And it went so far beyond what she’d expected.
Sure, she knew their stance on crime and law enforcement and even on social programs. She knew the Council saw themselves as benevolent leaders attempting to solve all the problems of humanity, without any apparent grasp of how their involvement was only dooming society to helplessness and desperation.
But she had rarely stopped to think of the Renegades as a global organization, with their power continuing to grow with every prodigy who came here to be trained. Were cities around the world becoming as dependent on the rule and protection of prodigies as Gatlon was? How long before all of humanity gave up on personal freedom and responsibility? How long before they forgot what that felt like at all?
She had now seen the proof of their power with her own eyes. Not only in their technology and weapons development, but in sheer numbers as well. She knew that only a fraction of their workforce had been in the training halls when she’d toured them, and she could still feel the way her lungs hitched when she saw them.
So many prodigies, all dressed in those gray uniforms, all sporting those red Rs. Having never seen so many Renegades together at one time, it had been easy to underestimate them as a whole. But there she had witnessed a cacophony of flashes and explosions, natural elements wielded like weapons, prodigies defying gravity and physics, their bodies transforming and flying and brawling and training and on and on and on.
So much power enclosed in one space made her nerves vibrate.
So much.
The Renegades had so much. And what did the Anarchists have?
A bomb maker, a beekeeper, a poison distiller … and her.
It sounded like the start of a bad joke.
But she refused to be swayed from her cause. Seeing the inner workings of the Renegades had changed nothing, other than, for the first time in years, the Anarchists had an advantage. She would learn what secrets were being developed behind closed laboratory doors. She would learn how to undermine their systems and protocols, one way or another. She would learn who the Sentinel was and whatever the Council intended to use him for, and she would stop him before he ever had a chance.
The Sentinel.
That had been something. She was sure she had detected nervousness in Adrian when she’d brought up the soldier. She was sure he had been feigning ignorance, but she didn’t think it was just from her. She had gotten the impression that, whatever he knew, he was keeping it from Ruby and Oscar too.
Which made sense.
Surely, if any of them knew about the Council’s top-secret ventures, it would be him.
“It’s a start,” said Leroy, when she had finished accounting all she had seen and heard during her first day as a Renegade. “Have you determined your primary objectives going forward?”
“Research and development,” said Nova. “They’re very secretive there. I want to know what they’re working on, and what consequences it might have for us, and the city. Also, the Sentinel. I want proof he’s a Renegade tool, and I want to know who he is and what they plan to use him for. From there…” She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I want to know their weakest links. Maybe a direct attack on the Council was premature. Maybe there are other ways to bring the organization collapsing in on itself. Sneakier ways.”
Ingrid nodded. “If you want to blow up a building,” she said, “take out the support beams.”
Nova met her gaze. “Unfortunately, I won’t be blowing up anything for a few days, at least. The team that picked me at the trials has been assigned a specific mission. This will interest you, though.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow.
“Starting tomorrow night, we’re running surveillance on Cloven Cross Library.”
“What?” yelped Ingrid, tossing the framed photo into a corner. Nova scowled at where it crashed against the floorboards, feeling a peculiar sense of ownership—over the house and everything in it, even over the family that was, in some alternate universe, her family. “What did they find on Cronin?”
“Nothing,” said Nova. “Yet. But they somehow traced the gun that I used at the parade back to him.” She glanced from Ingrid to Leroy. “You did get it from him at some point, didn’t you?”
“Years ago,” said Leroy, rubbing his cheek so hard the scarred flesh wrinkled and bulged around his fingers. “He used to stock that particular model a lot. I should have realized they would draw a connection back to him. That was sloppy of me.”
“They don’t have any proof of his involvement yet,” Nova insisted. “They’re just suspicious. As long as the Librarian can refrain from buying or selling anything illegal for a while, they shouldn’t be able to pin anything on him.”