Archenemies

by Marissa Meyer

  And though Adrian couldn’t be sure, it almost appeared as if the large poster was … crooked.

  He stepped over the tracks, the flashlight trailing down the next tunnel. He could see no more Renegade signs that way. Perhaps this was the last platform that the Anarchists had claimed for themselves.

  Approaching the poster, he saw that it definitely was askew. Not drastically, but enough to make his fingers twitch to straighten it. Probably the hardware that had held it up all these years had started to pull free of the wall. And yet—there was something about it that made the hair prickle on the back of Adrian’s neck. A bit of dirt smudged on the corner, almost like a handprint. The way the tiled wall was chipped around its frame.

  Adrian was about to reach for the poster when a shadow loomed in the corner of his eye.

  Heart lurching, Adrian spun and sent the flashlight beam into the tunnel.

  A rat squeaked angrily and scurried out from behind an empty milk jug before skittering off down the tracks.

  Cold sweat dampened his forehead as Adrian flashed the light all around the tunnel, across the tracks, over the arched ceilings. Whatever had startled him had disappeared, or—more likely, he had to admit—had been nothing more than his own imagination.

  Still, the feeling that he wasn’t alone, that something was watching him from the shadows, was impossible to shake.

  His heart rate was just beginning to slow when a musical ditty erupted from his wristband, making him jump all over again. He cursed and hurried to shut it off. Scowling, he peered at the message. There was no way he was getting reception down here, and he’d already turned off notifications from the call center …

  Oh. Right.

  Not a message, not an alert. It was the reminder he’d set for himself to be at City Park in an hour, or risk Ruby’s wrath when he was late for her brothers’ first competition.

  He did a quick calculation of how long it would take to get there, cursed again, and started to run.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE PARK WAS as crowded as Adrian had ever seen it, overrun with children, almost all of whom were bedecked in sparkling spandex, neon tights, and bedazzled capes. There were small booths set up where vendors were selling miniature Renegade uniforms or costumes that mimicked the nostalgic superhero costumes of the past. Others were selling custom T-shirts, handmade jewelry, and even superhero costumes for cats and dogs. Beyond the shops, there was a long line of food trucks, as promised, and a courtyard of inflatable bounce houses, and even a temporary stage where a music band was setting up their speakers and microphones.

  But the main draw of the day, it was immediately clear, was on the sports fields that were snuggled between native flower gardens and duck ponds and running paths. There were more than a dozen types of competitions kids could compete in, separated by age group and skill level, in hopes of winning a medal and being dubbed an (unofficial) superhero sidekick. There were track races and gymnastics courts, archery and long jumps, wrestling and martial arts. A large tent near the playground even held intellectual-focused contests, such as speed-reading tests and a spelling bee. Adrian wasn’t entirely sure how being an excellent speller would translate to defending justice, but he liked that the Sidekick Olympics were so inclusive. Every kid deserved to feel like they could be a superhero, even if only for a day.

  He was worried he was already late by the time he arrived at the bleachers that surrounded the main event—an elaborate obstacle course that took up an entire soccer field. He found Ruby, Danna, and Nova near the front.

  Ruby waved at him excitedly, indicating a seat they’d saved for him. “Come on, come on,” she said. “The twins are in this next round.”

  “Where’s Oscar?” he asked, sliding in beside Nova. Opposite to Ruby’s enthusiasm, Nova looked vaguely bewildered as she observed the crowds of costumed children.

  “Where do you think?” said Danna, cupping her chin in her hands.

  Adrian didn’t respond. Food, obviously.

  “There they are!” Ruby jumped to her feet and started screaming her brothers’ names, but either they couldn’t hear her or they were too embarrassed to acknowledge their older sister. They were huddled with a group of kids, all around eleven or twelve years old, but their identical heads of light blond hair were easy to spot in the mix. Adrian had only met the twins once before, at a Renegade family picnic last summer, but he remembered how much their faces had been just like younger versions of Ruby’s, freckles and all. He wondered if Ruby had had the same thick blond hair at their age, too, before she started dyeing it in layers of black and white.

