Archenemies (Renegades #2)(108)
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m not really that hungry. Do you think maybe we can just walk around a bit instead?”
“Sure,” said Adrian. “They actually have a gift shop here, if you want to check it out.”
“A gift shop?”
“Yeah. This started to become a popular tourist destination a few years ago, and Blacklight thought a gift shop would drum up extra revenue. It’s pretty cheesy stuff, but still fun. Especially if you’re in the market for a snow globe, or a new key chain. Or a magnet of the Gatlon skyline with your name printed down the side of the Merchant Tower.”
Nova’s smile became a little less strained. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been searching for exactly that.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
NOVA MEANDERED THROUGH the gift shop, her mouth open in disgust. Every piece of Renegade merchandise ever made must have been on display, with an unwholesome amount of shelf space paying homage to the Council—the beloved five.
Thunderbird alarm clocks. Tsunami lunch boxes. Blacklight night-lights. Dread Warden stickers and Captain Chromium …
Well.
Everything Captain Chromium. From themed dishes to sun visors, guitar picks to action figures, skateboards to refrigerator magnets. There was no product that someone, somewhere, hadn’t thought to put Hugh Everhart’s sparkling face on.
It was with a sick feeling that Nova realized, if someone was selling this junk, then someone else was buying it.
She picked up a snow globe with the Gatlon skyline beneath the glass, prominently featuring the headquarters tower. It made her think of the mason jar where they were keeping Danna’s butterfly, at that very moment perched on Honey’s vanity back at the house on Wallowridge.
She put down the snow globe.
“Prodigies used to be hated,” she said, her attention skipping from shelf to shelf. She inspected a set of Captain Chromium and Dread Warden salt and pepper shakers, flabbergasted. “They used to literally hunt us down and burn us alive. And now…” She held up the shakers. “Now we’re tchotchkes?”
Adrian grimaced. “Those are disturbing.”
“It’s weird though, right?” Nova put the shakers back on the shelf. “To be despised for so long … and it wasn’t all that long ago.”
“A lot changed in the last thirty years,” said Adrian, turning a rack of key chains. “Ace Anarchy showed humanity that some prodigies should be feared and hated, while the Renegades showed them that some prodigies should be loved and appreciated.”
“Appreciated,” said Nova. “But surely not … idolized.”
Adrian grinned at her. “That’s human nature, isn’t it? People want to put someone on a pedestal. Maybe it gives them something to dream about.” He started to flip through a booklet of postcards.
Nova stared at him. There was a tiny speck of lint on the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket, and it was only because her fingers itched so much to pick it off that she clenched her fist and tucked it behind her back instead.
She’d been anticipating another kiss from Adrian, which made her both excited and nervous and even guilty, knowing that this relationship was doomed. But she’d been at the gala for five whole minutes now and he’d made no move, not even to hold her hand.
The conflicting emotions were more than a little alarming.
“What would you have done if you’d been alive before the Age of Anarchy?” she asked. “Do you think you would have hidden your power? Or tried to make a living as a magician or an illusionist, even if you risked getting caught? Or would you have tried to defend yourself and other prodigies, like Ace Anarchy did?”
One side of Adrian’s mouth quirked wryly. “I definitely wouldn’t have done what Ace Anarchy did.”
“Why not?” said Nova, and though she could hear the defensiveness in her voice, she couldn’t stop herself. “Back then, you would have been afraid for your life. You would have known that if you were ever found out, they would kill you. For no other reason than…” She hesitated. “For no reason at all.”
Adrian seemed to consider her point. After a long moment, he said, “I think I would have found some cause that I could have helped. Like making artificial limbs for war veterans, or toys for children whose families couldn’t afford any, or … I don’t know, something charitable like that. And I would start making these things, and donating them anonymously, so no one would know where they came from. But I’d keep at it, and eventually they’d start to think of me as some protective guardian, and they’d be so grateful for all my help and all the things I made, that when I finally revealed myself and they learned all these things were made by a prodigy, they’d see that our powers can be used for good. And maybe it would have started to change people’s minds about us.” He glanced at a set of Council-themed shot glasses and shrugged. “Just like the Renegades changed people’s minds, by helping people, rather than hurting them.”
“And what if,” said Nova, “after you revealed yourself, they decided that all those things you made must have been the result of evil forces, and they took them away from all those war veterans or children, and they still killed you? That happened, you know. Lots of prodigies tried to use their powers to do good things. Lots of prodigies tried to show the world that we aren’t evil, and it wasn’t gratitude they got in return.”