by Adam Silvera
“A friend,” Prudencia says.
“Well, hello, friend.” Wyatt turns to Maribelle with a hand on his heart. “You’re Maribelle Lucero. My condolences. May Atlas’s winds blow again in another life.”
Tala allows his sympathy to sink in for a moment before pointing her finger at me. “Wyatt, that isn’t just Emil Rey—he was also Bautista de León and Keon Máximo. Everything we have feared about phoenix specters is true. They can be reborn and he’s the mastermind behind it all!”
I brace myself for Wyatt’s kindness to shift to violence but he’s still as a statue.
“I was reborn into this, but I don’t have any of Bautista’s or Keon’s memories. I swear I’m my own person and I don’t want to be a specter. I have a journal that belonged to Maribelle’s parents, Bautista and Sera, and I’m trying to complete their work on a power-binding potion. I want this cycle to end with me.”
“Wait one second.” Wyatt looks between me and Maribelle. “Maribelle, I thought your parents were two of the Spell Walkers that died during the Blackout. And Emil, you look nothing like Bautista or Keon but you’re somehow Maribelle’s father?”
“Bautista and Sera are my biological parents, but Aurora and Lestor Lucero raised me. Emil isn’t my father,” Maribelle says.
“But he technically is, yeah?” Wyatt replies. “His past life gave you yours. But what does that make you? I thought you were a celestial.”
Maribelle’s left eye burns like an eclipse and the right glows like sailing comets. Dark yellow flames encircle her fists. “I’m a hybrid.”
“Didn’t have to demonstrate; I would’ve believed you,” Wyatt says as he digs inside his satchel and withdraws a logbook. “That said, this is all a lot.” He mutters as he takes notes. “Emil is Maribelle’s father, but not really. . . . Specters with phoenix blood can come back to life but apparently as new people. . . . Celestials and specters can procreate. . . . Oof . . .”
I keep my eyes on Tala the entire time in case she’s feeling trigger-happy while Wyatt is writing away as if this has been a chill environment before his arrival.
“Did I miss anything?” Wyatt asks.
“The power-binding potion,” I say.
“Aha! You’ll make a fine assistant back at the Sanctuary,” Wyatt says.
Tala looks like she might fire an arrow straight between Wyatt’s blue eyes. “You’re clearly still lacking oxygen from your flight over if you think we’re bringing specters onto any of our sacred bases.”
Wyatt puts away his logbook. “Tala, please. We have more to gain as Haloes by learning from them than by avenging our fallen companions. Think of all the people who won’t bother harming phoenixes if the authorities have a potion that can prevent them from using their powers. It’s especially critical if word gets out that specters can resurrect if they possess phoenix blood. Crest will want word on this.”
I don’t know who Crest is, but Tala doesn’t argue any further.
“It’s best if we go sooner rather than later since you and Roxana have caught the city’s attention,” Wyatt says with a raised eyebrow. Something tells me this isn’t the first time Tala has done her own thing. “The New Ember Sanctuary is located in Storm King State Park. Beautiful scenery all around, prepare your hearts.” Wyatt hops onto Nox. “Care to go for a ride, Emil? I’d love to pick your brain further.”
It’s tempting to ride a phoenix, but I’m not flying away with some stranger. “I’m going to stick with my people.”
“Suit yourself. Safe journeys, everyone.” Wyatt strokes Nox’s neck and the phoenix spreads his magnificent wings. They shoot across the blue sky like a shadowy star.
I watch the Halo Knight take off, envying his closeness with a beautiful phoenix.
Out of all of my lives, I wish one had been more like his.
Twenty-Nine
Impersonate
NESS
Since being locked in the panic room two days ago, I’ve been forced to memorize new lines in advance of my interviews where I’ll be posing as Carolina and Eva. Roslyn gives me her latest script and I can’t believe the big news that’s being dropped here: Brighton revealed last night online that he has powers. It’s not clear from these sides which ones, but I care more about the fact that Emil is seen alive and well too. If I can get back downstairs, I can report that news to their mother. I can barely focus, so relieved that Emil is okay, and honestly, a little grateful that his brother is packing powers to help keep him alive since I can’t trust Emil to take care of himself.
