“Play the video,” Prudencia says.

Atlas projects it onto the wall, and all the Spell Walkers are still.

The thumbnail shows Brighton with a scratched cheek and swollen eye. I thank the constellations that Ma took the sleeping pill so her heart could have a break. If she almost died imagining what was happening to Brighton, this video would finish the job. Prudencia is shaking, and when she grabs my hand, I don’t have the strength to clutch hers.

In the video, Brighton is in a chair with a grimy wall behind him. I’m immediately hit with all those memories of when Brighton watched wild spectacles, and how I never thought he would be the subject of one. My heart is slamming when I hear Stanton’s voice from the other side of the camera.

“Tell your brother what has to happen,” Stanton demands.

Brighton sits up. “Go to hell.”

“Do what they say!” Prudencia shouts as if this is a video chat.

Stanton comes around the camera, growling, and chokes Brighton. Brighton’s face is a deep red in moments and his eyes are bulging. I almost look away, but I’m never turning my back on my brother again.

Stanton releases him and he gasps for air. “Do it,” he says through clenched teeth.

Brighton is near tears, all stoic broken. “Emil . . .”

I have no idea what he’s going to say. Maybe that this is all my fault or how he’s about to die because of me.

“The only way to get me back is to return the urn and prisoner by seven a.m.” Brighton is shaking. “If you don’t, I’ll be executed on a live feed. Meet us at the place where we spent the last few minutes of our birthday.” Stanton brings the camera closer to Brighton, and he flinches. “If you don’t bring the real urn, they will kill me. If you show up without the prisoner, they will kill me. Do not play games. His life isn’t worth mine.”

Stanton clocks Brighton so hard that the chair rocks back and Brighton hits the floor, laid out.

The video ends.

This was never fun and games, especially not since I joined the Spell Walkers, but it’s never felt realer. I’ve never wanted to set another living person ablaze the way I do now. I’m not a killer, but I’m already so outside of myself that I could become one to save my brother’s life.

Prudencia sinks to the floor, crying. Maribelle slams her fist against the table. Wesley stares out the window.

Stealing powers from creatures didn’t mean the Blood Casters had to be monsters. Threatening Brighton’s life wasn’t enough; no, they had to go ahead and humiliate him on his own channel. No doubt waking him up from Stanton’s lights-out punch to upload the video himself. The views are coming in fast, and I wonder how many of these people have reported it or called the authorities. I bet people are sharing links left and right like our lives are some drama series they can’t believe is unfolding in real time.

“Brighton’s talking about the rooftop of our building,” I say. No one says anything. Too stunned, I guess. I’ll get the phoenix singing. “I don’t know if I can fly again, but I’ll show up with the urn, and once we trade for Brighton, then we can ambush them. Come back with Brighton and the urn.”

Iris holds the urn with a grip so tight I’m surprised she’s not crushing it. “We can’t risk losing the urn. We may not be able to stop Luna if she has the ghosts again.”

“She’ll definitely kill my brother if we don’t!”

“Luna will do far worse if she becomes indestructible.”

“We rescue innocents,” Atlas says. “This is what we do.”

Iris takes a deep breath and doesn’t look me in the eye. “The one for the many. I want to claw out my own heart for saying it, but the mission has always been to stop Luna and the Blood Casters. The mission my parents died for.”

“My parents died too!” Maribelle says.

“It’s not the same!” Iris shouts.

“Because your parents were leaders? Get over yourself. Seniority is the only reason you and your parents were ever trusted to lead. You must be living in some fantasy land where blood isn’t on your hands just because you’re not doing the killing, but wake up. Brighton was brave enough to take a shot that you never would in a million years, to do the very thing our parents fought for, and now he has to pay the ultimate price?”

“We all risk paying the ultimate price,” Iris says.

Maribelle shakes her head. “Unbelievable. You don’t deserve to lead this group. No one else agrees with her, right?”

Eva folds her hands on the table and stares at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, but I do. We’re already trying to protect a country of celestials, and if Luna can take command, she will go global and have us all killed for opposing her.”

Wesley stands by Eva and Iris. “I think Brighton is the man, and he’s done a world of good for us. But we almost died in the cemetery. This won’t be a fair trade. There’s too much to lose.”

“I would die to protect you,” Atlas says.

“Bro, you know what I’m saying,” Wesley says.

“No, I don’t. If you were captured by the Blood Casters, I would be out this door already. But if we’re too careful with our lives all of a sudden, then we should go out and live our truths while we still can, because everything we’ve set out to do will come to a full stop once Luna rises to power.”

“We have to make sure we’re around to fight,” Wesley says. “I have a family, man, and I owe it to them and everyone else to make sure Luna doesn’t become unstoppable.”

I can’t believe people are debating whether my brother’s life is worth saving.

“If you want me on your side, I have to have my brother,” I say. “This is how we started our alliance, and this is how we’ll end it. You’re really going to tell me to my face that you’ll let my brother die when he was risking his own neck to shine a light on your lives?”

Everyone is quiet.

“I’m getting Brighton back, even if that means showing up alone and without that urn. I’ll die fighting so he knows I didn’t abandon him when he needed me most. Good luck fighting your war without us.”

I storm out knowing damn well I won’t survive this alone. I didn’t grow up with powers, but I’ve been a brother for eighteen years.

No fire burns brighter than that.

It’s almost six when I call Kirk, and I’m relieved when he answers.

“Emil?”

“Hey, Kirk. I—”

“How are you doing? I’ve tried reaching you. I want to understand why you made the decision to become a specter and—”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but everything has taken a turn and only gotten worse and worse.”

“Is this about your brother? I saw the video.”

Of course he’s seen it. My life is some show for people to consume.

“Brighton’s in trouble, and I might not be able to save him. But the Blood Casters won’t win if you keep Gravesend far away from the museum. Cancel the gala, get her out of the country.”

I tell him everything I know about Luna’s plan to use Gravesend’s pure blood to make herself immortal.