BRIGHTON
Emil is blazing like a comet, gray and gold flames streaking against the night.
I lose focus on filming as my brother flies away with my favorite power. How long has Emil known he could do this? Was he keeping it a secret so he could bust it out in some blazing moment of glory? Unlike him, I’m not running away from battle. He can go back to Nova and play it safe with Ness; I don’t care. But this fight doesn’t end just because he got the urn.
Maribelle and Iris are struggling to hold their own against Stanton, Dione, and Anklin.
There’s a wand on the ground, and I drop the camera. Stanton spots me and is confused long enough for Iris to punch him so hard he hurtles into a trio of beat-down acolytes. I scoop up the wand, which feels as heavy as a steel bat even though it’s only as long as a cutting knife. My fingers are tight around this weapon, and I’m as powerful as I’ve always felt.
This isn’t some video game. This is the real deal.
I hold the wand like I’ve seen so many heroes and enforcers do on YouTube.
I may only get one shot, so I choose the most important target.
I squint at Luna and flick the wand.
The ember-orange bolt misses Luna by inches and sets a tree ablaze. The force of the spell knocks me on my back, and my arm is shaking so hard, like an earthquake in my wrist, and I drop the wand. Luna stares at me with a cocked head, grins, and points at me. Acolytes are on top of me in moments, and I reach for the wand, but they’re dragging me away. I dig my nails into the ground, shouting for the Spell Walkers to help me, but I’m flipped around by Stanton, who hovers over me with his bruised face. He pins me down with his viselike grip and punches me between the eyes.