BRIGHTON
The bodyguard wastes no time hurling lightning at us.
I dash-tackle Emil and Wyatt out of harm’s way, and the desk behind us explodes. Celestials using their powers so aggressively for a candidate who hates them are among the dumbest people I know. From the floor, I throw a fire-bolt at the bodyguard and lay him out in the doorway.
I help up Emil while the bodyguard groans. “No point sneaking around anymore, so I’m going to run around the house. You two stay close.”
“Be careful,” Emil says.
I dash out of the room, feeling the bodyguard’s nose crunch under my foot, and I pay no mind to his anguished cries as I go up the next flight of steps and toward the attic. The door is locked—this could be where Ma is being held. I blow it open with a fire-bolt. No one is in here. It’s a massive attic that I would’ve loved for a bedroom if I’d been wealthy enough to grow up in a house like this, but the space only has a camera on a tripod, chairs, and a desk. Maybe for the Silver Star Slayer interviews?
I go to the desk, hoping to find some proof of Emil’s big theory in case we can’t find our people. There’s definitely been campaign work happening up here, with some Iron-Bishop pamphlets, tax statements, and rally receipts. I open a binder and find transcripts of a couple anti-gleam videos that were released recently. Right as I’m about to close it, I notice some of the pages have edits in red.
These aren’t transcripts. They’re actual scripts.
Iron’s team must have Ness putting out propaganda too.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly terrified of Iron. If this is all true, then we’re up against someone more dangerous than Luna and the Blood Casters.
I hold the binder close, turning to find that security guard with dark hair I triple-decked outside. “That wasn’t personal. Neither is this.”
I charge a fire-bolt, but the guard is faster. Heavy winds blast from his palms and extinguish my flames as easily as breathing on birthday candles. I try dashing forward, but it’s like trying to run through a tornado, and I’m thrown off balance. His winds carry me to the attic’s ceiling, and I lose hold of the binder. The guard extends one palm to keep me pinned with his winds, and with his other hand he gestures like he’s squeezing something. I don’t understand what’s happening at first until I’m suddenly wheezing over and over—he’s dragging the oxygen out of me.
This can’t be the end.
There’s no way in hell this is how I’m going out. If I’m ever going to die in battle, it’s going to be epic and at the hands of a worthier opponent. Not some Dark Side Atlas literally sucking the life out of me. Except I can’t break out of this hold. I can’t believe some nobody is going to kill the Infinity Savior.
I can’t breathe, and even as my temperature drops hard and fast, practically sub-zero, I can’t help thinking that I’m going out just like Dad, fighting for air. I’m dizzy and feel weightless as I fall from the ceiling. The lack of oxygen must be getting to me because the world loses all color, and shifting lights and shadows transform everything like some old-school photo negatives. This must be it for me. I’m about to slam against the floor when instead I sink through it, falling back into Ness’s room, where Emil casts fire against that celestial from earlier, and the flames are blinding me. The sounds of winds follow me as I fall through the floor again, even though that Dark Nobody is still up in the attic and I’m somehow crashing through the kitchen. No, I’m not crashing—I’m phasing through this house—and I go through one more fall before slamming down on a tiled floor and suck in the biggest breath.
My ghost powers saved my life before I could die.
I have all three sets of powers the Reaper’s Blood promised, which makes me more than the Infinity Savior, I’m the—
“Brighton!”
Ma.
I turn, and there’s a massive black box inside a yellow gleam-shield. This is one of those lofty panic rooms. I can’t see Ma through the door’s window, but she keeps yelling that she’s inside. I hear Eva too. They’re actually alive. The Senator is going to burn for this. For now, I have to rescue them.
“I’m going to get you out!”
“There’s a button on the wall!” Eva shouts.
I find the keypad with the emergency button and the gleam-shield switches off.
Upstairs, there’s an explosion, followed by people shouting and glass shattering. I hope my side is winning so I have more time to free Ma and Eva. The door won’t pull open. These panic rooms were built to keep out celestials, but what about specters with ghost powers?
There’s no one in my life who can be my phasing instructor the way I have Emil for my phoenix powers and Wesley for swift-speed. I’m all I have—and all I am is more than everyone else. If anyone can go inside a room designed to keep people out, it’s me.
I focus on the panic and determination that must’ve awakened my power, and I think about making myself weightless again until the world loses color again and the sound of howling winds rages inside my head. I’m nervous that I might fall through the earth as I take my first step forward, but that’s not the worst of it. It’s difficult and freezing like walking through a cold, furious ocean and I’m suffocating like I’m drowning in it.
Once I’m inside, the lights and shadows readjust, and I try to catch my breath but my crying mother pulls me into the tightest hug. I’m not complaining.
“I’m sorry for everything, Ma.”
“Me too, my shining star, me too.”
She takes a good look at me, and I hate how underfed she looks.
“Who else is here?” Eva asks. She has bruises around her body.
These monsters who harmed them will meet their ends. Even if I have to possess them all one by one and walk them off skyscrapers.
“We’ve got enough backup,” I say. There’s no time to break down why Iris and Wesley aren’t with us. “This power is new, so hopefully I can make it work with all of us.”
I grab their hands, and Ma squeezes like she never wants to let me go again. We step toward the door and begin phasing through. It’s even harder, like I’m a tiny boat with two anchors thrown overboard, and I’m ready to quit when we break through to the other side. I’m the only one gasping for air, and Ma and Eva don’t seem affected in the slightest.
We go up the stairs and Ma is shaking the entire time.
It’s absolute chaos up here.
Maribelle is fighting a guard on the steps, and she balances herself on the handrail as she kicks him so hard that he tumbles down. Tala and Wyatt are in a dizzying fight with a woman who keeps teleporting in and out, and she always lands a hit on one of them. Emil is rounding the corners of various big furniture pieces as he shoots fire-darts and dodges more lightning attacks from the same celestial as before. And Prudencia is battling the silver-haired bodyguard with a grandfather clock suspended in the air between them; his winds are beginning to overwhelm her and she might get crushed.
“Start moving for the door,” I say.
“No, don’t leave us,” Ma says, holding on to me.
I phase my hand out of hers and rush over to Prudencia. The bodyguard is getting the edge over her until I dash into him so hard that he flies through the windows of the sunroom; he should’ve stayed down when we handcuffed him outside. Prudencia telekinetically slams the grandfather clock down, and the chimes are so distracting that Maribelle surprises the teleporter with a fire-arrow and knocks her out too.
“Pru, get my mom outside!”
I don’t even wait for her reaction before dashing toward Emil, skidding to a halt as the bodyguard attacks. I grab Emil and hope to every star that my power doesn’t fail me now. The lightning phases through us, exploding in white-hot sparks against the fireplace. While Emil is shocked, I hurl a fire-bolt straight into the celestial’s chest and he lands in the ruins of the grandfather clock.
“I saved Ma and Eva; let’s go!”
We yell for everyone to follow us out of the house. We run past a statue and get to the front gate, which Prudencia has pushed open with her power. The Haloes whistle for their phoenixes and Emil runs straight into Ma’s arms. There are sirens in the distance, so I give Emil and Ma three whole seconds before we have to keep it moving. It’s such a rush as we make it back to the car and peel away, Emil and I sitting with our mother’s arms wrapped around us and crying together.
We did it. The Reys of Light, the Infinity Kings—mostly me—saved our family.