Infinity Reaper

by Adam Silvera

  “What? Don’t keep me in suspense, especially not after you ran off with my brother like I’m insignificant—”

  “I believe you can travel back in time.”

  Thirty-Three

  Reversing the Cycle

  EMIL

  The castle’s library is intimate, but I’d happily kick up my feet on the gray chaise for hours, or as Wyatt would put it, spread my ashes here.

  There are prints of different phoenixes above some knee-high bookcases, signaling the books that center on that particular breed. I stop in front of the century phoenix, grieving Gravesend, who won’t ever grow up to spread her wings as massively and proudly as this illustrated one. Tala opens the balcony doors and air blows in. There are a couple chairs outside, but there’s hardly any space to stretch with Nox and Roxana resting on the floor.

  Everyone is gathered around a wooden table already, but I’m lagging behind as I admire all these colorful spines of books with general information about caring for phoenixes. I could spend the rest of my life here reading up on phoenixkind, armed with the knowledge to try and save them. That’s not why we’ve been brought in here, so I grab a seat before Brighton can come down on me again for experiencing a second of leisure. There’s a chandelier with beak-shaped bulbs and the light is casting over seven volumes of The Firebird Compendium. Wyatt is flipping through the pages of an eighth volume.

  “Share your theory,” Tala says as she sits on the back of Maribelle’s chair.

  “I’m finding the page I need for a smoother presentation,” Wyatt says. “I’d hate to disrupt the flow once we get these wings flapping because—aha!” He murmurs the text to himself while nodding along. “Marvelous. Emil, sweet Emil, when discussing the range of your powers it got me thinking. A phoenix’s most beautiful talent is rebirth, and we didn’t know specters to be privileged with that ability until we met you.”

  I hadn’t directly considered resurrection as a privilege. There are so many people who have died ahead of their times—Dad, Atlas—and yet I’m the one whose soul has been brought back twice already. For all we know, I’m the first and only specter who experiences this. Will this work for Maribelle since she’s also part-celestial? Will it work for Brighton since his grand set of powers are technically incomplete? What about my enemies like Orton? Has he already been reborn as an infant and will grow up with the memories of our feud?

  For the infinitieth time, I want out of this cycle.

  “So what’s the deal?” I ask.

  Brighton leans forward. “Wyatt thinks we can go back in—”

  “Buh, buh, buh, buh!” Wyatt shakes his finger. “You didn’t take kindly to my ‘low-budget science-fiction-movie rip-off’ but that doesn’t mean you can rob me of my dramatics.” He shifts his attention back to me. “I was wondering perhaps if we could repair your memories and almost overlooked how phoenixes don’t always return with their previous life’s memories. That doesn’t mean they’re lost forever. It simply requires more of a journey.”

  “A journey back through time,” Brighton says. “He thinks we can go back in time.”

  Wyatt’s jaw drops. “You bastard.”

  Brighton smirks.

  I’m not making the connection. “I’m sorry. What? How are we time-traveling?”

  “Don’t frame it too literally. Unlike your brother’s accusation, this won’t run the narrative of standard time-travel movies that come with a bunch of rules about not bumping into your past self or even so much as moving a single rock without changing the course of history.” Wyatt sits on the table beside me with the book in his lap. “You see, phoenixes need history. When they resurrect they are carrying their past lives with them through time, but they can move backward if they desire—it’s known as retrocycling. It’s a necessary function for phoenixes whose memories have been fractured, such as yours, to return through their past lives and gather the wisdom they need to avoid repeating mistakes. If phoenixes can retrocycle, I don’t see why you can’t travel through your own bloodlines.”

  I always thought the memories of my past lives were lost in time. I’ve read up a little on phoenixes retrocycling, but that’s not something I thought I could pull off. After the Halo Knights were killed at the museum and Kirk was giving up Gravesend to turn me into some science experiment, he was speculating if I could slip into my previous lives. Luna didn’t answer his question. I’m not sure if she even knows herself if this is possible for phoenix specters.

