Nova got back to her feet, but another explosion rocked the ground, nearly knocking her over again. A window on the first floor had exploded outward, succumbing to the heat and pressure building up inside the library. Blinding orange flames roared inside, licking at the stone walls.
Nova shut her eyes, calculating the risks. Though it took only seconds to make the decision, it felt like an eternity.
Opening her eyes again, she reached into the compartment on her belt that held her handmade exothermic micro-flares. And, buried deep beneath them, her gloves.
Nightmare’s gloves.
She shoved her fingers into the black leather and strapped down the buckles, then pressed the switch that engaged the pressurized suction cups. Stomping forward, she leaped for the building, pressing her palms into the facade.
The suction held.
Nova started to climb. Press, stretch, release. Her toes grappling for purchase in the mortar. Her arms burning with exertion as she hauled herself higher and higher. Billows of smoke streamed up from the windows below, filling the air around her.
By the time she reached the window on the second story, her arms were ready to detach from her shoulders. But she made it inside, hauling herself in through the window and collapsing on the floor beside the child.
He stared down at her, lip trembling. “Help?” he said meekly.
She nodded. “Give me a second.”
One breath in. One breath out.
She sat up and staggered to her feet. This floor, too, was filling with smoke, though it wasn’t yet too thick to see. “Come on,” she said, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders. He followed her without resistance through a series of archive rooms, until they reached the main staircase.
Nova drew up short, staring down toward the lobby. What had been the main lobby was now a sea of smoke and flames. The floor itself was smoldering and, even as she stared, the floor beneath the scholar statue in the vestibule gave out from the weight, collapsing in on itself.
Nova backed away, nudging the kid toward the wall.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Won’t be going that way.”
She ushered him back the way they had come, to the open window she had climbed through. She stuck her head out and analyzed the fall. It wasn’t too bad … for her.
“Do you know how to tuck and roll?”
The kid whimpered. “Can’t you … can’t you fly?”
She stared at him. “If I could fly, why would I—” She lifted her hands, still cloaked by the gloves, then groaned. “Never mind. Listen. You’re going to climb onto my back and I’ll scale the wall back down. You’re going to have to trust me, okay?”
Though the kid’s face was full of fear, it was overshadowed by pure, inexplicable hope. “You’re a Renegade,” he said. “Of course I trust you.”
Nova’s gut clenched and every instinct wanted to argue that point. Don’t. Don’t trust them. They don’t deserve it.
But she bit back the reply and had started to crouch down so he could climb onto her back when she heard yelling.
Wrapping a hand around the kid’s wrist, Nova peered out the window again and spotted Ruby and Oscar running through the overgrown ivy below.
“Nova!” Oscar yelled, then flinched. “By which I mean, Insomnia! You need to get out of there!”
Relief pulsed through Nova’s veins. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled back, “I found the kid! Look!” Turning, she scooped the kid beneath his armpits and held him up in the window for them to see.
Ruby clasped a hand over her mouth. She and Oscar traded looks, but it was a short-lived silent discussion.
“Hold on,” said Ruby, unwinding the wire from her wrist. She stepped away from Oscar and started to twirl it like a lasso in the air. “Stand back!”
Nova jumped away from the window, pulling the kid with her. A second later, Ruby’s bloodstone flew over the sill. As soon as it jolted backward, the points of the gem peeled open, transforming it into a grappling hook that snagged tight to the windowsill.
“Cool,” the kid murmured.
“Have you ever done a zip line?” said Nova, peeling off her gloves and stuffing them back into her satchel.
“A what?”
“Nothing. Come on, it’s just like playing on the monkey bars. Hand over hand. If you fall, that guy with the cane will catch you, okay?”
The kid peered at the thin wire, then down at Oscar, his brow creased with uncertainty.
“He’s a Renegade too,” said Nova. “He can bench-press, like…” She considered. “I don’t know. A lot. More than you weigh, for sure.”