Infinity Reaper

by Adam Silvera

  Ash’s eyes glow silver like coins and there are wrinkles in the air. I’m suddenly exhausted, and my rapid heartbeat has slowed down. This is his power to manipulate consciousness at work, and I welcome it. Dione’s arms have fallen to her sides, and I might pass out any moment. Then my morph will drop, my identity will be revealed, and they can take me into custody so we can expose the Senator as the fraud and terrorist he is.

  June fades away and reappears behind Ash. I try to shout, but I don’t have the energy as Ash continues to induce me into sleep. June steps inside the congresswoman’s husband, possessing him instantly. The wrinkles in the air even out as June forces Ash to yank his daughter to his side.

  Inside Ash’s body, June opens his mouth and there are no words. Only the sounds of howling winds that chill me to the bone.

  “He’s possessed,” I say. This reminds me of when Emil tried warning the Halo Knights at the museum that June had possessed one of their own, and Luna smacked him. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Sunstar looks as if she wants to fill this room with burning light, but she stands still. Sudden movements don’t end well for celestials.

  I still feel drowsy, but it passes shortly, like in the morning when you manage to finally get yourself out of bed.

  “Please don’t hurt my family,” Sunstar says.

  “We won’t if you cooperate,” I say, even though I don’t fully believe that’s true.

  “You’ll be coming with me,” Dione says.

  “I’m supposed to be onstage in minutes. The authorities will know I’m missing.”

  “No, they won’t,” Dione says, gesturing to me with all three arms.

  I remove the shades as gray light washes over me. My skin smooths and darkens. My hair grows to my shoulders. My nails turn white. My black bodyguard outfit is replaced with the same dark green suit Sunstar wore for her campaign visit in North Carolina.

  The real Sunstar looks at me in horror.

  “Problem solved,” Dione says. “We can’t impersonate all of you, so your husband and daughter’s survival depends on their performances during the debate. We have people in the audience tasked with watching them. If they don’t appear supportive or even so much as speak to anyone else, they will be killed on the spot.”

  Sunstar nods. “Proxy, baby, do everything they say, okay?”

  Proxima is shaking, even after June steps backward outside of Ash. Ash hugs Proxima, scaring her at first, but assuring her that it’s him. Dione and June grab Sunstar, who is staring at her family, unsure if she’ll ever see them again.

  I don’t know if she will either.

  “We have eyes on you in here too,” Dione says. “Do the right thing and support your wife.”

  They all fade away, and for the first time since being held captive, I’m left alone in the outside world with good people. But I can’t let them know I’m on their side, no matter how scared they are. Zenon is watching us this very moment, and if I even so much as apologize for all the harm I’m about to cause their family, they may not live to see it.

  I’ll go onstage and debate the Senator with all the scripted lies I’ve memorized.

  I plan on sneaking out one great truth while on national TV.

  Fifty-Three

  The Debate

  NESS

  “Welcome to the third and final debate.”

  Tonight’s moderator is Hugh Cooper, a news personality who has been very critical of the Senator in the past and will hopefully challenge him tonight when I can’t—when Sunstar would. He explains that none of the questions for the segments have been shared with the candidates in advance. He requests silence from the audience throughout the evening so everyone present and watching from home can focus.

  “Please welcome the Democratic nominee, Congresswoman Sunstar, and the Republican nominee, Senator Iron.”

  I cross the stage, meeting the Senator in the middle for a handshake. He’s exuding so much confidence in his presidential suit, knowing this debate is in the bag. I’m tempted to drop this costume now and expose him, but when I turn to the crowd and find Ash holding Proxima close, I continue to cooperate instead for their well-being.

  The Senator and I take our places behind our podiums. There’s a notepad with three pens. Sunstar is a diligent notetaker, a behavior I’ll be expected to keep up. Darkness falls over the audience and there’s only a time clock that’s visible. It’s a small mercy so I don’t have to watch Proxima quivering anymore.

