Infinite

32 LIGHT

THE SKY WAS deep violet when I opened my eyes.

My skin tingled and my heart thrummed too fast. Maybe this was what it felt like to be struck by lightning.

Janan was gone, as were most of the citizens of Heart, though the skeletons were still there, their silver chains dull and tarnished. The expelled temple rocks were murky white now, no life left in them. The sylph were gone, too.

“Sam!” I jerked up and scrambled to my feet, stumbling down off the dais before I realized Sam wasn’t standing by the phoenix cage anymore. He was slumped on the ground, breathing shallowly. Someone had placed my flute in his arms, but it slipped from his grasp as I dropped to my knees before him. “Sam.”

He made opening his eyes look like agony. “Ana. I waited for you.” His voice was a pale breath, a memory.

“Didn’t anyone help you?” I checked the bandages on his shoulder; they were new, but damp with sweat and blood.

“There’s nothing to help. I’m sorry.” His good arm jerked upward, but it fell and he sighed. I took his hand and pressed his palm on my face, now slick with tears. “That was it, wasn’t it?” he asked. “The phoenix song?”

“I think so.” It had felt like magic, and it had stripped Janan of his immortality. Sam had been humming. So had others. The sylph. And the phoenix.

Had I used the song? Or had Sam?

Did it matter?

The dragons had been afraid the phoenix song would destroy them. The song hadn’t destroyed Janan; sparing him had still been my decision, in the end. But we’d made him mortal again. If no one else killed him first, he’d one day die of old age.

Sam’s fingers curled against my cheek. “You have it in you now. The light. I see it. Beautiful.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But I did know, didn’t I? My heart raced, my thoughts were sharp and clear, and something had changed inside me.

I looked around, but the only one left was the phoenix. The cage door hung open and the phoenix itself perched nearby, wings tucked against its sides.

“Ana,” it said, voice high and low and everything in between.

Now it spoke back?

“The sylph have gone to absorb the fires beneath the caldera, to settle it and keep it from erupting further.”

“No.” Cris had told me that wasn’t possible. It was too much. “That will kill them.”

“Yes,” said the phoenix. “And they will be reborn, per our agreement. They will have one life, the life they would have had if they hadn’t followed Janan that day.”

“What about everyone else?” What about Sam? I could still feel his pulse fluttering weakly under his skin, but for how much longer? What happened when he died? I’d already lost everyone else.

“That,” the phoenix said, “is your decision. Dossam is right. The fire of infinity has passed from Janan to you. You took it when you took his blade. You may keep it, or you may give it away, though your body might not survive a second transfer of the light.”

Meaning I could die. Still— “I don’t want it, not if I have to be alone.”

The phoenix bowed its head. “Then I think you know what to do with it. But know that it will work only once. As the sylph are receiving their second chance, that is what you will give to the others.”

Then Stef and Whit and Sarit and Armande might be alive again. And Sam. Would I, too?

I bit my lip before I asked. The answer might sway my decision, and there was only one decision I could make.

“Thank you.”

The phoenix surged up, trailing sparks and ash as morning paled the sky and stars grew dim. The pyroclastic flow was gone. The sky was clear. Dawn was still and quiet. My sylph were saving the world, redemption at last.

Only the quiet gasps of my weeping and the rattle of Sam’s final breaths cracked the air.

I had to work quickly.

I put my flute back into its case, kissed Sam’s lips, and approached the nearest section of chain.

“Ana?” Sam rasped. “What are you doing?”

“I’m choosing you.”

“Wait, think about this.”

“I am.” I forced a smile as I knelt. “And I’m choosing life. I’m choosing you.” Before either of us could say anything more, I closed my hands around the chains that linked everyone together, and released the light. It burst out of me until I was a star exploding.

And I could see everything.