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“Then we better keep it moving,” Brighton says, moving across the beach.
Tala kisses Roxana between the eyes. “I’m coming back for you.”
I admire her strength as she runs toward the Bounds, her crossbow at the ready.
Maybe we’ll both fire arrows into Luna at the same time.
Sixty-Six
The Bounds
BRIGHTON
Showtime.
We make our way up to the Bounds, sticking to the shadows the entire time. Maribelle is able to sense danger beyond a tree, grabbing Emil’s arm before he can fall down a trap where a blood orange basilisk is curled around a spike, its tail rattling. Prudencia telekinetically covers the hole with a nearby boulder, leaving enough space for air and moonlight but not enough to burst up and kill us.
There are four towers, and we stand outside the closest.
I prepare them for phasing, assuring them they won’t feel anything.
They’re lucky that way.
I turn on ghost mode, straining for air and freezing as I peek through the thick stone wall. The hallway is filtered stark white and shadowy like an X-ray because of my power. I get everyone through as quickly as I can, beginning with Emil, Maribelle, and Prudencia so they can defend me if guards appear in the meantime. I get Tala through right as it feels like some blood vessels might pop behind my eyes, and as I grab Wyatt, I’m certain I’m going to pass out and we’ll both be frozen inside this wall forever.
Emil grabs my wrist, pulling me into the prison. “You good?”
My breaths are shallow. “Just a lot of people,” I say as color fills the world again. “Got us through.”
Prudencia rubs my back, and her touch grounds me in my body. “You all go ahead. Time is limited.”
Maribelle and Tala take off down one hallway, dark yellow phoenix fire lighting their path.
“Play this smart, Bright,” Emil says, holding out his fist.
“Stay alive, bro,” I say, fist-bumping and whistling with him.
I don’t think either of us ever thought this childhood handshake would follow us into a prison.
“I’ll protect him,” Prudencia says as she hugs Emil. “Get going.”
Emil and Wyatt run the opposite way, and Emil looks over his shoulder before they round the corner, as if this might be the last time we see each other. He’s forgetting that we’re the Infinity Kings—we’re going to go on and on and on.
“This is a literal nightmare,” Prudencia says. She keeps looking back and forth down the two hallways as if someone is going to emerge from the shadows. “It’s even darker than they make it look in documentaries.”
I hold her hand, trying to stay strong. We go down a curvy staircase and reach a level that smells like backed-up toilets and body odor. We cover our noses with the headbands and cautiously go down a hall toward a buzzing sound. Behind a wall there’s an electric fence surrounding the cell of a sleeping inmate. Prudencia leads me away.
“What’s the rush? That could be Ness for all we know.”
“We don’t have time to interview every inmate who might be Ness in disguise,” Prudencia says.
“You tell that to Emil when we leave without Ness.”
“Ness has no reason to hide anymore. Everyone knows he’s alive. Where would they have put him? Solitary confinement? A custom cell?”
“His power isn’t dangerous enough for that,” I say.
Those custom cells are more for the likes of powerful people like me. If I had to design a cell to lock up someone with Reaper’s Blood, I’d start with shackles to prevent any dashing at unsuspecting guards, put them inside a tank of water so any phoenix fire will be short-lived, and entrap the specter in a gleam-shield to prevent them from phasing through any wall, ceiling, or floor. I bet I’d still find a way out.