  “I’d like to start off this evening talking about the economy,” Hugh Cooper says. “In the last debate you both shared your views on the decline of available jobs, and I want to ask what you will do to ensure growth so those living in this country will thrive in it. Senator Iron, you’ll go first in this segment. You have two minutes.”

  “Thank you, Hugh, and thank you to Doherty University for graciously hosting us,” the Senator says, masking his disdain for this pro-celestial campus with a smile.

  He immediately talks about the great honor he’s had working alongside the laborers in New York and traveling to meet others across the country, expressing their heartbreak at spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on education only to find themselves shut out of dream jobs by celestials who can do the job in the snap of a finger. He cites one of our propaganda videos about a construction worker who can no longer support his family after being replaced by a celestial with advanced telekinesis.

  “Power shouldn’t come before passion,” the Senator says.

  “Thank you, Senator. I’d like to ask the same question of Congresswoman Sunstar. How will you improve the economy?”

  Sunstar’s plans to increase minimum wage and create higher taxes for the wealthy is a country I’d love to live in, but instead I work the lines written for me. How celestials should continue to invade markets outside of their interest and collect payments originally allotted for manual laborers. The Senator is quick to counter, right on cue, about how many Americans are in debt and without homes because of unavailable jobs.

  The gloves stay off from that point forward.

  On the topic of wand violence, the Senator defends everyone’s right to bear arms since he considers celestials to be walking weapons. For health care, the Senator deflects how many celestials aren’t insured because of their powers and instead advises for broader guidelines that would allow better coverage for properties damaged by gleam, and he completely doesn’t mention how that would suit his donors and raise taxes on everyone else. He dismisses the idea that underground camps have made their way into our country, designed to hold pregnant celestials hostage throughout their pregnancies to prevent the children being born under the skies and reaching the full potential of their powers.

  I’m not some bystander in the audience. I’m one of the two liars on this stage.

  I’ve been tasked with portraying Sunstar as someone who is cracking under the pressure of her campaign, especially in light of the Silver Star Slayer’s videos, and I argue back with an aggression that Sunstar hasn’t once demonstrated in any of her debates. When asked, I don’t condemn specters as a whole, stating that there are good, well-intentioned people who seek out power to further their lives, and I applaud the risks they take, especially those who are older, given how blood alchemy isn’t always kind to their bodies. I want to warn everyone, no matter their intentions, that becoming a specter isn’t worth it, but I’m too busy not offering sympathies as requested by the Senator to those who have lost their children because of gleam cross fires.

  I can’t imagine that the celestials currently holding seats in government aren’t cringing during this entire debate. Maybe some of them will even be suspicious, having worked with Sunstar and shared her views for how she would shape the country. But between the Senator presenting himself as a grounded candidate who will be remembered as strong and me fighting back—sure to get Sunstar labeled as unhinged—it’s impossible to believe anyone will expect anything except the Senator taking the White Hous
e next month.

  Hugh Cooper regains control. “We’re wrapping up shortly, so I’d like to shift and ask you, Congresswoman, about your recent announcement of your plan to abolish the Enforcer Program and put an organization you’re calling the Luminary Union in its place. What would you say to Americans who are nervous about relying on powered guardians?”

  I don’t know all of Sunstar’s intentions on this since only one video of her talking about it has been shared with me, but I suspect she simply wants to stop seeing people in her community killed by enforcers who use wands charged by celestial blood. I can’t push this message, and may the stars have mercy on me.

  “The Luminary Union is designed to protect the public, but namely the extraordinary celestials who are the backbone and heart of this country. It is time that we become the authorities and leaders.”

  “So you’re giving even more jobs to celestials,” the Senator says. “And leaving our citizens disadvantaged against those with power. This vision for the future is bleak and will only lead to more Blackouts. I promise no one wants to receive the call that I did telling them that their child was blown up because of a power brawl between Spell Walkers, whom you not only won’t condemn, but would bring into the fold of your new division. Can you really look me in the eye and tell me in front of the American people that the terrorist group that killed my son should become our new law enforcement?”

