“We have to take the risk,” I said.
Kairos exhaled slowly. “Go on.”
The warriors went first, disappearing into oblivion. Then Elwen and Uther. Kairos gestured for me.
I hesitated before I stepped through. The world dissolved into silver light. Then the ground rushed up and hit me.
I stumbled and Kairos’s hand caught my elbow, steadying me. We stood on a wide plateau near the mountain’s peak, the portal shimmering behind us. It fizzled for a few more seconds and winked out.
Uther grimaced. “There goes our way back.”
The crisp bite of mountain air stung my cheeks. Snowcrunched under my boots as I steadied myself. Kairos moved to the edge, the warriors fanning behind him.
“I expected patrols,” Kairos muttered. “Archers. Something.”
Uther crouched beside him. “It’s too quiet.”
Elwen pointed toward the distant plains, and my stomach dropped.
Hundreds of warriors and tents dotted the frozen grass. Cookfires smoked under the grim sky, blue-and-gold banners snapping.
Skalgard rose behind the army, the massive stone walls climbing in tiers to a palace over the lower levels, which sprawled out in a maze of streets I knew by heart—the slums, the market, the crooked alleys where Rheya and I learned to disappear. Above it, red lightning snaked through black clouds.
Kairos stared ahead, his jaw locked so tight a vein pulsed in his temple. In his eyes, I saw the blood-soaked platform.
“I need a moment,” he said quietly.
Uther faced the warriors. “Set up camp. Somebody draw a privacy rune. We’re not moving until we have a plan.”
Kairos grabbed his pack and stormed away. An invisible thread pulled taut, demanding I follow him, but I gritted my teeth and stayed put.
Bags slammed onto earth and canvas snapped in the wind. Warriors fanned out, forming a perimeter. I couldn’t stop staring where Kairos had disappeared.
Something was wrong.
A brutal tug yanked beneath my sternum, sharp enough to make me gasp. My boots crunched over the frost as I followed the faint, ragged trail of mist he’d left behind. Itcurled through the rocks like breath, leading toward a solitary tent pitched against a wall of stone.
I stopped, heart hammering. My hand hovered over the flap. Whatever he was feeling, I couldn’t let him face it alone.
Biting my lip, I pushed inside.
53
SOMETHING SACRED
I ducked inside his tent.
Warmth wrapped around me, pulsing from runes along the walls. Thick furs carpeted the ground beside a massive bed, and candles floated near the ceiling.
I forced my gaze to the opposite corner, where steam curled from a copper tub. It was obscene—a pocket of luxury while an army waited below to kill us.
Kairos stood in the middle of the room.
His leather tunic lay at his feet and the linen shirt hung loose, untucked, the laces at his throat undone. His shoulders rose and fell with ragged breaths, and his hands were pressed to his face.
His mist writhed in erratic spirals, like it was protecting him from a threat it couldn’t find.
“Kairos?”
