That chaos was because of me.
Did Emil get out alive?
“What do you want from me?”
“Your power could be very valuable to me. Impersonate Congresswoman Sunstar and her committee and help me tank her support. Then, after I’ve secured the presidency, we can bring you back to life, but keep your powers discreet. There will be plenty of opportunities to use them during my terms.”
“I’ll never help you,” I say.
“Maybe some time in the Bounds will change your mind.”
That’s where we’re headed. We’re crossing the river to get to the New York Bounds, where some of the toughest of celestials are locked up. Where they kill each other for survival and sport.
“I’ll expose you! Word will get out that your entire campaign is a lie!”
“You’ll tell your fellow prisoners that you’re the son of the man whose policies are the reasons they’re behind bars? Best of luck surviving that. Eduardo, your time to reveal your truth has long passed. But I’m being fair and giving you the option to either help me win this election or fight for your life in the Bounds.” The Senator has no false smiles for me. “I need an answer fast. Who are you going to be?”
Forty-ThreeShining Bright
BRIGHTON
I turn away from my laptop and stare at the Crowned Dreamer from outside my window.
So much has changed since the constellation first returned to the sky. I was getting ready to leave for college. Emil and I were powerless together. But now the stars are shining their brightest before vanishing by morning, and Maribelle Lucero is sitting on my bed after the most game-changing month of my life. I’m famous; I have purpose. I’ve proven time and time again that Emil might be the one with powers, but I’m still powerful.
Maribelle is honoring Atlas with Instagram posts—my idea. She had the password to his account and decided she wanted to post three photos: Atlas’s first day in New York, in front of a map that inspired his name; a selfie of Atlas and Maribelle during some rooftop date that was too hard for her to talk about; and the last of Atlas sleeping with a smile on his face. She doesn’t speak to me when writing out her last caption, or any before, but after this, we’re hitting the streets to find any leads on Luna’s whereabouts. Wherever Luna is, June won’t be far.
“Done,” Maribelle says, pocketing her phone.
She’s paying no mind to all the geeky Spell Walker stuff I have around the room, including the art print I have of her. Her eyes glow like sailing comets, but one is brighter than the other, as dark yellow flames burst between her palms. Maribelle’s fire sounds different from Emil’s—less of a screech and more of a roar. She has a greater handle on hers too. Let’s see how Emil likes that.
“Let’s go kill June,” she says.
“You got it, Infinity Daughter.”
She’s not amused.
I still can’t believe everything about Maribelle’s true lineage. I thought we covered this ground already with Emil, but of course his own story is so huge that it involves a Spell Walker I’ve admired for years.
I’m about to close my laptop when a news notification pops up.
“Nova was attacked,” I say. The school was infiltrated by enforcers, and celestials were taken into custody. There’s a warning for everyone to stay inside and wait out the constellation, as authorities believe the night will bring more chaos as celestials ride the high of the Crowned Dreamer. “Eight deaths have been confirmed. Give me your phone.”
I lost mine in the cemetery. I don’t know anyone’s number but Emil’s and Ma’s—they were drilled into me when Dad was sick—and both their lines go straight to voicemail. But I can’t assume the worst. There’s a million reasons why they wouldn’t have their phones—they left them behind, they didn’t keep up with charging them since everyone they needed was under the same roof.
“This has to be Luna,” Maribelle says. “She didn’t make her move until we had something of hers that she couldn’t get without help.”
“What’s our move?”
“We head for the church. Let’s count on Luna having the phoenix. She’ll have her entire gang backing her up too. We go hit them with everything we’ve got before they become unhittable.”
“Emil is still alive,” I say. The blood-and-bones feeling won’t let me believe anything else. “He’ll be there too.”
“If anyone gets in our way, we strike them down. Got it?”
I nod. “I want to be a better soldier for you,” I say.
“I’m listening.”
Everything is a long shot—stopping Luna, killing June, getting out of the church alive, my big plan to put an end to all the insanity we’ve faced—but we leave the apartment with a dangerous amount of hope anyway, because the odds being unlikely don’t make them impossible.
Forty-FourThe Crowned Dreamer
EMIL
When will this end?
Phoenixes endure endless cycles of life and death, but I’m done being the Infinity Son.
I come home to an empty apartment that’s straight wrecked. Brighton isn’t here, and I’m out of ideas. If he decided to take off to Los Angeles and focus on school and start over and never talk to me again, I could make peace with that—as long as he’s alive. I go in our bedroom, which smells like someone lit a match, and I collapse onto his bed and cry into his pillow because he might be dead, and there’s no way Ma is going to survive her eldest dying, especially so soon after Dad.
Why did I have to be reborn into this?
When the pain becomes too much, I get out of bed. I go into Brighton’s drawer and grab one of his favorite shirts that he must’ve missed when packing. Brighton was always going to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, but I didn’t have to engage with this war. I drag myself
