Starlight (Book 1)

42: Wings of Fire

Amethyst took a step forward.

"Don't move," illusion-Midnight said, and Amethyst stopped. Beneath my feet, the ground rumbled. For a second, both Midnights teetered unsteadily, balanced at the end of a knife. The ground collapsed; broken stones and asphalt disturbed by the noise Echo's power created. I shielded my face, but it was no use—the impact collided with my chest, the catalyst of an explosion—a shimmering suit flickering, a beacon.

My feet left the ground. I flew as though my body was made of glass, my eyes forcibly closing. My knuckles took the brunt of the fall, catching myself short of hurtling face-first into the sidewalk.

I could hear my heartbeat, pulsating. The whine of my hearing aids. My fingers were slick. A pressure, sharp and persistent, on my side.

"Next time." My eyes opened at the sound of Terry's voice. His hands shining steady purple, dissolving in an instant. His power. He used his power. "Don't just fucking stand there."

In the distance, Mirage was yelling, distress flowing through her tone. "Echo!"

At the center of the storm stood Midnight, poised over Echo. In her hands, a fresh needle. Mirage, sprinting, would never catch her in time. "So, this is how it ends," she said, as though she had all the time in the world. "There's a philosophy about this, you know. They say that when you have to make an impulsive decision, it reveals your true loyalty. You made the wrong choice, this time, and saved the one girl who will be your demise."

Echo gingerly lifted her hand, curling her fingers, her eyes closing. I felt the hair on my arms raise, and when I glanced at my sides, I could see twisting embers tumbling from my arms. The delicate twisting fire extended behind my back, arching at my shoulder blades, creating a pair of wings that looked forged from the heat.

In the mere seconds before Midnight plunged the needle into Echo's shoulder, she'd given me wings.

And with finality, Midnight stabbed the needle into Amethyst, dropped Echo, and scampered off into the thick cover of the trees.

It took a few seconds before Amethyst's brainwashing lifted. When it did, she stared at the shattered pavement beneath her, the cowering reporters who hadn't yet fled. She scooped Echo into her arms. "She is going to be okay," she said to Mirage. "She's just exhausted from the blast. All of you are unharmed?" She looked at each of us, the guilt plastered on her expression. I caught her eyes and tried my best to smile.

"You need to get out of here," Amethyst advised. "Villains are still on the loose, and now..."

Mirage nodded. She took Echo from Amethyst and held her close. "Don't worry about us. As long as we have Starlight, we're going to win."

***

By the time we'd gotten to the hideout, I felt like I was going to fall over and pass out. Mirage's words swirled around in my head, over and over like a possessed carousel ride. As long as we have Starlight.

Mirage gently set Echo down, propping her up against the hideout wall. "Isn't this place quaint?"

"We're working on it," defended Terry. Then, quieter, "Did Echo pass out?"

He looked at me. I understood his expression instantly. He was thinking about Midnight's philosophy. If he'd saved Echo from the blast instead of me...

"It's not your fault," Mirage murmured. "I didn't know you could teleport. That was actually pretty cool."

Terry shrugged. "I didn't know I could do it either," he said dimly.