  “They look great,” said Adrian, admiring their gray-and-red suits.

  “Thanks, my mom and grandma made their costumes. Jade hasn’t wanted to take it off all week. I’ll be glad when today is over so maybe he’ll actually let us wash it.”

  “Make way, coming through!” Oscar shuffled down the bench, one hand clutching a paper bag, the bottom of which was already soaked through with grease. Adrian and Nova both turned their legs toward each other to make room for him to pass, their knees knocking together. “Sorry,” Adrian muttered, making eye contact with her for the first time since he’d arrived.

  She smiled, the look oddly flustered. “Have you been to this before?”

  “No, but I’ve heard a lot about it. Kind of fun, right?”

  Nova pursed her lips. It took her a long moment to answer, and when she finally did, she sounded almost sad. “People sure do like their superheroes.”

  “I brought enough to share,” said Oscar, who had plopped down beside Ruby and was handing out cardboard cartons overflowing with salty fries. “But pace yourselves, okay? There are also gyros and chicken wings out there, and I’ve got my eye on a strawberry shortcake cart for dessert.” Propping his cane between his legs, he peered out at the field. “Which ones are—oh, never mind, I see them.”

  Ruby frowned at him. “You’ve never met my brothers.”

  “I know, but they look just like you.” He pointed, then grabbed a fry from Ruby’s carton and chomped it in half. “Except, you know, the hair. How long before they start?”

  “Any minute now,” said Ruby, eyeing Oscar speculatively. “Sterling’s going to be great on this one, but Jade’s more excited about archery later.”

  On the field, the kids were told to line up at the start of the course. A referee was giving them instructions. Ruby started to bounce her legs so quickly the whole bench was trembling. Without warning, she cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed, “Come on, Sterling! You’ve got this!”

  Danna flinched, covering an ear.

  A horn blared and the race started. The contestants bounded forward and started scaling a faux brick wall. Ruby leaped to her feet, screaming at the top of her lungs. Oscar joined her, hollering just as loud. One of the kids scampered to the top shockingly fast—a dark-skinned girl with a gold capelet on her shoulders, reminiscent of Lady Indomitable’s costume.

  Adrian’s throat tightened at the sight of her. She would have been too young to remember his mom when she was still alive, and it warmed him to think that her legacy was living on. That she could still serve as an inspiration to today’s kids.

  He wanted that too. To be a role model. Like his mom and his dads and all the superheroes who had come before him.

  But as the girl pulled into the lead, swinging across a series of monkey bars with Sterling trailing behind, he heard Oscar lean over and whisper to Ruby, “Do you want me to blind her with a smoke arrow?” He pointed his finger toward the course as a curl of smoke erupted from its tip. “Just a small one. No one would have to know.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Ruby hissed, pushing his hand down. “Sterling will catch up on the barrel roll, you’ll see.” Still squeezing Oscar’s wrist, she set her carton of fries on the bench so she could lift her other fist in the air, cheering wildly.

  Oscar looked down once at her hand, then over at Adrian with a giddy yet panicked expression.
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  Adrian flashed him a thumbs-up that he hoped was encouraging.

  Leaning back on the bench, Adrian devoured a handful of fries. He offered his carton to Nova, but she shook her head.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing that her expression was as serious now as it had been when he arrived.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered distractedly.

  “Nova?”

  She glanced at him, then back at the field. “I just … have a lot on my mind.”

  Adrian’s mouth twitched. He didn’t want to say I know the feeling, but … well, he totally knew the feeling. “You had your first day in the artifacts department, right? How’d it go?”

  Her posture stiffened and she seemed to be debating something, watching as Ruby’s brothers bounded down a long trampoline, then scurried through a maze of transparent pipes. All obstacles that were incredibly relevant to real-life heroics, Adrian noted.

  Nova leaned toward him, her voice lowering. “Did you know that Ace Anarchy’s helmet is down there?”

