“Thanks, Ness.”
He still doesn’t look at me. “I’ll never forgive myself for putting you through that. I’m sorry.”
“You got me out of there and got us Gravesend. We’re good.”
“Speaking of,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pointing at Gravesend’s egg. “You got to handle that.”
“Don’t tell me to kill her. We just have to wait out this constellation.”
“Your best bet right now is that the Casters won’t feel good about storming into a place where you’ll have home field advantage. But one mistake costs us everything, so you have to get that egg far away from here.”
“We’re working on it. You should come with us,” I say. It’s going to take Brighton, Prudencia, and Ma a minute before they trust Ness, but they’ll have to get over it because we all need fresh starts, second chances. “We’re going to be hiding too.”
“But everyone is going to be looking for you. Fire-Wing,” Ness says. It’s another reason to hate how famous I’ve become. “If it wasn’t so risky, it would be really hard to turn down that invite. But it’s for the best. I should figure out my own path. If there was ever a time to run and start over, it’s when Luna is focused on tracking down that egg before the Crowned Dreamer goes away. I have to discover who I am outside of the Senator’s watch, outside of my debt to the Casters.”
He’s never been able to make his own choices. I respect this one especially. “You’ve got to protect yourself. I hope you don’t have to hide the rest of your life.”
“Pray to the stars that Luna and the Senator die sooner rather than later.”
I wonder who has to die before I can come out and live my life in peace.
“I should get going before it gets too dark,” Ness says.
I don’t know what else to say to him. When he closes the space between us, good nerves explode within me. I almost even get my lips ready. But when he pulls me into a hug, I’m not disappointed. A kiss would’ve made me feel wanted, but that’s not what this is. Right now, I feel comforted for the dark times ahead. Figuring out a new home, making peace with quitting this war, raising Gravesend with no experience. I rest my chin on Ness’s shoulder. Our ears brush, and I strangely wish I could somehow listen in on his thoughts to see if I’ll be on his mind too when he leaves.
When the hug breaks, my gaze doesn’t leave the floor.
“I hope you find yourself,” I say.
“I hope you pop up again, firefly,” Ness says, and the door clicks behind him.
FortyTrue Colors
NESS
Before I leave the illusion’s perimeter, I morph into a white man so no one will bother me. Every step away from Nova is terrifying, but I don’t let that show. I maintain this guise that I’m someone with a great life who’s simply out for a late-night stroll. No one will suspect this man is thinking about fleeing to the Dominican Republic where his mother was born, so he can connect with roots that the Senator didn’t encourage growing up. To get far away from everyone who ruined his life in this city.
Maybe when I’m older and the world has completely forgotten me, I can exist in the world again without a morph. Some people I pass on the street may question why I look so familiar, but no one is going to make the connection that I’m that kid they believed died in the Blackout.
I’m about to ask someone for directions when sirens approach. Cars clear a path, and enforcer tanks speed past me. They park, and a young man steps out. He pokes at the air with a glowing hand before yanking his entire arm back, like someone pulling a tablecloth out from underneath a dinner setting. There’s a massive flash that funnels away, and I can see everything—the empty gas station, and ahead, Nova.
The celestial broke the illusion.
The tanks speed toward the school, and I don’t understand how celestials can turn their back on their own kind. But who am I if I turn my back on Emil and the Spell Walkers when they may need me the most?
Forty-OneGravesend
EMIL
On the way to pack, I wish I had more than scars and memories to remember Ness by. I should’ve taken him up on that amateur art. Maybe he would’ve painted two boys sitting closely together on the floor. But after seeing how Atlas was used against Maribelle, maybe it’s best if we don’t let anyone get to know our hearts.
I enter the room and almost bump into Prudencia.
“I was about to come find you,” she says. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I was . . . I was seeing Ness out.”
Ma is on my air mattress beside a stuffed duffel bag, and she stops folding a shirt. “He left?”
I nod. “How are you two?”
“We’re done,” Prudencia says. “But Brighton’s stuff isn’t here. No clothes, no bag, no laptop.”
He’s probably camping out in someone else’s room. “I’ll go find him.”
I put down the egg, and it glows brighter than before and begins hatching.
“It’s happening!”
The room gets warm. I can’t believe I’m about to witness the birth of a phoenix—especially a century phoenix. Brighton should be here for this once-in-a-lifetime experience, getting it on camera like I always wanted for him, but there’s no time to find him. The shell cracks on one side and within seconds, a bronze beak is hammering away, yawning a song of chaos. Then Gravesend breaks free from her egg with her crown of midnight-blue feathers and eyes as big and shiny as marbles.
“What a beauty,” I say as I scoop her up in one of my shirts. She’s as light and soft as a bouquet of flowers. Her war-hungry cries grow louder and louder as she
