It seemed to take a moment for his question to register. Finally, Simon said, “They replaced our supply with some sort of decoy.”

“Yeah, I know, but there must be some left, somewhere?”

“I have some.”

He bristled at the sound of Genissa Clark’s haughty voice, though he did his best to hide his dislike as he faced her. She looked terrible, her skin practically translucent, with garish purple spots beneath her eyes. She was clutching her head, as if it would roll right off her shoulders if her hand wasn’t there to support it. He was surprised to see her at all. He’d half expected her to be dead, but she must have only been unconscious.

Nightmare’s doing?

“I took some with me when we went after Hawthorn,” she said, unholstering a gun from her hip. “I still have one dart left.”

Adrian wanted to appear grateful, but he was already trying to figure out what he would say when Genissa insisted she be allowed to join him on the risky mission he was considering.

To his surprise, she held the gun out to him, handle first.

“You can have it,” she said, almost angrily. “I’m done playing heroes and villains. For real this time. The Renegades aren’t worth this.”

He took the gun and watched as she tried to saunter away, though her movements were stiff and jerky. Adrian opened the projectile chamber and saw the lone dart inside, swirling with green liquid.

“Uh-oh,” said Oscar. “I sense some serious vigilante recklessness coming on.”

Adrian glared at him, wishing he hadn’t chosen that moment to remind his dads that they were still supposed to be upset with him.

“The only way we’re going to defeat Ace Anarchy is if we can either get that helmet back or neutralize him,” he said.

“To do that,” said Hugh, “we need to get into the cathedral. And like I said, with that wasteland—”

“They’ll see us coming,” said Adrian. “But I know another way in.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A SILENCE DESCENDED on the cathedral tower, almost as loud in Nova’s ears as the bells had been before. Her rebellion echoed among the bronze and timber, that single, simple proclamation.

No.

Ace, his arms still outstretched from his grand speech, slowly turned toward her. It felt different now to see him with the helmet on, his strength and vitality so quickly restored, after years of watching his body deteriorate day after day.

She’d always assumed the change would be for the better, but now, seeing the unfamiliar coldness in his gaze, she felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine.

“Little Nightmare?”

Nova stepped forward from the group. “I share your beliefs, Uncle, and your conviction. But I disagree with the path you would put us on to achieve our goals. I know that for years we’ve been talking about destroying the Renegades. I understand that you believe we can only establish a society that works if we first dismantle the society that operates under our enemies. But you’re wrong. We don’t need to fight. We don’t need to destroy. We need to leave.”

Ace’s expression tightened, but Nova plowed ahead.

She had to make them understand.

“We don’t have to stay in Gatlon. There’s nothing keeping us here. Let the Renegades have their city. We can go somewhere else. Establish our own community, under our own rules, our own principles.” Her nerves thrummed as she spoke, knowing that she did, actually, have something that might keep her here in Gatlon.

But Adrian was only a dream. Had only ever been a dream. Someday, he would know the truth. Someday, everything would fall apart.

Better that day was today.

“The Renegades are no longer relegated to Gatlon City,” said Phobia, his voice dry and annoyed, as if this should have been obvious. “Their influence has spread across the world. They have syndicates in nearly every country.”

“In the major metropolises, yes,” said Nova. “I’m not suggesting we trade one city for another. That would just lead to the same conflicts we’ve faced here. I’m saying we start fresh. Find a place that’s entirely our own.” She inspected the faces that were watching her with surprise—some tinted by curiosity, others a faint hint of suspicion. “We are prodigies, and with Ace Anarchy leading us…” She faced her uncle. “We can build the society we’ve dreamed of. Literally build it from the ground up. Look what you did here. In a matter of minutes you turned a pile of rubble into this.” She gestured at the bell tower around them. “We could walk out into any wilderness and transform it into the home we deserve.”

Ace watched her, calculating. But the fact that he hadn’t silenced her gave her courage.