  Adrian turned to her, startled. “Um … actually, I think it’s on display up in the Council offices.”

  Nova shot him a clearly marked you’re-not-fooling-anyone glare.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Oooh. You mean the real helmet.”

  “Yes, the real one,” she whispered emphatically. “How many people know about it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not a secret, exactly, but it’s not something that gets talked about much either. It’s simpler to let people believe the one upstairs is the real thing.”

  “And that it was destroyed,” said Nova. “Except it wasn’t destroyed.”

  “Not for lack of trying.” He cocked his head to one side. “You seem concerned.”

  “Of course I’m concerned. It’s dangerous!” Her voice dropped again and Adrian found himself tucking his head close to hers to listen, so close that a lock of her hair brushed against his shoulder. “And it’s just sitting there, completely unprotected. Do you know who they have running that department? A seventy-year-old woman with minor psychometry, and this guy who’s not even a prodigy. And they are supposed to provide security for one of the most powerful objects of all time? Anyone could just walk in there and take it.”

  Adrian held up both hands to pacify her. “It’s not as bad as that.”

  Nova folded her arms. “Why? Because of a big metal cube?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, exactly. You know who made that cube, right?”

  “Yes, and while Captain Chromium himself might be invincible, I don’t think we should rely on his handiwork alone to protect the helmet. In fact, I’d like to talk to your dad about it. If he could clarify any potential weaknesses, then I could work on setting up a more comprehensive security system.”

  “It’s indestructible,” said Adrian. “It doesn’t have any weaknesses.”

  “Indestructible,” Nova repeated, her gaze searing into him. “But not unopenable?”

  Adrian hesitated. Could it be…?

  No. He shook his head. “Unopenable to anyone who would ever want to use it for evil again.”

  Something seemed to kindle in Nova’s expression and she scooted closer to him, until their sides were pressed together from shoulder to knee. He gulped.

  “So it can be opened,” she said. “By who?”

  “Uh—that’s not what I—no one can open it. I mean, I’m sure my dad could, if he ever wanted to. But he wouldn’t. Why would he?”

  She licked her lips, drawing his gaze toward them. In that same moment, the crowd erupted in a cheer and Adrian lurched instinctively to his feet. The carton of fries toppled from his lap, spilling across his and Nova’s shoes. “Ah—I’m sorry!”

  Ignoring the fries, Nova stood, too, and then her hand was on his elbow. Adrian’s heart palpitated in his chest. On Nova’s other side, he heard Ruby screaming—Go! Go! Go!

  His eyes darted toward the field where he saw that both Sterling and the girl in the Lady Indomitable cape were more than halfway through the course, neck and neck as they swung across a series of knotted ropes.

  “Adrian.”

  He looked back at Nova, his cheeks burning.

  “Are you sure he didn’t leave it vulnerable somehow?” she prodded, and the intensity of her expression made him realize just how important this was to her. Her earnestness surprised him. He never would have thought to doubt the security of the helmet. If Captain Chromium said it was taken care of, then it was taken care of. But clearly, Nova didn’t share that confidence. “I need to make sure there isn’t some unknown vulnerability. Now that I’m working in the artifacts department, it’s my job to keep the objects there safe, you know? And that helmet … we can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”

  “There’s never going to be another Ace Anarchy, Nova. You’re overthinking this.”

  “You don’t know that. I just need to be sure. Maybe Captain Chromium installed some sort of backup—a way to get to the helmet, in case it was ever needed again and he wasn’t able to open the box himself. A … key, of sorts. Or is there some other way that someone could open it? Even hypothetically?”

  Adrian heaved a long breath and tried to take the question seriously. “I don’t know. My dad could get into it easily enough by manipulating the chromium. And maybe…” He dropped one hand to his pocket and pulled out his marker. He turned it over in his fingers, considering. “Maybe I could?”

  “You?” said Nova, and he tried not to be offended at her tone of disbelief.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to draw anything using my dad’s chromium before. But I don’t see why it would be any different from drawing on glass or concrete or Ruby’s gems.”

