a plastic milk jug for the flowers and set them off in a corner. She put an arm around Nova and smooshed their heads together. “You’re our little Nightmare. We just aren’t the same without you.”
“Yeah, I’d hoped you might try to do something to get me out of there,” said Nova, “but who are all these people? What are we doing here?”
“These,” said Leroy, “are our new allies.” Unlike Nova, he seemed as relaxed as could be, his hands tucked into his pockets, a soft smile on his droopy lips.
Nova pointed at Narcissa. “The last time I saw her, she was trying to kill me.”
“I had time to reconsider some things,” Narcissa said. “After our conversation, it occurred to me that maybe our objectives aren’t so different after all.” Her tone suggested this was a painful admission for her to make. “I hate what the Detonator did to my family, to my grandfather and the library. And I did blame you for letting it happen. But then … well, you did kill the Detonator, and I figure that is worth something. Plus…” She hesitated and glanced at the elderly woman, who gave Narcissa an encouraging nod.
Nova realized with a start that she recognized the woman, though the last time she’d seen her, it had been aboard a tiny, cramped houseboat off the coastal highway. “Millie?”
“Hello again, Miss McLain,” Millie said, with a mirthful wink. As a psychometrist, Millie had the ability to see into the past of any object she touched, but it was her forgery skills that tended to be more highly valued by the villain gangs. She had, in fact, forged Nova’s documents for her application to the Renegades. In some ways, she had created Nova’s alter ego, giving her a new name, a new past, a new identity.
“Millie convinced me that the Anarchists could make good allies for us,” said Narcissa. “Given your presence in the Renegades, and the way you’ve managed to get so close to the Council, she thought it would be wise to give you another chance.”
“I was rather proud of that new identity I designed for you,” said Millie. “I’d hate to see it all go to waste when we’re so close to seeing their organization crumble.”
“So you pretended to be me,” said Nova, “so they would have to let me go.”
Narcissa nodded. “You’re welcome.”
It had been a risk—a huge risk—Nova knew. Narcissa had put herself in a lot of danger to go through with it.
But it had worked. Nova was free.
And now …
Now what?
Everyone was watching her, almost expectantly, but Nova was far too weary to figure out what they wanted. What they were waiting for.
She scanned the room. Her attention landed on a skinny, black-haired boy near the back. It took her a moment to place him, before she realized she’d seen him at the Renegade trials. The boy who could make folded origami creatures come to life.
The Renegades had rejected him then. What was he doing here now?
Her pulse skipped. They had rejected him.
The Rejects.
This was the group Narcissa had talked about, the one she’d been trying to steal the helmet for. These were the Rejects.
But … she still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
“All right,” Nova said, finishing her perusal of the gathered crowd and determining that she didn’t recognize anyone else. “So, who are the rest of you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Honey, giggling. “We are the villains of Gatlon City!”
“No, we are not villains,” said Narcissa firmly.
Honey snorted and leaned closer to Nova’s ear. “She hates it when I say that.”
“We are prodigies who have a different agenda than the Renegades,” said Narcissa as her cheeks reddened. “We are prodigies who desire to be who we are and what we are, to live the lives we want to live, without fear that the Renegades are going to show up at any minute and intimidate us and push us around, or even neutralize us with that new weapon of theirs, for no other reason than we don’t want to be one of them.”
“Or that our gangs were at war with them more than a decade ago,” added one of the boys in gold.
“Everyone here was either a supplier or a client of my grandfather’s,” said Narcissa. “When he died, he was holding a book—a ledger, actually. An account of every prodigy and gang he’d had business with over the years. I’ve spent the last few months searching for the people in that book in hopes of forming new