Page 50 of Renegades

Adrian set the cannon down and kept doodling as Blacklight went on, “Please welcome our first contestant of the evening, trying out for his third year in a row… Dan Reynolds, aka…The Crane!”

“I think I remember this guy,” said Ruby. “The origami one, right?”

It was indeed the origami one. A college-aged guy who could fold paper into intricately shaped creatures, and then make them move or flutter under his command. Unfortunately, the creatures weren’t sentient, which severely limited their usefulness.

The crowd booed and held up almost exclusively theZEROsides of their cards. Soon, Dan Reynolds was rejected for the third time.

“Poor guy,” said Ruby. “That’s rough.”

“He should go into street performance,” said Oscar. “Tourists would pay mad money for those little turtles.” He gestured at a handful of colorful paper turtles that Dan had made, currently making their way slowly, slowly across the field. He blew his kazoo in sympathy.

The next contestant, who called herself Babble, could speak any language instantaneously.

“Cool,” whispered Ruby. “I wish I could do that.”

Oscar leaned forward. “You bleed weaponized crystals.”

“Yeah, but speaking all languages, without having to study them? Think how useful that would be.”

None of the teams took Babble, but after a short discussion, the Council decided to bring her into the Renegade family anyway.

The crowd seemed neither excited nor disappointed. Perhaps they understood the practicality of the decision.

“Okay,” said Oscar, rubbing his hands together, “a good one’s coming up. I can feel it.” He paused, before adding, “By the way, are we hoping to find someone today?”

“No,” Ruby said quickly. “We’re a great team just as we are. Right, Sketch?”

Adrian blinked, his fingers stalling on the illustration of a small gong. “Absolutely,” he said. “We’re a great team just as we are. But… who knows? Maybe someone will surprise us.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“NAME?”

“Nova McLain.”

The man seated at the registration table entered something on his tablet. Without looking up again, he held out his hand.

Nova stared down at it. Was he asking for money? Did you have to pay to become a Renegade? She didn’t recall seeing anything about that. She didn’t have any money. Would they really exclude a prodigy just because—

The man glanced up. “Application?” he said slowly.

Nova flushed and cleared her throat. “Right,” she stammered, pulling the application from her bag and slapping it onto his open palm.

The corner of the man’s mouth drooped as he laid the papers down on the desk and smoothed out the wrinkles.

“Your alias will be announced when you’re called onto the field,” he said. “Are you sure you’re happy with…” He scanned the document. “‘Insomnia’? It can be hard to change after the fact.”

Nova tipped forward, scanning the application upside down,though she knew it all by heart. Was he trying to tell her sheshouldchange it? Was Insomnia a poor choice? She liked it, actually, but now she was having doubts. It wasn’tNightmare, but it wasn’t bad, either. Was it?

“Um… yes?”

The man, expression indifferent, entered the alias into the register.

“Right hand,” he said, setting down the pen and picking a cotton ball from a canister. He dipped it into a shallow bowl half filled with clear liquid, then looked again at Nova, who had not moved. “Right hand,” he said again.

She swallowed and gave him her hand. He rubbed the tip of each finger with the cotton ball and the distinct scent of rubbing alcohol wafted toward her. The cotton ball was cold and his hands were thick and clammy and Nova’s skin crawled the whole time. Though it only took a moment, she couldn’t help but let out a relieved breath when he finished.

The man tapped the top of a small machine. A screen showed a diagram of a hand, the precise spaces where she should place her fingertips indicated with blue ovals.

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