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“How’s everyone feeling?”

“We’re good!” Brighton says. “Good enough. You?”

“I’ll live, thanks to Eva,” Iris says. “Emil, it’s time to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Ma asks.

“How your son has powers he shouldn’t possess,” Iris says. She catches her breath. She’s not standing tall like she was when I met her. She’s battered and tired. I guess Eva can’t heal someone completely. “There have been a lot of moving pieces in this war, and we have theories and intel to support Emil shaping up to become a major player.”

“A soldier,” I say.

One stare says everything.

FourteenInfinity Son

EMIL

It’s time to connect the stars in my constellation.

Iris escorts us to what appears to be a brewing chamber converted into a boardroom. Steel cauldrons are stacked between two cabinets loaded with ingredients for potions. On a dry-erase board is my name in bright blue marker with arrows pointing to Brighton and my parents. The Spell Walkers have logged our social media accounts, colleges, my museum gig, and Brighton’s YouTube channel. Maribelle is seated at a glossy crescent table and flipping through the pages of a massive textbook. On the other end, Eva looks hungover as she finishes chugging a gallon of water before offering a quick wave. Atlas is typing away at a laptop with the speed of a hacker while Wesley watches on.

“Can we get you anything?” Wesley asks.

“My regular life back,” I say. Atlas and Wesley offer sympathetic looks. I sit at the center of the crescent table between Brighton, Prudencia, and Ma. “Why are the Blood Casters after me?”

“We’ve been keeping track of all the increased specter activity since the Crowned Dreamer surfaced,” Iris says from the dry-erase board. “The fight we saw online between you and that specter was horrific, but my mother confided in me to keep an eye out for any specters with gray or gold flames. You exhibited both, Emil.”

Maribelle finally looks up. “Wait. You didn’t tell us about this.”

“It was a secret,” Iris says.

Maribelle slams the textbook shut. “What kind of leader is trusted with some piece to the puzzle and doesn’t trust her team? Stars forbid something happened to you in our dangerous line of work. The secret would’ve died with you.”

“I knew, just in case,” Eva says, standing beside Iris and grabbing her hand. “I found out a month after the Blackout. This is only a working theory, and it could’ve been a distraction from everything we’ve had on our plates since January.”

“We’re not allowed to have secrets,” Maribelle says. “This is life or death.”

“That was the only secret,” Iris says. “I’m walking in the dark here on everything else.”

Before Maribelle can counter, I speak up. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“You have the blood of a gray sun phoenix within you,” Iris says.

“I cracked that code.”

“So did Bautista de León. He never sought out blood alchemy, and his powers surprised him too. The only people who knew that were the Spell Walkers he first assembled, and they all reached the same conclusion. Bautista was a specter with phoenix blood in a past life, successfully reborn in this one.”

Brighton inhales a deep breath. “Do you think Bautista is Emil’s past life?”

“That’s impossi—”

I shut up.

Everything that should’ve been impossible today is proving itself extra possible.

“The timeline adds up,” Iris says. “Bautista died, and you were born days later.”

“Reborn,” Maribelle breathes as she stares at me in awe.

“It can’t be me! It can’t. Phoenixes are reborn as they were, and I look nothing like him!”

“It’s Bautista’s essence reborn,” Iris says. “Powers and spirit.”

Hours ago, I was a kid having a panic attack at the park, and now I’m the founding Spell Walker reincarnated. Enough already. The world needs to pick on someone else. I’ve got a good handle on history concerning specters carrying blood from gray sun phoenixes and it’s got me thinking. “Please don’t tell me . . .”

Iris is quiet, as if she senses the dread in my question. “Bautista believed he was reincarnated from Keon Máximo.”

I’m numb as I try to think of something that can disprove this. But there’s no known date for when Keon actually died. We only know that it was at the hands of the Halo Knights for his crimes against phoenixes.

“Why did Bautista think that?” I ask.

“Growing up, Bautista apparently had flashes of memories from a life he hadn’t lived, and he connected the dots himself. When he realized his past life was responsible for the existence of all specters, he created the Spell Walkers with the psychic alchemist Sera Córdova. He wanted to do good with the stolen powers he was reborn with against his will.”

I hop out of my seat, nearly banging into Ma, and I stand by the window to cool down. “But this doesn’t make sense. I don’t remember anything out of the ordinary. And phoenixes have accelerated aging! I’m eighteen.”

“The phoenix blood doesn’t make you a phoenix,” Maribelle says. “You’re still human, so you’re aging like a regular human . . . who happens to be the scion of history’s greatest and worst specters. Tough break.”

If I could transform into a phoenix and fly out this window before they can guilt me into fighting a war that my past life started, I would be gone in a millisecond.

“Does this mean any other specter with phoenix blood can be reborn?” Brighton asks.

“Possibly,” Iris says. “Specters make up a tiny fraction of our gleamcraft community. There’s no way for us to know their limits. The specter you fought on the train phased through the doors, which isn’t any phoenix or creature’s power. It’s possible he was a specter in a past life and his essence was reborn into a celestial host. We’re only speculating at this point.”

Maribelle lets out a laugh. “If only we just found ourselves engaging with a celestial with the same power. We could’ve asked her all about her powers and what she witnessed at the Blackout. Oh, wait!”

These are all theories, I keep reminding myself. No one can be sure of anything. “Let’s say this rebirth

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