by Adam Silvera
Dione grabs me by the arm and drags me down the steps to the basement. “It’s not your business.”
I struggle, but she’s far stronger than me. “Dione, this is what she does! This is what she did with you too! Luna is an opportunistic predator who buys our loyalty with power, I know you know this!”
We reach the landing and Dione shoves me to the floor. “If you were loyal, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
The panic room is a gigantic black box with one-way windows so those inside can keep track of the intruder’s movements. It’s protected by the gleam-shield, a dome of yellow energy. In a demonstration video provided by the supplier there was a celestial who cast fire at the gleam-shield and it rebounded back at them so quickly they didn’t even have a chance to move. The Senator has mused about improving upon his grandfather’s legacy and upgrading the power-proof vest with similar protections so enforcers will be extra armored against gleam attacks. Dione reads the twenty-digit security code posted on the wall and types it into the keypad; I once had those numbers, or similar ones assuming they’ve been changed, memorized in the event I had to lock myself in the panic room. The shield drops and Dione opens the door.
“Go in or be thrown in,” she says.
“You’re making a big mistake,” I say as I pick myself up from the floor. “If you fail her she won’t even bother with you. Look at Stanton! She’s not even breaking him out! She will replace you like she’s trying to replace me!”
Dione doesn’t wait for me to go in peacefully. She grabs me by the wrist and throws me through the door and I roll into a couch. Someone gasps. She peeks in, stares at Eva, then slams the door behind her. In moments the gleam-shield is up and running again.
I massage the shoulder I landed on as I look up at my new roommates who are sitting together on one of the two beds. Emil’s mother, Carolina, looks exhausted and it’s possible—well, likely—that she’s been crying too. For the most part, she’s fine. Unlike Eva. Her brown skin seems paler, her hair is thinning on one side, she has a black eye the size of my fist, and there are bandages all over her arms. It’s like she’s been strung up like a punching bag, which is something we did once with a former chief enforcer who didn’t get the memo that no one messes with Luna’s Casters; here’s hoping we can get Eva out of here before she finds a wand to her head like the chief did.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Eva sits up. “Do we look okay?”
I don’t say anything. No need for my stupid answer after my stupid question.
“Why are you locked away with us?” Eva asks.
“Everyone else is busy, so I needed a babysitter. Was Dione this terrible back when you were both friends?”
Eva shakes her head. “She used to be my favorite person.”
Carolina comes and kneels beside me, taking my hands in hers. “Please tell me that my boys are okay.”
“I was hoping you could tell me. I’ve been cut off from all live news since the invasion at Nova.”
“Everyone made it out,” Carolina says.
I get a recap on everything major that happened while I was busy reuniting with the Senator. The Spell Walkers took on the Blood Casters. Luna stabbed Emil with an infinity-ender dagger, and then Brighton showed up and shot her in the stomach with a spell before drinking the Reaper’s Blood. But apparently the elixir didn’t make him immortal, and he’s likely going to die. Emil is still alive too, as far as they know. Take the wins when you get them, and that’s a big win in my book.
“We don’t know anything else,” Carolina says.
“If there had been any mention of Emil or Brighton or any Spell Walker dying, I’m sure the Senator would’ve thrown a party.”
Framing the deaths of her sons as cause of celebration doesn’t help her mood. She releases my hands and sits on the couch. I join her. How relaxed Carolina is around me releases a lot of tension.
“I regret my last words to Brighton,” Carolina says. “I called him ‘high and mighty’ for choosing those powers, and now I may never get to tell him how much I love him.”
“He wasn’t kind to you either,” Eva says. “He’s got to be regretting his words too.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
Carolina doesn’t meet my eyes. “That his father was the better parent. I often think that’s true, but I’ve been trying my best.”
“I’m sure your best has been great,” I say.
Brighton doesn’t know how great he’s got it. I would kill to have my mom back instead of being left with a man who is using me to ruin the country.
