I’d had two days to think about what I wanted to say. I straightened up in my chair and met his gaze. “Yeah. Whether you all want to talk about it or not, what happened at the Hole proves I have some power. All I want is the opportunity to use that power.”
For a terrifying moment, I thought nobody would ask, but finally, Dominion spoke.
“For what purpose?”
“To protect the people who don’t have any. Isn’t that why Capes exist?”
•—•—•
I thought I’d scored some points by paraphrasing Dominion’s own quote about power, but ten minutes later, I was back out in the hall, sitting in an uncomfortable, slightly wobbly chair while the review board debated my fate within.
It had been a tiring two weeks and I was still a long way from processing everything that had gone down out in the desert. As horrific as the battle had been, it was the stuff before it that was keeping me up at nights. My father. Sally Cemetery. The mysterious third party and whatever it was he had done. I’d gone to the Hole for answers and revenge. In some ways, I’d gotten both, but they had only made things worse.
Stifling a yawn, I watched a student amble down the hall in my direction, Glass in one hand and a manila folder in the other. He was about my age, but short, and soft around the edges. Either he was a normal student—working as an office aide through the year-end break—or an incoming first-year, with no clue whatsoever about the hell Nikolai had in store for him.
With his head buried in his Glass, he’d almost reached me before he realized someone else was there. He shrieked and threw up his hands.
I plucked his Glass out of the air, but the manila folder went everywhere, spilling out type-written pages and a handful of black and white photographs.
“You okay?” I passed the Glass back over.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” His eyes were wide and glued to my face.
“Him who?”
“The Crow who killed Carnage.”
Got to admit it; I really loved the sound of that. The little bit of awe in his voice didn’t hurt either.
“Call me Walker.” The first thing I’d done with my own Glass was verify that the name hadn’t already been claimed. For once, luck had been on my side.
“What was it like?”
In my mind, I watched Tempest fall from the sky. Just like that, the conversation stopped being fun.
“A lot of good people died,” I finally said. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t worth it.”
“Oh.” He dropped his eyes, and started stuffing photos and pages back into his manila folder.
“Wait.” I peered over his shoulder. “What are those?”
“Black Hat files,” he told me, opening the folder wide. At the top of the loose stack was the picture that had gotten my attention.
Her Majesty was instantly recognizable in the figure-hugging leather outfit and ever-present motorcycle helmet. The helmet’s visor was down, as usual, showing that same smiley face decal, and she had one gloved hand raised toward the camera, middle finger extended.
“That’s—”
“The Queen of Smiles,” the student supplied helpfully. “Now there’s someone worth going bad for, am I right?”
I tucked that name away for future research. “I heard she was more mercenary than Black Hat.”
He shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t put the files together… I’m just sorting through them for the board.” He saw my confused look and nodded to a corkboard that hung further down the wall. “The Most Wanted board?”
I followed him down the hall to see for myself. The board held photos, aliases, and other details for ten of the worst Black Hats to operate in the Free States.
“The Security Council has a digital version, of course, but Dean Bard likes to do some things the old-fashioned way. Carnage was number six. With him dead, we’ll add someone new to the board. Not the Queen,” he added. “She’s barely top twenty-five, unfortunately. I wouldn’t mind walking past her photo every day.”
Any other time, I might have kicked his ass for objectifying the subject of my own unrequited lust. This once, not even the Queen’s fantastic figure could hold my attention. I was too busy staring at the board.
With Carnage gone, there were only nine Black Hats posted. Eight had a wealth of details next to their names, along with images that captured their likenesses from every angle. The ninth one was different, represented by a single photo and an index card. The picture had been taken at night and from far away, but it showed a man of average height, average build, and thoroughly average appearance. There was only one thing that kept him from being completely forgettable.
He had eyes like copper pennies.
Even in the grainy photo, they glittered in the dim light of the street lamp above him. I’d seen those eyes before. They belonged to the man who had taken me from Mama Rawlins, the Finder who had set me on my path to joining the Academy.
I stared up at the photo of the man I knew as Mr. Grey, and looked at the index card pinned next to it. No powers, no aliases, no known associates.
Just a single name:
Tyrant.
Epilogue
In the conference room, Isabel, Macy, and Paladin debated the fate of Damian Banach, each of them making their cases to Jonathan Bard. The dean listened attentively, but his gaze couldn’t help but stray to the final member of the review board, the most powerful person in the room—if not the world—and the only one who wasn’t speaking.
At last, Dominion stepped forward. “I know you have your reasons for everything that you do, Jonathan, but I would love to hear why we’re having this trial.”
“What do you mean?” asked Isabel Ferra. “The boy’s presence at the Academy was contingent upon adherence to certain rules. He failed to—”
“Between sounding the alarm at the Hole and killing Carnage, the boy saved innumerable lives, Isabel. As terrible as our losses were, they would have been far worse
