“What’s going on here?” I point out the group of celestials sitting underneath a domed ceiling lamp that resembles the sun. “Come on.”

Emil doesn’t budge. “We should find the books.”

“We will after,” I say.

“Brighton, let’s do what we came to do,” Prudencia says.

“It’ll be quick,” I say.

I guide Emil by the shoulders. I know my brother better than he knows himself right now. This is the right choice, blood and bones. The younger celestials are excited as we approach, and they’re staring at Emil like he’s a god, but they have no idea how special he actually is. No idea how his first life is one of the reasons they’re all in hiding today.

“Morning,” Eva says. She’s the only Spell Walker present. “Come join us.”

“What is this?” Emil asks.

“Therapy. We get together every few days to check in.”

Emil glares at me as we join the circle.

Apparently, there have been new faces besides ours the past couple weeks, so some celestials are speaking up on how they got here. There’s Grace, whose voice can become as loud as a bullhorn, and she’s had a couple training sessions with Maribelle to act as security for the haven. Flynn can speak any language for every living being and was hunted by the Blood Casters, who wanted his talents to track down healthier creatures. Twelve-year-old Alberta can create earthquakes, and she and her family almost died when her power surprised them in New Jersey; she still doesn’t have a very good handle on it. Noted. This dude Zachary was cornered in the streets by someone trying to rob him, and when the robber pulled a knife on him, Zachary’s power to put someone to sleep surfaced for the first time, and he was accused of attacking the man. Then there’s Sapphire, who can create ropes of energy, but she’s not very good at it yet.

I raise my hand.

“You can just speak,” Eva says.

“How did you end up here?”

Emil needs to hear from active Spell Walkers.

“I’ve been hunted for years,” Eva says. “Two years ago, I was with my best friend when four men hopped out of a van and tried to kidnap me. I’d been terrified before, but that night still haunts me. We only got away because a celestial appeared and hit them all with her sleeper spell. My best friend and I escaped, but . . .”

My heart hammers. This is one of those stories where I know Eva is alive because she’s standing right in front of me, but I’m still so scared for her. “Is your friend here too?”

“That afternoon tore us apart,” Eva says. “She felt powerless, and . . . she sought out power.” She looks like she wants to say more, but unlike when she told me about the consequences of her healing, she doesn’t go on. “Emil?”

Emil’s head is hanging low.

I wrap my arm around his shoulder. I know he’s scared, but if I can’t be the greatest hero this city has ever seen, I’ll make sure my brother will. “Bro, you’re in a ring of people who have been affected by this war. Who do you want to be?”

Sixteen

Assemble

EMIL

They’re kidding me.

I can’t know who I want to be when I’m still struggling with who I am. It’s been twelve hours since my life completely blew up. Some celestials in this circle have always known they were going to come into powers, others were surprised like me, but how many found out they were adopted and are now expected to become a Spell Walker because it’s what their latest past life did? Because it’s what their first past life caused?

Just me.

I stay shut, and when the group breaks up, I keep my distance from everyone—especially Brighton, who set me up—in a corner of the library. I’m going to look through all these damn books myself and hope to find some way out of this. Before the hour is up, I know I’m kidding myself. I sucked at basic chemistry; I don’t stand a chance at alchemy.

I stick to my strengths, reviewing an old textbook on phoenixes, but there’s only one page on gray suns. It doesn’t tell me anything new. I know they come back stronger every time, which is probably how I’m wielding both Keon’s gold flames and Bautista’s gray flames, but I don’t know if my powers will keep growing or if I hit my limit. Resurrection is clearly a thing, except I won’t come back as me when I die. I wasn’t even reborn with any of Bautista’s or Keon’s memories. Were Keon or Bautista self-healing? I never saw any footage of them flying. Some scientists have tried proving a phoenix’s ability to move through their past lives, but nothing solid has ever come from those theories. That’s the power I would want the most, so I could go back and stop Keon from creating specters in the first place, just like some mission in my favorite science fiction movies.

I spend the next couple hours in the library before hunger gets the best of me. I link up with Brighton and Prudencia to feel a little less alone, and when we get to the cafeteria, Ma is eating by herself. Her back is turned to me; I could walk away and not hurt her feelings. Seeing her hunched over whatever the hell she’s eating reminds me so much of when Dad passed, and she would have to force-feed herself.

Everything is terrifying, so I go straight to my mother like I always have in the home she didn’t have to invite me into.

She looks up at me with the reddest of eyes. “Emil.”

There’s that part of me that’s aching to hug her, to forgive her, but I’m frozen.

“My Emilio, I’m so sorry. My heart has never hurt more than seeing that look on your face. . . . I never wanted to put you through that.”

“You should’ve told me,” I say.

“Us,” Brighton says.

“Of course,” Ma says. “We took too long to tell you boys the truth. Part of me wishes I’d kept up the lie, so I wouldn’t have the memory of your betrayed faces. But it seemed too important. I will tell you anything you want to know.”

I have so many questions, but I’ve lived through enough truth with my family that it can wait. “I need some real talk first. I know everyone is counting on me becoming a soldier. It’s been really impossible to hype myself up enough to fill Bautista’s shoes, even though I want to live in a better world like everyone else here. But I know I’m not strong enough to create it.”

“You’ve done it before!” Brighton says. “Sort of.”

I’m not Keon or Bautista, and I don’t know them any better than anyone else who’s researched them online. “They both got killed, Bright. This isn’t some video game where I’ll respawn as your brother if I die. Are you going to feel good about pushing me into this fight if I end up dying?”

Brighton doesn’t hesitate. “I would hate myself forever. But are you going to feel good about walking away from all of this?”

“I would hate myself forever,” I echo. “I know too many names and faces and stories to not help. I might be a specter, but I’m a lot like the celestials who also didn’t choose to have powers. I want to focus on this cure and reverse the damage Keon and the Blood Casters have created.”

Brighton grins. “We’re going to get you through this. I’ll film your training so we can review everything together. I’ll tell you when you’re not giving it your all so you don’t get wrecked on the battlefield.”