A clang reverberated across the rooftop, the sound conjuring the memory of metal armor and cold arms tightening protectively around her as they flew through the air.
Nova inhaled sharply.
“Are you okay?” said the Sentinel, sounding more gentle than he ever had before.
Nova swallowed. She didn’t respond and didn’t turn to look at him, even as his footsteps thumped closer. He stopped, not beside her, but beside the Librarian’s body.
Nova turned her head enough so she could glimpse him from the corner of her eye. He stood just outside the pool of dark blood. She inspected his profile, his suit, the arms that she had seen burn with flame and glow with energy, but that were now dull, metallic gray. There were signs of stress from the battle—singe marks on his side, dents on his back. But for the most part, he looked little worse for wear.
She had all but forgotten about the gun, which she had dropped in her rush to stop Narcissa. Now she found it beside her knee, the handle cool in her palm as she picked it up.
“Would you really have let him go?” she said, sitting back on her heels. “If he’d given you the information you wanted?”
The Sentinel said nothing for a long time, before finally admitting, “I hadn’t decided yet.”
“You mean the offer wasn’t sanctioned by the Council?”
His head turned toward her. Instead of answering her question, though, he asked again, “Are you okay? Do you need … help? Getting down?”
“I’m fine,” said Nova, running her thumb down the gun’s handle. “What do you want with Nightmare, anyway?”
The Sentinel cocked his head and she could imagine him watching her. She wished she knew what he looked like. The blank canvas of his face had become deeply unnerving.
“She and I have unfinished business.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And the Council, too, no doubt?”
“They don’t dictate everything I do,” he said, a little stubbornly. “Nightmare is a threat to all Renegades, but … I have my own reasons for wanting to find her.”
“Okay, Mr. Alter Ego,” said Nova, attempting to infuse some lightness into her voice, “my curiosity is piqued. Who are you, really?”
He turned to face her more fully and she was sure, at first, that he would tell her. He certainly seemed to consider her question long enough.
Finally, he said, “I’m not your enemy.”
Her cheek twitched. “Prove it. Lots of people think you’re an impostor, trying to discredit the Renegades. If that’s not the case, then take off the helmet and show yourself. No secrets between allies, right?”
Again he stood unmoving for a long, still moment, before he shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Insomnia!”
Nova swallowed. Lifting her head, she could barely see Ruby and Oscar on the street below, staring up to the top of the theater with worry scrawled on both their features. Spotting her, Oscar pointed, then cried out, “Are you okay?”
Nova didn’t respond. She was looking past them, around them, scanning the ground below in all directions …
Ruby and Oscar were alone. Adrian was not with them.
Her gaze darted to the library, but the fire had gotten so bright and the air so hazy with smoke she almost couldn’t stand to look at it.
“Where’s Adrian?” she yelled down to them, and watched as both of their faces fell.
Nova shuddered. Adrian wouldn’t have just disappeared. He must have been trapped inside. Dread clawed at her, even as she told herself it was a good thing. One less Renegade in the world. One less superhero …
But she was seeing his notebook full of stunning, heartfelt drawings. She was hearing the way he laughed when she told him about juggling and bird-watching. She was seeing Max’s face light up as Adrian drew the tiny glass figurine for his tiny glass city.
She was not convinced that his death—and such a horrible, horrible death—could possibly be a good thing.
“It’s all right,” said the Sentinel gently. “Here. Let me take you down to them.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She glanced back and frowned, wondering if she was imagining the way his shoulders had curled inward, giving the strangest impression of … of shyness.
“I have to go soon,” said the Sentinel. “But it would only take a second for me to—”
“No,” said Nova, pushing herself up to standing, though her legs still felt weak. “You haven’t answered any of my questions, Sentinel. Who are you? What do you want with Nightmare?” Her voice rose, scratched raw from the hazy air. “Are you working for the Council or not?”