Infinity Son

by Adam Silvera

  “Strike, my children,” Luna says.

  June sinks through the floor while Stanton and Dione charge, using their advanced reflexes to dodge arrows with flips and slides. Ness squeezes my arm, like I have any chance of making a run for it. Dione snatches the ax and spins it into the gut of a man. Right as she swings at another, a short Halo with long dark hair jumps through the air with such epic distance that she could be flying and slices her bronze blade across Dione’s neck. Ness’s grip tightens, and I fight back every impulse to throw up, but my throat stings as Dione’s head rolls off her shoulders and her body crumples like an abandoned marionette.

  The four Haloes pile on Stanton, and I relive my own pain as they cut him with their blades. Then June reappears and steps inside the body of a muscular knight with dark hair, using his sword to stab two of them in the back before the last catches on. It’s one thing to hear about possession, but a much greater horror to see it in action.

  The dark-haired Halo who decapitated Dione holds her shoulders high. “Nimuel, what are you doing?”

  “He’s possessed!” I shout, and Luna personally backslaps me.

  “Get out of my husband or I’ll end you too,” she warns. June approaches her, and the Halo Knight grips the obsidian hilt of her bronze blade. “In another life,” she vows, running her sword through her husband’s heart, but not before June can step out of his body. The Halo Knight is too distracted by the horror she’s committed, and Stanton rises and snaps her neck.

  Hope was short-lived.

  Ness guides me through the hall, and I gag as we avoid the blood and Dione’s head. Luna doesn’t seem particularly worried about Dione, and I wonder if she’s ever actually seen her regrow her head or doesn’t care that she’s dead.

  “Stay away,” Kirk says from inside the vault. A generator whirs, and a dome of yellow energy surrounds him and the egg. June reaches a hand in, and she’s thrown off her feet. “No one is getting through.”

  “We don’t want to go inside,” Luna says. “We’d like you to come out.”

  “This phoenix isn’t yours to mutilate,” Kirk says. I’m proud of him for standing his ground. “Enforcers will be here any minute.”

  Luna laughs. “We’re standing in the blood of Halo Knights. Enforcers won’t hold us for long.”

  “I only have to hold you back long enough for the Crowned Dreamer to go away.”

  “It’s tempting to burn this entire museum and its rare collections to the ground,” Luna says. “But the aftermath doesn’t interest me. I have a proposal for you. I understand you’re familiar with Emil. He’s a promising specter, one who recently flew, a power neither Keon nor Bautista exhibited. I’ll give you this scion to study for your own sciences, to write about in your own journals, in exchange for the phoenix.”

  Yeah, only Luna can mock me for being a nobody and still make me sound promising.

  “Don’t do it! You know she wants to kill the phoenix to become immortal!”

  “Ridiculous theory,” Luna says. “The purity of the phoenix is what’s necessary for my health and will prove to be a marvel to the rest of the world should I succeed.”

  “But . . . the gala is ongoing, and the tickets . . .”

  “Tell everyone the phoenix died. Refund everyone. There is more money to be made in the journals of a phoenix specter than a viewing party. This is a sign from the universe—the boy phoenix was under your nose all along. Unlock the answers you’ve always wanted. Creatures are going extinct, and you know specters are the next step of evolution.”

  Kirk looks curious. “And you don’t want Gravesend for immortality?”

  “Immortality is impossible. The greatest hope anyone can have is to live as Keon has relived. To exact the science of rebirthing and to maintain the memories through each cycle of life. I require the phoenix to attempt this.” Luna pulls me by the chains around my wrists. “We’ve lessened his powers with an infinity-ender for the time being, and I trust you’ll have your own methods to keep him grounded, to tame him like the phoenixes of your past.”

  Tears are forming in my eyes. I can’t believe this is how I’m going to go down. “Kirk, this is insane! I’m a person, a human person!”

  Kirk never looks me in the eye, and I know my fate.

  “I always honor my word,” Luna says.

