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Back The Infinity Courts Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I tug at the sleeve of my jacket, unable to hide my smile. Or formulate words. Because there was once a time Gil would’ve happily left me in War if he could’ve. And now he’s in his room making me presents like we’re friends. Like we’re sharing something I used to think only Finn and I would share.

Finn feels like a stranger to me now. But Gil…

I can’t believe how much things have changed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I shift my feet nervously, and he nods. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Gil looks away, eyes drifting to the floor. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” I say firmly, and his eyes snap back to mine. “I know what I have to do. But I guess what I want to know is—” I hesitate, twisting my mouth like I’m uncertain how to get across what I’m feeling. Which I suppose is mostly shame. “When this is all over, do you think I’ll have done the right thing?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

I know what he means. He’s never been anything but transparent about his feelings on Residents versus humans. Whatever the cost is for human freedom, he will gladly pay it.

Even if it means wiping out every last Resident.

“I want to hear you say it,” I say finally. “I want to hear that you think I’m making the right choice and that doing this won’t make me a monster. I want you to tell me you won’t look at me differently, like I’m cold and uncaring.” I pause. “I want you to tell me that I’ll still be a good person after it’s all done.”

Gil stands, letting his hand drift away from the chair, and takes a few careful steps toward me. “You know it’s still your choice, right?”

I frown, surprised. “What happened to not having the luxury of a choice?”

“I know what it is to have your heart worn down,” he says seriously. “And if you do this, you need to be strong enough to carry the scars. Because we may know the wound, but we can’t predict how deep or how far a scar will go.” He pauses, eyes tracing my face. “I know you want to believe in coexistence. And I still think there are a billion reasons why it won’t work. But if it’s what you truly want? If this is the path you’re prepared to take? Then I’ll follow it with you.”

“Why are you saying this to me?” My throat knots. Why now, when I’ve already made up my mind?