Archenemies (Renegades #2)(102)

The jungle assaulted her senses even more strongly now that she could compare it to the real world. The birds were still up in the boughs, squawking and tittering, and the intoxicating perfume of the flowers engulfed her.

From the doorway, she could only see a glimpse of the statue’s shoulder and a sliver of its hood. Nova made her way through the brush until she was standing before it again.

In her childhood dream, this was as far as she’d gotten. She could clearly remember the sensation of awe she’d had when she stood before this statue, caught up in that whimsical, unconscious state. Even now, she felt swept away by the impossibility of it. The sheer miracle of this tiny star brought into being.

She had wanted to touch it in the dream, but she never had the chance. She woke up too soon.

Her hands trembled as she lifted them, fingers outstretched. Some quiet instinct told her that she had to sneak up on the star. Like if she moved too fast, she would frighten it away.

It glowed, as if it were aware of her presence. When she was mere inches away, she realized that the star had begun to shift in color, from vibrant white to something mellow and rich. A copper gold, just like the material that her father used to cull from the air.

Nova brought her hands together, cupping them around the star. Its warmth pulsed against her palms.

Exhaling, she brought her cupped hands back to her chest. As her heart tapped a furious beat, she dared to part her thumbs. Just enough. Just enough to see the star clasped within.

It flashed suddenly, blinding her. Nova stumbled back, turning her head away.

The flash left a glaring spot against her eyelids that refused to fade for a long time, as she blinked and squinted into her hands. The imprint of light in her vision started to disperse and she looked around in awe, seeing flickers of thin, golden veins pulsing in the air all around her.

Nova squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her knuckles into them.

When she opened them again, the strange patterns of light were gone, and so was the star.

Nova’s chest tightened with disappointment, but it was followed by a self-deprecating laugh.

What had she expected? That she could take it with her? That she could keep this star forever, to remember this one blissful night? A night that had been built on lies and deception?

Sighing, Nova trudged back through the foliage. She was nearly to the door when a glow caught her eye.

She froze. A shadow had flickered across a fallen tree trunk. She turned, searching for the source of light, and the shadows shifted again. There was nothing behind her.

She turned in a full circle, and the play of light and shadow spun with her.

Nova looked down. Gasping, she extended her arm in front of her, staring at the filigree bracelet that her father had left to her, unfinished.

Now, where those prongs had sat empty for so many years without a precious stone to fill them, there emanated the light from a single golden star.

“Oh, for all the skies,” she grumbled. She spent a minute trying to dig her fingers beneath the stone and wrench it free of the prongs, but it wouldn’t budge.

She heard the crescendo of dramatic music coming from the television in Adrian’s room. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her sleeve down over the bracelet and went back to him. The credits were rolling on the film and Adrian was still asleep on the sofa, but she knew he wouldn’t sleep much longer.

Nova nudged Adrian’s body up and nestled herself beside him. She had barely sunk into the cushions when Adrian groaned and stretched, his eyelids flittering.

He started when he saw her, quickly withdrawing the arm that she’d draped surreptitiously over her own shoulders. “Nova? I…” He scrunched his drowsy face. “What…”

She beamed, as bright as she could manage. “All that painting must have made you tired. I think you missed the whole movie.”

“I fell asleep?” He glanced at the TV, rubbing his eyes. “I … I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I slept for twenty-four hours, remember?”

“Yeah, but … we were…” His brow was crinkled as he reached for his glasses on the table and slipped them on. “Weren’t we…?” His voice trailed off.

“I need to head home,” said Nova, flushing when she thought of the kiss. “I’ll see you at the gala, okay? Try to get some more rest.”

He gaped at her, his confusion beginning to clear. “The gala. Right. I’ll see you there.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Nova leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Good night, Adrian.”

Then she hurried back up the stairs, a star on her wrist, a medallion tucked beneath her shirt, and a cruel twinge of giddiness fluttering inside her chest.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“AND THIS SILVER SPEAR will work?” said Ace, his voice thick with disdain as they discussed the chromium pike that most of the world believed had destroyed his helmet.

“I don’t know for sure,” said Nova. “But Captain Chromium definitely implied that one of his chromium weapons would be strong enough to damage the box. If I can wield it with enough force, that is.” She frowned, letting her gaze travel between each of her companions. “I’m taking that helmet, one way or the other. If I can’t get into the box, then I’ll bring the whole thing back, and we’ll figure out a solution later.”