Renegades

by Marissa Meyer

  It was certainly, absolutely not all right, and Nova struggled to think of a reason, but it occurred to her that it might be just as suspicious to send him away as it was to let him inside. Pressing her lips, she stepped back out of the doorway, her mind scouring through every object and possession in the house and trying to determine how any of it could be traced back to Nightmare or the other Anarchists. They had done little to the place since claiming it for themselves, other than a bit of surface cleaning to make it somewhat habitable.

  Adrian stepped inside. Nova gulped and shut the door.

  His focus went to the arrangement of photographs on the wall. He reached out and straightened one of the frames.

  “Are you hungry?” Nova asked, before he could ask who any of the strangers in the photographs were. She trotted past him without waiting for an answer. Swooped one of Honey’s rhinestone hairpins off the coffee table as she passed, tucking it into her pocket. Gathered up Leroy’s old copies of Apothecary magazine and shoved them into a drawer.

  “We have…” Reaching the kitchen, she opened a cupboard and found herself staring at half a dozen mason jars. “Honey.”

  Adrian followed her into the kitchen and she could sense him behind her, staring into the mostly bare cupboard. She shut it and tried the next cupboard, discovering a box of unopened crackers and two cans of tuna fish. She dared not even pretend to look in the refrigerator—she’d opened it once when she first moved in and found the shelves mostly covered in mold. She hadn’t bothered to open it since.

  She grabbed the box of crackers and held them up for Adrian to see.

  “I’m okay, actually,” he said, and the look of confusion mixed with just a hint of pity was impossible not to notice.

  Nova put the box back and shut the door. “We mostly eat out,” she said, by way of explanation.

  Adrian’s eye caught on something through the back window and his brow furrowed.

  Nova tensed, imagining that Ingrid was in the alley or that Honey or Leroy were in the yard. But when she looked, it was only …

  Hives. And nests. And bees. Lots and lots of bees.

  “That’s … um. My uncle’s?” she ventured. “He, uh … he heard there’s good money to be made in beekeeping these days. I guess honey is a pretty desirable … commodity. It’s”—she brushed a hand through the air—“sort of a new thing he’s trying out.”

  Adrian’s eyes were still narrowed, but now there was humor along with the curiosity. “I’m pretty sure honey bees are the only ones that actually produce honey.”

  She glanced out the window again. There were honey bees, but they were mixed together with a heady assortment of buzzing hornets and wasps, yellow jackets and even fat little bumblebees.

  “I know. I know that,” she said. Then she threw up her hands, as if exasperated. “That’s what I keep trying to tell him, but he sort of does his own thing. Doesn’t always like to listen to me.”

  “I’m very familiar with that feeling,” said Adrian. He grinned, and she could tell it was a look intended to comfort her, as if to say that he wasn’t judging her. That she could relax.

  That, she thought, might be the funniest thing of all.

  “Is your uncle home? I thought maybe I could introduce myself.”

  “Oh. No. He’s … out.”

  Adrian nodded. His gaze darted toward the small card table they were using as a makeshift dining table, even though Nova suspected not one meal had yet to be eaten there. There were chairs, too, but she dared not ask him to sit.

  “I’m sorry,” Adrian said suddenly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  She stared at him, and though she could tell he was embarrassed, she wasn’t sure what was causing it—the sad state of her so-called home or her obvious lack of hospitality skills?

  He fidgeted, tapping one knuckle idly against the countertop. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just … was worried. When you weren’t responding to the messages…” He trailed off. Clearing his throat, he finished lamely, “Are you all right?”

  She felt the knots in her stomach tighten even more. “Yeah, fine. I’m just not used to having company.” She was grateful that this, at least, was not a lie.

  “No, I meant, are you feeling all right? The healers said they hadn’t released you yet. They were worried there might still be side effects, or even … I mean, we still don’t know for sure if…”

  If Max took all your powers from you. We still don’t know if you’re a prodigy or not.

  “I feel fine,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “Completely normal.” She attempted a more enthusiastic smile, eager to prove that everyone was concerned over nothing. “Wide-awake and full of energy!” She gave two encouraging thumbs-up.

  Adrian grinned. “Well. If you do start to feel anything … not just tired, but … dizzy or weak or … anything. Just let me know. Or one of the healers.”

  “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  He looked again at the card table and she could see him contemplating something. “Would you mind if I…” He took out his marker and motioned toward the table, as if this gesture adequately finished his question.

  “If you what?”

  Without responding, Adrian bent over the table and started to draw onto its dull gray surface. Nova cocked her head, mesmerized by the quick, confident movements of his hand. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty as to where to place the marker next, where to draw a line or a curve. Soon she saw a round vase emerge, overflowing with an arrangement of roses and lilies.

  The moment he brought the flowers to life, their fragrance drifted through the room, pushing back the staleness of the house.

  Adrian capped the marker and stepped back, frowning at the arrangement. “I really need to start carrying some more colors.”

  Nova laughed. It was true that the monochromatic shades of gray lifted from the table lent a muted aspect to the blooms, but they still brightened the little table, the little kitchen, the little home.

  And it was clear, to her, at least, how much they did not belong there.

