EMIL
I’ll never forgive myself for putting the world before my family. Turns out Eva can’t heal hearts, but Wesley was quick to grab Ma’s nitroglycerin, and we’ve got her stabilized down the hall while the rest of us are working away in the boardroom. I’m about to check in on her again when I get a notification alert on my phone.
Celestials of New York just uploaded a new video: Return the Urn.
“Brighton!”
Everyone turns to me. Prudencia snatches my phone. He’s got to be alive. No one else knows his super complicated password for any of his accounts. Unless they tortured it out of him. I’ve imagined so many nightmares for what they’re doing to Brighton the past four hours I’ve been without him. If Luna was so cruel with her parents and their ghosts, she would be merciless with my brother. Not going to lie, if things are as horrific as my gut thinks, death might be better.
“Play the video,” Prudencia says.
Atlas projects it onto the wall, and all the Spell Walkers are still.
The thumbnail shows Brighton with a scratched cheek and swollen eye. I thank the constellations that Ma took the sleeping pill so her heart could have a break. If she almost died imagining what was happening to Brighton, this video would finish the job. Prudencia is shaking, and when she grabs my hand, I don’t have the strength to clutch hers.
In the video, Brighton is in a chair with a grimy wall behind him. I’m immediately hit with all those memories of when Brighton watched wild spectacles, and how I never thought he would be the subject of one. My heart is slamming when I hear Stanton’s voice from the other side of the camera.
“Tell your brother what has to happen,” Stanton demands.
Brighton sits up. “Go to hell.”
“Do what they say!” Prudencia shouts as if this is a video chat.
Stanton comes around the camera, growling, and chokes Brighton. Brighton’s face is a deep red in moments and his eyes are bulging. I almost look away, but I’m never turning my back on my brother again.
Stanton releases him and he gasps for air. “Do it,” he says through clenched teeth.
Brighton is near tears, all stoic broken. “Emil . . .”
I have no idea what he’s going to say. Maybe that this is all my fault or how he’s about to die because of me.
“The only way to get me back is to return the urn and prisoner by seven a.m.” Brighton is shaking. “If you don’t, I’ll be executed on a live feed. Meet us at the place where we spent the last few minutes of our birthday.” Stanton brings the camera closer to Brighton, and he flinches. “If you don’t bring the real urn, they will kill me. If you show up without the prisoner, they will kill me. Do not play games. His life isn’t worth mine.”
Stanton clocks Brighton so hard that the chair rocks back and Brighton hits the floor, laid out.
The video ends.
This was never fun and games, especially not since I joined the Spell Walkers, but it’s never felt realer. I’ve never wanted to set another living person ablaze the way I do now. I’m not a killer, but I’m already so outside of myself that I could become one to save my brother’s life.
Prudencia sinks to the floor, crying. Maribelle slams her fist against the table. Wesley stares out the window.
Stealing powers from creatures didn’t mean the Blood Casters had to be monsters. Threatening Brighton’s life wasn’t enough; no, they had to go ahead and humiliate him on his own channel. No doubt waking him up from Stanton’s lights-out punch to upload the video himself. The views are coming in fast, and I wonder how many of these people have reported it or called the authorities. I bet people are sharing links left and right like our lives are some drama series they can’t believe is unfolding in real time.
“Brighton’s talking about the rooftop of our building,” I say. No one says anything. Too stunned, I guess. I’ll get the phoenix singing. “I don’t know if I can fly again, but I’ll show up with the urn, and once we trade for Brighton, then we can ambush them. Come back with Brighton and the urn.”
Iris holds the urn with a grip so tight I’m surprised she’s not crushing it. “We can’t risk losing the urn. We may not be able to stop Luna if she has the ghosts again.”
“She’ll definitely kill my brother if we don’t!”
“Luna will do far worse if she becomes indestructible.”
“We rescue innocents,” Atlas says. “This is what we do.”
Iris takes a deep breath and doesn’t look me in the eye. “The one for the many. I want to claw out my own heart for saying it, but the mission has always been to stop Luna and the Blood Casters. The mission my parents died for.”
“My parents died too!” Maribelle says.
“It’s not the same!” Iris shouts.