This is the first time in days I don’t feel watched. Not by Jax from outside my room or from Zenon wherever he is within the manor. My life for the past few years has been putting on all these metaphorical masks and some literal ones the past few months. The last time I’ve really let down my guard was when I was around Emil, and he caught me in a vulnerable moment where I had morphed into one of my victims. I think about him as I inhale a deep breath with my eyes closed and embrace this peace.
Eva snaps her fingers. Peace killed. “What were you talking about with Dione? You’re being replaced?”
“Apparently,” I say. “The Cloaked Phantom hits the sky tonight.”
“Which constellation is that one again?” Carolina asks.
“Not as epic as the Crowned Dreamer,” Eva says. “But it was one my mother admired because this constellation invites change. Sort of like the beginning of a new year. It’s also really important to any celestials who can shift . . . and now apparently anyone looking to become a specter who can shift too.”
She can judge me all she wants; she doesn’t know me. “I would undo everything if I knew I was going to end up here again. All the propaganda I’ve been filming to build Iron’s case against gleamcrafters will be some other specter’s problem soon.”
“Will they keep you down here with us?” Carolina asks.
I shrug. “Probably not. It’s a lot smarter to throw me out of a helicopter and into some basilisk-infested waters. Good way to get rid of someone who’s supposed to be dead.”
Carolina rubs my shoulder. “I’m sure that won’t be the case. You’re his son.”
I see where Emil gets his sweetness from. I don’t need to tell her that the Blackout existed so I could be killed.
“I’m sorry we never got to properly meet before this,” I say.
“Me too. You must mean something to Emil given how much he wanted to defend you.”
“I think Emil would’ve done that for anyone. You raised him right. I swear I’ll do everything I can to get you back to him in one piece. No one’s harmed you, right?”
Her voice shakes before she can fully form her first words. “Senator Iron demanded that Eva heal his bruised-up bodyguard and when I defended her Dione struck me. Eva healed him and took care of me too after they all left.”
I don’t know how I’m going to do it but I’ll make sure Dione and Jax feel double the pain they put Eva and Carolina through.
Eva massages one of her bandages. “Healing is becoming harder. I haven’t been under the stars in however many nights we’ve been trapped here and Luna keeps draining my blood, even though she’s okay.”
Her own sickness. Luna is probably mixing some potion to try and buy herself more time.
“I haven’t been apart this long from Iris since we met,” Eva says. “I’m not making it back to her.”
She states it like a fact. I understand her in my own way.
“How’d you meet?” I ask.
Eva hesitates, but gives in. “Alchemists were hunting me for obvious reasons,” she says, gesturing at her whole body. “My foster family couldn’t protect me. I’ve always avoided violence, but I needed the Spell Walkers. Iris’s mother, Finola, answered our call for help. She brought me into their haven and introduced me to Iris.”
“Love at first sight?” I ask.
“No, not at all. It was better. Iris brought me a change of clothes and
we talked until the sun came up, even though I was exhausted after weeks of never being able to get a full night’s sleep.” Eva is crying and I’m about to grab her some tissues when she continues. “Iris told me this story about how her parents took her to see the Moon Belle constellation when she was ten. Finola bought her a shirt off the street, but Iris didn’t get to try it on beforehand. It was a perfect fit, and I couldn’t help but feel like Iris was talking about us too. We fit, and I feel naked without her right now.”
Carolina gets up and drapes a shivering Eva with a blanket around her shoulders and the kind of hug that makes me miss Mom even more. Then she turns to me. “Do you feel this way about my son?”
I’m so thrown off by the question; then I realize this is coming from a woman who understands she may never get to see her children grow into full adults who choose to have partners and start families. I don’t know anything about Emil’s dating history though I bet he had tons of guys attracted to him.
“I wouldn’t say I feel naked without him,” I admit. “But I feel cold without him. If that makes sense. It’s like someone finally let me out into the sun and I was so into how warm it made me feel. But then I was forced back inside and I regret how much I sat around instead of actually embracing the day.”
