Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle 2)

I grab my phone and chase after Wesley. He’s already lying in the sand of course and acting like he’s asleep, as if it’s taken me forever to reach him. It won’t be long until I have control over my swift-speed.

Wesley introduces me to some stretches that are not kind on me. I’ve always knocked Emil’s posture, but all the time I’ve spent editing videos on my laptop hasn’t done me any favors either. Emil records us on my phone while Prudencia exercises her power by lifting herself in a pull-up position.

“The most important rule when running with swift-speed is to always be several steps ahead of yourself,” Wesley says. “If you take off aimlessly, you’ll fly over your bed, or worse, almost straight into a moving truck. Not that I know of any thirteen-year-old who was so eager for a new video game that he almost got flattened on the highway.”

After Wesley is done lying about his past, he explains how much more aware of my surroundings I have to be than anyone running at standard speed because even though I can get away from dangers faster, I can als

o find myself facing them first too. My power is tricky since hydras can’t keep up momentum for longer distances like Wesley and other swift-speeded celestials can. I could lose steam right in the middle of a battle and not be able to escape.

“Let’s try it out,” I say.

I take a sprinter’s stance and focus on reaching the coastline. I expect the same jolt forward as all the roller coasters I rode on with Dad—always front row because he loved that adrenaline rush—but my running is as ordinary as ever. Wesley asks me to take deep breaths, which I do. To not think about it, but also concentrate, which I think I do. My burst of speed happened so effortlessly last night when I thought I was going to faint and I accidentally overshot my new power and ended up on the floor. But even that’s not happening right now.

I call “Time-out!” to Wesley and “Cut!” to Emil.

The sun is beating me down. I thought this was going to be easier. Instead I feel like a joke in front of Prudencia, who is telekinetically juggling pears and apples with one hand and building a mound of sand with her other. She’s going to be so powerful, and I’m going to be a one-hit wonder of a specter whose powers never surface again.

“Slow start,” Wesley says.

I wipe the sweat off my head as I realize he’s joking. “Not funny.”

“Quick pause,” Wesley says. Before I can tell him to shut up with the jokes he dashes away and returns with bottles of water for us. “Peace offering.” He sits beside me on the sand. “It’s a fun power, but it’s not always an easy one, Brighton. I grew up with mine, which you know I abused too.”

“After your parents kicked you out,” I say, remembering our Spell Walkers of New York interview.

“Before too. I wasn’t robbing anyone for my own survival yet but my parents were always so frustrated with me. They didn’t plan on having me and gave it a shot. Big regrets since they couldn’t ever keep up with me or get me to slow down. Instead of going home after school I kept exploring the city and one day my father told me that if I didn’t honor curfew he was going to change the locks. I didn’t think they’d kick me out; I was twelve. But they meant it.”

Between Ruth’s parents conceiving her to groom her into an all-powerful celestial and Wesley’s parents locking him out for asserting some independence with his powers, it’s a wonder Ruth and Wesley are so loving to their daughter. Really makes me appreciate how lucky I was to have Dad and Ma—to have Ma still. . . .

“My point is that swift-speed is a survival power. You can use it to rescue others and to save yourself.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I don’t look back that often. I pay attention to where I’m going next. And where I’m going next is inside that beautiful sea because I’m melting in this heat.”

He dashes straight toward the water and runs on top of it, which I didn’t realize he could do. I’ve followed a lot of his media hits over the years and I’m already daydreaming about running up walls like he has. But this is some advanced skill. Strong currents of water trail him like he’s a Jet Ski until all of a sudden he drops beneath the surface.

I bust out laughing and turn to Emil. “Did you record that?”

“You told me to cut,” Emil says.

“You had one job, bro.” My laugh winds down when Wesley doesn’t come back up. “Where is he?”

Prudencia runs toward the sea and is trying to part it but it’s going to take a lot more than juggling fruit before she’s strong enough to do that.

“There!” Emil points.

Wesley is not too far off, but he’s struggling to stay above the surface. I run for him and my body is thrust forward so quickly that I might have whiplash. Sand kicks up around me as I pass Prudencia. Water splashes around my ankles in a matter of seconds. I’m dashing! Dashing on water! I’m a heartbeat away from Wesley but I don’t know how to hit the brakes on my power safely, so I just stop and fall beneath the surface. I tumble around for moments that feel longer than it took for me to run here. Wesley helps me out and he’s laughing as I blow out all the water that shot up my nose.

“I can’t believe it worked!” Wesley says as he paddles perfectly to stay afloat. “The victim-in-distress is the oldest trick in the book! Even I didn’t fall for that as a kid!”

I almost snap at him, but I laugh instead because this is huge. I ran with purpose and direction and the adrenaline rush of needing to save him gave me the charge I was missing. Not only that, my first successful dash was on water. This is what I’m talking about—I’m next level.

We’re swimming back to shore and Emil is standing there shocked. Of course he didn’t manage to get this on camera either, but I’ll let it slide this time since we really thought Wesley was in danger. Not that there’s anything powerless Emil could’ve done about it.

Wesley pats me on the back. “You just needed some motivation. Let’s try again now that you’re more familiar.”

I make sure Emil is recording before Wesley coaches me further. Thank the stars because I’ve really got the hang of this. It’s like riding a bike. I dash all the way down to a distant neighbor’s bonfire and reverse, making it back in under four minutes. I never realized it would feel so draining, but it’s like when Emil described carrying his fire as heavy. Wielding gleam isn’t easy. Those of us who can endure are the real champions of this world. After a few more successful runs, Wesley challenges me to a game of tag to test my abilities to keep sight of a moving target in the event I ever need to chase down other swift-speeders like he has in the past. Time moves differently when you can run at an above-average rate. It feels like I’ve been running for an hour, and when I stop to catch my breath, Prudencia tells me it’s only been ten minutes. I call it quits before I can catch him.

Wesley skids by me, sand kicking up. “That was a better start, Brighton. You’ll catch me one day.”

“I’ll outrun you one day,” I say with a grin.