“Because your parents were leaders? Get over yourself. Seniority is the only reason you and your parents were ever trusted to lead. You must be living in some fantasy land where blood isn’t on your hands just because you’re not doing the killing, but wake up. Brighton was brave enough to take a shot that you never would in a million years, to do the very thing our parents fought for, and now he has to pay the ultimate price?”
“We all risk paying the ultimate price,” Iris says.
Maribelle shakes her head. “Unbelievable. You don’t deserve to lead this group. No one else agrees with her, right?”
Eva folds her hands on the table and stares at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, but I do. We’re already trying to protect a country of celestials, and if Luna can take command, she will go global and have us all killed for opposing her.”
Wesley stands by Eva and Iris. “I think Brighton is the man, and he’s done a world of good for us. But we almost died in the cemetery. This won’t be a fair trade. There’s too much to lose.”
“I would die to protect you,” Atlas says.
“Bro, you know what I’m saying,” Wesley says.
“No, I don’t. If you were captured by the Blood Casters, I would be out this door already. But if we’re too careful with our lives all of a sudden, then we should go out and live our truths while we still can, because everything we’ve set out to do will come to a full stop once Luna rises to power.”
“We have to make sure we’re around to fight,” Wesley says. “I have a family, man, and I owe it to them and everyone else to make sure Luna doesn’t become unstoppable.”
I can’t believe people are debating whether my brother’s life is worth saving.
“If you want me on your side, I have to have my brother,” I say. “This is how we started our alliance, and this is how we’ll end it. You’re really going to tell me to my face that you’ll let my brother die when he was risking his own neck to shine a light on your lives?”
Everyone is quiet.
“I’m getting Brighton back, even if that means showing up alone and without that urn. I’ll die fighting so he knows I didn’t abandon him when he needed me most. Good luck fighting your war without us.”
I storm out knowing damn well I won’t survive this alone. I didn’t grow up with powers, but I’ve been a brother for eighteen years.
No fire burns brighter than that.
It’s almost six when I call Kirk, and I’m relieved when he answers.
“Emil?”
“Hey, Kirk. I—”
“How are you doing? I’ve tried reaching you. I want to understand why you made the decision to become a specter and—”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but everything has taken a turn and only gotten worse and worse.”
“Is this about your brother? I saw the video.”
Of course he’s seen it. My life is some show for people to consume.
“Brighton’s in trouble, and I might not be able to save him. But the Blood Casters won’t win if you keep Gravesend far away from the museum. Cancel the gala, get her out of the country.”
I tell him everything I know about Luna’s plan to use Gravesend’s pure blood to make herself immortal.
“Immortal? Emil, that’s not possible.”
“I would’ve told you the same before I came back to life,” I say. He’s quiet. This is the first time I’ve trusted anyone outside Nova with the big secret. “In essence, at least. Turns out Keon could resurrect. He became Bautista, and . . .”
“Now there’s you.” Then Kirk is quiet. “Emil, this is astonishing news, truly. I would love to help you work through this, but in the meantime, we can’t cancel the gala. The museum needs this funding to keep its doors open. The Halo Knights will already be present to protect Gravesend, but I’ll alert them to the threat.”
“Luna is planning to create her potion at the height of the Crowned Dreamer. Delay the gala.”
“Gravesend will have hatched by then. The Halo Knights are capable, I promise you. I’d like to ask you more about this resurrection business—”
I hang up. Between the Spell Walkers turning their backs on me and Kirk not taking my warning seriously, I’ve lost the little hope I had that we might defeat Luna.
I go to Ness’s room. He’s lying on his air mattress and puts down the book he was reading. “Finally, firefly.”
I sit in the center of the room, relieved when he joins me. I tell him everything—Luna pulling off the ritual, me flying away with the urn, Brighton being taken hostage.
He watches the video and hands me back my phone. “She wants me back.”
“It’s not fair, I know. I’m sorry. But Brighton is innocent.”
“What’s the plan? You offer me up, and once we secure Brighton, we all get away?”
If only it were that easy. “Iris would rather sacrifice Brighton.”
“She may have a point,” he says.
