a first step, a way to reset and gain control. It’s not going to work long-term.”
“I know,” she said. “There’s no way I’ll be able to resist.”
“I’m not just talking about that,” I said. “I’m talking about something bigger.”
She stopped on the bridge and looked back at me. We swung gently above the waters below, some four stories down in this case. I wasn’t worried about the drop—I was still wearing the spyril.
“Bigger?” she asked.
“We can’t fight the Epics.”
“But—”
“Not alone,” I continued. “I’ve accepted it. The Reckoners only survive because of Prof and because of things like the spyril. I spent years convincing myself that regular people could fight, and I still think we can. But we need the same weapons our enemies have.”
Megan inspected me in the darkness. The only light came from spraypaint on the ropes of the bridge. Finally, she stepped forward and picked at something around my neck. Abraham’s necklace, which I wore under the wetsuit. She pulled it out.
“I thought you said these people were idiots.”
“I said they were idealistic,” I clarified. “And they are. Heroes aren’t magically going to show up and save us. But maybe, with work, we can figure out how to … um … recruit a few of them.”
“Did I tell you why I came to Babilar?” she asked, still holding the necklace by its small S pendant.
I shook my head.
“Word is,” Megan said, “that Regalia can enhance an Epic’s powers. Make them stronger, more versatile.”
I nodded slowly. “So what she said to me the other day …”
“She didn’t just make it up then. This is something she’s been claiming, in certain circles, for at least a year now.”
“Which explains why so many High Epics have come to Babilar,” I said. “Mitosis, Sourcefield, Obliteration. She promised to increase their power in exchange for doing as she demanded.”
“And if there’s one thing most Epics want,” Megan agreed, “it’s more power. No matter how strong they already are.”
I shifted, feeling the bridge rock beneath us. “So you …”
“I came,” Megan said softly, “because I figured if she really can increase an Epic’s powers, she might be able to take mine away. Make me normal again.”
Silence hung between us like a dead wombat on a string.
“Megan …”
“A foolish dream,” she said, dropping the necklace and turning from me. “As foolish as yours. You’re as idealistic as Abraham, David.” She continued across the bridge, leaving me.
I hurried to catch up. “Maybe,” I said, taking her by the arm as we reached the other side. “But maybe not. Let’s work together, Megan. You and me. Maybe what you need is a pressure valve of some sort. You use your powers a little here and there, in a controlled situation, to scratch the itch. That lets you practice restraining the emotions. Or maybe there’s another trick, one we can discover together.”
She moved to pull away, but I held on tight.
“Megan,” I said, stepping around her and meeting her eyes. “Let’s at least try.”
“I …” She took a deep breath. “Sparks, you’re hard to ignore.”
I smiled.
Finally, she turned and pulled me toward an abandoned tent, really just a cloth propped up on one side by a pole mounted in the rooftop. “If we’re going to do this, you have to understand,” Megan said softly, “that my powers are not what they seem.”
“The illusions?”
“Not exactly.”
She squatted down in the shadows of the abandoned tent, and I joined her, uncertain what we were hiding from. Likely she just wanted to be sheltered as she talked, not so out in the open. But there was something very hesitant about her.
“I …” She bit her lip. “I’m not an illusion Epic.”
I frowned but didn’t object.
“You haven’t figured it out?” Megan asked. “That time back in Newcago in the elevator shaft, when you and I were close to being spotted by guards. They shined a flashlight right on us.”
“Yeah. You made an illusion of darkness to hide us.”
“And did you see any darkness?”
“Well, no.” I frowned. “Does this have to do with the dowser?” It was the device—a real piece of technology, so far as I knew—that scanned a person and determined if they were an Epic or not. The Reckoners tested everyone in their team with some regularity. “I never did figure out how you fooled it. You could have created an illusion on the screen to cover the real result, but …”
“The dowser records its results,” Megan finished for me.
“Yeah. If Tia or Prof ever looked back at its logs, they’d