#Chapter85-01The lights couldn't have been off for more than ten seconds, but by the time everything converted back to how it had been before the darkness had struck, everything felt . . . wrong?
Colder than the grave, the icy tendrils that had immobilized me, that had rooted me to the spot, overruling the need I had felt to get to Lumen, had lessened, but looking around proved that I hadn't been the only one affected. Pools of air formed around Jonathan's mouth, his eyes wide; it was perhaps the first time in my life that I had ever seen him look afraid, and it was like a bullet through my ribs.
Clarke had crumpled to the floor, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing coming out in thick, heavy puffs. Custer . . . he had paled to the resemblance of a three-week-old corpse, and if not f