“Look,” she said, more emphatically now as she moved to stand in the center of the room, on the old wooden floorboards beneath the central bells. They amplified her voice as she spoke. “We talk a lot about personal responsibility. Maybe it’s time we took responsibility for our role in what this city has become. I don’t like the way the Renegades are running things, but as Ace just reminded us, things weren’t great when we were in charge, either. We helped make a mess of this city, and despite all their failings, I … I’m convinced that the Renegades really are trying to make things better. We may not agree with their methods, but this is the way the world is now. If we don’t like it, then maybe instead of trying to tear it down, we should lead by example. Build something new, something better. If we form a community outside of the Renegades’ control, show how we are capable of governing ourselves for a change, then … maybe that’s how we change this world. And if it doesn’t change the world, then who cares? Maybe this isn’t our problem to solve. At least the war will be over.”

Honey spoke first, her voice ireful and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “This is that boy talking, isn’t it? I knew it. He’s brainwashed you.”

“I’m not brainwashed!” said Nova, heat flaring across her cheeks.

“You want to run away,” Honey snapped back. “You want to give up. Now, when we might actually have a chance of beating them!”

“I’m saying that maybe we don’t have to beat them. That’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s always us and them. Heroes or villains. Prodigies or civilians. The powerful and the powerless. I’m saying that I want a chance at a better life. For all of us, and anyone who wants to follow us. I want a life where we aren’t the villains anymore!” Her voice rose, with determination, but also with fear that they wouldn’t understand. “We can go anywhere. Be free anywhere. Why settle for this?”

Finally, a flicker of emotion in Ace’s eyes, still shadowed by the structure of the helmet.

It wasn’t understanding, though. If anything, he seemed hurt.

“Settle?” he said. “Settle, for Gatlon?” He moved toward her. “This is our city. Our home. I will not settle for anything less. I will not cower before the enemies who stole it from me.”

Nova’s shoulders sank. She shook her head. “We wouldn’t be—”

“Enough.”

She reared back, the harshness of his voice like a blow.

“If we are the villains to their heroes, so be it. We will give them reason enough to fear us.” He paced around the tower, somehow regal in his stolen double-breasted coat. “We will not run. We will not hide. We will stay and fight. And this time, we will win. This city will be ours!”

A roar of approval rang through the tower.

Nova shuddered. As the others pressed forward, she felt almost invisible. Her tongue had become gummy in her mouth.

She had been so confident that, once Ace was free, the others would agree with her. Leaving made sense. She had expected relief—that they could have their freedom without sacrificing more lives, without another battle.

Had she not been compelling enough? Had she not conveyed the power of her ideas?

How was it possible, with the world now open to them, that they would rather stay here and fight?

“We were not prepared when the Renegades surrounded us at the Battle for Gatlon ten years ago,” said Ace, approaching one of the open windows. “We will not make the same mistakes again.”

He lifted his hands, fingers outstretched toward the horizon. The wasteland beyond the cathedral stretched for acres in each direction, enclosed within a puny chain-link fence. A ring of torn-up pavement, the debris of crumbled buildings, crushed and overturned cars.

Those ruins began to tremble.

The others moved forward, gathering behind Ace.

Nova was still trying to form her thoughts into words, still thinking of how she could persuade Ace and the others to choose differently, when bits of debris began to rise anew from the wasteland. Plywood and unhinged doors. Metal sheeting and steel beams. The side torn from a bus, still papered with a faded advertisement. Bricks and stonework, appliances and roof shingles, broken glass, rebar and copper pipes, old street signs and a plastic slide from a child’s playground, ladders and porcelain bathtubs and traffic lights …

Countless bits of raw materials emerging from the wreckage. They began to fuse together at the edge of the wasteland. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.

Ace was building a wall.

Nova walked away from the others, to the opposite side of the tower. Here, too, the mess of materials was interlocking. Unlike the shimmering, near-transparent barricade that Adrian had used to protect himself at the arena, this wall was as thick and impenetrable as it was dark and unruly. It surrounded the cathedral in every direction, growing higher and higher, until it eclipsed even the great bell tower where they stood. Higher still, until it towered over the cathedral’s sharply pitched roof. Higher still, until the jumbled structure arced inward, knitting together overhead. It blocked out the city below. Blocked out the sky.

When Ace was finished, they were trapped beneath a dome of sharp edges and rust.

It felt like being in the tunnels again.

It felt like the opposite of freedom.