Or because she was Ace’s niece?
“You need to leave,” Nova said, pacing to the nearest window. “Can you take your grandfather through the mirror?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Narcissa snapped.
“Well then, you get out through the mirror while you can. Gene and I will go out through the window.” She looked down at the two-story drop. “I think.”
This side of the room looked out onto the street in front of the library, where the crowd of civilians had continued to grow.
A quick glance to the office building showed her that Ingrid was gone. The handcuffs lay on the sidewalk beneath the small smoldering crater where Ingrid had set off an explosion between the wall and barred window.
The other two windows opened toward the side alley and the theater. If they jumped, they could aim for the nearest dumpster, which would take the blow easier than concrete would. But Nova doubted Gene Cronin could handle that fall, even if she did instruct him in the basics of tuck and roll.
“He’s seventy-four years old!” cried Narcissa. “You really think he’s going to jump out a window?”
Nova sighed. Where were Winston and his hot-air balloon when she needed them?
A crash resounded behind her and Nova spun around, worried that the building was starting to collapse on them. But no—a window had broken. Shards of glass were flying through the air, scattering across the floor, following the trajectory of the figure that had just launched through the window.
Nova’s jaw dropped as she watched the figure pull off a perfect tuck and roll before bounding effortlessly back to his feet. He spun around, armored body braced for an attack and daylight glinting off the blank visor.
“Seriously?” Nova drawled. She’d known it was only a matter of time before more Renegades started to show up, but she hadn’t expected their secret warrior. Like those onlookers outside had said—a water elemental would have been nice.
But maybe it made sense. The Council knew about this mission, and had a vested interest in Adrian’s well-being. Maybe they’d sent the Sentinel to observe their progress. In which case, the question wasn’t, what was he doing here? But more, what had taken him so long?
The Sentinel’s head swiveled toward her and he said in a deeply concerned voice, “Is everyone all right?”
Nova spread her arms wide. “We’re trapped in burning building. What do you think?”
“I’ll get you to safety,” he said. “All of you. On one condition.” He turned his focus toward the Librarian, who had stopped tossing books out the window to gape at the newcomer. “I want to offer you a trade, Gene Cronin.”
Cronin’s mouth worked in silence. He held a leather-bound book to his chest, squeezing it like a life preserver. “I … who are you?”
“I am the Sentinel.”
It was said in that same righteous tone Nova remembered, and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
“Answer me quickly,” said the Sentinel. “We don’t have much time.”
“I … a trade? Yes. Yes, all right. I am a fair businessman. But … everything’s been destroyed. If you’re here for guns or explosives, it will have to wait until I can reestablish connection with my—”
“That doesn’t interest me,” said the Sentinel. “I’m here for information.”
Nova frowned, her suspicions growing. Outside, she heard someone calling her name and she turned to see Ruby and Oscar racing through the alley, each carrying one end of a long aluminum ladder. Relief swelled through her chest. She wondered where they had gotten it from, though at the moment it didn’t much matter.
“Information?” said Cronin. “Well, that I have in spades.”
“I’m looking for Nightmare.”
Her heart jolted and she spun back to face the Sentinel. He wasn’t facing her and she could see the visor only in profile. But Cronin—she could see him just fine, and the way his stunned eyes shifted toward her made her pulse thunder beneath her skin. She gave a quick, desperate shake of her head.
“Tell me where I can find her,” said the Sentinel, “and I’ll not only get you safely out of this building, but I’ll take you somewhere that will give you a significant head start when the Renegades come looking. You and your granddaughter can leave this city and never come back.”
Narcissa’s gaze swiveled from the Sentinel to Nova, her eyes wide. It was impossible to tell if the Sentinel meant what he was saying, or if the offer was merely a ploy to get the Librarian to talk. Perhaps the Sentinel would betray their deal as soon as he had the information he wanted. That’s what a villain would have done. But a Renegade? Who were all about honesty and integrity?