Starlight (Book 1)

43: We All Have Something Worth Fighting For, Sparky

I dodged through what was quite possibly the creepiest alley in the whole of Astral City, hoping the cracked pavement would lead me to my destination like breadcrumbs. Even though I knew Spark was desperately trying to upkeep his villain's appearance, I didn't like the way the buildings were looking at me.

Terry was the only person who'd agreed to come along, and he was only doing it because I'd promised to buy him ice cream afterward. It was almost concerning how little effort it took to convince him. Rightfully, Lily and Eleni were around the corner, ready to ambush.

Above my head were a few apartment windows, the blinds pulled shut. A few buildings down, an air conditioner hummed to life.

"That has to be the signal," I said. "Let's go."

I peeked around the corner, jittery. The sun pierced into the alley, shining like a dim lightbulb about to flicker out.

"Are you sure about this?" said Terry, testily. Whatever bravado he'd put on had faded now, and he'd questioned me the entire length of the way.

I waved my hand dismissively. "Look. While you were kidnapped, did you ever see Spark? Even once?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I know what you're trying to do, CD, but it's not going to work on me."

For once, the nickname didn't bother me. For once, hearing it made me smile. There was an irony to it; how anyone that might hear him already knew who I was. "If you question me one more time, you're stuck with mint chocolate chip."

"I like mint," he reminded me. "You garlic bread hating, mint chocolate chip bashing weirdo."

I repressed the urge to kick him and glanced down the alley again. "Did you check the time?"

"Why, is your precious villain late to our meeting in a deserted—"

"Behind you," said Spark's voice. At once, I whirled around. Terry jumped—a soft pop, and he'd teleported about five feet away from us.

"Really? Now?" I said.

"Not my fault," he quipped as if I was going to believe that, (I mean, sure, he couldn't control his powers yet, but I was still going to blame him for it) and accusingly narrowed his eyes at Spark. The villain was dressed in his usual hand-sewn mask, a blue hooded cloak swaying above his black boots.

"Are you finished with the jokes?" Spark asked, a touch of humour hidden behind his tone. If villains had a certain manner of speech, it was the taunt of a person who asked questions while already knowing the answer. "I'm working on borrowed time. Go ahead, enlighten me. I've got places to be."

"Anything interesting?" I said, testing my luck.

Spark shrugged. There was something so Riley about the movement that for a second I forgot who I was talking to. To Terry—to everyone, really—he was a villain, but to me, he would always be my father. "I was thinking about breaking into this house and moving all the furniture a few inches to left," he said. "It would really freak people out, that's the point—but I can't seem to figure out if that's too evil or not evil enough."

Terry stared vacantly at him. "Right... and why exactly should we trust you?"

"You don't have to trust me," Spark replied. "In fact, it's better if you don't." From the depths of his cloak, he removed two smaller pieces of fabric and tossed them over to Terry. "Put on the cloaks. If you want this to succeed, you need to hide your faces. Forgive me, what did you say your name was?"

I waited earnestly for Terry's response. "Dragon Ninja," he mumbled. That's what he's going with this time? "Which sounded a lot better in my head..."