive.”
Nova accepted the handshake, though as soon as Danna released her she quickly pulled her hand back against her side. “Gargoyle’s not as scary as he thinks.”
Danna chuckled. “I won’t lie. It was refreshing to see someone put Frostbite’s team in their place.” She slumped onto the padded bench. “Five-minute break?” she called over to Ballistic, but he had already turned and started working with Flashbolt, a boy who had what looked like glass marbles embedded in his palms.
Danna turned her gaze back up to Nova. “I heard Sketch thinks you’ll be a decent surveillance asset.”
Nova’s eyebrows lifted and she glanced at Adrian.
He scratched the back of his neck. “We haven’t really started to discuss—”
“But there’s a lot more to being a good spy than people think,” Danna interrupted.
Nova’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t say.”
“You were great at the trials, but they don’t really prepare you for reality, you know. In a real situation, especially a surveillance mission, you have to pay attention to the details. And remember them. Put the smallest clues together to make a whole. You never know what’s going to be important, so you can’t discount anything.”
Adrian
cleared his throat. “Danna is sort of the team surveillance expert. But obviously, what she can do is a different skill set than what you can do. We don’t expect … we’re grateful to have you both.”
Nova’s lips formed a thin smile. “Thanks for the tip, Monarch. Truly, I think I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can,” said Danna. “I just want you to stay on your toes. I need to make sure these slackers are in good hands when you’re out there without me.”
“Test me, if you want,” said Nova, with a casual shrug. “See if I pass inspection.”
Adrian glanced at Oscar, and seeing the awkwardness written plain on his face was glad he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension. “This isn’t—”
“No, really,” said Nova. “I don’t mind. It wasn’t fair that she wasn’t at the trials, and I want Danna to feel confident in your choice. Eventually, she and I will be on the team together too, right? So, go ahead. Let’s see how good I am at this surveillance stuff.”
Danna leaned back on her palms, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Okay. Without looking … how many exits are there out of this hall?”
“Oh, come on,” said Ruby. “This is her first day.”
“Seven,” said Nova, holding Danna’s gaze.
A second passed, before Oscar turned in a circle, counting exits under his breath. When he finished, he gave a mild huh.
Adrian, too, found himself scanning the hall.
“Though one could argue,” Nova added, “that with this many prodigies around, able to manipulate metal or blow their way through concrete, there is potential for countless more exits if needed.”
Danna’s face softened. She was beginning to smile when Nova continued, “There are also ten security cameras, two fire extinguishers, and five vending machines—one of which sells nothing but candy, which seriously has me questioning the Renegades’ commitment to adequate nutrition.”
Oscar laughed. “She’s already got our number there. Wait until you see the cafeteria. They have a mac-and-cheese bar!”
Danna’s lips turned upward. “How many occupants?”
Nova lifted an eyebrow. “Do you know how many people are in here?”
“Nope,” said Danna. “Just checking that you’re not actually better at this than I am.”
Nova rocked back on her heels. “Well, I don’t have an exact count. Fifty-ish, I’d guess. And so far, I’ve only discerned the abilities of sixteen of them.”
On the mat beside them, the trainer threw a disc and Flashbolt lifted his hands, shooting a series of colored lightning bolts out of his marbled palms, striking the disc as it arced through the hall.
“Seventeen,” Nova amended.
Adrian grinned. “Now who’s showing off?”
Nova turned a startled look on him, and there was a moment in which the confident, bold contestant from the trials stood beside him. But a second later, her cheeks flushed and she shrank back slightly, bashful or disoriented. He couldn’t quite tell which.
Danna nodded appreciatively. “It sounds like you’ll be fine. Just try to keep them out of trouble, won’t you?”
“Is that in my job description?” Nova asked.
“Not at all,” said Danna, pulling her dreadlocks back and securing them in a low tail. “But I’ll feel better if I know you’re spending half as much energy watching over these guys as you apparently spend watching everyone else.”
Nova grinned brightly and stuck up her thumbs, in what Adrian was absolutely sure was mock positivity. “You can count on me.”
“Well,” said Adrian, clapping his hands together. “We better let you get back to it. Don’t let Ballistic push you around too much, okay?”
Danna grunted, waving halfheartedly after them as they made their way back toward the stairs.
“That just leaves one more stop on this tour,” said Adrian.
“The cafeteria?” said Nova, not very enthusiastically.
“Don’t knock the cafeteria,” said Oscar. “It is free and it is awesome.”
Adrian shook his head. “Not the cafeteria, though I’m sure Oscar will gladly show you around there later if you ask. Actually, I have someone special I want you to meet. We call him the Bandit.”
“The Bandit?” she said, with a mild laugh.
“Yep. He has, in fact, requested a special audience with you.”
“The Bandit,” she drawled again. “What is this, the Wild West?”
