“How strong?” Nate asked.

Summer shrugged. “Try to push me.”

Nate placed a hand on each of Summer’s shoulders and shoved. Instead of her moving, he pushed himself away, as if he had shoved a wall. Summer smirked.

“You look the same,” Nate said, surprised.

“I didn’t get bigger,” Summer said. “But I weigh a lot more, and I’m scary strong.”

“How strong?” Nate repeated.

“Fly up to the ceiling.”

Nate turned and started to soar upward. A hand gripped his ankle with painful tightness, and his upward progress stopped. He put everything he had into flying up, but didn’t go anywhere.

He glanced back at Summer. “So you can hold me down. But I’m not sure I could carry your weight even if you weren’t a Tank.”

“Are you calling me chubby?” Summer accused.

“No,” Nate said. “I’m just not sure how much extra weight I can carry while flying.”

Derek walked over holding a barbell. “Two 45-pound plates on each side,” he said. “Plus the bar weighs 45. That’s a total of 225.”

He tossed the barbell to Summer, who caught it easily. She lifted it over her head. “This isn’t bad,” she reported. “Kind of heavy. I could do more.” She set it down.

Nate bent and tried to pick it up. The barbell felt fused to the floor. He couldn’t lift it at all, although he could roll it back and forth.

Nate straightened, looking at Derek. “Can you lift a car?”

“The back end of a small one. But that feels really heavy. With Summer helping we might be able to lift a small one completely off the ground.”

“So you’re not strong like a superhero,” Nate clarified.

“Not really,” Derek said. “But we can take punishment like a superhero. Still, I’m not a big kid, but it would probably take the strongest man alive to challenge me at arm wrestling.”

“I’m impressed,” Nate said. “Do you guys shoot cannonballs, too?”

“Do you launch air-to-surface missiles?” Summer countered.

Nate shook his head. “I wish we were a little more durable. We have to be careful flying or we could really get hurt.”

“You better be careful if you go up against the Tanks,” Derek warned with a smile. “You might get hurt that way, too.”

*****

Parked near an office supply store, Vincent, Ziggy, Trevor, and Pigeon huddled together in the white van. Trevor and Pigeon munched on the donuts Ziggy had provided.

“Jonas White?” Vincent said. “He normally keeps to the shadows. Not a lot is known about him. I suppose we should have kept him higher on our suspect list. After all, his sister was here last year. But he has never been known to partner with his sister, and although we suspect that he’s powerful, he has stayed inactive for decades.”

“Sometimes guys like him bide their time,” Ziggy said. “They’re powerful, but they’ve learned patience. They marshal their resources and wait for a big score. Remember Vadik Baskov?”

Victor snorted. “Good point.”

“What did he do?” Pigeon wondered.

“He stole the Hope Diamond,” Victor said.

“From the Smithsonian?” Pigeon exclaimed.

“This was before the Smithsonian had it,” Ziggy said.

“We returned it to the rightful owner,” Victor added.

“How long have you guys been doing this?” Trevor wondered.

“Almost a century,” Ziggy replied.

“We’re straying off topic,” Victor said.

“Right,” Ziggy said. “Jonas White. What else did you learn?”

“Nate told us that the stamps themselves have power,” Trevor said. “He was worried about sharing details.”

“Summer seemed nervous too,” Pigeon said. “She came by briefly after she finished with Jonas. She said he was planning a treasure hunt.”

“Treasure hunt?” Victor repeated. “What could he be after?”

“That’s a question for Mozag,” Ziggy replied. “I’m not sure what a magician might want around here.”

“What else do you guys know about Jonas White?” Pigeon asked.

“Almost nothing,” Victor said. “Again, it would be nice to ask Mozag. I know that Jonas White has been around since long before our time, which means he’s no featherweight. I’m not sure where he comes from or what his specialties might be.”

“We looked into the nachos,” Ziggy said. “They’ve magically tampered with the cheese. We’re not experts at magical formulas, but we think the cheese is like the white fudge from John’s report on Belinda White. The cheese is addictive and numbs the ability of those who eat it to perceive the supernatural.”

“We think it might also be designed to reactivate any old white fudge addictions,” Victor added. “We’ll confirm more as we continue to monitor the situation. Certainly stay away from it.”

“We will,” Trevor said. “And we’ll let you know more after we earn our stamps tomorrow.”

“Careful about that,” Ziggy warned. “Jonas White is recruiting. He’ll have ways of binding you to him. He won’t want you sharing info with us.”

“If all else fails, come to my house in the middle of the night,” Pigeon said. “I’ll talk to you.”

“I hope so,” Victor sighed.

*****

Nate and Lindy flew beside each other through the night sky. Staying well above the rooftops, Nate doubted whether people on the ground could possibly identify them as anything more than small, quick shadows against the moon and stars. The cool night air swished against him. It felt exhilarating not to be limited by a ceiling or walls. If he wanted, he could soar up to where the air would become thin and freezing.

Nate didn’t try anything too fancy because he didn’t want to lose track of Lindy in the darkness. He had promised to stand by her when she returned home.

They glided down to the back of the candy shop, careful to land lightly. While practicing at the training facility, Nate had landed without much caution a couple of times, and it had felt like jumping from a moving vehicle.

The candy shop was closed. Lindy used a key to enter through the back door. She flipped a light switch. A moment after the lights came on, Mr. Stott hurried into the room. He looked from Nate to Lindy, his posture and expression showing his relief. He straightened up and tried to sound stern. “Where have you been, young lady?”