by Adam Silvera
“Should I keep going?” Ness asks.
“All good,” I say, even though I’m not ready for him to back up.
“Let me know when I can open my eyes.”
I’m tempted to tell him now, but if his face betrays his words, this memory will be stained, and I’ll never believe anyone again when they call me beautiful. I put my shirt back on.
“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.
Forty
True 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-One
Gravesend
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 squirms around my arms with one wing shielding her eyes from the light.
“She needs to be fed,” Ma says.
“Good luck making Gravesend vegan,” Prudencia says.
“Challenge accepted,” I joke, even though I know it’s not in her breed’s nature to eat anything but other animals. “I’ll see if there’s anything left in the kitchen and—”
Gravesend squirms more viciously, and her song chills my bones like when I’m walking through a bad neighborhood and can see shady characters watching me.
Then spellwork and screams echo in the hallway.
The Blood Casters are here for Gravesend.
“Turn off the lights and lock the door,” Ma says.
Was Gravesend warning us?
“We can’t stay here. Gravesend is too loud. Pru, get Ma somewhere safe.”
“You’re coming with us,” Prudencia says.
“I have to find Brighton.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this to Ma again, I can feel her heart breaking every time, but I’m not leaving without my brother. I peek out into the hallway, and a familiar blur is moving door to door, banging on each one.
Wesley appears before us, sweating and panting. “Enforcers. Enforcers are here. Get to the back and go past the fence. Cars will be waiting on the other side.”
“How did they—”
Wesley dashes off. How they found us doesn’t matter right now.
I hug Ma and Prudencia and tell them I’ll see them soon, then I run with Gravesend in my arms before they can stop me. I go for the roof first, shuddering whenever spellwork explodes, shaking the floors. I shout for Brighton, but he’s not up here. Over the ledge, I see six enforcer tanks parked by the front entrance. I rest Gravesend in the corner of the roof, praying to the stars this will be the safest spot to leave her while I hunt down Brighton. I kiss her forehead and rush back down. Her cries follow me the whole way.
The halls are crowded. In the chaos, I see an enforcer kick down
one door. Then there’s a whistle, and the enforcer falls asleep on the spot, allowing that celestial Zachary and an elderly woman to escape. I burst into rooms, calling Brighton’s name and ushering stragglers out. I round the stairs when an enforcer hurls a citrine gem-grenade at me, and I’m quick and precise with a fire-dart. The grenade explodes midair, and the shock wave blasts the enforcer down the stairs. My wounds burn when I use my power, but I have to fight through it. I run to the lower level to find Eva healing that girl Grace, the one whose loud voice Maribelle hoped to use for security—like tonight. Once the colorful lights close the hole in Grace’s stomach, I guide them into an empty classroom.
“Eva, what’s going on?” I ask.
“They broke in. They must’ve gotten through our defenses, and our evacuation plans have all gone to hell without Atlas and Maribelle. I haven’t seen Iris. . . .”
“Wesley said there are cars in back, beyond the fence. Go there. I’ll send Iris your way if I find her.”
I can’t imagine Brighton would be in the music room right by the entrance, but if enforcers or anyone got their hands on him, maybe there will be some evidence that he was there in the first place, like his laptop or clothes. I cross paths with a duo of enforcers, dodging their spells that explode against the lockers behind me. Fire-darts take them out and I make it to the room. Everything is wrecked—sheet stands have fallen on their sides, holes have been blown through drums, and the piano has folded in on itself. But no sign of Brighton.
Where the hell is he?
I move for the back door that leads to the auditorium’s stage when someone shouts for me to freeze. I don’t know if it’s one enforcer or half a dozen, but I don’t move.
This is it for me. I hope Brighton is okay, that Prudencia and Ma escaped, that Ness got far away, that the Spell Walkers win, that I won’t be reborn into a world where Luna and the Blood Casters are living forever.
I brace myself when I hear a spell discharge. An enforcer blasts past me and slams into the wall, unconscious. I turn around to see my savior, expecting Iris, but it’s another enforcer who’s very muscular and taking deep breaths as gray light transforms him.
Ness.
“You’re back,” I breathe, and I feel so energized and strong, like I could fight every day for the rest of my life.
“I saw the tanks. I wasn’t fast enough to warn you, but I had to help.”
I crash into him with a hug and squeeze hard because everything is going wrong and he came back for me. “Brighton’s missing, and Gravesend is alive and crying on the roof, and I can’t do this alone.”
“I’m here. Let’s find your brother, grab Gravesend, and get the hell out of here.”
We run through the auditorium, where two celestials are dead onstage. Ness drags me away, reminding me to focus as if forgetting dead bodies is easy to put out of my mind. The celestials here are trying to live, even if that means holing themselves up in an abandoned school so they won’t be treated as threats to society. At the entrance to the cafeteria, Iris is deflecting spells with her fists as Eva guides a dozen familiar faces out the back. She’s alive and they found each other. Between Ness popping back up like he’s the firefly, I have hope for Brighton.
“Maybe he left already,” Ness says.
If Brighton and I were living that ultimate Reys of Light dream where we were unstoppable and had unlimited powers, we could reach out to each other telepathically to let each other know we’re good, that we’re alive, that we’re sorry for letting this war get in the way of our brotherhood. But since we can’t, I have to do this the painfully slow way and search room by room, even as this building is being blown apart by spells and gem-grenades.
