Infinity Reaper by Adam Silvera (new books to read .TXT) 📕

are right; this is about more than me being able to cast fire and maybe one day fly. I might never be untouchable as a ghost, but with my hydra and phoenix powers I won’t have to fear an easy death and will be able to save so many lives. I’m hotter and hotter thinking about how this world will celebrate me—magazine covers, documentaries on my life, book signings for my sure-to-be ghostwritten memoir, statues erected in my honor, teams of celestials and specters uniting under my watch.

I will have infinite glory.

From somewhere deep within I hear a pained screech like a phoenix being killed, like Gravesend being stabbed. I open my eyes and silver and sapphire flames are spiraling around my fists like snakes on fire.

Emil and Prudencia are staring at me, caution in their eyes, as if they’re worried I’m going to be in tremendous pain again, but I’m fine. The weight of the flames isn’t even as heavy as Emil made it out to be—or maybe I’m simply stronger than him.

“What do I do with these now?” I ask about the flames with a laugh.

“You can pull them back in,” Emil says. “Think about grounding yourself and—”

Grounding myself is the last thing I want to do.

I thrust my fists toward the sky and bolts of silver and sapphire fire shoot into the air with a thunderous phoenix screech and explode above us like fireworks.

This power thrumming through me is the beginning.

The world will worship the Infinity Savior.

Twenty-SixBrighton of New York

BRIGHTON

A couple hours after casting fire, I finish editing the video of my dreams. I project the final cut from my laptop onto the TV and I gather everyone in the living room—Emil, Prudencia, Iris, Wesley, and Ruth with Esther, who’s asleep in her mother’s arms.

“I promise you’re not actually ready for this, but are you ready?” I ask.

I get an enthusiastic fist pump from Wesley and encouraging words from Ruth, but Emil, Prudencia, and Iris are a tougher audience. I respect that. As a creator, I always want people to like my work because they actually do and not just because they feel forced to pretend because it’s me.

I hit play.

The video opens with darkness. Then, my voice: “The time has come. . . .” I’m shown on the sand with a quick cut to me in the backyard. It must look pretty basic, but that’s the point. These were my last ordinary moments before I consciously cast my new extraordinary powers. Then the screen splits. On the left I’m running, on the right I’m flicking my hand, but nothing happens. “For another Spell Walker to rise . . .” The focus is back on me on the beach, minutes after I ran across the sea to save Wesley, and I dash away from the camera, edited slightly to show me returning sooner than I did in real time because I scrapped the voice-over idea. Then it moves onto the most glorious moment in the backyard. I get chills watching myself, eyes closed in concentration, as wisps of smoke snaking around my wrists grow into the silver and sapphire flames. My eyes open, and while I grew up dreaming of the day that they would glow like some godlike corner of the universe, I still find these burning eclipses absolutely beautiful. We linger on my smile before shifting to quick cuts of me demonstrating my speed as I chase after one of the country’s fastest celestials and me casting fire-bolts into the sky, the latter a talent that took us all by surprise. The video ends with me carrying fire in my hands before I dash out of sight; it took us a few tries to get that shot right, but we pulled it off.

“Incredible, right?” I ask.

“That’s the trailer to a movie I’d watch,” Wesley says.

“Very inspiring. You put all of that together so quickly too!” Ruth says.

“It’s a shame you don’t have footage of me sweeping sand in your face, but this works too,” Prudencia says.

“It’s pretty epic, Bright,” Emil says.

Happiness surges through me, like watching my follower count increase in the past. “This is only meant to be a teaser of what’s to come. My prologue, if you will.”

Iris scoffs. “Then maybe you shouldn’t open your story with a lie. I never cleared you to become a Spell Walker.”

In the past twenty-four hours, I have been intimate with Prudencia for the first time, had a second shot at life, tapped into my new powers, and put together this video so I can finally have the big moment I’ve been dreaming about for years. Of course Iris has to ruin that.

“But you’re down three team members,” I say.

“Believe it or not, that hasn’t affected my ability to count on my own.”

“I’ve been in this fight when all I had was my camera. Now I have Emil’s and Wesley’s core powers—all in one host! We’re trying to save Ma and Eva and you haven’t been successful tracking them down alone. You need me.”

Iris is staring at me but she seems to be looking through me. If I could read minds I’m sure all of her thoughts would be about Eva. “I might need you, but you won’t be making that decision for me. There’s nothing to suggest that our people haven’t been killed already. So if all I have left is the legacy of the Spell Walkers, I’m going to make sure we don’t do any more damage that will endanger celestials, and keep our numbers from decreasing any further so I don’t have to suffer through another math lesson. The truth is, Brighton, I don’t trust you.”

She gets up and walks toward her room and I’m very tempted to dash in front of her, but I control myself because I know that’s out of line.

Working with the Spell Walkers has had many lows but it’s also been a dream come true. As incredible as it would be to join the ranks like my brother and become even more famous