Page 320 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

A voice like death rumbled past us overhead. “Clever half-breed. Sneaky half-breed, always hiding, running, fleeing.”

“Oh, holy hell,” I breathed as gooseflesh rose despite the heat rolling off the dark inferno. I threw my arm out, halting the group, eyes on the thick brambles above as the swish of membranous wings sent the branches creaking.

“Run, run, run, little cockroach. Fire’s catching—best not to be in its web.”

I narrowed my eyes and slowed my breathing. Through the narrow gaps between thorns, the stars winked out beneath a massive blur, wind slamming through the branches hard enough to make them groan.

Once the beast passed, I glanced to Mags, who nodded—her shadows wrestling his flames into submission. Slowly, we crept down the path, unable to cast light without giving this beast a beacon to home in on.

“Motherfucker is enormous,” Jason muttered, flexing his hand like he was trying to ward off a shift—or debating one.

“Mags, baby, you fucking fought this thing alone?”

“I mean… escaped, is more accurate.”

Jason balked, “Wait, this is the shadow beast that nearly killed her?”

“I really hate that you can think of more than one,” Mags panted, still casting out shadows to suffocate the flames.

For a moment, we all eyed the trees, the fog devouring the smoke, a soft glow permeating the barrier above.

“Okay,” I said, wetting my lips as options snapped into place. “We’ve got a few ways to play this.”

“This is why we love you,” Jason said, his eyes still warily trained skyward. I still couldn’t hear the beast, so we had at least a few seconds.

“Anybody have anything resembling light magic? I’m not talking orbs. I mean the real shit.”

“That’d be a sight, wouldn’t it?” Brody said morosely.

“A man can dream.” There. In the distance, I caught the steady whoosh of wings. “We’re not going to counter him. Not that easily.”

“What else would you counter a shadow dragon with?”

“It’s just a demon,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. “Nothing new.”

“Just a massive bellend,” Jason growled. “First hierarchy?”

“Yeah.”

“It breathes fire,” Brody pointed out.

I shrugged. “So does Ally.”

Jason scoffed, “Terrible example—truly, who uses Death’s Angel⁠—”

“Guys,” Mags cut in. “He’s coming back. What are we doing?”

“Ansel always talked about this theory. A soul nova. But I’m thinking about what comes after—a black hole, right? Mags, can you wield the shadows like a void? Draw gravity in? You certainly have the well for it.”

“Madness,” Jason said.

“Maybe, but would it work?”

Mags was shaking her head, eyes dark as shadows poured off her like liquid. “Even if I knew how to condense it like that, I have no clue if it could disrupt a creature as big as Balorath.”

The branches overhead creaked, a low whistle singing through the air. “During the siege, Cyrus seemed to draw them inside himself.”

“At sunrise,” she pointed out, panic turning the edges of her voice sharp. “Once they were at their weakest.”