Chapter 52 The City
THE CITY
They dragged the scout to Kairos.
When they dropped him, he stayed where he collapsed, blood sliding down from a gash above his brow. Then Kairos strode forward, and a tense silence fell on the camp.
A familiar chill crept down my spine.
When I was a girl, my mother would shield my eyes when the executioner emerged on the platform. He was terrifying—that ratty cloak hanging from his massive frame, his hood casting everything in shadow except the cruel line of his mouth.
When he walked into the Square, dread rolled through the crowd like his mist. I could still feel it—the sick anticipation that something terrible was about to happen, and no one could stop it.
That same heaviness filled my lungs. I wasn’t afraid of Kairos anymore, but I still feared what he could do.
Kairos stared down at the male.
The scout inched backward, his bound hands scrabbling at the ground as he breathed in broken sobs. Kairos stepped closer, and the scout flinched violently.
“Look at me,” Kairos said quietly.
The male lifted his head, moaning.
“Name.”
“B-Bastian. I’m just a scout, I wasn’t—”
“I didn’t ask what you were.”
Kairos’s mist curled along the ground, wrapping around the scout’s ankle. “How many soldiers are in Skalgard?”
“I-I don’t know.”
The mist tightened and yanked, and a crack echoed through the clearing. The male screamed, collapsing to his side.
“How many?” Kairos asked.
The scout trembled. He raised his head, tears cutting through the dirt on his face. “Three warbands. A hundred men, maybe less.”
The warriors scoffed, and Kairos crossed his arms.
“It’s the truth. I swear it!”
“A hundred men,” Kairos murmured, exchanging a look with Uther. “That’s all Vaeris spares to guard his own throne?”
“It’s all he has,” the scout raved, spittle dribbling down his chin. “The northern lords are dead, someone has to occupy their lands. He’s got warbands burning villages across the border, garrisons in every city to keep order. People are panicking—”
“What about the rest of his forces?”
“Outside the city,” he blurted. “I swear on my blood.”
“Blood is easy to spill. It doesn’t hold oaths very well.”
The scout blanched.
Kairos crouched, bringing himself level with the scout. “The forces outside the city. Where are they positioned?”
“East and south. They’re waiting for you to commit to the gates before they close in.”
“And the girl. Where is Vaeris keeping her?”
Bastian’s eyes darted to me, then back. “Which girl?”
“Young. Slight of build. Dark hair.”
He licked his lips. “I-I haven’t seen anyone with that description.”
My heart lurched. Was he lying?
“What about the seal?” Kairos pressed. “What’s he doing to it?”
“I don’t know. He’s forced everyone to evacuate the market.” Bastian swallowed. “Something’s wrong. The runes in the city are flickering.”
Kairos studied him for a long moment.
“Please,” Bastian whispered. “I’ve told you everything.”
“I believe you.”
The scout sagged, and for one breath, I thought Kairos might let him go. Then the mist moved. It crawled up Bastian’s body, giving him time to look down. The tendrils wrapped his throat and squeezed, and he choked as his eyes bulged.
Kairos watched, unmoved, but his fist was clenched.
The crack was quick and clean, and Bastian’s head wrenched sideways at an angle that made my stomach lurch. He collapsed, crumpling into the dirt.
Kairos gestured at the body. “Get rid of him.”
Two warriors dragged the corpse into the trees.
I couldn’t move. I’d witnessed Kairos kill many times. In the Square, he’d wipe his broadsword after every death. I used to think it was ritual, a monster cleaning his tools before the next victim.
Now I watched him flex his hand. Open. Close. Open again.
Suddenly, it hit me. The wiping had never been a ritual. No, it had been the only way he could stop the shaking. His fingers shook, a flicker of pain so raw it echoed in my ribs.
Gods, I wanted to take his face in my hands and ask if he was alright.
I stepped toward him.
His shoulders tensed, and mist swallowed him in a thick cloud. When it cleared, he was gone.
I waited, but he didn’t come back, so I crawled into my bedroll and fell into an uneasy sleep.
When I woke, an eerie dawn seeped over Wraithspine, staining the mountain in red light. The camp was already stirring—warriors packing gear, mairen being saddled, and Kairos stood in front of me, gripping the pommel of his sword. Did he sleep, or had he spent all night like this?