  “You think I can work my way back through Bautista’s life?”

  “Perhaps. Then you can see for yourself what Bautista and Sera were planning with their power-binding potion.”

  Assuming any of this is legit, my life grows more and more surreal. There’s a chance I can transport myself to the past and become one with Bautista? I really can’t believe this. I turn and Brighton seems to believe it just fine. Envy is written all over his face.

  “What about me?” Brighton asks. “And Maribelle. You said this would affect all of us, but we don’t have past lives like Emil.”

  “Of course you doubt reincarnation,” Tala says before Wyatt can speak. “And you continue to know nothing about the blood of the creature within you.”

  “A phoenix has two bloodlines,” Wyatt gently says. “The first tracing back to their family. The second flowing infinitely from their personal life cycle. If my theory holds any weight, there will be opportunities for Brighton and Maribelle to retrocycle too through their familial bloodlines.”

  Maribelle’s face lights up for the first time in ages, but a shadow seems to come over her as quickly. “I . . . I can’t see Mama and Papa. Only Bautista and Sera.”

  “You can see Aurora and Lestor,” Brighton says. “But I’m guessing they would have to be around Bautista and Sera. Shouldn’t be too hard since they were all original Spell Walkers.” A smile is creeping up on him. “I can see Dad with my power.”

  Much like Maribelle, I’m taken aback. I was on the edge of a thought of which moments in the past I’d love to reexperience with Dad, when I remember that even though he’s my father we’re not linked by blood. If this war ever settles and I get the time I need to process every ounce of trauma, I’d like to imagine myself finding peace over being secretly adopted sooner rather than later. But the goalpost seems to move further and further away any time the world reminds me that I was living a lie for eighteen years.

  I bet I’ve got that same envious expression that Brighton had moments ago.

  Then it hits me.

  “Can Brighton only go back through the bloodline of someone if they’re dead?” I ask.

  “I believe so,” Wyatt says. “The idea is you’re connecting to other lives to aid the one you have.”

  I turn to Brighton. “So you could try to retrocycle to Ma. That’ll tell us whether or not—”

  “She’s alive or dead,” Brighton says, talking over me as if it’s his idea.

  I hope to everything that Brighton can’t experience Ma’s history.

  “I’m so confused,” Prudencia says. I’m realizing she’s the only celestial in a room with Halo Knights and phoenix specters talking about past lives. “How do Halo Knights even know about a phoenix’s process of retrocycling? I take it a phoenix didn’t come back from their trip from the past and tell you about their vacation.”

  Wyatt shakes the book in the air. “My moment has come!” He opens to the page he bookmarked earlier. “Storytime, gentlepeople.”

  Two centuries ago, when the Halo Knights were forming to combat injustices against phoenixes, insights were passed from one to the next to create a codex on how best to serve the firebirds. In those early days, there were many accounts of phoenixes inexplicably hibernating within their own fires. For some, hibernation lasted a day while others stretched for weeks. Each time the Haloes believed the phoenixes were preparing for their deaths, but the phoenixes in all cases were coming back smarter and stronger. A historian, Elodie Badeaux, traveled the world to explore this ph
enomenon.

  I almost lose focus daydreaming about the life Elodie got to live and wishing it were my own, but I know good and well that I would’ve never been able to crack this code. Thankfully she was at the top of her game, interviewing all the Haloes about the specific differences in the phoenixes before and after hibernation. In one case, a sky swimmer in its sixth life seemed to have forgotten how to swim; then when she woke up after three days, she sped toward the ocean and gleefully dove in and chased dolphins. Elsewhere, a song-rook, best known for their ability to regenerate body parts, was victim to a hunter’s bird trap and lost his foot, and as the phoenix surrounded himself in his violet flames, his Halo companion said his farewells. Hours later the song-rook woke up from hibernation and immediately regrew his foot, to the grieving Halo’s relief.

