He had never liked trial days. This was the fourth annual and it still gave him a sense of unease in his stomach. There was just something so ridiculous about it all—that the future of a prodigy could be decided based on a few questions and a thirty-second demonstration of their power. Could that really be all it took to decide whether or not someone was fit to be a hero? Capable of fighting for justice, defending the weak, protecting the city? He seriously doubted it, and what’s more, he suspected that if he’d been forced to enter through the trials, he might not have made it.
Adrian had become a Renegade practically by default. He was the son of Lady Indomitable, and since her death he’d been raised by Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden. No one would have dared object to him being given a uniform, and because of that, he was given plenty of opportunities to prove himself and his abilities. Bringing his artwork to life had turned out to be damned useful time and again.
But useful wasn’t always what mattered at the trials. Not to the spectators, at least. They wanted to be dazzled and bewildered and maybe even a little frightened. They wanted explosions and earthquakes, and Adrian’s power would have left the crowd unsatisfied.
Unless he’d drawn a hand grenade.
Actually, a hand grenade would have been kind of awesome.
Nevertheless, he hadn’t been made to compete for a place in the Renegades, so he would never know whether he would have been chosen or not.
These days, it didn’t really matter what anyone thought of his powers, not since he’d altered his own ability by giving himself the tattoos. He was no longer just Sketch, a Renegade and an artist.
He was the Sentinel, with more powers than had ever resided in one being before, at least as far as he knew. He was like no prodigy anyone had ever encountered. He had been transformed.
It felt strange to be wearing his Renegade uniform again after being in the Sentinel’s armored suit—the form-fitting fabric suddenly made him feel vulnerable. He kept sliding his finger between the shirt collar and his throat, trying to give himself more space to breathe.
“Happy trial day, woo-woo!”
Adrian turned to see Oscar ambling down the cinder-block corridor. He punched his cane a few times in the air before propping it against the floor again. “Bring on the newbies, for I am ready to pass judgment.”
Ruby wasn’t far behind him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “How’s it looking out there?” she asked, coming to stand beside Adrian. Her eyes widened. “Great skies, that’s a lot of people.” Her bloodstone dangled from her wrist, resting against her thigh as she surveyed the jam-packed arena. Then her attention moved down to the tables stationed around the field. There were close to forty of them, each draped with a red cloth. All patrol units were expected to attend the trials—at least, those who weren’t on active duty that night—where they would sit at the tables and watch hopeful prodigies try to impress them and ultimately decide their fate. “Are there really that many patrol teams these days?” Ruby added. “There weren’t half this many when I tried out. It doesn’t feel this crowded when we’re at headquarters.”
“Not often they get us all in one room together,” said Adrian. “I’m not sure how many are actively looking for new members, though.” His eyes traveled up to the platform that hung over the far end of the field. The Council members, including his dads, were already seated, chatting amicably and occasionally pausing to smile for a camera. Even Thunderbird was there. The healers had given her permission to come, so long as she didn’t do anything stupid, like try to fly. “I know the Council is hoping to bring on some new talent today, too, so we’ll see how many they pick out.”
Ruby shook her head, looking a little dazed by all the commotion. “Can you imagine trying out under these conditions? It’s so much pressure.”
“You both got picked from trials,” said Adrian. “It wasn’t a lot of pressure then?”
“Oh, it was,” said Ruby, with a nervous laugh. “I was terrified.”
“Not me.” Oscar grinned. “But I knew I’d get picked up. Who wouldn’t want this on their team?” He lifted a palm and a puff of bluish smoke morphed into a vicious dragon. It flew off into the bleachers to a bout of squeals from the audience. “Seriously? There are endless practical uses for that trick.”
“Seriously,” said Ruby, with a sage nod. “Endless.”
“That’s funny,” said Adrian. “I seem to recall you being challenged by … what? Nine different teams, all at once?”
“Yes!” said Oscar, beaming with the memory. “And did they come to regret that or what? That was a shining moment for me. Come to think of it, I may actually have peaked on that day. I think my life has been downhill ever since.”
Ruby laughed. “Do you remember the look on Mia Hagner’s face when you defeated Steamroller? That was the best.”
Oscar leaned his head against Ruby’s shoulder, his eyes sparkling. “Please go on. Tell me everything you remember, in complete, excruciating detail.”
Ruby rested her head against his. “I would, except you covered the whole field with fog so none of us actually got to see anything.”
Oscar’s squinted one eye. “Oh yeah. But trust me—it was a sound whupping.”
Adrian shook his head, watching as the stands filled with onlookers, some of whom had started doing the wave. He clearly remembered the trials of all three of his teammates, though he hadn’t been a team leader at the time. Danna had been accepted without question during her trial—being able to disperse into a swarm of butterflies made her quick, conveniently camouflaged, and a star when it came to hiding and sneaking into places where others couldn’t easily get to.