Supernova (Renegades, #3)

by Marissa Meyer

“A plan for what?” she asked. “You know,” said Oscar, insistent. “Telling Ruby how … how I feel about her. Nova was right. I’m awesome, and I am ready to sweep her off her feet.” “Oh, that.” Nova glanced at Adrian, who appeared equally relieved that Oscar’s plan was for something so mundane. “That’s great.” “Yeah, go for it, Oscar,” said Adrian. “Way to take the plunge.” “Thanks, man. So, I’m calling it…” Oscar lifted his hand, as if highlighting invisible words in the air. “Operation Crown Jewels.”

Without Ace Anarchy, that helmet is nothing but a costume accessory.” Nova wondered if he believed that, and how many of the Renegades would believe him. She didn’t know much about Ace’s helmet, but she had always assumed that it would amplify the powers of any prodigy, just as it had amplified Ace’s. Otherwise, why would the Renegades have been so determined to destroy it, once they believed that Ace was dead?

“I want to know how,” Genissa continued. “How is it that you manage to develop a substance that can sap our enemies of their powers, only for it to fall into an enemy’s hands before we’ve even made a public announcement about it?”

“It’s time we face the truth. Our leaders are incompetent. The Council is playing with things they don’t understand, things they have no real control over, and worst of all, they are risking our lives and our abilities in order to do it!”

“All I know,” she called over her shoulder, “is that any prodigy who willingly runs around with Agent N strapped to their belt is a damned idiot.”

“Are these…?” “Lemon-coconut-shortbread cookies with white chocolate centers,” Oscar said, his ears turning pink. “Yes. Yes, they are.” Ruby gawked at him. “That’s … my mom makes … these are my favorite!” “Yeah, I know.” Oscar cleared his throat awkwardly and held the tin toward Nova. “I, uh, called your mom for the recipe.”

“I think Nightmare has been posing as a Renegade. I think she’s a spy.”

Panic surging through her veins. Time was running out. She would be discovered any day, any minute.

Nova had been through those moments in her head a million times. She knew she should have left Max. She should have grabbed the helmet and run. But he was dying. She couldn’t have just left him. Even now, with all the rationality of hindsight plaguing her, she knew she’d made the right choice.

“Has anyone considered maybe that we don’t rescue Ace, and instead steal a nice yacht and go live out our days on a tropical island somewhere?” Phobia made a disgusted sound. Honey wiggled her fingers at him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure we can find one with a cemetery.”

BRING ME THE HELMET QB’S ROOM—BLACKMIRE 48 HOURS OR EVERYONE WILL KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE

But there was no way he could stay away completely. He just had to be careful about it. With the door shut and the blinds closed, he stepped to the side of the bed and peered down at his little brother. At least, he thought of Max as his brother, and he’d thought of him that way since the first day he’d met the kid. His dads had rescued Max as a baby, after his biological parents—members of the Roaches—had tried to throw him into a river. Max had probably already absorbed their powers by that point, and no doubt the rest of the gang would have threatened expulsion if they didn’t get rid of the little bandit before he did any more damage. To a lot of prodigy parents, Max would have been seen as a threat long before he was seen as a child worth loving. For months after, Max had lived with a civilian foster family who cared for him until Hugh and Simon could figure out what to do. From the start, Hugh had felt it was important for him to be kept close, not just because he was a prodigy who deserved to be surrounded by other prodigies, but also because to have him out on his own could make him either a target for the villains or a weapon that they could someday use against the Renegades. Which is when they’d started to consider a quarantine. Construction had begun almost as soon as the Battle for Gatlon was won, and some months later, Adrian had met his foundling baby brother on the other side of a glass wall. He was walking by then, toddling around the wide-open space, explor...

“Don’t worry, kid,” he whispered. “I’ll find her. I’ll make her pay for this.”

“Well … if I ever meet him, he’ll have my gratitude,” said Hugh, though there was a heaviness in his words. “Even if he does need to be stopped.” “Stopped, Captain?” said the doctor. “But … isn’t he working for you?” “Of course not. He’s a vigilante—he hasn’t followed our code from day one.” “Right. Yes. The media says that. I’d just assumed…” Dr. Sutner trailed off. “He’s not a Renegade. He’s not one of us.” Hugh’s voice took on an edge of resentment. “Maybe he’s done some good for us, but … it’s hard not to criticize his methods. He should have joined the organization, rather than going off on his own.

“We don’t know. There are a lot of things about him that we don’t know. I guess what we do know is that in the course of one night, he managed to capture Ace Anarchy and save my son’s life. In spite of everything … how dangerous he is, how misguided … I can’t help but hope that someday I might have a chance to thank him.”

