Page 61 of Poison Sun

The solar flare sputters out of my hand, falling short before reaching its target, who launches through it unaffected. But he stops mere inches from me, close enough that I can feel the cold absence of light emanating from his body. He doesn’t reach for me, and he doesn’t try to kill me, either.

The rest of the battle seems to pause, a bubble of silence in the chaos.

Then, he speaks, his voice so low that I have to focus extra hard to hear it.

“Your light calls to the Shadow Lord like a beacon in the darkness,” he says, his words a haunting melody that sends ice rushing through my veins. “He offers you a throne of shadows, a kingdom of night.”

Before I can ask what he means, his mouth twists in pain, he lets out an anguished cry, and he dissolves into a puddle of goo at my feet.

Damien’s right there in front of me, his dagger in the space where the shadow soul’s chest was a few seconds earlier.

“Come on,” he says. “We have to get out of here.”

He grabs my hand before I can reply, pulling me through the maze of trees, ducking and weaving through the dark. The wind is at our heels—his magic—helping us move faster than I ever dreamed possible.

But there’s movement at our tails, following us, chasing us. I don’t look behind—any second could be an extra one they have to get closer. Instead, I stay focused on Damien’s hand in mine as we run the rest of the way through the park toward the gates.

Escaping was the plan if the fight got too intense, since we can’t risk continuing to draw more and more shadow souls toward us. But I trust in my heart that the others can take care of the shadow souls that remain—especially after seeing them vanquish the ones back there at an insanely fast rate.

They have to. They’ve put themselves on the line for me, and I won’t accept any of them dying because of me.

Finally, we’re out of the park, back near the street, and Damien forces our way into an open taxi before it has a chance to fully stop.

“Drive!” he barks at the driver as he slams the door shut, his usual composure replaced by urgency to get us out of here.

The driver freezes, his hands gripping the wheel in shock.

I glance worriedly at where we came, ready for the shadow souls that were on our tail to launch themselves at the taxi, pry the doors open, and force their way inside.

They don’t.

Instead, they halt, as if hitting an invisible barrier. And from the way they’re looking around in confusion, you’d think we stepped into a void instead of a taxi.

Two humans walk around them, rolling their eyes in annoyance at them for standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Of course, to them, the shadow souls look perfectly normal. Probably like lost tourists, given their obvious confusion.

“Where to?” the driver asks, getting a hold over himself.

“The Fairmont,” Damien says, rattling off the exact way to get there.

He starts driving, and I turn around to check on the shadow souls, relieved they’re not following.

“They stopped.” I turn back to Damien, confused. “Why would they stop?”

“No idea,” he says, and from the surprise crossing his features, I believe him. “We’ve never run from them before. Warriors don’t run. And they have no issue with trains, so it never crossed our minds that they might be averse to cars…”

He’s quiet for the rest of the way back.

I say nothing. Instead, I keep replaying what that shadow soul said when he attacked.

Your light calls to the Shadow Lord like a beacon in the darkness. He offers you a throne of shadows, a kingdom of night.

It’s not long before we arrive at the Fairmont. Damien’s still lost in thought as we get out of the cab and walk inside, only snapping back into focus when he presses the button to the elevator.

“That shadow soul got pretty close to you,” he says, and my heart jumps into my throat.

He knows.

He heard.

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