Everything on the first floor is a bust and we’re doing one last sweep through the second when three enforcers pop out of Ness’s old supplies closet.
“There he is!”
I blast the ceiling lamps to slow them down and while we’re cloaked in darkness, we sneak into a classroom.
“I have an idea.” Ness takes a deep breath and begins morphing—his brown skin goes pale, he inches a little taller, his hair becomes curlier, and his face becomes mine.
“No.”
“They want you, right?” he asks, his voice unchanging. “I’ll lead them away from you while you check the last couple of rooms. But if Brighton isn’t here, you have to grab Gravesend and leave. Promise me.”
“No, this won’t work, I—”
“Promise me, firefly!”
I put my face in my hands as terror squeezes me and I nod a promise.
Doors are being kicked down nearby, and watching Ness boldly run while wearing my face feels a lot like watching myself being so unlike myself in Brighton’s videos. Spells light up the hallway as they pursue Ness and when the coast is clear, I check the remaining classrooms and closets, but Brighton isn’t here. Gravesend’s song has only gotten louder in these emptied halls and a figure steps out of the darkness—June.
Her face is bruised and covered in dried blood. She looks to the roof.
No.
I run, but she’s faster, fading in and out several feet at a time. She’s inches from me on the way up the steps, but when I lunge, she’s gone, and I fall hard on my chest. I force myself back up, and when I reach the roof, Gravesend is inside June’s arms. I run so fast I almost trip over myself, I have to get ahold of her, but June sinks through the floor, and Gravesend’s cries vanish.
“NO!”
I hold myself up by the ledge, and that’s when I see enforcers carrying Ness—unconscious and with no glamour. They load him into the back of an armored truck, and once it takes off, all the enforcers return to their tanks and follow, even though they never got me.
Except maybe they were never here for me. Maybe it’s Ness they wanted all along.
I don’t know how they knew he’s alive, but between losing him and Gravesend and not knowing where the hell Brighton is, I feel so lost.
My fiery gray and gold wings burst into life, painfully, and I leap over the edge, praying to the Crowned Dreamer above that my brother will be home waiting for me.
Forty-Two
Eduardo Iron
NESS
I don’t feel right when I wake up.
This room is unfamiliar, but it’s not tough to figure out I’m on a boat—a life jacket sits in a corner, framed pictures of an anchor line the cabin’s wall, the floor is wobbling, and the smell of salt water fills the small space. I just don’t know whose boat.
My lower back stings from the enforcer’s stunning spell. Someone left me on the floor even though there’s a perfectly fine white leather couch. I get up and immediately topple over, banging into the floor and shouting. The door opens. There’s time to morph, but there’s no point. The owner of this boat knows who I am. I don’t have much in the way of weapons, but I grab a marine biology textbook off the shelf because it’s a lot heavier than my fist. My grip loosens immediately when the light catches the man’s face.
The Senator. His suit is crisp, and his black hair is slicked back, and I never understood how someone who devotes so much energy to hating celestials can find the time for all this maintenance. But he always did say that appearances are everything.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” the Senator says, adjusting his glasses. He’s not even looking me in the eye.
“You’re supposed to be happy I’m alive.”
The Senator reviews the remaining books on the shelf. “Yes, well, unfortunately your life puts me in a tricky situation this close to the election.”
“Are you serious?”
“Quite. I’ve put years into this campaign.”
“More years spent on politics than parenting, that’s for sure.”
“Only one of those paths was truly intentional, Eduardo.”
I cannot believe I come from this monster. “Why haven’t you killed me?”
“Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind.” The Senator pulls bourbon out of the mini fridg
e and pours himself a drink. “Certainly wouldn’t be the first time I tried.”
It’s as if he’s thrown me overboard and is watching me drown. “That wasn’t you. . . . Luna was responsible for the Blackout.”
“We were united by a common enemy. The growing support for the Spell Walkers negated everything my campaign stood for. Not ideal when you’re running against a celestial candidate. In exchange for my staying out of her affairs, Luna and I reached an agreement to eliminate the Spell Walkers.”
There’s no one in the world who truly knows the Senator or Luna. I was raised under his roof. I trusted Luna when she put shifter blood in me. Neither loved me.
“But why me?”
“Come on, Eduardo, you’re smarter than this. I certainly paid for higher education, at least. The support I gained from your death was immeasurable. The grieving father who wanted justice for his son’s death? Especially after losing his wife years before to more celestial violence? Hello, White House.”
The Senator’s smile fools the world, but I see him for who he really is.
I charge straight at him, and his fist catches me between the eyes. I’m seeing stars from the floor when his foot connects hard into my side, over and over. This is the person I feared so much that I risked death, hoping it would give me the power to hide from him. Someone who punches his son after telling him he coordinated his murder in the name of his own political agenda.
“You’re a heartless monster.”
“Monster? You’re the one with unnatural blood. Luna is crafty. It wasn’t in our agreement to let you live, but I suppose she took her precautionary measures in case I stepped out of line and interfered with her dealings. Exposing you to the world would’ve been my downfall. You must’ve pissed her off significantly for her to reach out to let me know that you were alive, knowing that I would send my guys to go collect you.”
That chaos was because of me.
Did Emil get out alive?
