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The only specters in my life I could ask are special cases who wouldnā€™t rememberā€”Emil, who was reborn with his phoenix powers, and Maribelle Lucero, who just discovered hours ago that she isnā€™t a regular celestial. Her biological father was a specterā€”the very founder of the Spell Walkersā€”marking her as the first-known celestial-specter hybrid. But Iā€™m a special case too. I feel it; I feel this change in me, even when the glowing stops.

Emil is stunned, but his expression turns back to pained. ā€œHel-help me,ā€ he breathes. Blue blood from the dead phoenix, Gravesend, is wet and sticky on Emilā€™s chest, but itā€™s his own red blood spilling out his wound that needs attention. Luna Marnette, the supreme alchemist who created the Reaperā€™s Blood I just drank, stabbed him with an infinity-ender blade. She mustā€™ve gotten Emil so deep with that infinity-ender blade that he canā€™t even tap into his phoenix powers to heal himself.

I cradle Emilā€™s head. ā€œI got you, bro.ā€

I flinch as spellwork explodes across the Alpha Church of New Lifeā€™s garden. The fighting hasnā€™t stopped because my brother is dying. Itā€™s like the Blood Casters and their acolytes wonā€™t rest until every Spell Walker is dead. In the fray, I see my friends Prudencia Mendez; Wesley Young; and Iris Simone-Chambers, the leader of the Spell Walkers. Despite their innate powers, theyā€™re struggling to contain Stanton, a specter with the blood and the powers of a basilisk, and Dione, a specter with the speed of a hyrda and the extra arms to match.

Then I see Maribelle, our most powerful player, as she crouches beside Luna with absolute murder in her eyes. ā€œYou had my parents and boyfriend killed so you could live forever. Now I get to watch you bleed out.ā€

Luna is fading in and out as she stares at the stars like they can still make her powerful. Not happening. Her silver hair is plastered to her sweaty forehead and sheā€™s pressing down on the hole I blasted through her stomach with my wandā€™s spell. ā€œYou wonā€™t . . . you . . .ā€ Luna tries to speak but keeps choking on her own words. It triggers a flashback of Dad gagging on his own blood. Itā€™s so vicious that I turn away, even though Luna deserves every ounce of pain.

Unlike Luna, Iā€™ll never have to fear death again thanks to the Reaperā€™s Blood.

But my brother does.

ā€œMaribelle! Maribelle, we have to get Emil to the hospital.ā€

Then June appears out of nowhereā€”moon-white skin, dark silver hair, big empty eyes. Sheā€™s a specter with ghost blood, the only Blood Caster with those powers, we think. And she possessed Maribelle and made her kill Atlas Haas, the love of her life and one of my very favorite Spell Walkers. I keep calling Maribelleā€™s name, but itā€™s like her need for vengeance has me on mute. Thereā€™s no stopping her as she scoops up the oblivion dagger, the one thatā€™s made of bone and can vanquish ghosts, and chases the young assassin around the garden.

Back home when I told Maribelle my plan to steal the Reaperā€™s Blood away from Luna, she didnā€™t question it. She wants Luna to die powerless, and I donā€™t want to die at all; weā€™re both coming out winners. Except itā€™s all pointless for me if Emil doesnā€™t live too. I have to get him out of here. I try lifting him, but itā€™s a struggle; itā€™s like he has rocks hidden in his power-proof vest. Itā€™s a shame that none of my new abilities is powerhouse strength, but I still manage to muscle up and get Emil on his feet, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

An acolyte runs at us with an ax, hopping over the hydra beheaded for the potion, his feet now slick with yellow blood. Iā€™m counting on him slipping on the grass, but he stays upright. Emil canā€™t protect us, but itā€™s okay. Iā€™m going to be his hero the way heā€™s been mine the past month. I take a deep breath and extend my hand, visualizing phoenix fire blasting from my palm. The acolyte keeps pursuing us. I keep my hand ready, concentrating on how badly I want to take him out, and heā€™s suddenly wrenched backward as if flicked away by some invisible hand.

How did I do that? Is this a ghost blood power?

I realize it wasnā€™t me when Prudencia appears at our side with her eyes glowing like skipping stars. The eyes that look like doorways into different corners of the universe are how you can identify anyone as a celestial, but thatā€™s only if the celestial activates their powers around you. Prudencia has only ever shown us her beautiful brown eyes since we met her in high school, and now here she is saving our backs and fighting this war with us. Her forehead is split open, and her glistening celestial blood is running down the side of her face.

ā€œWhat happened? Who hurt you?ā€ I ask.

Prudencia waves the question away as she observes Emilā€™s wound. ā€œWe have to get him medical attention.ā€

It was only hours ago when Prudencia and I last saw each other at Nova, the elementary school for celestials that was being used as a haven. Iris was forbidding me from going on any more missions, and even though Prudencia told me to stop risking my life, to stay with my family, to stay with her, I followed Maribelle like a true hero.

From the ground, Luna groans.

ā€œWhoa,ā€ Prudencia says. ā€œSo we stopped her?ā€

She mustā€™ve missed everything while fighting for her life. My grand entrance, blasting Luna with the last spell in my wand, saving Emil, and drinking the Reaperā€™s Blood. Even the glowing. Those moments were historic, and she missed them; I shouldā€™ve set up a camera to upload everything online later for everyone to see.

ā€œI took her down,ā€ I say, pointing at the steel wand on the ground.

She doesnā€™t call me a hero or tell me I did a great job.

Iris shouts as she barrels through acolytes like a

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