  The anger on Sunstar’s face is the realest it’s been all night.

  I try arguing that the faults of some cannot fall on an entire community, but the Senator is louder and more forceful.

  “I didn’t think so! I didn’t think so! Americans refuse to build the bricks of your celestial supremacist country.” The Senator comes out from behind the podium, creating an intimacy with the audience hidden in the darkness. “A Sunstar presidency is preventable, but we should be concerned that she’s gotten this far. We have a record number of celestials in seats of power, and you’ve heard the rumors of qualified opponents who wanted to serve you but were too intimidated to run against celestials. Between stories of Sunstar using her husband’s hypnosis to control minds of politicians and voters, we have to protect ourselves now!”

  I want to argue that mind control isn’t even a real power, and that Ash would never use it that way if it were, but it would be pointless even if I were allowed.

  To my horror, they’re applauding him.

  The Senator points at me. “You deserve to be locked up in the Bounds.”

  The applause grows louder and Hugh Cooper is having a difficult time getting the audience to settle down. I’m terrified that I coexist in a country with these people.

  “Thank you,” Hugh Cooper says as everyone finally quiets down. “I’d like to open the floor for closing statements. Congresswoman Sunstar, you may go first.”

  I stare directly into the camera. I’m supposed to push some more Celestials First ideals, and I’ve figured out how to do it my way. “Celestials are fireflies who have been suppressed for so long, suffocating in jars that have become our homes. We demand to be freed from our jars, but we need your help to unscrew the lids. Thank you.”

  This might sound like nonsense to the majority of this country.

  I only need one person to understand.

  Fifty-Four

  Breaking

  EMIL

  Sunstar is talking about fireflies.

  I pop my head up from Wyatt’s shoulder and drag Brighton’s laptop closer to me, rewatching the closing remarks. This entire debate has been wild with how Sunstar has hit absolute one-eighties with her stances, but what if something has gone terribly wrong? And maybe even a little bit right?

  “I think that’s Ness,” I say, staring at my frozen still of Sunstar.

  “Ness-Ness?” Wyatt asks.

  “What are you talking about?” Brighton asks.

  My heart is absolutely pounding against my chest, even though I’ve barely moved. “Look, for the past two hours we’ve been confused about why Sunstar seems so off and is saying so many dangerous things. What if that isn’t her?”

  “That’s a big leap, especially since we think he’s dead,” Brighton says.

  “But we don’t have proof that he is,” Prudencia says.

  “Ness calls me ‘firefly.’ Iron must be using him, and this must’ve been some code for me to know what’s what. Think about it, the last time I saw Ness he was being carried away by enforcers. Someone would’ve definitely told Iron about that, right? Maybe Iron is using Ness’s powers to win this election.”

  Everyone looks uneasy, like I’m reaching for this to be true. I don’t know, maybe I am. I never got any closure with Ness. I barely even got a beginning.

  I replay Sunstar’s final remarks again.

  “She’s—he’s—talking about fireflies suffocating in jars that feel like home. Maybe that’s code for Iron’s house and he’s being held hostage there.”

  “Bro, you’re giving off major conspiracy-theorist vibes. If everything you’re saying is true, wouldn’t it be really risky for Iron to put Ness on a national stage?”

  “Yeah, for sure, but maybe Iron has something on Ness to keep him in check.”

  Maybe some promise for freedom? Things were so bad at home that Ness chose a literal gang over staying there. Or maybe he’s being blackmailed for everything he’s done as a Blood Caster. Above all, Ness has wanted his life back, and he’s not going to have much of one behind bars if his identity and crimes are exposed.

  Prudencia’s eyes widen. “Iron could have Carolina and Eva as hostages too.”

  “But they’re with—” Brighton shuts up.

