Page 31 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

Here’s this absolutely wonderful memory of our father that our mother might have taken to her grave. Brighton looks like he may cry any second.

“I didn’t get to meet you until that evening,” Ma says. “The police arrived to investigate, but when I saw how innocent you were, my heart broke even more. We don’t know if your biological parents couldn’t afford to take care of you or what darkness possessed them to abandon you in the manner they did. But we knew you were coming home with us. Your father looked at you like he didn’t trust a single other person to take care of you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We wanted to give you an easy life and make sure you never felt out of place.”

The silence in the room is broken by a “Whoa” from Wesley.

Iris is typing away on her laptop. “Mrs. Rey, where did your husband find Emil?”

“A couple blocks behind the Grand Gibbous Stadium in the Bronx,” Ma says.

“That’s a few avenues from where Bautista died,” Iris says, staring at the map on her screen. “Doesn’t line up.”

No one here knows phoenixes like I do. “Gray suns never resurrect in the same spot where they died,” I say with no life in my voice. “Defense tactic. Their ashes float away and rebuild elsewhere so they’re not attacked upon returning.”

Eva’s head is sinking, and she snaps up. “Maybe our theory about the essence being reborn in a host is all wrong. Your mother said you were burning up. It’s possible it’s not because your father found you outside, but because . . .”

“I was born in fire,” I say.

“Reborn,” Maribelle corrects again.

“What are you going to tell me next, that this marks me as some chosen one who has to win this war?” I wait for an answer, but nothing. “Oh, come on.”

“There are no chosen ones, necessarily,” Maribelle says. “We choose to fight. But you do seem to belong in this battle more than most.”

“If you join us, we’ll train you to become a formidable weapon,” Iris says. “Like Bautista was.”

Throwing flames isn’t some passive power; I get that I can make a difference in any fight. But I don’t want to become some dagger to sharpen or wand to load. “This Bautista business doesn’t mean anything, okay? It’s a past life that I don’t remember. It’s great that he was a hero, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be.”

The Spell Walkers look like they disagree.

Iris lets out a deep breath. “Unless there’s a new alchemist out there who’s responsible for this wave of stronger specters, Luna Marnette and the Blood Casters are the safe bet. We have been trying to take down Luna for years, and ever since the Blackout, the government is focused on making celestial lives a living hell while she builds her army. It looks as if she’s even recruiting celestials to advance her causes. We need all hands on deck, Emil. We can relocate you and your family, but if the Blood Casters are after you, you’re going to be running for the rest of your life.”

“She’s right, for once,” Maribelle says. “Become a Spell Walker. Get your strength up and make them regret painting a target on your back.”

These can’t be my choices. I’m shaking. “I don’t wan

t these powers.”

“Then stay here and figure out how to undo them,” Maribelle says, like she has no time for my resistance, as if we’re moments away from entering battle. “Bautista and Sera were working on a cure to expel a specter’s power, but Emil, you will never be able to save yourself from this cycle of war unless you help end the Blood Casters once and for all. It’s the least you can do since you technically created this evil.”

“I didn’t do this!”

I shoot for the door, and once I’m out in the hallway, I’m tempted to escape back onto the streets. But then what? I find the staircase that leads to the roof, where I press down onto the ledge so hard my wrists might snap. There aren’t enough deep breaths to escape the weight of the world crushing me, so I scream at the Crowned Dreamer as if the constellation is to blame for all of this misery.

“Hey,” Brighton calls from behind.

I hop onto a generator and stare out into the city, and Brighton joins me.

“Your powers can make a difference,” Brighton says after a stretch of silence. “This was Little Emil’s dream.”

“I didn’t know any better back then.”

“You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I don’t want to, but they’re basically calling me responsible because two lifetimes ago I started this war. I’m not Bautista, I don’t know how to clean up this mess. If he and Sera couldn’t figure out how to end specters, what makes them think I can? I’m not trying to get involved in this business so I can die like the others, Brighton.”

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