  Her grip tightened on his arm. “What would you draw to get into the box?”

  His mouth quirked to one side. “A door?”

  Nova’s brow tensed, and Adrian’s teasing smile faded. “But it’s still safe, Nova. I would never open that box, and I don’t even know for sure it would work. Besides, there are no other prodigies like me—at least, not that I’ve ever heard of.”

  Nova hummed thoughtfully and, to his disappointment, pulled her hands away. “You might be right, but there are new prodigies every day. We don’t know what sort of powers will be uncovered next. Who knows? Maybe your dad’s chromium won’t always be invincible.”

  Ruby, Oscar, and Danna let out simultaneous groans. Adrian looked up. Sterling had reached the final obstacle—a large, above-ground swimming pool full of nets, buoys, and robotic sharks. Though Sterling was a fast swimmer, the girl was quickly pulling ahead.

  “If you think of anything else,” said Nova, “any possible weakness that box might have … will you let me know?”

  “I will,” he said, smiling. “I promise.”

  The girl climbed out of the pool and darted across the finish line. Sterling followed seconds later.

  Jade, trailing a ways behind, came in seventh.

  “Second place,” said Ruby. “That’s not bad.”

  “Are you kidding?” said Oscar. “Any Renegade worth their alter ego would be proud to have that kid as a sidekick. Jade too. In fact…” He rubbed his chin. “I could use a couple sidekicks. Think your brothers would be interested?”

  “What, to make food runs for you?” said Ruby.

  “Among other important sidekicky things. It would really help clear my schedule for more damsel-saving work.”

  Ruby snorted. “I helped save that barista too.”

  “Yeah, but she was clearly thanking me, and I plan on milking it forever and ever. It’s like a constant reminder of the risks and rewards that come with true heroism.”

  “The struggle is real,” said Danna, leaning across Ruby to steal one of Oscar’s fries.

  The bleachers began to clear as the obstacle course was reset for the next group.

  “We have an hour before Jade’s wrestling match, and then they both have archery,” said Ruby, checking the schedule on a flyer. She lifted her head,
beaming. “Anyone want to go get matching face paint?”

  “You read my mind,” said Oscar.

  “Uh, you two go ahead,” said Adrian, recalling Oscar’s face when Ruby had grabbed his arm. “There was something I wanted to show Nova and Danna … uh … over there.” He pointed toward a cluster of vendor booths by the lake. “But we’ll meet you at the wrestling match, okay?”

  Danna cocked her head at him, suspicious, but no one argued as Adrian headed toward the bottom of the bleachers and melded into the bustling crowd. When he glanced back, Nova and Danna were beside him, but Oscar and Ruby were nowhere to be seen.

  “That was just a ploy to give them alone time, right?” said Danna.

  “Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Too obvious?”

  “Subtlety doesn’t seem to be making much progress, so…” Danna shrugged.

  “Hey,” said Adrian, snapping his fingers, “how was your medical exam?”

  Danna beamed. “Cleared for duty. I’ll file the paperwork for reinstatement on Monday.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” said Adrian. “And you feel good?”

  “Great. The scratches didn’t even leave scars.” She cast a sideways glance at Nova, her tone taking on a new edge. “No random fainting spells either, so … I guess I’m good as new.”

  Nova seemed to pale, but covered it quickly with a look of concern. “That’s great, Danna.”

  “Fainting spells?” said Adrian.

  Danna shrugged at him. “Remember when Nova was in the med-wing, after the quarantine fiasco? I went to visit her and … weirdest thing, but I actually fainted. I mean … I never faint.”

  “Classic case of overexertion,” said Nova. “You were still recovering from your burns, remember?”

  Danna stared at her for what felt like a moment too long, before she smiled. “Right. Classic.” It seemed as if she wanted to say more, but she thought better of it. “Anyway, I saw a booth back there I wanted to check out. See you at the wrestling match, okay?”

  She disintegrated into her butterfly swarm. A gasp arose from the people around them, children squealing and pointing as the butterflies spun into the air and whirled away.