  “. . . these examples and more suggested that the phoenixes were tapping into their past lives to strengthen their present ones,” Wyatt says as he closes the book. “This is a power that always exists in them. It’s as instinctive as learning how to fly and as primal as breathing. Should a phoenix sense their muscle memory is off, they can simply go back in the past to remember it. Fascinating, yeah?”

  “I witnessed this firsthand with Roxana,” Tala says. “I was seven, and a boy in my training circle called her damaged because Roxana wasn’t casting any thunderstorms after her most recent resurrection. I punched him in the nose.”

  “Of course you did,” Brighton says.

  “Care for a reenactment?” Tala asks.

  Who would blame her at this point? Between Brighton shouting at Iris, who can literally rip his arms off—and happily rip them off again if they regrew—and now running his mouth to Tala, who’s pissed at him for having phoenix blood, he can’t keep his attitude together.

  Tala turns away from him. “One evening, Roxana set her nest on fire and went to sleep. She didn’t wake up the next morning, and I cried every night that followed, swearing I’d cared for her wrong. It was the most painful month of my life. And then she woke up. The sky thundered, and I danced in her downpour.” This is the first time I’m seeing Tala beam as she watches Roxana. There’s so much love there. I’m sure that month Tala believed her to be dead must’ve been unimaginable suffering.

  “Similar situation with Nox,” Wyatt says. “Two lives ago he was tracking a wounded phoenix in a forest and his senses couldn’t have been more off. To this day I would put down ten pounds that he was only guessing. Then Nox stopped and began hibernating. I was familiar with retrocycling, but to see it in action was astonishing. I could’ve done without fending for myself in a forest for three nights, but Nox woke up and it took mere minutes to find the common ivory in a cave.”

  Wyatt is very proud of Nox too. His smile can light up the sun.

  “How does this work for humans?” I ask. “Do we try and retrocycle in our sleep or something?”

  “Here’s where the guesswork begins. Tragically for you all there is no flame to light your path. Perhaps it happens in your sleep or you meditate or set yourself on fire or dance naked under the sun. I personally fancy the naked dancing experiment,” Wyatt says as he looks me in the eye.

  I’m burning up. I’m definitely rocking a vibe from Wyatt as I avoid his gaze. I don’t know if he’s super flirtatious with everyone or if he’s going for it with me, but Wyatt is certainly more direct than any of my encounters with Ness. I’ll never know what the deal was with Ness, but I always feel ridiculous even entertaining that someone as beautiful and brave as him would’ve been interested in someone like me. I’m probably imagining everything with Wyatt too.

  “This doesn’t serve me,” Maribelle says.

  “It might,” Tala says. “You don’t have control of your sensing power and that can make you a more lethal opponent to the Blood Casters. But only if you go straight to the source of your power.”

  Maribelle considers her words, but I wonder if that’s going to be enough for her.

  “Let’s get started,” Brighton says.

  “Slow your racehorse,” Wyatt says.

  “No, my mother’s life is on the line here.”

  “Absolutely, absolutely. I need some prep time to do some more research and decide on our best approach. I promise to share my findings by the morning at the absolute latest.”

  “What time should we come back?” I ask. I’m not sure where we’d even go since Iris doesn’t want us back at the cottage. Maybe we’ll sleep in the car.

  “You’re welcome to stay here. Two more guestrooms remain. I’ll bunk here in the library. Tala, you mind escorting them?”

  “Yes,” Tala says.

  “Thank you.”

  “You misunderstand. Yes, I do mind. I will work with them as long as this makes sense for phoenixkind, but I’m not putting mints on pillows or changing sheets,” Tala says. She goes out to the balcony and lies down beside Roxana.

  Wyatt leads the way himself, muttering about how much he’s loving how good we’re all getting on. There are two beds in each guestroom, and as much as I’d love to give Brighton and Prudencia some privacy, Maribelle makes it pretty clear she’s not welcoming me in her room when she closes the door behind her. Hanging out in a library all night sounds chill, but this simple room with a black-and-white portrait of a flying phoenix and a view of the first courtyard will do.