  “Will they die?” she said, reaching forward to feel the soft outer petals of one of the roses.

  “Just like real flowers,” he said, though his mouth quirked as he glanced at her again. “But I can always make more.”

  That look made warmth spread across Nova’s cheeks and she turned away, picking up the communicator band off the counter and busying herself by putting it back on. Ingrid’s words came back to her. I trust you’ve noticed how he looks at you …

  “So, um, I had a thought,” said Adrian.

  Nova lifted her eyebrows, but found she wasn’t quite ready to turn back to him fully. “About?”

  “Winston Pratt.”

  She stilled. Hesitated. Then straightened her spine, preparing for … what? An attack? An accusation?

  She told herself she was being ridiculous. If Adrian had come here to cast accusations at her, it wouldn’t have taken this long for him to get around to it. And he certainly wouldn’t have drawn her a vase of flowers first.

  “I think,” Adrian continued, “we should look in to Cosmopolis Park.”

  One hand still tight around the band on her wrist, Nova forced herself to look at him. But Adrian was adjusting some of the blooms inside the vase.

  “What?”

  “Just to check it out.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know Winston was lying about almost everything, but the carnival is one of the few possible clues he gave us. I thought maybe we could go and have a look around. Maybe you could talk to your old boss, see if he’s ever heard anything about a … a girl being abandoned there. Or if he’s ever seen anything suspicious, anything that might tie back to Nightmare or the Anarchists…” Finally, he looked up at her, and Nova couldn’t quite read his expression. The self-assuredness from when he’d been drawing was gone, replaced with something uneasy, but … hopeful?

  “You sure do want to find her, don’t you?”

&nbs
p; “Nightmare?” said Adrian, surprised. “She is Gatlon’s most wanted. Well … her and the Detonator, I guess.”

  “Yeah, but … how did you get so involved with the investigation? Is it because Danna and the others fought her at the parade?”

  “That’s part of it,” he said, that small crease forming between his eyebrows. “But also, she attacked the Council. She attacked my dad.”

  She looked away. “So why isn’t he looking for her?”

  “They don’t really do field work anymore. The Council wants to find her as much as anyone, but that’s part of why they built the Renegades. They can’t do everything themselves. Either way, finding Nightmare is a priority for everyone.” Adrian looked down, fidgeting with the marker. “It’s been years since such a blatant attack was made. In broad daylight, surrounded by both civilians and Renegades. Plus, as far as I know, no one’s ever come that close to actually killing the Captain. It shows that she’s not to be underestimated.”

  Nova’s chest tightened. In a way, she felt a surge of pride to think she’d gotten closer than anyone. But at the same time, it served as a reminder that close was not success. She had failed, and now she had every superhero in the city searching for her.

  And Adrian … if he knew … if he ever found out …

  The spark of pride quickly extinguished.

  “So…,” said Adrian, his tone brightening a bit. “About the carnival. What do you think?”

  She pondered, but could think of no reason to reject the idea. If anything, going to Cosmopolis Park might serve to lead Adrian and the Renegades further away from the truth of her identity and whereabouts.

  At least, she didn’t think there was any harm to it. Even if her paperwork said that she, Nova McLain, had worked there, Nightmare still had no real connection to the place.

  “Sure. Okay.”

  “Cool. Great. Uh … we can meet, say … tomorrow? At noon? If,” he amended, “I can get a release from the medical wing by then.”

  Nova rolled her eyes. “Just let them try to keep me back.”

  Adrian smiled, and Nova’s heartbeat skipped to see the hint of dimples that were usually kept hidden. “Well, I guess I should let you … rest.” His brow knitted. “Or whatever it is you’re doing.”

  He did not move, though, and Nova had the distinct impression he was looking for an invitation. Some reason to linger.

  She refused to give him one.

  “Thanks for the flowers,” she said, ushering him back toward the front door. “And for checking up on me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, hey,” he said, stopping halfway out the door. “Are you planning to come back to headquarters tonight? Because I could, um, try bringing in some sandwiches again.”

  Her chest fluttered and Nova felt almost sad as she shook her head. “I think I might take the night off.”

  “Yeah. Of course. That’s definitely the right plan.”

  He hesitated a moment more, then lifted a hand in a salute and stepped off the porch. Nova waited until his foot hit the sidewalk before closing the door.

  She dropped her forehead against it with a groan, letting all the built-up frantic energy drain out of her.

  “So that’s the Everhart boy?”

  Nova spun around. Honey and Leroy were both peering around the curve of the staircase’s banner.

  She waved her arms at them. “You couldn’t stay hidden until he was at least off our street?”

  Honey giggled. “We were just curious,” she said. “It’s a terrible shame he’s a Renegade, isn’t it? Otherwise, you could have asked him to stay for dinner.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  THE ENTRANCE TO COSMOPOLIS PARK was an enormous concrete archway molded into the shape of a giant carousel pony that seemed to stand guard over the old amusement park. The sculpture had once been painted in pretty peach and pearl white, but the paint had faded and chipped over the years. The proud beast had also lost one side of his face, probably due to vandalism during the Age of Anarchy, and no one had yet seen fit to repair it.

