Kirk looks curious. “And you don’t want Gravesend for immortality?”

“Immortality is impossible. The greatest hope anyone can have is to live as Keon has relived. To exact the science of rebirthing and to maintain the memories through each cycle of life. I require the phoenix to attempt this.” Luna pulls me by the chains around my wrists. “We’ve lessened his powers with an infinity-ender for the time being, and I trust you’ll have your own methods to keep him grounded, to tame him like the phoenixes of your past.”

Tears are forming in my eyes. I can’t believe this is how I’m going to go down. “Kirk, this is insane! I’m a person, a human person!”

Kirk never looks me in the eye, and I know my fate.

“I always honor my word,” Luna says.

“You said he was flying? Fascinating. I wonder if he can slip into previous lives or—”

Luna holds up a hand. “You can perform all the experiments you want. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” Kirk says.

The shield comes down, and Kirk exits the vault with Gravesend’s egg. Every step he takes, I’m surprised there isn’t some head shot. He doesn’t appear as disturbed by the dead bodies as I would expect, and who knows what other shadiness he’s been up to in order to get where he is today.

Up close, the egg is truly beautiful and unlike any I’ve ever seen before. The shells we showcase are aged and spotted. This feathered egg has life inside of it and glows as if it’s resting above a fireplace. I can hear Gravesend’s song, a melody that’s both beautiful and chaotic, like a bunch of keys in a piano that are all being played at once. I can sense that Gravesend isn’t simply battle-hungry, but war-hungry. If Gravesend is given the chance to live, she could grow into a killing machine. The last thing the world needs is Luna walking around with this blood inside of her, escalating her violent instincts to dangerous new heights.

Ness pulls me back by the arm. “Where would you like him, Kirk?”

“The storage room down the hall, for the time being. I’ll sedate him there.”

“I’m a human, Kirk, come on!”

I know he isn’t falling for any of Luna’s lies. He’s just doing what’s best for himself.

Ness drags me. “Stay close, firefly. I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispers.

There’s an uneasiness in my stomach. I don’t want to trust him, but hope ignites again when he relaxes his grip around my arm and his thumb brushes circles against my skin.

“Please, please get me out of here.”

I don’t care if begging makes me look stupid if he plays me again; I’ll do whatever it takes to not be locked up in some cell or killed.

Stanton calls after Ness. “You passed the office.”

Ness turns to me. “You said it was past this room. You lying, Emil?” Then quietly, he adds, “Make Stanton pay for everything he did to you and your brother.”

I wait and listen to the song thrumming within me, fight past the pain that flares when I reach for the fire, and when Stanton is close enough, I hold up my hands and shoot fire-darts into his chest.

“Run!”

My wrists are still tied, but Ness carries the chains, and this is it, we’re running up the steps. I guide us through the museum, leading us all the way to the Sunroom, where enforcers will be better equipped to protect us. My chest aches from using my power, my heart is speeding and my legs aren’t strong enough, but adrenaline drives me through into the gala where countless guests are dressed up in outfits that are so fancy I’d probably punch a wall if I found out how much they cost. Spellwork explodes behind us, charge after charge. Winds lift us into the air, and Atlas is standing by the balcony, struggling to carry us over until he succeeds.

“He’s good,” I say, nodding at Ness. “I think.”

“You look like hell,” Atlas says.

“I’ll be better now. Luna is downstairs and has the egg. Are you alone? Maribelle here?”

“She’s here, and we’re not alone.”

Wesley is dashing into acolytes while Iris guides patrons to a safe escape. Maribelle is locked in combat, and Prudencia telekinetically snaps the suspended phoenixes down from the ceiling so they rain down on the people pursuing her.

And there’s Brighton. He isn’t holding a camera. He’s armed with a wand.

Thirty-Six

Winds

MARIBELLE

Where is she?

The gala guests are taking forever to clear the room, too busy tripping over each other’s dress hems, and making it hard for me to track down June. There’s no way she’s sitting this one out. Luna’s life’s work is dependent on this phoenix.

Once I get my hands on her, I won’t let her go.

I’m not messing around as I lay out acolytes left and right. I flip out of the way so an oncoming spell slams into an acolyte trying to sneak up on me with a dagger. One acolyte boldly swings at me, so I duck and rise with a scissor kick, breaking her nose. I carry another into the air and drop him through a display of different phoenix eggs. I’m sure someone is filming this, and it’s all going to be used against me, but the world needs to know that someone as deadly and deathly as June exists. A barrage of spells presses me into a corner, hiding behind the stage with the massive screen intended to air the phoenix’s birth. I peek, and the acolytes are rounding the stage any moment, and I can’t float high enough to get above the screen to escape back to the other side. I’m about to call for Atlas or Wesley when I hear grunts and screams. I check for the damage with a pounding heart and see Brighton standing proudly with his wand outstretched.

“There she is,” Brighton says, pointing his wand across the museum.

June.

I don’t take my eyes off her as I call for Wesley. He appears by my side in moments. “June is at two o’clock. Grab her and don’t let go.”

He dashes away up the wall, and I take off into a hard run so she sees me coming, long enough to distract her. Atlas calls for me to watch my back, but that’s what he and the others are here for. Glass shatters behind me, and I don’t care, the target is June. Wesley’s blur shoots down from the wall behind June, and he collides into her, his arms tightly wrapped around her as they roll across the floor. June’s eyes glow as she tries escaping his grip, but it’s no use.

“You’re finished,” I say as I grab her by the throat.

“Maribelle,” Wesley says with concern.

“Go!”

She’s all mine.

This girl possessed my mother and took my family away from me. There’s no sign of fear in her eyes. There’s still time.

I carry her into the air and slam her face-first onto the floor. I flip her over and lay into her. Punch for Mama. Punch for Papa. Punch for Finola. Punch for Konrad. Punch after punch for every celestial who’s been blamed and hurt and locked up and killed because of the Blackout. The flesh on my knuckles is splitting open, and my glistening blood is mixing with hers. I don’t even feel the pain. Having this assassin pinned under me and at my mercy is a surge of adrenaline like never before.

“Mari! Mari!” Atlas calls.

I keep my hand around June’s throat as I turn, feeling her struggling underneath me. The Spell Walkers are being overpowered by spellwork. Emil is up on the balcony with Ness at his side and he’s throwing fire-darts, but not at his usual speed or strength. Wesley is running around Stanton, doing his best to avoid that poisonous mist while also trying to get some hits in. Iris is fighting a six-armed Dione, whose neck is caked in blood. I finally find Atlas in the chaos, and he’s bleeding from his left shoulder and right forearm, making it harder for him to use his power against the onslaught of acolytes.