Read Young Sentinels (Wearing the Cape) (Volume 3) for Free Online Page B

inside-out.
    “Hey! Breathe! Breathe!” Shelly gasped, wide-eyed and flapping her hands like she was trying to put out a fire. Jamal rose into a crouch. I stared at the carpet, focused on the bottle in my hand, and the heat dropped until I didn’t feel like I was shining through my skin.
    Okay, okay, no bang, all good . “How could you tell?” I asked finally. It wasn’t like it showed .
    “Vulcan made my eyes to spec, duh.” She dropped her hands. “Might as well get them in infrared, match Ho — Astra on something.”
    I gripped the bottle, put it to my forehead for the chill. “Are you guys testing me again?”
    She looked away. “No. Well, giving you practice, really. We think you need to, you know, learn how not to sneeze. Crash could have got us both out of here before you went off, and we can always repaint.”
    “You’re all freaking crazy .”
    The insane robot girl actually looked hurt. Jamal put his bottle down and stood up. “Hey, you walk by falling.”
    “And what is that ?”
    “Sifu stuff. Like, if a mighty pine falls in the forest we can’t see for the trees, does it hit the bear crapping in the woods? Later. C’mon Shell.”
    She shot me a look promising this was so not over, and marched out with what she probably thought was dignity. Crash gave me a shrug that could have meant anything and closed the door behind them. I resisted the urge to kick the half-empty Dew he’d left. I’d probably blow it up.
    Shit.

Chapter Five: Astra
    “Traffic remains blocked along Dundee Road between South Milwaukee Avenue and the Tri-State Tollway. Despite protests from the Sierra Club, which is attempting to get the new old-growth forest declared a national park, the city has directed The Crew to clear the growth from the connecting roads so that repairs may begin.
    “The Green Man has released a second Internet video, demanding the city close its nuclear power stations and tax private vehicles to build a larger public transportation system. The Office of Emergency Management recommends citizens keep evacuation packs handy and be ready to relocate to a temporary living situation; for most Chicagoans, such arrangements are typically reciprocal guest-agreements with family or acquaintances living in different parts of the city.”
    Chicago City News
    ----
    Blackstone looked up from his desk when I knocked on his open door. Blackstone’s office door was always open; anyone getting past Bob had a right to be there, and an open door said “No secrets in here.”
    “I have my choices.”
    “Do you, my dear?” No are you sure? or That was quick . His smiling eyes weren’t a mask, really, just the surface of something deeper.
    “May I see them?” he invited. He still hadn’t finished his morning coffee. The way I felt, I needed the stuff administered intravenously.
    I had stayed up until it was pointless to go to bed, but I was ready with my facts and my arguments, and one tap on my epad sent the file to his mailbox. He opened it to read while I sat and looked around to keep from watching and fidgeting. There was always plenty to look at. Atlas had kept his office nearly featureless (he’d spent as little time there as possible) but bookcases covered Blackstone’s walls. The few open spaces were covered by framed vintage show posters of Blackstone the Magician, his inspiration and namesake. The one exception — obviously Chakra’s touch — was a framed lotus sand-mandala behind his desk. Bright trophies looked back at me from the book-filled shelves, awards from Blackstone’s years as an actual stage magician. A crystal goblet with gold engraving, Best Sleight of Hand Performer, World Magic Awards 1998 , held pride of place.
    I twitched my cape, settled deeper in my chair, and read the rest of the awards without getting up — super-duper vision was socially useful — then started counting the books whose names I recognized.
    Blackstone looked up. “Well, my dear, you have not failed to