Page 111 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Weighted steel, shiny and sleek. The pommel like a sword’s, warm and supple. It moulded to his hand, anchoring him in this new present. Blake stood back, his hands clamping down on Theron who screamed. His voice hoarse and broken, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth.

But Samuel could no longer hear him.

He had to shoot the box.

The armour took over, whispering to his mind, wrapping him in a numb blanket as it guided his arm. He aimed at the swirling shadows, the coalescing darkness that needed to be destroyed. He needed to do this. He needed to obey. He needed to fulfil the master’s command.

Bang.

The shadows cleared.

Theron’s screams attacked Samuel’s hearing, clawing through his eardrums, burrowing into his mind. Black veins thickened on his face, the umber hue fully black as he cried.

The thin male . . . his name . . . what had it been? He was crumpled before Samuel, blood oozing from his bare chest, a wisp of darkness pulsating from it. Trickles of crimson dripped from his thin mouth and his dark eyes were lifeless. Samuel could only stare and watch as death claimed his soul.

“No!” Theron sobbed. “Ivar! What have you done!”

Rashi laughed, sinister and cold. “Not quite his head, but his heart will do.”

The wildfire of Samuel’s dreams wept, her tears banking her defiance, and something within him withered along with it. No . . . he needed her fire.

The Dark One’s smile widened. “Nothing will stop my army. Nothing will stop my soldiers.”

“You’ll pay for this!” Theron screeched, thudding his bound hands against the floor as Blake allowed his weak body to slide to the ground.

“I’m surprised you didn’t see that one coming, Theron,” Barron replied casually. “Aren’t seers supposed to predict everything?”

Part Three

The Dark One

48

Kora

Huntress, if you can hear me, you need to break free. Follow my voice.”

This wasn’t like the normal void. There was no web of memories, no white lifeline, not even a ripple of Thanos’ presence of the in-between.

All-consuming darkness. Cold. Sticky. Suffocating.

Kora screamed again, but no sound escaped her vocal cords. She scrambled, feeling for something tangible, a sign she still existed, that she was still real.

That Kordelia hadn’t consumed her.

Panic surged, the darkness closing in, smothering her chest, wrapping around her until the air vanished. Kora sobbed as her lungs burned, desperately seeking oxygen. Her limbs seized as her blood pounded in her head for every second that passed, depriving her of life.

Thanos! Thanos, help me!

Even her mental screams were futile. This wasn’t somewhere he could access.

A drop splashed on her face.

Kora glanced up, blinking as the space above her writhed. Living tar spooling and drooping down. She flinched as a tendril latched onto her leg like a leech, biting into her skin. Slimy and thick, its long body attached to the pool of tar above, its end was a circular mouth with endless rows of tiny, black teeth. It screeched, a horrid sound that caused Kora to gag.

Another one darted for her, and she flailed into the nether until dozens of slippery leeches latched onto her, each one causing blinding frozen agony. Her teeth chattered as a sinister laugh skittered across her ears, echoing into the empty space.

She was beneath Barron’s magic.