I’m on my bed, almost done memorizing the pages, when the slow knock I’ve grown up with catches my attention. The Senator has returned and he doesn’t look like himself. His thick glasses don’t hide the deep shadows underneath his reddened eyes. He’s lost noticeable weight in his cheeks and the public will be sure to scrutinize what that means for him.
“You look like hell.”
“Campaigning to be the leader of the free world isn’t without its sacrifices,” the Senator says. I expect some comment about how he tried to do away with me to further his goals, but he doesn’t seem to have that snideness in him at the moment.
“Sounds like you’ve got some more competition out there.”
“The Infinity Kings? Another threat we’ll neutralize.”
I’m sure Brighton came up with that name. I hope there’s truth behind it.
“I trust you’re prepared for your interviews,” the Senator says.
“Just about got the new lies memorized.”
“If you don’t sell those lies as truth we will kill those women right in front of you.”
“Then you’ll lose your leverage against me.”
The Senator smirks. “You can’t possibly believe that we’re relying solely on their lives to get you to cooperate.”
I don’t know if he’s playing mind games with me, but the threats while I do his dirty work are really pissing me off. “I said I got this! Unless you’re here to run lines with me, back off.”
Jax appears in the doorway with his hand raised as if he’s going to have to telekinetically restrain me. I stay seated on my bed.
The Senator doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated. “I am here to let you know that we’ve secured the Silver Star Slayer for the interview with a set of pre-approved questions. He’s a tremendous supporter of mine and giving him this spotlight will increase a platform that has been very generous toward our cause.”
The Silver Star Slayer is a deranged vlogger. He’s always red in the face as he explodes with conspiracy theories such as an airplane that went missing because it was swallowed up by a prime constellation. The first video I watched of his in full was about the Blackout. He claimed that the brawl between the Spell Walkers was the result of Aurora Lucero discovering an affair between her husband, Lestor, and Finola Simone-Chambers. He had shared all these pictures of Lestor and Finola close during battle to support his theory of how much they can’t live without each other.
“You should do him a favor and send him to a psychiatrist instead,” I say.
“That wouldn’t serve me,” the Senator says.
It wouldn’t. The Silver Star Slayer will always be outspoken against anything a gleamcrafter does. A celestial on a plane was once praised for teleporting into the pilot’s cabin to save the captain, who was having a seizure, and the Silver Star Slayer posted a whole video about how vulnerable all passengers are on a plane when a celestial can take over as quick as a snap. He absolutely hates the Spell Walkers, always blaming them for the destruction to public property when they’re fighting for their lives or saving others.
“Be ready in thirty,” the Senator says.
“I know Luna was busy during the Cloaked Phantom,” I say before he can leave. “What are you going to do with me when it’s time to swap me out with my replacement?”
The Senator stops at the door. “That will depend on your performances moving forward, Eduardo. We can either write you back into the show, or we can wri
te you out for good.”
The attic has been redone for the interview. The walls and windows have been blanketed to avoid anyone recognizing this space from the many photos available of the manor online. I know from the scripts that when speaking as Eva and Carolina that I won’t be disclosing where we’re supposed to be, and the Silver Star Slayer will be signing one hell of an NDA. Not that it seems necessary with the way he’s fawning over the Senator in the hallway.
“Time to suit up,” Roslyn says after she’s finished setting up the camera and the ring light.
I morph into Eva—my brown skin lightening, hair growing longer with a patch where Eva has been pulling too much, beauty marks appearing on my cheeks, eyelashes extending—and I shrink a little into the chair.