I would do things differently with Emil. I didn’t kiss him when I left Nova or when I came back to save him. Kissing when a literal war is breaking out never comes to mind. If the stars cross for us again, I’ll give it my all.
“He’s the best person I know, and I haven’t even known him that long,” I say.
“That’s my son,” Carolina says proudly. “Ever since he was young Emil always wanted to make someone feel better. I didn’t know until his teacher told me, but in sixth grade Emil wouldn’t play with Brighton and their friends during recess because he was comforting a girl who had lost her sister. The boys were always close, but it only made them closer because Emil was so scared of losing Brighton too.” Now she’s crying. We have no idea if Emil and Brighton are dead or if one is alive and missing the other. Both thoughts are devastating. “When we lost Leo, Emil managed to hold on to his warmth. He fought so much to keep it together for us. My hero. Whenever he would give into his grief, the warmth would come back.”
I chuckle, thinking about how Emil is true to his firefly nature. “Funny, I have a nickname for him and—”
The buzzing of the gleam-shield goes quiet and the door opens. Dione enters with Zenon behind her. But he’s supposed to be gone.
“Storytime is over,” Dione says. She turns to Zenon. “Do we have enough?”
“Should do the trick,” Zenon says.
I stand. “You’re not even supposed to be here!”
Dione stands behind Eva and Carolina. Her expression is mostly menacing, which always feels for show, but there’s a hint of a conscience like when she hit pause on our mission to give some cash to a celestial whose eyes had been gouged out by some gleamphobic hunter. “We needed you to get up close and personal, Ness. How else are you going to play the roles if you don’t understand your subjects?”
Play the roles? Then it hits me. “No, I will do everything else, I will keep making up fake people, but you can’t make me impersonate them—”
“Shut up!” Dione shouts as her eyes glow and two extra sets of arms grow out of her sides. She chokes Eva and Carolina and pins down their hands. “You will become them or you will watch me rip them apart.”
I hold up my hands in truce. “Let them go.”
Dione releases them, and even though she has six hands she only uses one to drag me out by my wrist. I don’t even get a chance to apologize to Eva and Carolina.
I got played tonight—the manipulator manipulated. If the Senator’s team is still using me to morph into other people, then what’s the plan for the new specter with shifter blood? Just a new Blood Caster? That can’t be right. Any plan that Luna helps design runs deeper than new recruits.
For now, I’ve got to get ready to cause more damage while wearing the faces of two women who trusted me with their hearts.
Twenty
Dark Hearts
EMIL
It’s midnight when I sneak out of the cottage to see the stars. The Cloaked Phantom is high in the dark sky, its light reflecting across the sea. The prime constellation is shaped like an old-school theater mask with the sly eyes twinkling the brightest. I’m out here tonight for Ness, knowing this alignment of stars is the reason he has his powers in the first place. Powers that couldn’t keep him safe.
I head down to the beach, already wishing I brought a jacket with me. I keep my sneakers on since the sand is too cold, which would’ve been welcomed the couple times I’ve been out here with Prudencia during the day, but it’s too chilly right now. I flex my fingers, trying to tap into my gleam to keep warm, but just like when I was barely able to create a fire-orb to attack Stanton back at Aldebaran, all my wounds—the ones inflicted by Ness and Luna—burn so badly that I’m almost brought to tears.
It seems impossible to be a soldier in this war. I mean, check me out, I haven’t exactly been the most effective weapon in every battle.
Prudencia and I have had that exhausting conversation while out on the beach. I hate that I dragged her into this war, but I’m grateful she’s here, especially with Brighton mostly keeping to himself. Prudencia isn’t a soldier fully known to the public, but the Blood Casters must have pieced together her identity by now. She hasn’t said it out loud, and I doubt she ever would, but I think she’s worried her aunt, Maia, might meet the same fate as Ma. There’s a lot of love lost from how gleamphobic Maia is, but Prudencia still cares.
