“Be careful!” I shout as she runs off.
I knock out an acolyte with a fire-dart and fight past others trying to reach Luna. The ghosts have been released from the urn, and even though their mouths are moving, no words are coming out. It’s the same howl as the night from the cemetery, except even more haunting and bone-chillingly empty. Everyone feels it too, but the battle keeps going. Luna isn’t looking to capture this time. She’s going to kill them with a dagger fully made of bone. I’m hurling a fire-orb when an acolyte tackles me, screwing up my aim.
Luna is swift as she runs the oblivion dagger across the necks of her mother and father, their gray blood spilling into the cauldron before their ghostly bodies fall face-first into the grass and fade away. She mixes the bloods with powders and liquids I don’t know, and she turns to Gravesend’s cage.
I finally wrestle the acolyte off me, and as Stanton charges me, a red bolt catches him in his side and he drops, his skin flaring as if being burned from the inside. I turn.
Brighton is standing at the entrance of the garden with a wand in each hand, and Maribelle has orbs of dark yellow fire rolling around her palms. The fire-orbs fly like arrows, and Dione drops to the ground.
I’m in shock, but I have to protect Gravesend. Anklin blocks my path, and I fight him like I’ve been doing this my entire life—punch to the gut, elbow to the chin, kick to the knee. I’m about to wind up a final blow when he quickly withdraws a dagger and slices my arm. Anklin holds the dagger above his head, and as he’s driving it down, he’s set ablaze.
Roaring streams of dark yellow fire flow from Maribelle’s fists, and she doesn’t let up until Anklin Prince’s screams go quiet.
There is no remorse on her face as she helps me up.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You killed him,” I say.
“She’s next,” Maribelle says as she spots June across the garden and pursues her.
Luna opens Gravesend’s cage, but I cast a fire-arrow into her shoulder, and she falls. I grab Gravesend out of her cage, holding her to my chest. Even with Brighton and Maribelle joining the battle, the tides are turning against us. Stanton and Dione have recovered and appear more vicious than ever. The potion is nearly done, and all it needs is Gravesend’s pure blood.
I pick up the infinity-ender. “I’m sorry,” I say to Gravesend as she looks up at me with adoring eyes. I was the first person she saw when she was born, and I have to sacrifice her for a world she never got to see.
This is wrong, I can’t—
The blade is snatched out of my hand, and Luna drives it straight into Gravesend’s heart while she’s still in my arms. Gravesend’s brief cry sounds like all the pain in the world. I’m staring into her eyes as the fire goes out, and I’m completely frozen when Luna rips the blade out of Gravesend and stabs me in the stomach. The pain blazes as she twists the blade. She wrenches Gravesend out of my arms, and I slam on my back, staring up at the Crowned Dreamer, whose brilliant light fades from me as my eyes close.
I hear screams all around me, and I’m hoping my people are all good. I want them to run and hide—this is all a done deal. I pull the infinity-ender out of my stomach and press down on my wound while trying to breathe. I look up to find Luna draining Gravesend’s dark blue blood over the cauldron. I’m too weak to call for help—every breath needs to be used to stay alive. Luna takes a step back from the cauldron and throws in a pouch of stardust, and it all erupts in see-through flames that smell of rainy evenings in the park and houses on fire. Luna is shaking as she scoops up enough potion to fill a round bottle that looks like an empty snow globe. The elixir looks like dirty seawater.
Red bolts strike through the air, blowing apart the cauldron and flying through Luna’s stomach. Her eyes widen, and she falls to the floor, choking. Elixir splashes out of her bottle, but she’s protected most of it. I try crawling to her. I’ll spill it out myself and turn my back on Luna as she dies.
Brighton and Maribelle run up to me.
“You’re going to be okay,” Brighton says, kneeling beside me.
“Stop her,” I say as Luna tries bringing the potion to her lips.
Maribelle steps on Luna’s wrist and snatches the bottle. “So close,” she taunts.
Brighton moves over to Luna, hovering over her face. “You thought I was nothing more than a pawn, and look who stopped you.” He holds out his hand and Maribelle passes him the potion. “Who’s the king now?”
“Pour it out,” I say. But he doesn’t, and it feels like someone is squeezing my heart. There’s someone who wants power even more than Luna. “Brighton, don’t do this, that potion is untested. You could die like Dad did.”
Brighton stares at the elixir. “Better than living powerless.”
My brother looks up at the Crowned Dreamer as he drinks every last drop of Reaper’s Blood.
Acknowledgments
Infinity Son destroyed me time and time again, but so many of my heroes pieced me back together.
Andrew Eliopulos is a brilliant and magnificent editor, who lived in this world with me so completely that he easily pictured celestials flying outside his window. I wouldn’t have a book that I’m proud of without all his guidance, which helped me unlock this story that’s been with me for well over a decade. And his patience after I missed my deadline so I could rewrite the book. And that other deadline. And yup, that one too.
Brooks Sherman got to geek out extra hard with me with this transition into the fantasy genre. We’ve talked about comics