  Nevertheless, the park was one of the many businesses in Gatlon City that had seen a resurgence since the Day of Triumph. It had never been out of operation, exactly, but under Anarchist rule, some villains had incurred a sizable fortune by turning the place into a haven for drug dealing, gambling, and brutal dogfights. Everyone knew the park was the domain of the Puppeteer, but he never bothered putting on any restrictions, so long as he was paid for using his space—whether in money or candy, as Nova had once heard.

  When the Renegades reclaimed the city, it was one of the first areas they saw fit to revive—tearing down many of the ancient, weatherworn rides and constructing a fantasy land in its place, with a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, and a vintage carousel surrounded by games of skill and chance and more than a few vendors of corn dogs and cotton candy. Yet, like so many of the Council’s ongoing projects, they had stopped when the property was just shy of complete, leaving enough details lying around that one could easily recall what it had been, not all that long ago. The back few acres of the park remained fenced off and labeled with warning signs, informing visitors that this area was still under construction. Beyond the chain-link fence, guests could see a deteriorating fun house, grounded boats from the decrepit tunnel of love, and an entire row of carnival games left in shambles, their walls still hung with dozens of purple teddy bears that had been left to sag and grow mildew, abandoned to the elements.

  Adrian was waiting beneath the horse statue’s bridled mouth when Nova arrived. They hadn’t discussed whether or not to wear their uniforms, and seeing him in jeans and a jacket made her instantly regret her choice to wear the gray bodysuit.

  He grinned when he spotted her.

  She glared back. “Seriously? You could have told me we were supposed to be incognito.”

  “I didn’t think of it,” he said. Reaching for the collar of his shirt, he pulled it down far enough to reveal the top of his own suit. “Would you feel better if I changed?”

  “Not really,” she muttered. “You draw enough attention as it is. Are you ready?”

  “I already got our tickets,” he said, pulling them from his pocket. He handed one to her, then cocked his head toward the gates. Nova’s knuckles were white as she gripped the ticket, feeding it into the small machine beneath the horse’s belly. A light flashed and she pushed through the rotating metal bars.

  She cleared the entrance and paused on the other side, scanning the cacophony of lights and bodies, garish rides, chiming games, and booths full of cheap blow-up toys and glow-stick jewelry.

  It was like a completely different place in the daytime.

  “So?” said Adrian, joining her. “How are you feeling?”

  A flurry of emotions responded in answer to the question. She was edgy, she was nervous, she was shaking with adrenaline as her body readied itself for what was coming.

  But that wasn’t what Adrian was asking. She turned to him with the brightest smile she could muster and said, “I didn’t sleep a wink last night, so I feel amazing.”

  He chuckled, and his relief was evident. “Good. I’d hate to lose you after we just found you.”

  “You really think they would kick me off patrols, just because I’d be suddenly forced to sleep like everyone else does?”

  “Not if I could help it.”

  They made their way through the crowds of squealing children and laughing parents, through the aromas of sugary sweet cotton candy and fried funnel cakes that wafted around them. When Adrian had first suggested coming to look around the park, Nova had known little about it, having only been taken there by Leroy and Winston one time, many years ago. But now she felt that she knew the place intimately.

  While the city had slept last night, she had been here, preparing for the stunt she and Ingrid were going to pull off.

  Here, today.

  She had started to plot even before Ingrid had arrived late last night. Because as much as she refus
ed to buy into the idea that she owed Ingrid anything, there was an undeniable appeal to faking her own death. No more Renegades hunting her. No more Adrian hunting her.

  She wasn’t sure they were ready. She would have preferred to take more time to prepare, but she also couldn’t deny that the opportunity had presented itself and was too hard to pass up. Adrian and the Renegades had reason to suspect that Nightmare was associated with the carnival. She and Adrian were investigating that day.

  It would be their best chance to make it believable.

  “So,” said Adrian, “where should we start?”

  They both looked around again. There was a game of strength nearby, where kids were trying to swing a hammer bigger than themselves in order to get a weight to hit an alarm bell at the top. Beyond that was an abundance of games featuring everything from darts and balloons and bottles, to stacks of milk jugs, softballs, and hoops.

  Nova was tempted to guide him straight toward the clues she’d spent the night placing strategically throughout the park, but she worried it would be suspicious if it was all too easy. Instead, she shrugged. “If you were a villain who spent most of your time at an amusement park, what would you do?”

  “Games, probably.”

  She frowned. “Games?”

  “We don’t know much about Nightmare, but we do know she’s a good shot. She has to practice, right?”

  “And you think she practices with carnival games.”

  His eyes twinkled. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid I might beat you?”

  She pointed. “At carnival games? Hardly.”

  Laughing, Adrian dragged her toward a game where the goal was to hit a bull’s-eye painted over the Puppeteer’s face. “Good, because you really have nothing to fear.”

  And he was right.

  Adrian might have been able to draw a functional rifle or illustrate a perfectly balanced blow dart, but he turned out to be a terrible shot himself. They made their way through the games and Nova defeated him at every shooting, aiming, throwing, and targeting contest the park had to offer, though Adrian easily bested her when it came to challenges of strength.