Her words tasted bitter even on her own tongue, not because they were pessimistic, but because they were true.
Because of the Renegades, humanity was becoming weak and pathetic, as she had once been weak and pathetic. Waiting in the darkness of that closet, listening as her sister’s cries were silenced. So hopeful, so trustworthy, believing with all her heart that the Renegades would come.
But they were false idols. Liars and cheats.
Maybe if she hadn’t been waiting for the Renegades, she wouldn’t have hidden in that closet. Maybe she could have put her parents’ murderer to sleep sooner. Maybe she could have saved Evie.
Or maybe one of the neighbors would have heard the commotion and come to help, rather than assuming someone else would take care of it.
Maybe … just maybe.
“What do you propose?” said Adrian, slipping his free hand into his pocket as they meandered past a series of food vendors. “Should we open a hero-training course, open to non-prodigies? Teach them ethics and martial arts and … I don’t know. Bravery. Do you think you can teach someone to be brave?”
Nova felt the side of her mouth lift, just a little, in some relief that he hadn’t outright refuted her argument against heroes. “A hero-training course would be a start, but it would only go so far. As long as there are superheroes, there will be people who rely on them far too much. I think humanity would be better off if there were no … no prodigies at all.”
For a moment, she’d almost said Renegades, before remembering who she was speaking to. But on further inspection, she realized it was true. It wasn’t just Renegades who had caused so much trouble for humanity. It was the villains, too, though they’d only been reacting to centuries of hatred and discrimination.
How much better off would the world be if there were no prodigies at all?
“I agree that dependence might be a problem,” said Adrian, with some amusement, “but no prodigies at all? That might be taking it a bit far.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What about all the things the Council has built over the past nine years? All the things the Renegades do for this city, and the whole world, for that matter?”
“All things that non-prodigies would have built if we weren’t around. All things that people would be doing for themselves. If there was no Council, they would have reestablished their own government by now, or at least be trying to. Putting together their own patrols and law enforcement, writing their own laws, building their own infrastructure…”
He cast a sideways look at her. “The world would be falling apart if it wasn’t for us.”
“The world was fine before prodigies got involved with it. It would be fine again. As it is, it’s always going to be this way. Prodigies will always be at odds with one another, always fighting for power and dominance, and normal people will always suffer for it.”
Adrian cocked his head and she could see him contemplating her words for a long time. “You’re serious about this.”
“Yeah, I am. Not that it matters, but I do believe humanity would be better off without us. Without prodigies or villains or the Renegades. Society would sort itself out, just like it has a hundred times throughout history, but it would do it a lot faster, and with a lot less turmoil, if it wasn’t for our interference.”
Adrien held her gaze for a long time. “That’s bleak,” he finally said.
Nova shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
They were quiet as they passed by the roller coaster, listening to the creak of the tracks and the screeches of the passengers.
Switching the doll to his other arm, Adrian finally released an exaggerated breath. “Well. Now that we have that important philosophical discussion out of the way … what next?” He pointed. “Roller coaster? Tilt-a-whirl? Are you hungry?”
Nova smiled, the knot in her chest quickly unwinding. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but aren’t we supposed to be looking for somebody?”
“You’re absolutely right.” Adrian tapped a finger against his lips. “And I think we should look for her”—he pointed—“on the Ferris wheel.”
Nova followed his look to the colorful ride. “Yeah. That seems like a really likely hiding spot for a supervillain.”
“Maybe not, but it will give us a good view of the park, and we can plot out a strategy from there.”
It was an excuse, and not a particularly good one. Nova found her heart beginning to stutter as they made their way through the crowds. Because, for the first time since they’d arrived, she began to wonder why Ruby and Oscar and Danna hadn’t joined them. She began to wonder why Adrian had asked her to join him, and not one of his more experienced teammates.
She began to wonder whether this whole day wasn’t really about finding Nightmare at all.
But thinking that Adrian might have ulterior motives only led her thoughts down a path that made her palms sweat and her pulse flutter. She was picturing those small gondolas with her, Adrian, and the doll crammed into one them. She was imagining their hips pressed against each other. His shoulder tucked against hers.
Or would it be so tight that he would put his arm around her? Her skin tingled with the very thought of it.
How was it that something that would have been unthinkable weeks ago was now so easy to imagine?
“Nova?”
“Ferris wheel,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Sure. Okay.”
They had not gone far, though, when there was a chorus of high-pitched screams: “Renegade!”
Nova turned to see a dozen children rushing toward them out of a yellow-striped circus tent, over which hung a sign that read PARTY CENTRAL. The kids themselves were wearing an assortment of masks and capes like those Nova had seen at the parade.
To her surprise, they did not run toward Adrian, but her, and it took her a moment to remember that she was the one in uniform.
“It’s her! It’s the one from the trials!” screamed a girl, to which a boy beside her responded, “Yeah, the one who beat the Gargoyle!”