scowl deepened before he crushed it again and threw it onto the stage. He was about to speak when a voice boomed throughout the arena.
“Ladies and gentlemen, prodigies and prisoners, superheroes and scientists…”
The voice did not seem to be coming from the overhead speakers. If anything, it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.
“We do apologize for the delay in today’s Renegade-sponsored programming,” the voice continued, with an edge of sarcasm. “While your honorable Council members sort through these technical difficulties, we hope you’ll enjoy this free entertainment, compliments of … the Crane.”
Adrian frowned at his team, who were all sharing the same baffled look.
“The Crane?” said Ruby. “Wasn’t he at the trials?”
“The origami guy?” said Oscar.
Adrian saw them then. Everyone saw them—hundreds, perhaps thousands, of paper cranes in the most beautiful array of pastel and jewel tones soaring into the arena. Adrian leaped to his feet. He wasn’t alone, as the stands all around him erupted with concern.
But only a little concern, Adrian noted.
They were just paper cranes.
“They’re coming in through the air vents,” said Danna. She was gripping the railing, her knuckles white.
“Could it be a diversion?” asked Ruby.
Adrian didn’t respond. He had no answers, but he had a feeling that Nightmare and the Anarchists had something to do with this.
He loosened his collar, making easier access to the zipper tattoo.
The cranes spread throughout the audience, hovering inches over their heads. One was caught by Fiona Lindala, or Peregrine, who was standing in the next row with her beloved bird of prey perched on her shoulder. Adrian watched as she unfolded the paper, the falcon’s head bobbing curiously. All around him, Renegades were doing the same. Snatching the paper birds from the air. Unfolding them to uncover their secrets.
Fiona cried out in surprise, drawing Adrian’s attention back to her. Her eyes were wide, though perhaps in more surprise than pain. She dropped the crane, but it left behind another creature.
A chubby, fuzzy, black-and-yellow bumblebee sitting on her palm.
Adrian had barely registered the sight before the peregrine shot forward and caught the bee in its beak.
“It stung me,” Fiona said to no one in particular, picking the stinger out of her palm.
Then there were more. More bees, almost adorable in their plumpness, leaving the protection of the paper cranes and buzzing toward the nearest Renegades.
“Queen Bee,” said Adrian, swatting one away. All around, he could hear disgruntled gasps, though the sounds were more of annoyance or surprise than anything else. It wasn’t fun to be stung by a bumblebee, but compared to daily life as a Renegade, it wasn’t exactly petrifying, either.
Danna’s face was contorted in disbelief. “Why bumblebees? Why not hornets or wasps or…?”
Adrian yelped in surprise and clapped a hand to the back of his neck. His fingers came away cradling the furry body of a bumblebee. He tossed it to the ground and reached back, rubbing where it had stung him.
Around them, people were crushing the bees in fists and under boots, tearing the beautiful paper cranes into shreds. Baffled. Confused.
Until a sickening wail began to rise up around them.
It started with Peregrine, who was gaping, horrified, into her companion’s intelligent eyes. “No,” she cried, stretching one finger to stroke the bird’s wing. But the bird ducked away. It walked down the length of her outstretched arm, staring at her like it wasn’t sure whether or not she was edible. “Pern, please, it’s me.”
The peregrine shifted its head away, its talons digging into her forearm. Then it spread its massive wings and leaped into the air, soaring over the stands. Fiona cried out, reaching, but she had no hope of catching it. Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t sense him anymore,” she stammered. “He doesn’t understand … what’s happening?” She looked around, searching nearby faces for answers. “My power. It’s gone.”
Realization struck Adrian like a gunshot. He scanned the audience, as all around, expressions morphed into panic. Renegades inspecting their outstretched hands as they felt their powers drain away. As scales sloughed off of baby-soft human skin, as sixth-sense antennas retracted beneath human hair. A girl made of smoldering black embers watched as her skin mutated into plain human flesh. A boy with horns on his back cried out as the horns snapped off and were left like discarded nail clippings on the ground. Sparks extinguished. Energy evaporated. Shadows dispersed.
The voice returned, echoing and amused. “If you’re one of the unlucky Renegades who have just received a tiny sting, we urge you to remain