  “Until tomorrow,” Wyatt says, tipping an invisible hat. “Perhaps later this evening if the mood strikes.”

  I stupidly turn away from the window and Wyatt is straight staring at me with lust in his eyes. He winks before leaving us.

  Brighton laughs. “Oh, bro. That Halo Knight is hard for the Infinity Son.”

  “I don’t think it’s because he’s the Infinity Son,” Prudencia says. “Sorry, Emil, I’m not calling you that. Friend pass. But I do think Wyatt is interested.”

  “You should’ve taken him up earlier and ridden his phoenix,” Brighton says with suggestive eyebrows.

  Prudencia smacks him in the chest.

  “Bright, bigger matters at hand.”

  “I’m looking out for you! You’ve never even kissed a guy and there’s a Halo Knight with your favorite accent making a move on you.”

  On paper Wyatt is someone I should explore something with, I get that, but just because a phoenix-loving, handsome English guy might be into me doesn’t mean that Ness is kicked out of my head and heart. Ness gained my trust, time and time again, and that’s saying a lot considering he had multiple chances to kill me. He paid the ultimate price trying to save my life. The world grieved him after the Blackout, but I’m one of the few people who knows that he was still alive and now he’s dead for real because he wanted to save me. I got to honor Ness by making sure his father doesn’t become president. And to do that, I have to disempower the Blood Casters who are only supporting Senator Iron’s case that gleamcrafters are dangerous.

  I can’t undo their wrongs, but I can try to make things right.

  I have to go back to my last life to do good in this one.

  Thirty-Four

  Pawn to Queen

  NESS

  I’m in my bedroom dreaming up ways to beat the Senator.

  The first step is incapacitating Zenon, wherever he’s stationed in the manor, so he can’t sound some alarm if I manage to get past Jax and morph into someone else to escape. The polling numbers I last saw were favoring the Senator, and I’m sure he’s only gained more support since the propaganda videos, but if I can go live on national TV wearing the Senator’s face, I’ll own up to every single crime of his.

  No more White House. Straight to jail.

  There’s a gentle knock on my door and Luna slowly enters in a crimson cloak that contrasts her sickly white skin. It’s the first time I’m seeing her in the seven or eight days since she broke into the manor and built some arrangement with the Senator. She’s also alone without even June at her side.

  I could take her right now.

  Luna picks up an unlit candle from my bookcase and sme
lls it. “Eucalyptus. One of nature’s many deceptions. It invites you in with its smell but its oils are a welcomed touch to any poison.”

  “You lied to me,” I say, cutting to the point.

  “When?”

  Her question is genuine. She has trusted me with her life, with her pursuit for immortality, and who knows how many times she’s lied to me.

  “About the Senator,” I say.

  “You not asking the right questions isn’t my fault.”

  “Would you have told the truth?”

  “It’s best to hold one’s cards to one’s chest until it’s necessary. You were already more than willing to work for me—to work against your father.” Luna sits beside me on my bed, bringing me back to the days when she first took me in and cared for me. “Besides, your betrayal proves why I was wise to keep secrets from you. There are many Blood Casters spread across the country, but the few I keep at my side are the ones I trust the most. The things I’ve asked of you could land me in prison, make me a target, but I asked them of you because it was important, because I believed in you.”

  There’s a softness to her voice, like a mother trying to get her child to understand something very important without yelling.

  The day of the Blackout, after June saved me and brought me to one of Luna’s hideaway homes, Luna surprised me with lulling words of second chances. I didn’t see it back then, but she was manipulating me into talking about my struggles with the Senator. She set herself up as the trusted ally who would keep me safe if I worked for her. Even though it meant risking my life to become a specter. It wasn’t an easy decision, and the Cloaked Phantom was rapidly approaching. But it felt like a sign when Luna obtained a shifter wounded by a hunter, and Luna told me the poor creature could live on in spirit if I fused its blood with mine. I agreed and drank the potion thinking my new life would be better, thinking I could trust this woman who nursed me back to life with tonics when my body was dangerously morphing against my will.