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Brighton and Prudencia out of here. I can’t believe I’m out here giving instructions, but time is wasting. The higher I get up the steps, the more my rib cage aches. I throw a fire-dart and catch the shape-shifter in the leg. He falls down, taking Dione with him, but Stanton catches her. I grab the shape-shifter as June fades in.

“Leave him,” Stanton says.

The shape-shifter looks up at me with Iris’s eyes, and he’s too weak to fight. The real Iris hoists him over her shoulder.

“Looks like we got a win of our own,” Iris says.

The arena is fully catching fire now. The smoke is suffocating, but we all manage to break free with my light guiding the way. Out in the parking lot, I turn around, and the destruction is blinding—a mountain of gray and orange fire, the flames licking away at the dark sky. The sun swallower emerges and flies into the night. Its freedom reminds me how happy I am to watch this building turn into ashes.

Iris drops the shape-shifter to the ground and kneels beside him. “Tell us why Luna needed that hydra.”

“And where I can find June,” Maribelle adds.

A laugh sneaks past the shape-shifter’s groaning. “You’re insane if you think I would sell out Luna.” He props himself against a car door. “You can kick me around all you want, but that’s nothing compared to what Luna will do.”

“I’m happy to step outside my comfort zone,” Maribelle says. “Pick your poison.”

She was ready to kill one Blood Caster. The odds aren’t looking great for him.

“You’re bluffing.”

“You’re underestimating how much I want to punch that face you’re wearing.” Maribelle clocks the shape-shifter in the jaw, and he falls over. She turns to Iris.

Iris rolls her eyes. “Was that necessary?”

“Better him than you,” Maribelle says.

The dull gray light spreads across the shape-shifter and washes away Iris’s features. His Spell Walker gear fades, and he’s left in nothing but sweatpants, sneakers, and a tank top that reveals the kind of toned arms the world has always told me I should have too. He’s about my age with light brown skin, dark eyebrows, and even darker hair that’s curly on top and shaved down on the sides.

I know his face. The entire country knows his face.

It’s Senator Iron’s son, Eduardo.

The one who died in the Blackout.

Twenty-ThreeInterrogation

EMIL

We’re discreet when we return to Nova. It’s wild that Eduardo is somehow alive, but that’s got to stay a secret until we know what’s what. Iris carries him into an old supplies closet, and Maribelle locks him up. I try telling Maribelle that chaining his ankle to a busted radiator isn’t necessary, but she’s not having it. Everyone is grouped together out in the hallway, in desperate need of showers and sleep, but they keep peeking into the closet like Eduardo is the wildest celebrity sighting ever.

Iris crosses her arms. “We can’t fit the entire team in there.”

Maribelle already has one foot back in the closet. “Don’t even try to stop me.”

“It’ll only be the two of us,” Iris says.

“I should record,” Brighton says.

“We’re not documenting this,” Iris says.

Brighton squints. “Why not? Iron has built his campaign on public fear and the death of his son—who isn’t dead! This could be the final push to get Sunstar in office.”

I wonder how much Brighton is dreaming about the Pulitzer he could get from uncovering this story.

Iris doesn’t offer another word as she and Maribelle step in, closing the door behind them.

My brother is fuming. I rest my hand on his shoulder, knowing I got to be gentle about this. “It’s one thing to film me, Bright, but we can’t put Eduardo on blast like that. You should go edit the video or something.”

Brighton shrugs off my hand. “Don’t ‘or something’ me like editing the video is equivalent to literally anything else. Not after I’ve personally started turning the tides to restore this team’s reputation.”

Atlas and Wesley exchange a that’s-our-cue glance and take off together, leaving me alone with Brighton and Prudencia.

Brighton stares at the door. “You do realize they’re about to interrogate Eduardo, right? There’s no way Maribelle is going to go easy on him.”

“Even more reason why you shouldn’t be in there filming,” Prudencia says.

“Whatever.”

He walks off.

“Nothing is ever enough for him,” Prudencia says.

Truth. We’ve given him access to the missions, even though I hate risking his and Prudencia’s lives. We let Brighton film the Spell Walkers exposing their stories to launch his campaign. His hunger can’t be satisfied, like when his power brawl video did astronomically better than anything he’s uploaded before, but he was down on himself because it wasn’t viral enough. I really miss those simpler days when we were brainstorming names for his channel. Dad was his first subscriber. Ma pawned off family jewelry to buy Brighton his first camera. Maybe Brighton’s ego is our fault.

I’m about to chase after him when I hear commotion inside the closet. I stare at the door with a pounding heart. There’s no way Eduardo has gotten the jump on Iris and Maribelle.

“Want me to stay with you?” Prudencia asks, watching Brighton turn the corner.

“Yeah, but no. Go ahead.”

She nods at the supplies room. “Good luck with that.”

“Back at you.”

I let myself in. Maribelle is hovering over Eduardo, who is massaging his new bloody lip.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Maribelle ignores me. “Tell me how I can find June.”

“Also how Luna infused a celestial with creature essence,” Iris adds.

“And maybe how you survived the Blackout?” I ask, my voice cracking.

Eduardo shakes his head. “It may not seem like it as you turn me into your punching bag, but this is not some negotiation. Besides, I’ve already won.”

“Oh yeah? What did you win?” Maribelle asks.

Eduardo looks from wall to wall. “I mean, I could go for a bed and some rosewood candles to get rid of the dirty mop smell. But I’ll take whatever security I can get from the Casters.”

“Are you serious?” Iris asks.

“I’ll settle for vanilla candles if that’s all

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