She started to head toward the vault, but paused. “Hey, Callum? You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find Magpie, would you?”

“That troublemaker?” He pondered the question. “Well. I guess I’d check to see if the cleanup crews have been called out for anything today. Barring that … maybe the lounges?”

Nova nodded. “Thanks, I’ll give that a shot.”

She passed through the filing room, half expecting to see Tina—or Snapshot, the official keeper of the vault—but the room was empty. Stepping into the enormous warehouse, full of row upon row of towering shelving units, each stocked with famous, and some not-so-famous, prodigy-related artifacts, Nova exhaled a long, slow breath.

Squaring her shoulders, she grabbed the cart containing a handful of recently cleaned objects, set the clipboard on top of it, and started pushing it down the main aisle. She returned the first two objects to their places among the collection—the Wandering Map and Tarot’s fortune-making deck of cards—but as she made her way to the back armory for the next two items, she took a detour through the section of prodigy-made tools and weaponry.

She spotted Turmoil’s Sound Deadener sitting on its shelf and recalled renting it out to Genissa Clark what felt like ages ago, though she’d never found out what Frostbite wanted it for.

Not far from the Deadener was the spot where Fatalia’s mist-missiles had been. The label remained on the shelf, but the missiles themselves were gone. Nova had taken them when she and Leroy were converting the stolen samples of Agent N into a chemical weapon, and with some minor tweaking, the missiles had provided the exact casing they’d needed. Nova had used two in her fight against Genissa Clark and her team. The remaining four had been stowed away with Leroy’s stuff at the house, and were now stored safely beneath Dave’s Pawnshop.

On the other side of the Sound Deadener was the object Nova had come for. She felt some of the tension leave her body at the sight of it. After Adrian had told her that all mirrors were being systematically removed from headquarters to prevent any more break-ins from the mirror walker, she’d worried that this, too, would have been moved to a more secure location.

It seemed the Renegades had neglected to inventory their warehouse of powerful artifacts. Though to be fair, the object almost didn’t even resemble a mirror. Nova picked it off the shelf—a large oval surface, as long as her arm, was framed in simple pewter, making the whole thing unexpectedly heavy for its size. Tilting it up, Nova peered into her reflection. The surface was dark and distorted, so that her face appeared like a phantom of herself.

The Hollow Glass, reported to reflect the shape of one’s soul when peered into under the light of an equinox moon.

Whatever that meant.

Nova had a much more mundane use in mind for it.

It wasn’t as big as a dressing room mirror, or the large mirror she had once seen Narcissa walk through at the library, but Narcissa had a small frame and lithe limbs (though she was at least three inches taller than Nova herself, which would surprise Callum if he ever crossed paths with her impostor).

She thought it would be big enough.

It would have to be big enough.

Wondering if this could be her last act of subterfuge while wearing the guise of a Renegade, Nova slipped the mirror onto the bottom shelf of the cart and wheeled it back toward the front.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Nova tracked Magpie down at a nearby construction site. She’d learned, talking to a few folks in the HQ call center, that on days when there were no crime scenes to investigate, the cleanup crews were often sent to local community rebuilding projects. Though Gatlon City had changed significantly in the past ten years, it still maintained scars from the Age of Anarchy, with plenty of neighborhoods suffering from run-down buildings that were as unsafe as they were unattractive, half-demolished structures, city parks left overgrown and untended, and on and on. Today’s project was an abandoned school that the Renegades had hopes of renovating into a community recreation center.

Nova couldn’t help wondering, as she approached the building with its pile of discarded rubble outside and broken windows and missing roof tiles, why such a job had fallen into the hands of the Renegades. Weren’t there civilian tradesmen who could use the work? Carpenters who could frame walls and install windows just as well as a prodigy could?

Ducking past the line of orange safety cones, Nova stepped into the overhang of the building. Seeing her gray-and-red uniform, most of the workers ignored her, going about their business.

It only took a few minutes to find Magpie in a back room. She was sifting through a pile of debris, using her limited telekinetic powers to separate anything that could be deemed reusable, from an intact light fixture to a tangle of copper wiring.

She looked immensely bored.

Until she glanced up and spotted Nova. She started and the copper wiring tumbled back into the rubble.

