Bautista kisses the baby on her forehead. “You hear that, Maribelle? Your parents are making a better world for you.”
“I pray to the stars the potion isn’t used against our kind,” Sera says. “We have to be selective about who we introduce it to. Maybe only the other Walkers so it stays in the family. I wouldn’t even trust the government right now. They could use it on Maribelle whenever she comes into her powers.”
“If she does,” Bautista says. “My blood may have ruined that for her.”
“I know she will.”
“You’re the seer. I’m sure she’ll take after her powerful mother.”
“She would be lucky to have your fire, my sunray.”
“Once these streets are mine, I’m putting my fire out. Full-time dad,” Bautista says with a smile as he kisses baby Maribelle’s forehead again.
What would my life have looked like if they weren’t killed? Would the Blackout have ever happened with Sera around to predict the catastrophe clearly instead of my nagging gut feeling that I couldn’t make sense of? Would we have all transformed the world for t
he better by now so we could’ve had our own home after the streets were cleansed of violent specters?
Sera’s eyes glow like one full moon bouncing between her left and right eye. We’re being warned of a danger so intense that we feel it in our bones, picking at our skin; this is what my power should feel like. Even though I can’t see what she’s seeing, I have history to define the moment she’s dreading. Terror squeezes at her throat and she can’t speak their fates. One moment she was imagining a hopeful future, the next she was seeing that none of it would ever happen. Death may move quickly, but there’s solace in knowing she can prepare.
If only I could’ve braced myself for Atlas.
“Sera, what did you see?” Bautista has never been more frightened either.
“Our end,” Sera whispers. “But only mine and yours. There’s still hope for Maribelle. My mother can never know she’s my daughter. She’ll hunt her down and use her powers like she used me.”
Bautista is trying to stay strong, whereas Emil is crying like this is his own family. In a way, it is.
“What do we do?” Bautista asks as his own tears break through. “It was hard enough hiding your pregnancy this year.”
“I have a plan,” Sera says. She’s sobbing, her lips quivering as she plants a long kiss on baby Maribelle’s cheek. “I’m sorry I won’t be around, my sunflower.”
This is the apology I heard during my first attempt at retrocycling.
“How much time do we have?” Bautista asks.
Sera almost doesn’t want to answer, but time isn’t on their side. “Minutes. My mother and her forces will be breaking in as we speak.”
Rage takes over Bautista as his eyes burn like an eclipse and gray flames burst around his fist. “She isn’t coming anywhere near our daughter. Not unless Luna wants to die with us.”
Even though I can’t feel Emil’s shock, I know we’re the only two people in the room feeling it.
Luna is Sera’s mother—and my grandmother.
Forty-Four
History
BRIGHTON
Emil and Maribelle are glowing like rays of sun. They’re sweating within their gold and gray and dark yellow flames and while words occasionally slip out, I have no idea what’s actually happening. All I know is they must have successfully retrocycled.
I can’t believe this. Emil is meeting my hero, his past life, while Maribelle is with her biological mother. How does it work? Have they become them? Do they have any control? No one thought they would, but we didn’t know any of this was possible before we came along. The rules for a phoenix don’t have to be the same rules for specters with phoenix powers.
Thirty minutes in, Prudencia asks, “What if they’re stuck?”
“It hasn’t even been an hour,” Tala says. “Phoenixes don’t go in and out.”
Wyatt nods. “The only gray sun on record for retrocycling returned from hibernation after two days.”