  “The government,” Prudencia says.

  “If that was even them in the videos,” I say.

  Brighton opens another tab on his laptop, and we rewatch the Silver Star Slayer’s interviews. I can’t speak for Eva, but everything about Ma’s appearance still seems so legit. Ness is also an incredible shifter who could pull off passing as them as much as he has Sunstar tonight.

  “That’s definitely Ma,” Brighton says. “She’s even talking about us being ‘high and mighty’ like in my last argument with her.”

  “But if everyone is housed together, Ness would know,” Prudencia counters. “We don’t know Eva well enough, but I don’t think she would’ve quit the team. No matter how upset she was at Iris for lying.”

  “Then what really went down with this saved-by-enforcers narrative?” I ask. “The Blood Casters wouldn’t be working with Iron, right?”

  What could possibly possess them to do that?

  Nothing is clear, but there are enough stars that don’t connect into a constellation that I got to see what’s going down. “I think we should go investigate,” I say.

  Brighton laughs and claps. “You have been grounding me since I got my powers, and now you’re talking about storming into the home of a gleamphobic presidential candidate to save your other boyfriend?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend!”

  Wyatt has been quiet while we’ve been trying to work this out, but I feel the weight of his silence now as if I said something wrong. He’s not my boyfriend and same goes for Ness. But whatever drama comes out of this, now is definitely one of many reasons why I’m not trying to mess around with romance in the middle of a war.

  “Bright, if you’re not game, fine. I’ll fly back into the city myself if I have to.”

  “No, I’m good to go. Just wanted to be clear whose idea this was in case we’re thrown into the Bounds.”

  “This is a bad idea,” Prudencia says. “If we’re wrong, this will only prove everything Iron has been saying about gleamcrafters behaving as if we’re above the law because we have powers.”

  “If we’re right, we save our mother, Eva, Ness, and Sunstar,” Brighton says.

  Prudencia nods, but still looks uncomfortable. She’s right to feel so and I’m right there with her. Everyone we’re hoping to rescue might already be dead.

  Wyatt le
ts out a deep breath. “You lot are truly operating under the gigantic assumption that the man who might become president may have kidnapped your loved ones and staged a public debate with his shape-shifting son.”

  “Yup,” I say.

  “This country is awful.”

  “Yup,” I say again.

  “I’ll take to the skies with you, love,” Wyatt says.

  “Thank you,” I say, hoping he doesn’t feel obligated, but we can definitely use the backup because stars know how much security the senator must have.

  We get ready quickly, having no idea if Iron is returning from Boston tonight or heading off to somewhere else. It’s going to take us over an hour to drive back into the city, and if Iron flies back by helicopter, we’re screwed. Nox unfortunately can’t carry all of us, so Prudencia gets the car ready while Brighton updates Maribelle to see if she’s game to come with us. What really sucks as I run back to mix more phoenix tears into the Starstifler potion is that we’re a few hours away from being done with it. We could’ve brought this with us to try it out on any Blood Casters.

  But we can’t afford to wait. Not when Ness just risked his life to send me that message.

  I ride backseat in the car so I can strategize with Brighton and Prudencia, and Wyatt, Tala, and Maribelle fly ahead on the phoenixes. I haven’t felt this much hope in a minute, and I’m going to be a disgrace to Bautista’s legacy if my actions get us all captured—or worse—right as we were about to make history of our own.

  We all reunite a couple blocks from Iron’s house. The phoenixes are hiding out by the river, staying within whistling distance. Brighton tried to reach Iris and Wesley multiple times in the car, but they never answered, not even when we used Prudencia’s phone, so he left a message and that’s that. It’s going to be the six of us—four powered, two armed with weapons—against however many Blood Casters and security guards are watching over the estate. Once inside, we’ll break into two groups of three—the Reys of Light plus Wyatt, and then Maribelle, Prudencia, and Tala—so power is evenly distributed.