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

swipe the sweat out of my eyes so I can see clearly. Emil and Maribelle have nosebleeds mixing in with the gallons of sweat cascading down their foreheads. Strangely, their teeth are chattering so hard they might crack if we don’t gag them with a shirt or something. In both of my attempts to retrocycle, it never felt as extreme as this looks.

They’ve pulled it off. They’re going back to Bautista’s and Sera’s lives.

“Brighton!” Prudencia grabs my hand. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Nothing happened,” I say.

“So Carolina is alive. That’s a really good start. There’s hope for her.”

Prudencia is watching Emil, and I think we’re both questioning if there’s hope for him.

“This doesn’t look normal,” I say. The heat radiating off Emil and Maribelle is intense. “Should we wake them up?”

Wyatt walks circles around them. “Many tried waking up their phoenixes, but when most creatures and animals are hibernating, they only wake up when it’s their time.”

“My brother isn’t a phoenix! If we can’t wake him up, let’s get a fire extinguisher or buckets of water!”

I’m going to shake Emil awake. I surround my hand in silver and sapphire flames, hoping it’ll hurt less as I touch Emil’s fire, but if worse comes to worst and I lose a hand, I can grow a new one. I reach for him when Maribelle gasps, her dark yellow flames vanishing.

Maribelle frantically looks around the room. “I heard her.”

“Who? What happened?” Tala asks.

“Sera.” Maribelle fights back tears in her eyes. “I think she was dying.”

Tala takes this in. “Maybe her death was the closest doorway into her life.”

Wyatt nods along. “Brilliant. The point of the cycle isn’t to begin at the beginning, but to connect your beginning to her end.” Wyatt’s eyes widen as he bounces. “Oh, my holy blazes, we bloody did it!”

I want to punch this guy. “You’re celebrating this while my brother—”

Emil screams as his gold and gray flames dissipate. His eyes are wide like he’s seen something horrific; I wonder if I looked anything like that when Dad spat his blood on me before slumping over dead. Emil is shaking uncontrollably until Wyatt wraps his arms around him. Emil cries as he presses a hand to his sides, hiding his face in Wyatt’s shoulder.

“You’re safe,” Wyatt says. He places a hand on Emil’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“He was sitting in fire, genius,” I say. “Bro, what happened? Did you see Bautista?”

He doesn’t say anything.

This is unearthing so many awful, powerless feelings from over the years. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m really confused over how Emil figured it out before me. No offense to him, but come on. Not only am I stronger as the Infinity Savior with Reaper’s Blood, but learning has always been more instinctive to me. Emil couldn’t even assemble his tiny dresser—that came with instructions!—without my help.

“That was a whole other world,” Maribelle says. The last time I saw her gaze this distant was hours after Atlas died. “I felt like I was everywhere and nowhere. The more I accepted Sera as my mother, the more my senses were overloaded with things that don’t make sense. I smelled the color blue as memories of my life came into focus.”

Emil perks up, more blood smeared across his face. “I stopped rejecting my connection to Bautista. Stopped pretending that I didn’t used to be him. Then I swore I heard the gold fire on Bautista’s skin even though he was nowhere in sight.”

“Perhaps it’s a synesthesia of sorts,” Wyatt says, ignoring Emil’s blood on his shirt. “Senses may be bleeding into each other as you traverse into other lives.”

Is this why retrocycling didn’t click with me? I used logic: think about the past, go to the past. How could I have known that heightened senses were going to lead the way? Emil and Maribelle need to enlighten me on the details that prompted everything.

“Bright, did you see Ma and Dad?”

“No, but we should all try again. Let’s go.”

“No way,” Emil says. “I got to chill for a sec.”

“It’s more draining than you can imagine,” Maribelle says to me. “I’m starving and exhausted.”

Tala helps Maribelle to her feet. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

“I need a nap,” Emil says. “Or a sleep. And some ice for my wounds.”

“I’ll prepare a salve for you,” Wyatt says. “We can revisit this when you’re all feeling up to it.”

Prudencia must be able to sense that I’m about to fight back because she rests her hand on my shoulder. I can’t believe I’m watching Emil, Wyatt, Maribelle, and Tala leave like there isn’t more work to be done here.

“This is a gigantic breakthrough and they’re all going to grab a bite and nap away,” I say.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one truly committed to making this world a better place.

“Brighton . . .”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

I have to bite my tongue. I’m relieved she can’t read my mind because I would only support her argument. Nosebleeds and shivers and feeling hot is child’s play compared to my blood poisoning and arm literally burning off. But if I spoke that truth right now I would be insensitive to Emil’s and Maribelle’s exhaustion and empty stomachs.

Prudencia hugs me. “I’m on your side. All I’m saying is we don’t know what they’ve been through.”

“I should find out. I’m going to try again now that I know more.”

Prudencia looks me in the eyes. “There’s no world where you weren’t.”

“So you’ll stay with me?”

“I’m here.”

“Will you record me?”

“This is still a sacred space I want to respect,” she says. “But I won’t fling your camera to the skies if you only use the footage for research.”

“Good compromise,” I say and kiss her. There’s one thing that could stop me from trying to retrocycle right now.

“What are you doing differently this time?”

This is the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do. “Maribelle found herself on the edge of Sera’s death. I think I have to go back to Dad’s. I have the unfortunate advantage