  “You said he was flying? Fascinating. I wonder if he can slip into previous lives or—”

  Luna holds up a hand. “You can perform all the experiments you want. Do we have a deal?”

  “Deal,” Kirk says.

  The shield comes down, and Kirk exits the vault with Gravesend’s egg. Every step he takes, I’m surprised there isn’t some head shot. He doesn’t appear as disturbed by the dead bodies as I would expect, and who knows what other shadiness he’s been up to in order to get where he is today.

  Up close, the egg is truly beautiful and unlike any I’ve ever seen before. The shells we showcase are aged and spotted. This feathered egg has life inside of it and glows as if it’s resting above a fireplace. I can hear Gravesend’s song, a melody that’s both beautiful and chaotic, like a bunch of keys in a piano that are all being played at once. I can sense that Gravesend isn’t simply battle-hungry, but war-hungry. If Gravesend is given the chance to live, she could grow into a killing machine. The last thing the world needs is Luna walking around with this blood inside of her, escalating her violent instincts to dangerous new heights.

  Ness pulls me back by the arm. “Where would you like him, Kirk?”

  “The storage room down the hall, for the time being. I’ll sedate him there.”

  “I’m a human, Kirk, come on!”

  I know he isn’t falling for any of Luna’s lies. He’s just doing what’s best for himself.

  Ness drags me. “Stay close, firefly. I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispers.

  There’s an uneasiness in my stomach. I don’t want to trust him, but hope ignites again when he relaxes his grip around my arm and his thumb brushes circles against my skin.

  “Please, please get me out of here.”

  I don’t care if begging makes me look stupid if he plays me again; I’ll do whatever it takes to not be locked up in some cell or killed.

  Stanton calls after Ness. “You passed the office.”

  Ness turns to me. “You said it was past this room. You lying, Emil?” Then quietly, he adds, “Make Stanton pay for everything he did to you and your brother.”

  I wait and listen to the song thrumming within me, fight past the pain that flares when I reach for the fire, and when Stanton is close enough, I hold up my hands and shoot fire-darts into his chest.

  “Run!”

  My wrists are still tied, but Ness carries the chains, and this is it, we’re running up the steps. I guide us through the museum, leading us all the way to the Sunroom, where enforcers will be better equipped to protect us. My chest aches from using my power, my heart is speeding and my legs aren’t strong enough, but adrenaline drives me through into the gala where countless guests are dressed up in outfits that are so fancy I’d probably punch a wall if I found out how much they cost. Spellwork explodes behind us, charge after charge. Winds lift us into the air, and Atlas is standing by the balcony, struggling to carry us over until he succeeds.

  “He’s good,” I say, nodding at Ness. “I think.”

  “You look like hell,” Atlas says.

  “I’ll be better now. Luna is downstairs and has the egg. Are you alone? Maribelle here?”

  “She’s here, and we’re not alone.”

  Wesley is dashing into acolytes while Iris guides patrons to a safe escape. Maribelle is locked in combat, and Prudencia telekinetically snaps the suspended phoenixes down from the ceiling so they rain down on the people pursuing her.

  And there’s Brighton. He isn’t holding a camera. He’s armed with a wand.

  Thirty-Six

  Winds

  MARIBELLE

  Where is she?

  The gala g
uests are taking forever to clear the room, too busy tripping over each other’s dress hems, and making it hard for me to track down June. There’s no way she’s sitting this one out. Luna’s life’s work is dependent on this phoenix.

  Once I get my hands on her, I won’t let her go.

  I’m not messing around as I lay out acolytes left and right. I flip out of the way so an oncoming spell slams into an acolyte trying to sneak up on me with a dagger. One acolyte boldly swings at me, so I duck and rise with a scissor kick, breaking her nose. I carry another into the air and drop him through a display of different phoenix eggs. I’m sure someone is filming this, and it’s all going to be used against me, but the world needs to know that someone as deadly and deathly as June exists. A barrage of spells presses me into a corner, hiding behind the stage with the massive screen intended to air the phoenix’s birth. I peek, and the acolytes are rounding the stage any moment, and I can’t float high enough to get above the screen to escape back to the other side. I’m about to call for Atlas or Wesley when I hear grunts and screams. I check for the damage with a pounding heart and see Brighton standing proudly with his wand outstretched.

