Page 103 of Poison Sun

The driver stops at the start of the pier, and Cassandra shoves a wad of cash to him through the small opening in the plastic barrier.

“Wait here,” she tells him. “I have more where that came from. We’ll be back soon.”

He glances around in confusion. “There’s nowhere to park…”

“Then circle around until you see us come back out.”

It’s a command—not a question—and he simply nods in agreement.

Cassandra reaches for the handle and looks back to me. “Ready?”

No, I think, memories of the attack at Central Park rushing through my mind. Of the horde of shadow souls who tracked me down, drawn toward me simply for existing.

They’ll sense me the moment I step out of this cab. They might hesitate to cross the highway to get to me, but they’ll still sense me.

“Yes,” I say instead, hoping that by speaking the word, it’ll become true.

My magic warms inside me, as if reminding me that despite the poison swirling through my veins, there’s still hope.

Without another word, Cassandra swings the door open and steps out into the night.

Heart pounding, I follow suit, hyper aware of everything around me. There’s no one else walking around here this time of night. No sign of any shadow souls, either.

Silently, we walk the flat, wooden bridge that leads into the island. It’s closed for the night, but that doesn’t stop us from jumping the gate.

Walking under the huge concrete arch into the island is like entering a cave that leads to another world. Straight ahead, paths and staircases lead up and around the hill, winding through lush gardens and trees. There’s no pattern to their locations and directions—the whole thing is so incredibly random.

Quickly upon entering, there’s a large, flat gathering space to the right. It’s the type of space where families and couples would gather during the day, getting snacks and drinks from the food trucks to enjoy at the chairs and tables scattered about.

Now, it’s deserted.

There are no signs of Lucas, Abigail, and Yannick anywhere.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I whisper, although it somehow manages to sound loud in the stillness of the empty park.

“I’m sure.” She scans the area, hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword sheathed by her side. “Follow me. And be quiet.”

I nod in understanding and pull one of my daggers out of my boot.

I leave my other hand free in case I need to use my magic. I have to conserve it, but at least it’s there—for now—if I truly need it.

Then, we move like shadows through the winding paths and steps of Little Island. Cassandra leads with a silent, commanding presence, her eyes scanning the environment with a predator’s focus. I trail behind her, my senses heightened, every rustle in the bushes making my heart race.

The gardens, paths, and stairs seem designed to disorient. So, we stick to the shadows, avoiding the open spaces where the light of the crescent moon shines overhead.

The moon isn’t the source of my magic. That’s Ruby’s domain. However, the moon doesn’t produce its own light. Its light is a reflection of the sun.

And so, I focus on soaking in the little light from it that I can, hoping it can fuel my magic at least a tiny bit.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much of anything.

Maybe it would work for a full moon. But with this sliver of crescent, I barely feel a thing.

Time to refocus on following Cassandra, who’s heading to the back of the island. I know from my first time here that we’re almost to the sunken, wooden amphitheater, which backs up to the river.

As we approach, the sound of distant voices carries to us, muffled but unmistakable.

We share a glance, a silent agreement.

---