My poor beast.
I got up and drifted to his side. “Morning.”
He grunted.
I wrapped my arm around his. “Did you eat?”
More grunts.
“Kairos. You okay?”
He turned slightly. The knitted brows and the promise of violence coiled in his taut muscles should’ve made me sprint for the woods.
I squeezed his arm tighter. “You know, most people greet the day with actual words. Even something like hello.”
No grunt this time. Just brooding silence.
I poked at his bicep. “If you keep scowling, your face will freeze that way, and that’ll make for awkward lovemaking.”
His head jerked toward me. “Say that word again, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder, march you into those trees, and make every warrior here think I’ve lost my godsdamned mind.”
“I mean, if it’ll snap you out of this mood, go ahead.”
His glare darkened. “I’m in this mood because we’re riding toward a bastard who thinks you belong to him.”
I frowned, about to ask him what he expected me to do about that, but he was already turning away to disappear into the woods. His harsh voice rang in my ears as footsteps scraped behind me.
“Don’t take it personally,” Uther said. “He’s been like that all night.”
I turned. Uther stood with his arms crossed, the early light catching his dusky blue skin. Beside him, Elwen braided her hair, her slender fingers working quickly.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.
Uther shrugged. “Growing pains.”
I stared at him. “He’s over a thousand years old.”
“Some males don’t mature on schedule.”
“Some never do,” Elwen muttered.
Uther grinned. “Whatever’s going on in that thick skull of his, it’s new. New instincts…urges. Territorial issues.”
“Territorial?”
Uther nodded. “The jealousy hits like a punch to the balls at first. He’ll adjust.”
Elwen stepped forward. “We were talking, and we realized none of us know what your sister looks like.”
“Yeah,” Uther said. “Is she tall, short, blonde, bald as an egg?”
I smiled. “She’s not bald.”
“Go on.”
I hesitated. “She’s shorter than me. Dark hair, almost black. She wears it long, usually tied up.” I tugged at my own hair absently. “Her eyes are vivid. Bright gold, like a lioness.”
He smirked. “Pretty.”
“She hates the fae,” I warned him, wagging a finger in his face. “She won’t come willingly. You’ll have to force her.”
“Eh. I can handle one little human.”
I raised a brow. “She’ll bite, scratch, and scream the whole way. She’ll fake an injury to lure you closer, then kick you in the throat.”
He grinned. “Some males pay good money for that kind of attention.”
A snort burst out of me, and Elwen smacked his shoulder.
I could picture Rheya stomping through Ashvar Keep, barking orders at warriors twice her size, stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down. She’d be suspicious of the fae, but eventually, she’d grow to like them. I hoped.
We’d be together soon, and I’d show her a world bigger than anything we’d ever dreamed on those rooftops. I just had to get her back first.
“Move out.” Kairos’s voice rang across the camp.
Warriors scattered to stamp out fires, and bedrolls vanished into saddlebags.
Every step to Skalgard felt like walking toward a grave I’d already dug. I just couldn’t tell yet who I’d be burying. We climbed on foot, the path too steep and narrow for riding, so the mairen followed behind in a line. Kairos led the party, his hand resting on his sword.
We came across a mine and ducked inside, the massive passages reinforced with runes. My fingers brushed the smooth walls as we walked. Carved into a far wall, a rune shimmered in a vertical slice of light that hurt to look at.
Kairos raised a fist, and we halted.
“Portal rune. It’ll take us to the top of Wraithspine. The path ahead is riddled with defensive runes. This is faster, if it holds. From there, we descend straight into the city, but I’m not sure if it can transport everyone.”
A murmur rippled through the warriors. I remembered what he’d told me when we escaped Skalgard, how portals required vast amounts of magic.
“Can’t you use your blood?” I asked.
“My blood can fuel a lot of things. Not this,” Kairos grunted. “But a single drop of dragon blood can move a warband across realms.”
“So, if the rune exhausts its magic, we have nothing to reactivate it.”
Kairos shook his head. “I have something, but we might need it for the seal.”
Silence pressed against the tunnel walls.
“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. Snow crunched 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. It curled 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.