“Mmm …,” I said. “So you’re gorgeous and logical.”
She gave me a flat stare. I just shrugged.
“I’m still not sure this will work,” she said.
“You’re the one who came to see me,” I said. “And if you hadn’t noticed, back in the base, that moment in my room … it seemed to be working pretty well then.”
We stood, looking at one another, and I hated how awkward it suddenly felt. As if a fat man at the buffet had suddenly forced his way between us to get at the mac and cheese.
“I should be going,” she said. “Thank you. For being willing to talk. For not turning me in. For … being you.”
“I’m pretty good at being me,” I said. “I’ve had all these years to practice—I hardly ever get it wrong these days.”
We stared at each other.
“So, uh,” I said, shuffling from one foot to the other, “want to go with me to check up on Obliteration? If you’re not doing anything else important, I mean.”
She cocked her head. “Did you just invite me on a date … to spy on a deadly Epic planning to destroy the city?”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, but I’ve always heard you’re supposed to pick something you know the girl will enjoy.…”
She smiled. “Well, let’s get to it then.”
35
I pulled out my mobile for a map of the area and Megan looked over my shoulder and pointed to the south. “That way,” she said. “We’ve got a walk ahead of us.”
“You sure you don’t want to …” I gestured at the spyril on my legs.
“What part of ‘spying’ involves flying through the city and drawing the attention of everyone nearby?”
“The fun part,” I said, sullen. I’d practiced for a reason. I wanted to show off what I knew.
“Well,” Megan said, “it might not matter, but I’d rather be quiet about this. Yes, Regalia wanted me to seduce you, but I don’t want to be blatant—”
“Wait, what?” I stopped in place.
“Oh, um, yeah.” Megan grimaced. “Sorry. I meant my explanation to be way better.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Regalia wanted me to seduce you. I’m not sure how much she knows of my background with the Reckoners, and I think she came up with the idea of me and you on her own. But don’t worry; I decided before even coming here that I wasn’t going to actively work against the Reckoners.”
I stared at her. That was kind of a large bomb to drop on me, just like that. I knew it was stupid, but suddenly I found myself questioning the affection she’d shown me earlier.
She wouldn’t have just told you if she were really planning on doing it, I told myself pointedly. I’d already decided to trust Megan. I’d just have to do it on this issue too.
“Well,” I said, starting off and giving her a smile, “that’s good. Even if being seduced kind of sounds like it would be fun.”
“Slontze,” Megan said, visibly relaxing. She took my arm and steered me across the rooftop. “At least if we’re spotted, I think Regalia will assume I’m just trying to do as she said.”
“And if something goes wrong,” I noted, “we can use your illusions to distract her.”
Megan shot me a glance as we reached a narrow rope bridge to the next roof. She started across in front of me, presenting a fine silhouette. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers,” she said softly.
“You aren’t.”
“I sense a very large but.”
“Funny, because right in front of me, I see a—”
“Watch it.”
“—very attractive, um, set of calves. Look, Megan, I know I told you not to use your powers. But that was just a first step, a way to reset and gain control. It’s not going to work long-term.”
“I know,” she said. “There’s no way I’ll be able to resist.”
“I’m not just talking about that,” I said. “I’m talking about something bigger.”
She stopped on the bridge and looked back at me. We swung gently above the waters below, some four stories down in this case. I wasn’t worried about the drop—I was still wearing the spyril.
“Bigger?” she asked.
“We can’t fight the Epics.”
“But—”
“Not alone,” I continued. “I’ve accepted it. The Reckoners only survive because of Prof and because of things like the spyril. I spent years convincing myself that regular people could fight, and I still think we can. But we need the same weapons our enemies have.”
Megan inspected me in the darkness. The only light came from spraypaint on the ropes of the bridge. Finally, she stepped forward and picked at something around my neck. Abraham’s necklace, which I wore under the wetsuit. She pulled it out.
“I thought you said these people were idiots.”
“I said they were idealistic,” I clarified. “And they are. Heroes aren’t magically going to show up and save us. But maybe, with work, we can figure out how to … um … recruit a few of them.”
“Did I tell you why I came to Babilar?” she asked, still holding the necklace by its small S pendant.
I shook my head.
“Word is,” Megan said, “that Regalia can enhance an Epic’s powers. Make them stronger, more versatile.”
I nodded slowly. “So what she said to me the other day …”
“She didn’t just make it up then. This is something she’s been claiming, in certain circles, for at least a year now.”
“Which explains why so many High Epics have come to Babilar,” I said. “Mitosis, Sourcefield, Obliteration. She promised to increase their power in exchange for doing as she demanded.”
“And if there’s one thing most Epics want,” Megan agreed, “it’s more power. No matter how strong they already are.”
I shifted, feeling the bridge rock beneath us. “So you …”
“I came,” Megan said softly, “because I figured if she really can increase an Epic’s powers, she might be able to take mine away. Make me normal again.”
Silence hung between us like a dead wombat on a string.
“Megan …”
“A foolish dream,” she said, dropping the necklace and turning from me. “As foolish as yours. You’re as idealistic as Abraham, David.” She continued across the bridge, leaving me.
I hurried to catch up. “Maybe,” I said, taking her by the arm as we reached the other side. “But maybe not. Let’s work together, Megan. You and me. Maybe what you need is a pressure valve of some sort. You use your powers a little here and there, in a controlled situation, to scratch the itch. That lets you practice restraining the emotions. Or maybe there’s another trick, one we can discover together.”
She moved to pull away, but I held on tight.
“Megan,” I said, stepping around her and meeting her eyes. “Let’s at least try.”
“I …” She took a deep breath. “Sparks, you’re hard to ignore.”
I smiled.
Finally, she turned and pulled me toward an abandoned tent, really just a cloth propped up on one side by a pole mounted in the rooftop. “If we’re going to do this, you have to understand,” Megan said softly, “that my powers are not what they seem.”
“The illusions?”
“Not exactly.”
She squatted down in the shadows of the abandoned tent, and I joined her, uncertain what we were hiding from. Likely she just wanted to be sheltered as she talked, not so out in the open. But there was something very hesitant about her.
“I …” She bit her lip. “I’m not an illusion Epic.”
I frowned but didn’t object.
“You haven’t figured it out?” Megan asked. “That time back in Newcago in the elevator shaft, when you and I were close to being spotted by guards. They shined a flashlight right on us.”
“Yeah. You made an illusion of darkness to hide us.”
“And did you see any darkness?”
“Well, no.” I frowned. “Does
this have to do with the dowser?” It was the device—a real piece of technology, so far as I knew—that scanned a person and determined if they were an Epic or not. The Reckoners tested everyone in their team with some regularity. “I never did figure out how you fooled it. You could have created an illusion on the screen to cover the real result, but …”
“The dowser records its results,” Megan finished for me.
“Yeah. If Tia or Prof ever looked back at its logs, they’d have noticed a positive identification of an Epic. I can’t believe they never did that.” I focused on Megan, her face lit softly by some glowing spraypaint beneath us. “What are you?”