“Maybe, maybe,” Cherish taunted us with her tone. “But shouldn’t you hurry? The hero is going to die.”
Well, that narrows it down to Armsmaster or Panacea. I stand by my bet.
It was Panacea or Armsmaster. Both were complicated. Panacea wouldn’t be able to defend herself, but Armsmaster was a whole mess of complications.
His power is to make the complications real small so he can stuff them all over the place in his armor.
We hurried to get suited up. My mask in ruins, I wrapped a scarf around my lower face and covered it with bugs.
Works for Miss Militia.
I drew them around my eyes to hide the frames of my glasses.
Nice.
And again we’re seeing Taylor be very casual about bugs right on her face.
As I finished up, I glanced at Bitch. Her knuckles were white, her posture rigid.
Ready to go fight this fucker, Bitch?
She was pissed.
Let’s just hope it’s at Siberian.
Also, they never did end up asking about Bastard.
I made sure I had all my gear, then joined the rest in filing out. Grue and Tattletale were the last out the door.
Glancing back to check on Grue, finding his posture and expressions unreadable beneath his darkness and costumes, I caught a glimpse of Tattletale messing with one of the pouches on her belt.
What’cha got there?
The pages we’d torn from the book were folded into a tight square, and she was pocketing them for later study.
Ahh. Gonna try to get her power to tell her who’s who, huh?
She saw me looking.
“You going to be okay with this?” She asked me. “You’re the best equipped to find Siberian’s real body and stop her. Him. Them.”
And speaking of changing the subject…
But yeah, I suppose she is, what with her bugdar and everything.
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