“She’s short,” he repeated. “Like you.”

Adrian chuckled. “I’m not mad. You can have it.” He cocked his head, eyes still twinkling behind his glasses. “I realized it was missing after you left, but you didn’t say anything, so I thought maybe I shouldn’t, either. But the curiosity is killing me.” He took her hand and gently pushed up her sleeve, revealing not just the star, but the delicate bracelet that her father had made years ago, the last thing he had ever made. “It fits the setting perfectly. Like it was made for it.” Adrian’s face was awed. Nova was more awed by the rush of electricity at his touch. It was hardly the first time he’d touched her, so how did it still affect her this way? “Did you know it would fit the bracelet? I mean, was the bracelet part of the dream you had?” “No,” she said. “I had no idea it was going to…” She peered at the star, not sure how to explain what had happened. “I went back into the room to see it, after you fell asleep. I just wanted to touch it, to see if it would do anything. And it … flashed, sort of? And the next thing I knew, it was there, in my bracelet.” She grimaced apologetically. “I probably should have told you, it’s just … it was in your house. It felt a little bit like stealing.” “As far as I’m concerned, that room was made for you,” said Adrian. “You’re welcome to anything in it. The parrots, the wildflowers, the noise-canceling headphones…” She flushed, remembering all too well the muted sound of their heartbeats falling into sync as she drifted off to sleep fo...

“I’m glad you like it. It was my first time giving a girl jewelry, which is sort of a big deal, so…” She squinted one eye at him. “You didn’t give me jewelry. You gave me a jungle.”

“He’s going to be okay,” said Hugh.

“Nightmare didn’t try to kill me.”

“She tried to help me,” Max interrupted. His fingers curled into the blanket. “I asked her to take out the spear, and she didn’t want to at first because it’s not good to remove a weapon, right? But I begged her to, and she did, and when she realized the ice was helping it, she … she forced Frostbite to give her power to me. She dragged her closer so I could absorb all of it. She was trying to save me.”

Adrian smirked. “You know, you have more rebellion in you than anyone wants to give you credit for.” “Yeah…” Max’s mouth twitched, barely revealing the dimple in his right cheek. “I get it from my big brother.”

Danna’s face crumpled apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Adrian, but … it’s her.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Nova is Nightmare.”

It had to be Nova. Of course it had to.

Nova adored Max. Nightmare had tried to save him.

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

“You can give it to me,” said Magpie, in a tone that was a little too rushed, a little too insistent. Adrian tensed. Realizing that she’d moved uncomfortably close, Magpie took a hasty step back. “I mean, to take in to HQ. I’ll submit it with the rest of … you know, whatever we find here today. Get it cataloged and … whatever. I can take care of it for you.” Adrian’s fingers tightened. A subtle instinct warned him not to let the bracelet go. There was a meaning to it that he hadn’t uncovered yet. Also, there was something about Magpie’s expression. A hint of desperation that unnerved him. A whisper of intuition told him she was lying. Would she really submit it to HQ? Magpie’s hope darkened into a scowl and she held out her hand, palm up. “Come on, Sketch. This is my job, not yours.” He stared down at her hand and found that small argument surprisingly persuasive. She was a part of the cleanup crew. She was a Renegade. And he loathed the idea of carrying this star around for a moment longer. “I doubt you’ll find anything else to take in,” he said. “But I guess that doesn’t matter.” Smothering his reluctance, he dropped the bracelet into her palm. Her hand snatched it back immediately, as if she was afraid he’d change his mind. “Don’t lose it. That bracelet meant something to No—Nightmare. It could be important to our investigation.” Magpie’s frown didn’t budge. “Do you think I’m new at this?” She tucked the bracelet into a pouch on the leg of her uniform and marched into t...

It felt like someone had chopped off a limb, to be without the bracelet. And the star, too, though she’d had it for far less time. Still, the star felt like something she had made. Something she had dreamed into existence. With Adrian’s help, perhaps, but that didn’t change the intense feeling of ownership she had over it. The way it had secured itself, perfectly fit, to the empty prongs of the bracelet had seemed to confirm that it was hers. She hadn’t fully realized what a comfort its steady pulsing light had brought her these past weeks, while the rest of her life had been driven into further and further turmoil. Now they were gone. The bracelet. The star. She hated to think of them in the hands of the Renegades, being examined and inspected. Probably Callum would end up with it at some point. He would write up a description for the database. He and Snapshot would argue over how it should be classified—jewelry, historical artifact, mysterious extraterrestrial matter?

