forehead.
“I’m back, I’m back,” I whisper.
“You’re okay,” Emil says, still sitting where we first started.
Retrocycling has the potential to be beautiful. But this was a nightmare.
“I’m going to kill Luna,” I say.
“What happened?” Tala asks.
“Can someone fill us in already?” Brighton asks. “Curious minds.”
I’m half expecting to feel Sera’s emotions, but I only feel mine since I’m no longer by her side. There’s one takeaway I keep rolling around in my head. “How did we not know that Luna was Sera’s mother?”
“Wait—what?!” Brighton asks.
Everyone is as surprised as I was, and this is the problem. Sera being an alchemist herself wasn’t enough of a clue, but it’s certainly an important piece of the puzzle now. Why didn’t Mama and Papa tell me? Sera said it wasn’t necessary for me to know that I was her daughter, but why couldn’t they have trusted me with the knowledge that Sera’s mother was Luna? Maybe to them it didn’t matter, but it’s yet another family secret, and this better be the last one I hear from anyone or so help me.
“How did we not know?!” I shout.
“I’m remembering something,” Emil says. “When Luna had me hostage, she mentioned something about a traitor enthralling Bautista. She didn’t say anything else about them, but Sera fits the bill.”
“Why didn’t you mention that sooner?”
“It didn’t seem important with everything else we had going on,” he softly says.
The number of ways I’ve been screwed over by this sad excuse of a chosen one is astounding. “I plan on honoring Sera by undoing all of Luna’s work. You better have memorized those potion ingredients because I’m not reliving that again!”
Emil nods vigorously. He grabs the journal and begins marking the true names of the ingredients. I hear him talking about crushed torch grains before I tune him out.
All the pain I’ve been through this year feels cruel. It’s as if the gods hidden in the constellations hate me, as if they’re punishing me for defying nature with my existence as a hybrid celestial-specter. Grieving my parents and Atlas has been hard enough, but living in Sera’s heart as she loses the love of her life and the father of her child? Of me? I have to repay blood with blood, and all roads lead back to Luna.
Tala takes the journal from Emil and reads. “I’m not in love with exploiting a phoenix’s pain to use their tears, but it’s certainly better than all potions that call for their eyes and talons. There’s an underground market in the city where I’ve done business before. They should carry some of these rarer ingredients.”
“We’re going to get a bloody Nobel Prize out of this, yeah?” Wyatt asks. “Well, posthumously awarded to Sera and Bautista.” Everyone is staring at him. “Messing around, of course. Long live our phoenixes, heh.”
“Maribelle, ride with me?” Tala helps me up. “Everyone else stay put.”
“We can help,” Brighton says.
“You can help by keeping your famous face away from the public,” Tala says.
He turns to me as if he wants my support, but I’m following Tala’s lead here. “We need discretion.”
“Fine. But this fight is all of ours,” Brighton says.
“Absolutely. As long as it’s understood that Luna is mine.”
It’s my duty to kill my last living family member.
Forty-Eight
Oblivion Night
EMIL
It’s wild how much time I lost while traveling to the past.
I already didn’t get enough sleep last night, but now I’m so drained. Brighton brings me two salad bowls with tofu, quinoa, and chickpeas, and I could easily throw back another. I’ve already given Wyatt my official report on everything that went down while retrocycling, and while he’s busy updating his commander, Brighton is still picking away at every last detail. I swear he won’t chill until he can grow out a beard like Bautista.
“He had more edge than I expected,” I say.
“Of course. No one ever saved the world by being casual about it,” Brighton says. That feels like a slight against me. He picks up his phone. “Are we sure we can’t do any content about retrocycling? Now that we have the potion ingredients, we can make sure that if anyone even thinks about trying something then the Infinity Kings will stop them.”
Prudencia rests her hand on Brighton’s shoulder. “It’s not in our best interest to brag about retrocycling. We need to surprise the Blood Casters with the Starstifler so they won’t be prepared.”
“Good point,” he says.
“We’re also going to be drinking the potion ourselves,” I remind him.
Brighton looks like he’s fighting back a massive eyeroll. “You