His muscles were shaking from the effort to stand, but he did stand. His hands and arms were so numb he would have doubted they were still attached if he couldn’t see them, and yet he still tucked them beneath Nova’s armpits, locking his elbows beneath her shoulders. His legs felt like sodden rags, but he took a step back, then another. And another. Gasping. Dazed. His head swimming. His eyesight blurred.
He collapsed into the antechamber, dropping Nova beside him. With one final, pathetic lurch of his foot, he kicked the quarantine door shut.
And he lay there, panting. Choking. Dying, he would have thought, except he’d never heard of Max’s ability actually killing someone. That’s how it felt, though. Like all the life was flooding out of his body.
His head lolled to the side, and he peered at Nova. Her body was splayed across the floor beside him, but her face looked almost peaceful.
Was she unconscious … or asleep?
It was an important distinction, but he didn’t know how to tell the difference.
His hands were still numb. There was no pain, only nothingness, which seemed worse.
Rolling onto his side, he wriggled closer to her. “Nova,” he said, patting her cheek. “Wake up.”
She was breathing, at least. He felt for a pulse at her throat and it was steady and strong, and when he looked at her face he could see her eyes twitching beneath her eyelids.
Was it possible she was dreaming?
He decided in that moment that he wouldn’t regret the decision to go in after her. Even if he never drew another picture, even if all the powers of the Sentinel were gone forever, he wouldn’t regret it, so long as she was okay.
Because it’s what any hero would have done.
“Nova?”
It seemed almost cruel to try to wake her, when she hadn’t slept for so very long, but something told him she would understand.
He placed a hand against her cheek again, which was how he realized that sensation was returning to his fingertips, because he could feel the softness of her skin, the promise of warmth beneath his palm.
He turned her head to face him. “Please wake up.”
And she did.
Not like a long-sleeping princess, who might have emerged from a leisurely nap with a refreshing stretch, a graceful arch of her back, eyelids flickering groggily from such a satisfying rest.
No. Nova McLain bolted upright and screamed.
Her glazed eyes fell on Adrian, and still shrieking, she scrambled to her feet and backed into a corner. Her breaths rattled, her head tossed from side to side, scanning the small antechamber.
“Where—what—” She gasped, her chest spasming with each labored breath.
“It’s okay,” said Adrian. Somehow, seeing Nova standing made him realize that strength had seeped back into his limbs, too, and he pulled himself to his feet. “You’re okay, Nova. You just … you fell asleep.”
“I did not,” she spat. But then her expression turned from brutal and violent to terrified, and for a moment, Adrian thought he could see her on the verge of crying. Then she turned away, hiding her face against the wall, and pressed her palms over her ears. “Not again. Make it stop.”
Adrian took a step closer. Her ragged breaths were slowing.
“It’s all right,” he said, hoping it was true. When he was close enough, he laid a hand on her back and, when she didn’t flinch, he placed the other on her arm and turned her to face him. “You’re at Renegade Headquarters,” he said. “You’re safe.”
She swallowed. Though her breaths were uneven, she had stopped shaking by the time she pulled her hands away from her ears. She still looked bewildered.
“Max,” she said. “Max fell.… He hurt himself.… I…” She hesitated, her voice going quiet and uncertain. “I went in to try to help him, but then…” She met Adrian’s eyes. “Did you say I fell asleep?”
“I think so.”
“Not passed out. Not fainted. Fell asleep. That’s what you said. Why did you say that?”
He glanced beyond the antechamber windows and spotted two members from the medical staff rushing from the elevator bank, both in civilian clothing rather than their usual scrubs.
Turning, he pulled one of the hazard suits down from a hook on the wall. “We call Max the Bandit, right?” he said, undoing the zipper down the full length of the suit. “It’s because he … he steals powers. When he gets close to a prodigy, they start to lose their abilities. Their powers just … fade away. The closer they get to Max, and the more time they spend in his presence, the more likely it is that…” He hesitated, watching the dawning realization on Nova’s face, coupled with mounting horror. “That the effects will be permanent.”
He held the hazard suit toward her and she took it dumbly, her gaze unfocused. “And I passed out,” she whispered. “I never pass out.”
Adrian took down the second suit and began preparing it too. When the two healers burst into the room a second later, he was already holding the suit out, ready for them to step into it.
“Security said—” started the first, a man Adrian had never learned the name of.
“I know,” Adrian said. “Max needs help. I think he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“What about you? Do either of you require medical attention?”
“No,” said Adrian. “We’re both experiencing effects from being in the quarantine, but … that’s it.” He glanced at Nova. “Right? You weren’t hurt otherwise?”
She shook her head, offering no resistance as the woman took the other suit from her and began stuffing her legs into the pants. “Stand back,” she said, as they each pulled on the helmets and gloves.
Adrian pulled Nova out of the antechamber. They stood on the sky bridge, watching as the two healers forged their way through Max’s city. The kid had sat down against the wall and his pallor was ghastly pale, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as the doctors started to unwrap and inspect his wound.
“What happened?” said Adrian.
It seemed to take Nova a long time to answer. “He was levitating.”
When nothing else followed, Adrian turned his focus on her. She was staring into the quarantine but he didn’t think she was really seeing Max or the doctors or even the glass city. Her eyes were unfocused and haunted.
“Nova?”
“He saw me watching him, and I think it startled him. He fell and…” She gulped. “I think one of the buildings went through his hand.”