Infinity Son by Adam Silvera (e book reader free txt) 📗

The silence in the room is broken by a “Whoa” from Wesley.

Iris is typing away on her laptop. “Mrs. Rey, where did your husband find Emil?”

“A couple blocks behind the Grand Gibbous Stadium in the Bronx,” Ma says.

“That’s a few avenues from where Bautista died,” Iris says, staring at the map on her screen. “Doesn’t line up.”

No one here knows phoenixes like I do. “Gray suns never resurrect in the same spot where they died,” I say with no life in my voice. “Defense tactic. Their ashes float away and rebuild elsewhere so they’re not attacked upon returning.”

Eva’s head is sinking, and she snaps up. “Maybe our theory about the essence being reborn in a host is all wrong. Your mother said you were burning up. It’s possible it’s not because your father found you outside, but because . . .”

“I was born in fire,” I say.

“Reborn,” Maribelle corrects again.

“What are you going to tell me next, that this marks me as some chosen one who has to win this war?” I wait for an answer, but nothing. “Oh, come on.”

“There are no chosen ones, necessarily,” Maribelle says. “We choose to fight. But you do seem to belong in this battle more than most.”

“If you join us, we’ll train you to become a formidable weapon,” Iris says. “Like Bautista was.”

Throwing flames isn’t some passive power; I get that I can make a difference in any fight. But I don’t want to become some dagger to sharpen or wand to load. “This Bautista business doesn’t mean anything, okay? It’s a past life that I don’t remember. It’s great that he was a hero, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be.”

The Spell Walkers look like they disagree.

Iris lets out a deep breath. “Unless there’s a new alchemist out there who’s responsible for this wave of stronger specters, Luna Marnette and the Blood Casters are the safe bet. We have been trying to take down Luna for years, and ever since the Blackout, the government is focused on making celestial lives a living hell while she builds her army. It looks as if she’s even recruiting celestials to advance her causes. We need all hands on deck, Emil. We can relocate you and your family, but if the Blood Casters are after you, you’re going to be running for the rest of your life.”

“She’s right, for once,” Maribelle says. “Become a Spell Walker. Get your strength up and make them regret painting a target on your back.”

These can’t be my choices. I’m shaking. “I don’t want these powers.”

“Then stay here and figure out how to undo them,” Maribelle says, like she has no time for my resistance, as if we’re moments away from entering battle. “Bautista and Sera were working on a cure to expel a specter’s power, but Emil, you will never be able to save yourself from this cycle of war unless you help end the Blood Casters once and for all. It’s the least you can do since you technically created this evil.”

“I didn’t do this!”

I shoot for the door, and once I’m out in the hallway, I’m tempted to escape back onto the streets. But then what? I find the staircase that leads to the roof, where I press down onto the ledge so hard my wrists might snap. There aren’t enough deep breaths to escape the weight of the world crushing me, so I scream at the Crowned Dreamer as if the constellation is to blame for all of this misery.

“Hey,” Brighton calls from behind.

I hop onto a generator and stare out into the city, and Brighton joins me.

“Your powers can make a difference,” Brighton says after a stretch of silence. “This was Little Emil’s dream.”

“I didn’t know any better back then.”

“You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I don’t want to, but they’re basically calling me responsible because two lifetimes ago I started this war. I’m not Bautista, I don’t know how to clean up this mess. If he and Sera couldn’t figure out how to end specters, what makes them think I can? I’m not trying to get involved in this business so I can die like the others, Brighton.”

“That’s the best part—you’ll come back! Your power allows you to go on and on.” Brighton snaps his fingers. “Your superhero name could be something cool like Unkillable King or Infinity Son!”

“I don’t want to fight for my life for all of infinity.”

Brighton apologizes, then is quiet for a beat. “You’re not indebted to the Spell Walkers just because they saved us. But Emil? Sleep on this. Today was a roller coaster with no seat belt. I know you, and you’ll regret walking away from all the good you could do.”

It doesn’t seem possible anyone could know me well when I’m a stranger to myself.

“You really aren’t going to Los Angeles tomorrow?”

“No. I’m staying by your side to see this through.”

“You’ll be disappointed if I turn my back on the Spell Walkers and Nova, right?”

Brighton lets out a deep sigh. “I obviously wish we could’ve had powers together. The Reys of Light—Firelight. But I’ll be your sidekick and keep you alive while we figure out this cure.”

I start crying as we fist-bump and whistle, because there’s one light that this storm of a day hasn’t managed to blow out. “You’re not my sidekick. You’re my brother.”

FifteenInfinity Son’s Brother

BRIGHTON

No one believed me. I knew we weren’t going to be screwed with some normal life. I called it.

I had that blood-and-bones feeling Emil is always making fun of, but I was right, we’re supposed to be part of this epic fight. Right now, Emil is the only soldier the Spell Walkers are interested in, but I’ll prove to them that I can be a weapon too.

End of the day, everyone knows it should’ve been me—the powers, the past lives. All of it. I’m built for the Spell Walker life, and Emil isn’t. I’m not knocking him. He would also tell