“Don’t worry about the black eye,” Roslyn says as I’m in the middle of building in all her bruises. She holds up a tablet where she’s video-chatting with Dione, who’s downstairs in the panic room with Eva and Carolina. Roslyn compares my features with Eva, who looks terrified beside her four-armed former best friend. “Lose a little more hair.”
“I got it right,” I say. I look more groomed than Eva since I’m not supposed to appear as if I’ve been locked away for a week.
“The dramatics will benefit us. If you’d like, I’m sure Dione will rip out more hair to make it true.”
I do as she asks, reminding myself that her time will come.
“Stick to the script,” she says before calling, “We’re ready!”
I keep my hands folded in my lap. I’m not familiar enough with Eva’s composure when she’s relaxed, having only spent intimate time with her when she was stressed and crying, but I’m hoping that I can sell this to the Senator’s team and signal Iris that something is off about her girlfriend.
The Senator escorts the Silver Star Slayer inside, a white man in his early thirties with a navy tie over his hideous lime-green shirt that looks like it might glow in the dark. He has auburn hair and brown eyes that already hate the celestial he sees sitting before him. He approaches me cautiously, as if he suspects Eva’s healing power is somehow violent.
“Russell, this is Eva,” the Senator introduces.
I get up to shake his hand, hiding my amusement when he steps back. The Senator assures Russell that he’s safe and reminds him that Jax is right outside should anything happen. It’s so pathetic watching Russell put on a brave face to impress the Senator when I remember how many years I was guilty of that same crime.
I want to believe that people can stop falling for obvious lies, but the truth is that some of them aren’t even being fooled.
“Hello,” Russell greets awkwardly as he settles in across from me.
The first time I met celestials as a kid I was tense like this too, swearing that someone might melt my insides with a single stare or control my mind to commit crimes. I truly believed that people with powers were all dangerous and that the laws so many worked hard to put in place were to protect people like me. It took too long to figure out that this wasn’t ever about security and always about dominating.
“Thanks for taking the time,” I say, programmed from my days with the media.
Russell nods and signals for Roslyn to begin filming. I’m sure he’s eager to move on to Carolina, who can’t hurt him. He turns to the camera with his chest proud, body language as big of a liar as he is. “Today’s interviews are being filmed from a discreet location to protect the whereabouts of my guests. First up as you’ll see here is Eva Nafisi, who was brought to our attention last month when she was featured in Brighton Rey’s series about the Spell Walkers. But lately she has had a change of heart. What inspired this, Eva?”
“The Spell Walkers are crumbling,” I say, and it’s one of the honest things that will come out of my mouth—Eva’s mouth—in a web of lies. “There have been struggles for leadership, and secrets kept from one another, even a really big one from my girlfriend. Some trust can’t be healed.” I take the pause that Roslyn wrote in for me even though any Intro to Acting class will often encourage you to ignore the descriptions, but the only way I’m going to survive is to play by all their rules. “The Spell Walkers are my family. They took me in when I was running for my life, but I’m tired of being a target.”
“Who’s targeting you?”
“Gang leaders and alchemists have always wanted to make good use of my healing power. But I was recently taken hostage by the Blood Casters. A former best friend of mine, Dione, hurt me and forced me to use my power to save horrible people.” I take a deep breath, knowing the lies that come next. “Then I was saved by enforcers. They weren’t able to detain Dione, but they arrested some acolytes and have kept me somewhere safe for the past three days.”
There’s nothing about this statement that will draw any immediate attention. Nothing too specific about the incident and no details shared about the acolytes’ identities or the prisons they would’ve been sent to if these were real accounts. I’m counting on Iris and the Spell Walkers to know better and dig deeper than everyone else who will accept this as fact.
“Have you reached out to anyone?” Russell asks.
I shake my head. “I tried reaching out to Iris, but she’d already vacated the hospital. It might be for the best until this all blows over. I love Iris, but I’m starting to question if we fit as well as this T-shirt her mother bought her. She leads people into battle with her powerhouse strength, and I’m this pacifist who heals them all after. I think I need to find my own way.”
