Infinity Reaper by Adam Silvera (best new books to read txt) 📗

hit the brakes on my power safely, so I just stop and fall beneath the surface. I tumble around for moments that feel longer than it took for me to run here. Wesley helps me out and he’s laughing as I blow out all the water that shot up my nose.

“I can’t believe it worked!” Wesley says as he paddles perfectly to stay afloat. “The victim-in-distress is the oldest trick in the book! Even I didn’t fall for that as a kid!”

I almost snap at him, but I laugh instead because this is huge. I ran with purpose and direction and the adrenaline rush of needing to save him gave me the charge I was missing. Not only that, my first successful dash was on water. This is what I’m talking about—I’m next level.

We’re swimming back to shore and Emil is standing there shocked. Of course he didn’t manage to get this on camera either, but I’ll let it slide this time since we really thought Wesley was in danger. Not that there’s anything powerless Emil could’ve done about it.

Wesley pats me on the back. “You just needed some motivation. Let’s try again now that you’re more familiar.”

I make sure Emil is recording before Wesley coaches me further. Thank the stars because I’ve really got the hang of this. It’s like riding a bike. I dash all the way down to a distant neighbor’s bonfire and reverse, making it back in under four minutes. I never realized it would feel so draining, but it’s like when Emil described carrying his fire as heavy. Wielding gleam isn’t easy. Those of us who can endure are the real champions of this world. After a few more successful runs, Wesley challenges me to a game of tag to test my abilities to keep sight of a moving target in the event I ever need to chase down other swift-speeders like he has in the past. Time moves differently when you can run at an above-average rate. It feels like I’ve been running for an hour, and when I stop to catch my breath, Prudencia tells me it’s only been ten minutes. I call it quits before I can catch him.

Wesley skids by me, sand kicking up. “That was a better start, Brighton. You’ll catch me one day.”

“I’ll outrun you one day,” I say with a grin.

And that’s a promise.

Over a massive lunch where I finish devouring the last of my steamed potatoes, brown rice, and black bean burger, Emil discovers that the city has a special guest. A Halo Knight and her phoenix have been spotted around New York, and they’re causing rainstorms everywhere they fly. They were last seen at the Light Sky Tower last night, which she’d broken into, but there aren’t any details to support why. That’s her business and has nothing to do with us.

Emil is fascinated by the clips circulating online, but I return my attention to my own phone so I can rewatch the videos of me dashing. I realize now that when I was running toward that bonfire that Wesley should’ve followed me with the camera because the current footage is basically just me taking off and returning a few minutes later. It’s easy enough to edit out the dead space, but maybe I can layer it with some voice-overs with what was going through my head; I haven’t seen anyone else do that. The other videos of me chasing after Wesley are a good demonstration of my speed and these will be safe to share online.

The second I’m free from helping Emil and Prudencia clean up our plates, I bring my laptop to the backyard and review all the old footage of Atlas teaching Emil how to reach within and call for his power. There are so many reasons to miss Atlas, but right now I wish one of my favorite heroes were around to coach me the way he did Emil. This would be epic to share for an in memoriam piece.

I’m trying to center myself mentally when Emil and Prudencia join me outside.

“Studied up?” Prudencia asks.

“Ready to ace this,” I say. I feel confident like this is an exam.

I prop my phone against the fence, hit record, and confirm that I’m visible before trying to cast fire. In the video, Atlas tells Emil to visualize his power to cast it, but that’s easier said than done. I’m imagining the silver and sapphire flames in my possession, even the heat when it felt like I was burning alive, but that doesn’t instantly conjure them. Atlas had it easier. He got to grow up with his powers at the same time he was learning how to talk and string together sentences. It’s a lot harder for those of us learning later in life.

I can’t even get a flicker.

“Come on,” I say under my breath.

“What are you feeling?” Prudencia asks.

“Frustrated. I’m concentrating and visualizing everything like Atlas instructed.”

Prudencia takes my hand and settles me. “It’s more than that. Papí always said powers have to be powered. Frustration is holding you back. When I use my telekinesis, I’m giving myself control in a world where I don’t always feel like I have some. What do you feel, Emil?”

“It always starts as fear,” Emil says. “Like when Orton was trying to kill you, Bright. When I wanted to protect you more than anything, the fire came to life.”

Prudencia releases me. “Dig deeper, Brighton.”

“Don’t just try to drag fire out of you,” Emil adds.

I close my eyes.

I have my own fears. Emil’s powers activated because he wanted to protect me, but I went for the Reaper’s Blood because it meant that I wouldn’t ever have to fear death again. I don’t want to go through what Dad went through, I want the fullest life possible, and the phoenix fire gave me the second chance I desperately needed. Heat flushes over me and I don’t dare peek to see anything that’s happening; I keep stoking the flames. Emil and Prudencia