of the elevators into a reception space that was unchanged since she’d been gone—two desks, one messy, one stark. A clipboard with a form for tracking equipment rentals from the vault.
Trying to clear her thoughts, she sat down and searched the database for the Hollow Glass. According to the records, it had not been rented out to a Renegade in years, and was currently available in the vault.
She hoped it was a good sign.
Changing the parameters, she searched for star next. Then jewel, gem, and bracelet. Each term called up a substantial list of possibilities, but judging from the descriptions, none of them were her bracelet.
She wasn’t particularly surprised, but frustrated all the same.
After a moment’s consideration, she closed the artifacts database and instead pulled up the Renegade directory. Magpie was easy to find.
Margaret White. Alias: Magpie. Ability: Asset perception, subcategory: telekinesis.
“Asset perception,” Nova muttered. She guessed that was Renegade speak for “someone who can locate valuable things,” which seemed to be the gist of Magpie’s ability, as far as she could tell.
She jumped to the residence information and frowned.
Current residence: Unknown
Previous residence: Gatlon City Prodigy Children’s Home
She was familiar enough with the institution, which was supposed to be an orphanage, though had also become a dumping ground for kids abandoned by families who wanted nothing to do with their superpowered offspring.
An addendum at the bottom of her profile went on to list a series of petty crimes—mostly small thefts and pickpocketing—for which Magpie had repeatedly received no punishment, it seemed, beyond a stern talking-to.
None of it was at all helpful in getting Nova her bracelet back.
She was scowling at the screen, drumming her fingers against her cheek, when the elevator chimed and Callum arrived. Already smiling, because he was always smiling. And in the second that passed before he noticed her, Nova braced herself to see that smile fall. She knew he had suspected that she was Nightmare after he had tried to stop her from stealing the helmet. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he, like Danna, maintained that air of suspicion. And for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Callum’s opinion of her meant—well, a lot. Maybe because he was the sort of person who was always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. He saw the good in everyone, regardless of whether they deserved it.
She wanted him to see the good in her.
Spotting her, Callum froze, one foot still in the elevator.
Nova, too, went still.
Then—
“Insomnia! You’re back!” He bolted forward and swung himself around the end of the desk. Before Nova fully realized what was happening, he had pulled her out of the rolling chair and enveloped her in a strangling embrace, one that she might have thought was an attack if she hadn’t known Callum so well.
“I didn’t want to believe it,” he said, pulling away. “I mean, I did believe it, because—did you know you and Nightmare are almost exactly the same height?” He placed one hand about head level with Nova. “Uncanny, but not a reason to assume the worst of someone. I’m sorry. But in my defense”—he gave her a mischievous look—“a part of me thought it would actually be kind of cool to be working side by side with an Anarchist. I mean—the difference in perspective, right? What are the odds of that, really? Anyway. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve come to think of you as, like, my artifacts-obsessed kindred spirit.”
She laughed. Not only in relief that Callum didn’t despise her, but also at the idea that she was as obsessed over the objects in the vault as he was. She was relatively sure that no one could be as obsessed as he was. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m ready to get back to work and put all this behind me.”
“Great plan!” He clapped his hands. “Let’s return to our previously scheduled awesome lives.” He grabbed a clipboard from the desk. “It’s been slow around here, what with everyone focusing on rebuilding the lobby and the upcoming Agent N announcement. Do you want to take the desk for a bit, or would you rather handle the restocking? It’s not much … just seven or eight items, if I remember right.”
“I can restock. I don’t really feel like sitting behind a desk right now. I did plenty of sitting around at Cragmoor.”
“Aw, man, I bet that was awful,” said Callum, his expression going distant. The moment of solemnity was short-lived, and then he was grinning again. “But that place has some wicked history.