Page 28 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

“She’s someone else’s problem,” Prudencia says. “I’m here for you.”

I hug the hell out of her.

“You can’t run away like that, Emilio,” Ma says.

“I don’t belong at home,” I say. “Everyone thinks I’m a hero. What kind of hero puts his family’s life at risk? I had to get out of there and figure out why this is happening to me.”

“We are your home,” Ma says. “You belong with us.”

Brighton claps his hands. “Great. Now that everyone is here, we can figure out our next move. Iris has hinted at some deeper meaning behind Emil’s powers. Maybe this is some big chosen one destiny business where we can all help out.”

Ma shakes her head and squeezes my hand. “No. Brighton, you’re leaving for college tomorrow.”

“No I’m not! We can’t sweep Emil’s phoenix fire under the rug.”

“We also won’t run straight into the cross fire!” Ma’s face is red, and I don’t want her getting worked up like this.

There’s a hard knock on the door, and Iris lets herself in. She’s no longer in her power-proof vest. There’s a gaping hole in her shirt, but there’s only light scarring where her skin had been bubbling before. She greets Ma and Prudencia with a nod. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“We’re good!” Brighton says. “Good enough. You?”

“I’ll live, thanks to Eva,” Iris says. “Emil, it’s time to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Ma asks.

“How your son has powers he shouldn’t possess,” Iris says. She catches her breath. She’s not standing tall like she was when I met her. She’s battered and tired. I guess Eva can’t heal someone completely. “There have been a lot of moving pieces in this war, and we have theories and intel to support Emil shaping up to become a major player.”

“A soldier,” I say.

One stare says everything.

Fourteen

Infinity Son

EMIL

It’s time to connect the stars in my constellation.

Iris escorts us to what appears to be a brewing chamber converted into a boardroom. Steel cauldrons are stacked between two cabinets loaded with ingredients for potions. On a dry-erase board is my name in bright blue marker with arrows pointing to Brighton and my parents. The Spell Walkers have logged our social media accounts, colleges, my museum gig, and Brighton’s YouTube channel. Maribelle is seated at a glossy crescent table and flipping through the pages of a massive textbook. On the other end, Eva looks hungover as she finishes chugging a gallon of water before offering a quick wave. Atlas is typing away at a laptop with the speed of a hacker while Wesley watches on.

“Can we get you anything?” Wesley asks.

“My regular life back,” I say. Atlas and Wesley offer sympathetic looks. I sit at the center of the crescent table between Brighton, Prudencia, and Ma. “Why are the Blood Casters after me?”

“We’ve been keeping track of all the increased specter activity since the Crowned Dreamer surfaced,” Iris says from the dry-erase board. “The fight we saw online between you and that specter was horrific, but my mother confided in me to keep an eye out for any specters with gray or gold flames. You exhibited both, Emil.”

Maribelle finally looks up. “Wait. You didn’t tell us about this.”

“It was a secret,” Iris says.

Maribelle slams the textbook shut. “What kind of leader is trusted with some piece to the puzzle and doesn’t trust her team? Stars forbid something happened to you in our dangerous line of work. The secret would’ve died with you.”

“I knew, just in case,” Eva says, standing beside Iris and grabbing her hand. “I found out a month after the Blackout. This is only a working theory, and it could’ve been a distraction from everything we’ve had on our plates since January.”

“We’re not allowed to have secrets,” Maribelle says. “This is life or death.”

“That was the only secret,” Iris says. “I’m walking in the dark here on everything else.”

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