“I don’t care about some greater good. I didn’t ask for these powers and I’m not my past lives. I don’t know when Keon was born, and I can’t tell you what Bautista’s favorite meal was, and I’m already carrying around enough guilt for a war I didn’t cause. But Brighton getting jumped by the Blood Casters? That’s on me. No one matters to me more than my brother, and I won’t be able to live with myself if he dies.”
The door opens, and Maribelle and Atlas walk in.
“The good guys are here,” Ness says dryly while feigning a clap.
“They backed me up in there,” I say.
Atlas pats my shoulder. “We’re here to help you now too. You and Brighton have done more than we should’ve asked of you.”
Maribelle flips a dagger between her fingers while holding eye contact with Ness. “You coming willingly?”
“He has to make this decision himself,” I say.
“You’re truly not cut out for this life,” she says. It feels more like an apology than an insult.
Good on all the Spell Walkers who have stayed in this fight, even when they’ve wanted to bust out too, but the soldier life is too suffocating for me. Someone shouldn’t have to be a walking weapon simply because they possess powers. I’m not about it, and I’m done once I save my brother.
Ness stands. “I got myself into this, and I’ll get myself out of it.”
I don’t know how to thank someone who is willingly marching back into the life he doesn’t want for himself. “I’ll protect you too,” I promise.
“Sure.”
This would be easier if Ness were as awful as Stanton, but as far as I can tell, he’s a Blood Caster who was torn between two conflicts and chose the option that scared him the least.
“Eva has the urn,” Atlas says. “She’s not going to hand it over to anyone but Iris. This is where you come in, Ness.”
Ness looks puzzled. “You trust me to shift into your leader?”
Maribelle scoffs. “Not my leader.”
“I trust you,” I say.
Ness takes a deep breath and begins morphing before our eyes. There’s that muted glow as he shrinks, and his skin darkens while his hair shortens and turns green. There’s pain on his face the entire time, and within a minute, the transformation is complete. He looks like Iris, but still in his clothes. “I don’t know what she’s wearing,” he says in a voice that sounds like his own before it transitions into Iris’s halfway. He makes the necessary changes as we describe her resistance shirt, white jeans, and combat boots.
We walk down the hall. I sense Atlas is uneasy with all of this, but he’s going to do the right thing. Like Ness. If he had some master plan, this wasn’t going to be the time to make a move. Once we get the urn, I have to figure out how to save us all. I’ll honor my promise to Ness.
Maribelle barges into the professors’ lounge, which I haven’t been in before. Eva is stretched across a fold-out couch and comes out from under her pillow. “We need the urn before your girl has a change of heart,” she says, gesturing at Ness, who is standing tall as Iris.
Eva rubs her eyes. “It’s never going to work.”
“We have to try,” Ness says. It’s nice to hear what Iris would’ve sounded like had she said these words herself.
“I’m not going to let the Blood Casters get away with the urn, but I have to get my brother,” I say.
Eva gets out of bed, goes into a closet, and opens a safe, and when she hands Ness the urn, she turns to me and holds her stare. “You get one shot.” She knows what’s up, and she’s allowing it anyway. But there’s no mistaking the look on her face—this pure anguish and hope that she won’t regret handing the world over to someone who will risk it all to save his brother.
We grab our gear but don’t bother changing. We rush inside the car before Iris or Wesley find out what Eva has done. Prudencia comes banging out the doors, and she looks dressed for battle too. She pulls at the backseat door, but I keep it locked.
“Let me in,” she says.
“No. Brighton is in this mess because he couldn’t defend himself. I’m not risking you too.”
“I can handle myself,” Prudencia says.
“Please hang tight and explain everything to Ma in case . . .”
I’m not as hopeless as I was when I thought I was going into this fight alone. I will survive, and I will save Brighton, and Ma will never have to panic over the death threat.
I tell Atlas to drive, and we move a couple feet before the car stops. My face and Ness’s slam against the backs of the front seats. The wheels continue spinning like we’re stuck in a ditch. I think Iris must’ve caught up to us and grabbed the rear, but when I turn around, Prudencia is the only one there, and she’s walking toward the car with her arms outstretched as if she’s inviting me in for a hug. When she’s outside my window, she snaps her fingers, and the lock switches. She lets herself in, pushing me against Ness.
“I told you I can handle myself,” Prudencia says. Her eyes are fiercely glowing like ping-ponging stars. “I’m going.”