The next thing she knew, the indestructible box lay at her feet in pieces, and the helmet was free. It was a mystery that she had only had time to contemplate in the quietest, stillest moments of the past weeks—which had been few and far between. Now, trapped inside her own indestructible box, she found it comforting to have a mystery to contemplate instead of her own crimes and betrayals. A dream. A star. A painted mural brought to life. Threads of golden energy in the air. The helmet. Her father. The chromium spear. Dozens of artifacts that glowed faintly copper. They all seemed connected, but how? What did it mean?

She hadn’t realized it until that very moment, but it was all too clear now. She was living her worst nightmare.

“Actually,” said Genissa, smugly settling her hands on her hips, “when we first joined the Renegades, this risk didn’t exist. Criminals, fine. Villains, no problem. But Agent N exists because you created it. How could we possibly have chosen that?” “Besides,” said Trevor Dunn, whose flesh had once fluctuated between compounds of stone but now was covered in patches of pink, flaking skin, “I never signed a contract, signing away my life and powers in service of the Renegades. How about you all? You sign anything?” He gestured around the room, and was met with a lot of uncomfortable frowns. “Of course not,” said Genissa. “A contract would suggest that, if things don’t go well, we might actually be entitled to some sort of compensation for the trauma and suffering. But oh no. We’re expected to fight for the Renegades, to defend the people of this city, to constantly throw ourselves into dangerous situations all in the name of heroism. And we are heroes. Sworn to protect the weak and defend justice. But who is going to defend us? I wouldn’t count on it to be them.” She gestured at the Council. “As soon as they don’t need us, they toss us aside, and I’m not going to stand for it.” She lifted her arms. “And none of you should, either. The Renegades are nothing without us.

“We accept.” “No,” Adrian whispered, shaking his head. Ruby’s hand squeezed tighter around his arm. “They can’t let her…” He trailed off as, in the center of the lobby, Genissa Clark pivoted back to the Council with a wicked smirk. “Come again?” “A double execution will take place at the reveal,” said the Captain, his fists clenched as he spoke. “You, Frostbite, may see to the death of Nightmare, who has been our longtime enemy, and a persistent threat to the Renegades and the civilians we have sworn to protect. This execution will be enacted as punishment for her crimes against society and our own.” “Well,” said Genissa, flourishing a mocking bow at the Council, “thank you for being so understanding. We’ll give your offer due consideration and get back to you.”

“And why’s that, exactly?” said Adrian, feeling venom in his throat. “Do we not want the world to know this is actually a dictatorship?”

Adrian, I’m innocent.”

“Just drop it, Nova.” “But, Adrian—” “Drop it.” She pursed her lips together. Adrian lifted his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not here for your lies and excuses … I’m not even here for a confession. I just…” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I need answers. Please, Nova. If you ever … If any of it was real, then please … just tell me … who killed my mom?”

“What’s wrong?” Adrian jolted from his thoughts. Max was frowning at him. “You’re not telling me something,” he said. Not a question. Adrian swallowed, and it took him a few tries before he managed, “They’re rebuilding the quarantine.” Max went still.

“This is never going to work” came Max’s reply. “That’s the spirit.”

In his left hand was a bouquet of flowers—the most vivid sunshine-yellow daisies Nova had ever seen in her life. In his right hand was a tool belt similar to the one Nova had worn over her Renegade uniform.

“I’m sorry,” he said, with the full weight of a thousand apologies. “I should have believed you. I should have trusted you. I failed you when you needed me to be an advocate, and I know that officially makes me the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, and as much as I want to make it up to you, I will understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me. But if … if you can possibly forgive me, then I will do everything I can to make this up to you. I know I can’t change what you’ve been through, but … I still care for you, Nova. I never stopped caring for you, and I realize what an incredible jerk I was. I’m mortified when I think of the things that I said to you, the way I treated you in there … how I didn’t stand up for you, not once, even when you kept insisting you weren’t Nightmare. I should have…” He grimaced and shook his head. “I should have believed you. I’m so, so sorry.” He hesitated, his eyes shining with words still left unspoken.

Finally, he whispered, “Please say something.” Nova swallowed. “Where’s my bracelet?”