“What will you do?”
“I plan on donating some blood to a medical center I can’t name. If I can help create some breakthroughs to heal patients with my blood, I’ll be a hero in a way that’s more me.”
“It’s certainly better than healing terrorists,” Russell says with the most aggression in his voice of this entire interview. That line wasn’t scripted. I choke on a response and ultimately say nothing. He grins. “Thank you for your time, Eva.”
“Cut,” Roslyn says. “Wonderful job, you two. Russell, we’ll need a few moments to escort Ms. Nafisi out of here and bring in Mrs. Rey, but I believe the senator is wanting to show you his personal office.”
Russell’s trying so hard to hold back his smile and play it cool. No matter how much I hate it, the Senator is a hero to many. The Russells of the world are so ready to vote him into office. It makes me sick.
Once they walk out, I glow in gray light and become myself again. “That comment wasn’t preapproved.”
“Not to you,” Roslyn says. “I asked Russell to sneak that one in. Who doesn’t love a little improv?”
If she were my friend or anyone I was even one-thousandth interested in getting to know, I would share that improv was my least favorite part about acting, no matter how useful it’s been to adapt to all situations as a specter with infinite faces. My instinct to not say anything when Russell challenged me seems to have played right into Roslyn’s hopes. They’ll now be able to broadcast Eva’s guilty expression as she didn’t negate the Spell Walkers being terrorists.
“Get dressed,” Roslyn says.
Gray light washes over me again. Dark hair with gray streaks, kind eyes, arms that lovingly hugged Eva, hands that were once used to nurture the best person I’ve ever met. One look in the camera and I’m so perfectly Carolina Rey that even she would confuse me for her reflection.
I hate the words they’re going to make me say.
A few minutes later, the Senator and Russell return. The Silver Star Slayer definitely has on his big boy pants this time as he mistakes me for a powerless mother. He doesn’t look me in the eye as he shakes my hand and I’m tempted to snap his wrist. Instead I soften my demeanor and express gratitude even though all I can think about is how he’ll get what’s coming to him one day. There’s no way that Brighton won’t use his new powers against the Silver Star Slayer; I wouldn’t mind watching that video.
The cameras begin rolling.
“My next guest doesn’t have any powers
herself, but her children do. Last night your sons uploaded a video threatening those who get in their way,” Russell says. No one showed me the livestream, but I doubt there were threats. “Brighton has abused his platform to spread misinformation about the Spell Walkers, claiming they’re good. It’s always been clear to me that he’s very troubled, but I’ll admit to being surprised about Emil. What darkness possessed him to become a specter?”
“It’s complicated,” I say, which is true in ways that the Senator and his team don’t even understand. “What you have to understand is that my boys have been through a lot this past year after losing their father.”
If Emil and Brighton watch this, I wonder if they’ll assume their mother is leaving out the obvious details to protect them. I have no idea if the Senator has been clued in to the resurrection revelations, but I would hate for Luna to weaponize that against Emil.
“Grief doesn’t give someone authority over others,” Russell says. “Do you not see the value in trusting our government?”
I know the response I’m supposed to say, but I pause. The Senator can’t be trusted with this country. I’m ready to rat him out, to transform back into myself because I don’t give a damn if they have to kill Russell to protect my secret. It’s not as if he’s a source of good in this world. Roslyn holds up the tablet and Dione is choking Carolina. Russell only lives to see another day because I want Carolina to be able to.
“The government deserves our trust,” I lie.
I stay in character the rest of the interview, echoing the lie that Carolina was also rescued by the government, sharing the story about Emil to illustrate what a kind soul he was before he chose the specter life, going on about seeking attention in a private center for heart complications, and the charges Carolina may face if she doesn’t cooperate with the authorities.
“One last question,” Russell says. “If you could send a message to your sons right now, what would you tell them?”