  “There she is,” Brighton says, pointing his wand across the museum.

  June.

  I don’t take my eyes off her as I call for Wesley. He appears by my side in moments. “June is at two o’clock. Grab her and don’t let go.”

  He dashes away up the wall, and I take off into a hard run so she sees me coming, long enough to distract her. Atlas calls for me to watch my back, but that’s what he and the others are here for. Glass shatters behind me, and I don’t care, the target is June. Wesley’s blur shoots down from the wall behind June, and he collides into her, his arms tightly wrapped around her as they roll across the floor. June’s eyes glow as she tries escaping his grip, but it’s no use.

  “You’re finished,” I say as I grab her by the throat.

  “Maribelle,” Wesley says with concern.

  “Go!”

  She’s all mine.

  This girl possessed my mother and took my family away from me. There’s no sign of fear in her eyes. There’s still time.

  I carry her into the air and slam her face-first onto the floor. I flip her over and lay into her. Punch for Mama. Punch for Papa. Punch for Finola. Punch for Konrad. Punch after punch for every celestial who’s been blamed and hurt and locked up and killed because of the Blackout. The flesh on my knuckles is splitting open, and my glistening blood is mixing with hers. I don’t even feel the pain. Having this assassin pinned under me and at my mercy is a surge of adrenaline like never before.

  “Mari! Mari!” Atlas calls.

  I keep my hand around June’s throat as I turn, feeling her struggling underneath me. The Spell Walkers are being overpowered by spellwork. Emil is up on the balcony with Ness at his side and he’s throwing fire-darts, but not at his usual speed or strength. Wesley is running around Stanton, doing his best to avoid that poisonous mist while also trying to get some hits in. Iris is fighting a six-armed Dione, whose neck is caked in blood. I finally find Atlas in the chaos, and he’s bleeding from his left shoulder and right forearm, making it harder for him to use his power against the onslaught of acolytes.

  I have to end June now, otherwise Atlas and I will never truly be safe. She will eventually find our haven and slice our throats in the middle of the night.

  I get a chill, a warning, and then shake and scream as something sharp digs into my side—a piece of glass June grabbed off the floor from a shattered display. She twists the shard in me, and I lose my grip long enough for her to shove me off her. I lunge, but she’s untouchable and staring up at me with her face masked in our blood.

  June saunters toward me. She’s not threatening. She can’t hurt me unless she’s corporeal, and I can’t imagine this silent assassin is feeling good about round two. But she doesn’t stop, and her eyes that glow like flickering eclipses come closer to mine until she vanishes from sight, and I become so cold it’s like I’m naked in a freezing ocean.

  My body doesn’t feel like my own anymore. I stand without meaning to and take steps like I’m on autopilot. June has possessed me. I don’t know if she can hear my screams. I’m panicking and suffocating inside my own body. I can feel the movement of every muscle, the floor underneath every step, but none of the decisions are mine. This is how helpless Mama must’ve felt, and out of all the experiences we dreamed about sharing together as mother and daughter, being occupied by a ghostly assassin wasn’t on the list.

  There is so much chaos. Luna is watching by the door with the phoenix egg, and I want to call for Wesley to snatch it and run far, far away, but he’s dizzying Stanton. Atlas is hovering above the acolytes, dodging spellwork. He calls my name again, but this isn’t me walking toward him, not really. June picks up a wand with my hand, and I can feel a faint hum against my palm—there’s still enough charge in here for one spell. When June raises the wand, I expect to find it against my head—but to kill me, she’ll have to kill us both.

  I aim—no, June aims—the wand at Atlas and the winds carrying him vanish as the spell hits his heart.

