“The Rite.” I grabbed his arm, my fingers digging in. “Why would Vaeris cancel the most beloved celebration in Skaldir? Fae love it. They travel from all over the realm to attend. He knew people wouldhatehim for it. So why do it anyway?”
Kairos stilled.
“Unless stopping it was the point. What if the Rite isn’tabout refilling Skalgard’s runes? What if it’s…maintenance?”
“Maintenance,” he repeated slowly.
“It’s a sacrifice. Yearly. In the same location, forcenturies.” My voice shook. “‘Blood was spilled to stop the foe.’ What if the Rite is what’s been keeping the seal closed?”
Kairos’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Yes. Executions happen in the Square right over that rune. Kairos, it’s been under our feet this whole time!”
He stared at me like I’d struck him. “You’re telling me…that the throats I cut on that platform…every life I took…”
“Was poured into a cage.”
He turned, a hand raking through his hair. “A hundred years of blood on my hands, and it was never pointless.”
“You didn’t know.”
He laughed bitterly. “I thought I was a monster for nothing. Turns out I wasn’t. I’m not sure which is worse.”
I reached for him, but he stepped back.
“Vaeris knew,” he said flatly. “He’s always known.”
The Rite should’ve happened weeks ago. How long could the seal hold without fresh blood?
I forced the words out. “Vaeris isn’t burning villages to pressure you. He’s distracting you while the seal weakens.”
50
DRAGONFIRE
Kairos gathered everyone in the courtyard. The sun was already sliding west, but we couldn't afford to wait for morning.
After a tense discussion with the others, we decided to ride to Skalgard immediately. Uther, Elwen, me, and seven warriors—including Barra, the female I’d helped with the cursed sword, and Torvin, who hadn’t looked at me the same since I healed his king. The rest were fae who’d accompanied us to Vaelrith. Kairos had wanted his most seasoned killers, but these warriors had shown up without being summoned.
He surveyed them as the wind howled. Red lightning flickered across his horned helm and mist curled off him like breath from a beast.
“This is not a war march.” Kairos’s black mantle swept the ground. “It’s a walk into a wolf’s jaws. Don’t expect glory.”
The warriors lifted their eyes.
Barra pressed her fist to her chest. “We know, my king.”
“Then why have youcome?”
Barra glanced at me before returning her attention to him. “Every healer said the curse on my arm was permanent. She fixed it in an afternoon.”
Kairos’s gaze flicked to me.
“She didn’t hesitate,” Barra added. “Didn’t ask for payment.”
A low hum of approval rippled through the warriors.
Kairos turned to me, his eyes shining with pride. The wind tore at his mantle as he shifted his attention, fixing Torvin with a hard stare. “Andyou. What are you doing here?”