Adrian grinned back at her. “Some days I wonder.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THEY TOOK THE ELEVATOR back up to the main lobby, then climbed a spiraling staircase, through a short corridor, and out onto the sky bridge Nova had noticed when she first entered the building. She spotted the glass room again, a circular enclosure full of small sculptures that had glistened like crystal stalagmites from down below.
As they got closer, the view through the windows became clear and she saw that it wasn’t random sculptures at all, but a model of Gatlon City, constructed in jaw-dropping detail. It was made entirely of clear, sparkling glass.
“What is this, an art installation?” she said as her eyes traced the skyline to the edge of City Park, up to the top of Renegade Headquarters and across to Merchant Tower, then down to the docks on the marina and the bridges that spanned Snakeweed River.
“Not exactly,” said Adrian, rapping his knuckles on the window. “It’s more like … a model playset. It’s sort of the Bandit’s pastime.”
“And who is the Bandit?”
“His real name is Max.” He knocked on the glass. “Hey, Max—you have a guest.”
Nova spotted a figure emerging on the other side of the cityscape. He was a kid, maybe ten years old, with sand-blond hair that curled messily around his ears and thick eyebrows. He picked his way through the glass city, his bare feet making their way along Broad Street, stepping carefully over taxicabs and trees in miniature planter boxes and the occasional glass pedestrian. He was so intent at first on watching his footing that he was halfway across the city before he noticed Nova.
He froze, his eyes widening. “Insomnia!”
“Bandit?” she guessed.
He jogged the rest of the way to the window that divided them. On this side of the model city, the skyscrapers dropped off into warehouses and shipyards. A wide expanse of what would have been the beach surrounding Harrow Bay offered him a convenient place to stand. “That fight at the trials—that was the best thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t stand Gargoyle. And wow, look, you’re even shorter than I thought!”
Oscar leaned against the glass wall. “Have you ever even talked to Gargoyle?”
Max cast his gaze upward in disgust. “Please. I’ve seen enough interviews with Frostbite and her team to know his brain is two-thirds sedimentary.”
Nova’s mouth stretched into what might have been the first real smile she’d had all day. “Did you just make a geology joke?”
Max ignored the question, turning instead to Adrian. “Can you draw her?”
Nova’s eyes widened. “Draw … who? Me?”
“Uh, sure,” said Adrian, his gaze darting in her direction. “If she doesn’t mind.”
“You have to say yes,” said Max, digging into his back pocket and pulling out a six-inch-tall glass figurine of Gargoyle. “Look. I’m setting up the trials.” He pointed in the direction he’d come from. “The arena’s back there. I wanted to stage it at the part where you won and joined our team.”
Nova looked past the skyscrapers, and though she couldn’t see the arena from where she stood, she could easily imagine it on the other side of the downtown district, mirroring its location in the real world.
“Our team?” She looked at Adrian, who had already crouched down and started drawing on the glass wall.
It was Oscar who responded. “Max can’t do patrols, so we made him an honorary member of the group. That way he at least gets a uniform.”
Nova looked back at the boy, who was currently wearing flannel plaid pajam
as.
“How’s this?” said Adrian.
She took a step back so she could see his drawing—a simple, yet remarkably accurate portrait of herself on the glass. The drawing was not wearing the Renegade uniform like she wore now, but the simple ribbed shirt and sport leggings she’d had on at the trials. He’d even drawn the tiny cannon in her hand.
“Perfect,” said Max.
Adrian pressed his palm against the drawing, and Nova watched as the ink seeped right through the window, emerging on the other side as a three-dimensional figurine.
“Wow,” she mused. “My first day on the job and I’m already an action figure.”
Adrian lifted his head and grinned.
Max took the figure and scampered back through the city. He paused when he was turning the corner onto Raikes Avenue. “Thanks, Adrian. It was a pleasure to meet you, Insomnia. I’m a really huge fan.”
Adrian saluted him, and Nova, not knowing quite how to react to this odd encounter, saluted too.
“Thanks?” she started, though Max had turned his back on them. She took in the city again, inspecting it more closely than before. “Did you make all this?”
“It’s been a pet project for years.” Adrian stood again and put away the marker. “A labor of love. Keeps Max occupied, at least.”
She scanned the inside of the room, or what she could see of it. There was a path that led around the sky bridge and a closed door on the other side of the enclosure. “He’s not locked up in there, is he?”
When no one answered, she glanced around to see that a shadow had passed over Adrian’s face, and both Ruby and Oscar were frowning. Not so much angry or sad as … resigned.
“It’s not a prison,” said Adrian. “He could leave if he wanted to, or needed to. But he knows…” He hesitated. “He never tries. To leave.”
“Why not?”
He met her eyes. “We call it the quarantine. He has to stay in there for his own good. And ours too.” He shrugged. “It’s as comfortable as they can make it.”
“So he’s sick.”
“Not exactly,” Adrian said, drawing out his words. “He’s…”