Then she was sneering, which was exactly what Nova had expected.

Callum, always cheerful. Magpie, always cantankerous.

“You have something that belongs to me,” said Nova, crossing the room. She held out her hand. “I’d like it back.”

Magpie stepped away, and made the subtlest of movements—one hand briefly pressing against the side cargo pocket of her pants. She covered it up quickly, though, by fisting her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nova raised an eyebrow and considered putting the girl to sleep and moving on with her day. She really didn’t have time for this. But that, she knew, could come with all sorts of negative consequences.

Instead, she exhaled through her nostrils and said, “My bracelet. Now.”

“I don’t have your junky bracelet,” said Magpie, which was about the most incriminating thing she could have said, given that she’d tried to steal the bracelet once already, and had practically drooled over the star when she’d seen it at the gala. They both knew Magpie didn’t think it was junky.

“I know Adrian gave it to you,” said Nova. “You were supposed to hand it over to Artifacts, but I just checked, and it’s not there.”

Magpie shrugged and changed positions, tightly crossing her arms. “Maybe Callum forgot to record it.”

Nova ground her teeth until her jaw started to ache.

Magpie held her glare, unflinching.

“Fine,” Nova finally said. “I guess I’ll check again.”

“You do that.” Magpie relaxed, just a bit, which is when Nova lunged for her.

She grabbed Magpie’s arm and spun her around, twisting the arm up behind her back. Magpie cried out—more in surprise than pain, though Nova wasn’t trying to be particularly gentle. “Let me go!”

Ignoring her struggles, Nova plunged her hand into the pocket Magpie had indicated earlier. Her fist closed around a couple of loose objects. She shoved Magpie away and opened her palm.

She could have danced with elation to see her bracelet again, undamaged, the star as bright as ever.

The second object in her palm was a little more unconventional. She would expect the little crook to carry around coins or swiped jewelry or even something useful, like lockpicking tools, but not …

“Is this a bullet?” said Nova, holding it up between pinched fingers. It was heavy for its size, its once-silver sheen dulled from time.

“Give it back!” Magpie yelled, her face flushed. She jumped for the bullet, but Nova easily swung it out of her reach.

“Why on earth do you have—”

Magpie spread her fingers. The bullet was torn from Nova’s grip and sent soaring into her palm. She wrapped it in a tight fist, clutching it to her chest. “None of your business!” she spat, face full of venom.

Nova snorted. “And you tried to call my bracelet junky? When you carry around a—”

“It’s not junk!” Magpie screeched. She was really worked up now, her face flushed red, her small hands clenched and shaking. “This bullet gave me my powers! Without it, I … I wouldn’t…” She released a frustrated growl, before repeating, “It’s none of your business!”

Nova cocked her head to the side. “A bullet gave you your powers?”

Before Magpie could respond, someone knocked at the door that had been left open. They both jumped to see the cleanup supervisor watching them with concern. “Everything okay in here?”

Nova glared at Magpie. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Finally, Nova huffed and began securing her bracelet to her wrist, using the same latch that Adrian had once drawn for her. “Yep,” she said, breezing past Magpie, who flinched away so their shoulders wouldn’t touch. “Everything is just as it’s supposed to be.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“SO … NIGHTMARE SNEAKED into the house and stole some comic books?” said Max, his expression more than a little skeptical.

“My Rebel Z comics,” Adrian clarified. “I drew them when I was about your age.”

“I don’t remember you drawing any comics.”

“I never showed them to you. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. And I only made three issues.”

Since Max hadn’t been able to venture out into the world, Adrian had made it a priority as the kid’s big brother to bring the world to him as much as possible. That responsibility included supplying Max with plenty of popular movies, books, and video games, along with Adrian’s personal favorite, comics. Max had pretty much learned to read on Adrian’s comics collection, but Adrian had never felt that Rebel Z was good enough to be shared with anyone.

“Why did you stop drawing them?”

Adrian picked up a stray soccer ball that had rolled against Ruby’s dresser. “I don’t know. I got to the part where the main character transformed himself into the badass superhero and … just started to lose interest. I hadn’t really thought past that in terms of the storyline, and it started to feel like actual work.” He chucked the ball against the wall, where it bounced back and landed squarely in a clothes hamper.