Footsteps are shuffling in the sand behind me, and I spin around, nervous that an enforcer or Blood Caster has tracked us down. I’m ready to try and cast fire as if my life depends on it, but it’s only Brighton. I’m not ruling out that he might be coming to swing at me too. He sits beside me and looks up at the Cloaked Phantom. Days ago he was glowing under the Crowned Dreamer, primed to become an unstoppable specter.
“Screw these constellations,” Brighton breathes out.
He’s pissed at something that was never for him. These prime constellations exist for celestials. For every branch of power out there, a lot of savants can trace its origins back to constellations. I’m definitely not an expert on them, but when I was younger the Feathered Figure constellation took to the sky and elevated all flying powers.
“They can actually be positive forces for celestials,” I say, remembering how jaw-dropping it was to see so many celestials flying through the air that evening.
“But not specters like us,” Brighton says, rubbing his left hand against his leg to warm up while his poisoned arm is wrapped up again in the cocoon cast. “Specters like you.” I think he’ll die before he understands how lucky he is that he’s not a specter. “I wouldn’t have gone for the Reaper’s Blood if that gleam gene had just been activated in me. I don’t know why Abuelita’s psychic powers weren’t passed down through Ma, but I would’ve made good use of them.”
This imagined world does have its possibilities.
“You could’ve been some detective who gets visions about crimes and stops them from coming true,” I say.
“Sounds more like a TV show,” Brighton says. “You would probably be the hero who complains about being the hero for the entire series. But then at the end you’re grateful for the fight because it changed your life for the better. You win the war and you get the guy.”
I’m drawn to the Cloaked Phantom again as the gentle waves creep up on the sand. The splashing would usually soothe me, but it’s not cutting it for me tonight.
“Except I can’t get the guy when he’s dead,” I say. It’s clear I’m no longer talking about this TV show Brighton is dreaming up. Our lives aren’t someone’s entertainment, or aren’t supposed to be, at least.
“It’s not like you loved him,” Brighton says.
I’m shivering from the cold. “I don’t
have to love him to grieve him. Ness was important to me and we trusted each other. When we were under attack at Nova I was running around trying to find you because we had no idea you’d run off with Maribelle already. Ness risked his life posing as me to buy me more time. That’s when he got captured and . . .”
I stop because I don’t know what went down next. I don’t know much about what even came before, like his relationship with his mother before she was killed or his father before he became so consumed with power that he used Ness to spread hate. I wonder if he’s ever been involved with anyone romantically before or always single like me. I even want to know more about his transformation into a specter.
“There’s so much I’m never going to know about Ness,” I say. His story is going to remain some big mystery to me. And I’ll always wonder about what would’ve happened between us if we got away together.
“I feel the same way about Prudencia,” Brighton says.
“We’ve known her for four years,” I say.
“But not really. If she hid being a celestial, what else don’t we know about her? There’s got to be more to the story. What really happened that led to her parents being killed by enforcers? Her life at home with Maia. And did she date what’s-his-face, Dominic, because he was also a celestial? Did he know about her?”
The day Prudencia revealed her powers, she told me how her father was the only celestial between her parents, but I don’t have the answers to any of Brighton’s other questions. “Just ask her,” I say.
“What’s the point?” Brighton asks. “I’m dying and it’s not like I’m going to come back.”
“Maybe it’s not about you. Prudencia might open up to you if you’re doing it for yourself, not Celestials of New York.”
“Did she say that?”
I shake my head. I never press Prudencia about her feelings for Brighton. She kept to herself while she was dating Dominic too, and I always swore that was because she didn’t want to mess with Brighton’s head, but after everything this past month I guess she’s more private than we realized. “Bright, talk to her. Unlike Ness, Prudencia is alive. If you only have a few months left to live, do you really want to spend that time not being honest?”