“It was always real for me, too,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be ready,” said Narcissa. “But look, I need to be honest with you. I think trying to stop the execution and rescue Ace Anarchy is a terrible idea and I know a lot of the Rejects think so, too. Maybe you can persuade some of them to join you in this crusade, but I won’t be one of them, and I’m not going to push anyone else into it, either.” “What are you talking about? You just said—!” Nova pointed at the blueprint. “Yeah, I’ll do this,” said Narcissa. “But not for you and not for Ace Anarchy. I’m doing it for all the prodigies who have been oppressed by the Renegades. This will be a huge blow to them and their dominance, and I’m all for that. This is what my grandfather would have wanted me to do. But I’m not going to the arena with you, and I don’t know how many of the others will go voluntarily, either. We’re doing this so we can live better lives, lives with peace and freedom. But people are going to die if you do this, and that’s not a risk we’re all willing to take. Not for Ace Anarchy, at least.” Nova crossed her arms. “So much for teamwork. Don’t you realize how much Ace Anarchy has done for us? For all of us?” “Yeah, I do realize what he did. But he also drove everyone into a war! And I know you care about him, but … I’m not sure I agree that we need him to take down the Renegades. We can do this without him. And if you and the Anarchists don’t make it back … then we’ll do it without you, too. You are handing us a pretty awesome weapon here.” Nova...

“He created Phobia,” she whispered, taking the child’s drawing from Narcissa and inspecting it with mounting dread. She was startled to find her vision misting as she tried to imagine what Adrian would feel if he knew the truth. “He created the monster that killed his mother.”

“Have you read these?” “I don’t have time.” “But there’s something—” “Later,” Nova snapped.

“When I stole the helmet, my bracelet reacted to it, almost like the two were magnetized. And the”—she stumbled on the word star, instead saying—“jewel had some sort of reaction, too. It helped me break into the chromium box that the helmet was being kept in. I feel like they’re connected somehow.”

“And that material is what, exactly?” Millie giggled. “The stuff of stars,” she whispered, almost mockingly, and Nova realized that she must have seen some of Nova’s conversation with Adrian as they discussed the impossible star in his jungle. She bristled. She knew it wasn’t a star. Stars were suns, billions of light-years away. This was a fancy marble. But what was she supposed to call it? “You seem skeptical,” said Millie. Cradling the bracelet in one hand, she bent down and picked up her wine with the other. “Tell me, Miss Artino. Are you familiar with the Monteith Theory of Prodigy Origin?” Nova’s skepticism grew. “Let me think. Is that the one that says all prodigies are descendants of ancient gods? Or that we came here aboard alien spaceships? Or, no, no, that’s the one that has something to do with radioactive sludge, right?” “Actually, Dr. Stephan Monteith was an astrophysicist who speculated that all prodigy abilities are the result of our physical systems reacting to a cocktail of biological chemicals and the stardust that lies dormant in our physical makeup.” Nova snorted. “Stardust. Right. I’ll go with the sludge, myself.” “Don’t be so quick to judge. I have traced the history of several prodigy artifacts back to the very star from which their mystical abilities seem to have originated.” Millie leaned forward. “Consider that every chemical in our world is formed from stars that long ago exploded. From the salt in our oceans to the cobalt in that teacup’s paint...

“What does this have to do with my bracelet? Are you telling me that this is the central core of that star that exploded or something?” “Of course not. I’m only pointing out that your father gathered and used that raw energy, which is possibly the most powerful substance in our galaxy. He made the helmet, among other things, and he made this magnificent gem as well.” She opened her hands to reveal Nova’s bracelet. Nova frowned. “No, no. My dad made the bracelet, but the gem was made by—” “Adrian Everhart? Oh, I saw.” Nova flushed self-consciously. “The mural was remarkable, but no. How do I explain this?” Millie rubbed her thumb over the star. “As one of his final acts while still alive, your father made this bracelet, yes?” “Right.” “Well, the setting was not left empty because he ran out of time to complete it. In fact, he had already created the gem that was intended to fill the setting some months before, and hid it where he did not think anyone would ever find it.” Leaning forward, Millie pressed a finger against Nova’s heart. “He hid it inside of you.”

“Then I thought I could follow it up with words, something like—Hey, Ruby … I really like you! Like, so much that even thinking of doing this makes me want to spew my breakfast tacos all over these seats.” “Inspired,” Danna muttered as the Renegades in the next row cast Oscar concerned looks. Oscar sighed. “It’s honest, at least. I did read somewhere that honesty is a keystone of a healthy relationship.”

Glowering, Oscar sank down into the plastic seat. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been finding the right time to make a dramatic proclamation? It’s like someone’s always getting arrested or un-arrested or we’re apprehending a criminal or taking down a villain.… When is a guy supposed to make his move in the midst of all of that?” “You could try not making a dramatic proclamation,” suggested Danna. “Just ask her out. It’s not that big of a deal.” Oscar groaned. “Not a big deal? I’m trying to tell the girl of my dreams that she’s, you know … the girl of my dreams! That’s the biggest deal of my life!” He shook his head, his brow creased with anxiety. “And I’m worried I’ll screw it up.”

“I am no longer a victim!”