  Thirty-Seven

  Dark Yellow

  MARIBELLE

  Atlas crashes through glass right as June falls out of my body. I don’t bother with her as I run straight for Atlas. Iris is suddenly beside me, hurling acolytes far across the room. I push past the destroyed relics to reach Atlas. He has never been this still. I scoop up his neck.

  “Atlas, Atlas. No, come on, my love.” His eyes are half open, and blood is soaking up his shirt. “Please see me, please see me.” I slip my hand underneath the vest that was too damaged to protect him and his heart isn’t speaking to me. But this doesn’t make sense, because this is Atlas and he has to be around because I wouldn’t be alive without him and we’re supposed to one day have kids who will fly through the air with us and we will live, live, live until we grow old.

  I press my forehead against his and beg him to keep his promise. When that doesn’t work, I scream in his face, and that doesn’t wake him up either.

  I shot him.

  June made me.

  My teeth clench, and I fight back this urge to vomit and my arms are shaking and a cold shiver runs down from my head to my heart. Then I’m warm like when I was sick in bed, always waiting on Mama’s tea with honey, lemon, and garlic. The fights around me continue, and June staring me down sets me off. I rise and scream, and my body feels so hot I swear I’m inside the sun. There’s pressure on my eyes, especially the left, and I hear a roar that comes out of nowhere. A ring of dark yellow fire explodes around me and collides into everyone twenty feet from me. I’m the last one standing.

  Flames run up to my elbows.

  How?

  Everyone is looking up at me. Luna is watching me in awe by the exit when an acolyte takes her by surprise and punches her in the face. The acolyte snatches the egg and runs. He glows gray the closer he gets—Ness.

  I don’t care about the phoenix or the elixir. I look back at Atlas, lifeless, and I want to put this fire to use before it goes away. A flow of dark yellow flames blasts from my palm, but June sinks through the floor before it can reach her. Dione has already charged away and I’m lucky enough to strike Stanton down, even briefly, before they all reach Luna and flee.

  The flames vanish, and I feel faint, the emptiest I’ve ever felt. I stumble back to Atlas and fall on top of him, cuddling against his chest, and even though he doesn’t wrap his arm around me, I fall asleep.

  Thirty-Eight

  Ashes

  MARIBELLE

  I met Atlas on the Brooklyn Bridge.

  I was there with Iris to take down a trio of celestials who were threatening to kill everyone if enforcers didn’t release their boss from the Bounds. It was a poetic moment for us since our parents were the reason their boss got locked up. But we were ambushed when people we believed to be potential victims in cars stepped out and began attacking us. We con
sidered leaping into the East River, but we had to prove ourselves. One celestial was telekinetically pinning me to a wall and preparing to launch a dagger into my heart. He would have succeeded if Atlas hadn’t dropped from the sky and blasted him off the bridge. I recognized him from his attention-thirsty Instagram account, but in person, Atlas was dedicated to the mission. Same for Wesley, who was carrying people away from the action at an exhausting speed. Then a celestial was about to strike Atlas out of the air, and I drop-kicked him into a car’s windshield. He thanked me for saving his life, and I called it even.

  Then tonight when he needed me to back him up, I killed him.

  I’ve stayed in our room for an extra hour by myself, punching holes in the wall and screaming and crying into the pillow that smells of him. I want him in bed with me, to feel the world roll off my shoulders as he embraces me for the night, like we’re the only people in the world.

  Mama and Papa were bold with how they wore their hearts on their sleeves when out saving the world that hated them. It inspired me growing up. Even after the Blackout, I was still determined to fall in love and fight for it. But I shouldn’t have said anything. June could’ve killed anyone, but she targeted Atlas to destroy me. At least my parents died together.

  I wander the halls and find everyone in the boardroom. Wesley is balled up against the wall and sobbing; he even kicks at the floor. Emil, Brighton, and Prudencia are sitting around the egg, and they freeze when they see me. Eva is massaging circles into Iris’s back. Iris is in her own daze.

  “Where is Atlas?” I ask.

  “Maribelle, I’m so sorry,” Eva says. “There’s nothing I—”

  “I know you can’t heal him. Where is he?”