27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Balance must be struck. Blood was spilled and so by blood must the contract remain. The gate to the human realm shall be tethered to Sídhetír and its lord. He shall sire seven sons, and the seventh will inherit his title. When the heir reaches his twenty-first year, the contract will be remade anew and the mantle of lordship shall fall to him. His words shall mark the place of the gate within the fae realm. Blood will forge the balance." – From the contract of Sídhetír

C ould I even sign the contract? There was no way to answer that question until I tried to put my blood on the paper. The magic of Sídhetír would either accept or reject me. Despite the consequences, I had to try. Cethin was outside, fighting the light fae, risking his life. The Byrnes and everyone in the estate were in danger. I had to protect them.

Queen Laoise had said she would wage war unless I gave the gate to the Day Court, but I didn't want to. I wanted to give it to the Night Court. Cethin was my future husband, and he needed to be able to journey between his realm and mine without trouble.

We stepped into the manor, and Oren skidded to a stop in front of us. His eyes widened as he took in the dirt covering me and the leaves stuck in my hair. "Aidan." He pulled me into a quick hug. "You're back, and you're dirty."

I lifted an eyebrow.

Lord Byrne glanced at me. "I was curious about your state as well."

"I passed out on the way back to Sídhetír. I was gone too long."

"It was only two days," Oren said.

My mouth fell open. I had been gone for several days.

"Time passes differently in the fae realm," Lord Byrne said. "And the dirt?"

"Cethin covered me in the land, hoping it would help me recover faster."

"Did it?" Lord Byrne asked.

"I have no idea, but he thought it would."

Lord Byrne led me deeper into the manor—hopefully to where the contract was stored. I had no idea where it was kept, but we needed to reach it before the light fae broke through the dome. Only Lord Byrne's will kept them out, and from his trembling steps and sweat-covered brow, I guessed he wouldn't hold out for much longer.

Oren bumped my shoulder, making me look at him, and I finally realized Whit had left—he'd probably remained outside to protect the estate. I tried to smile at Oren, but I feared it was more of a grimace. Doubts circled my mind and made my heart thrash against my ribs. I didn't know if I could save us, and at this moment, I wished to God I wasn't the heir.

Like Oren read my thoughts, he said, "You're the heir." A long sigh sounded, and he smiled peacefully. "Not me. You're the heir."

At least, Oren seemed pleased with this development, even though now was most definitely not the time. He stared at me with wide, hopeful eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip. I practically saw the request he had. Oren wanted to study in town at Wellington University. It had been his dream, and now he could.

"Let's survive first," I said.

"Sorry."

I squeezed his arm. I was not mad, but his freedom was a reminder of my shackles.

Lord Byrne stopped in front of his bookroom and looked back at me as he pushed open the door. "Are you ready, Aidan?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

We stepped inside, and Lord Byrne moved to the left. He removed a book, and the shelf slid open to reveal a room I'd never seen. In the center of the perfectly square, windowless room stood a stone pedestal. On it rested a crinkled parchment glowing in the dim light.

My heart thudded in my chest as my eyes locked onto it. With a will of their own, my feet moved to the contract. The glowing grew brighter and brighter as I shifted closer. When Oren tried to follow me, Lord Byrne grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

I stretched my hand out to the contract. The words were written in deep black ink that had not faded with the years. Near the base were the signatures of the two fae queens and all the lords who came before me.

Night Queen Eilidh's signature was black with silver glimmers like stars. The crest of her moon was right beside her name, appearing like the full moon in the sky. Day Queen Laoise's signature was deep brown with striations like bark, and a sun glowed beside the letters.

Lord Rhett Byrne was right beneath them with a burning-red, seven-pointed star beside his name. All the lords who followed were beneath him, each name signed in blood that still appeared wet to the eye, as if they'd been signed moments ago, not years earlier.

My fingers stretched toward the contract, but before I could touch it, the ground rumbled. I jerked up. Lord Byrne rushed to the window. I moved back to the entry of the secret room, but my feet wouldn't cross the threshold. Sídhetír's hooks were embedded in my skin, drawing me to the contract.

The dome flickered outside of the window, then vanished.

Lord Byrne yelled, "Sign it, Aidan." He grabbed an iron knife off the desk and threw it toward Oren, who snatched it out of the air with ease. "Protect Aidan. I will hold the light fae back for as long as possible." He dashed out of the room without a backward glance.

Oren said, "Sign it, Aidan. Hurry."

I faced the contract, my fingers hovering over the parchment. There was no quill or needle to prick my finger, but I didn't need one. At that moment, I knew when I touched the contract, my blood would come forth, adding my name to the many before me.

What should I do? Queen Laoise pledged war if the gate was not gifted to the Day Court. But I was not human. The contract would last as long as I did. My tie to Cethin would keep me alive for as long as we wanted to live. There would be no children of my blood, let alone seven sons. I was the end.

"Balance, Aidan. For what are you if not balance?" Queen Eilidh's words echoed in my ear as if she stood right behind me, not deep in the fae realm. That was all she wanted me to consider for her help. The word balance. Magic in balance. I was light fae and human. I was mated to the dark fae prince. I was magic and not. I was from the human realm and the fae realm.

I was balance.

I placed my hand on the contract and the world vanished around me.

My eyes opened to an expanse covered in gray fog. A human appeared. They had no true shape, shifting like the clouds in the sky. They approached, and my first instinct was to embrace them.

"Sídhetír," I whispered.

They laughed. "Yes. The fastest anyone has ever recognized me, but you are not anyone, are you? You are Aidan."

"I suppose I am."

Dark words that instilled a chill in my soul began to reverberate around me. I looked around, but no one was speaking. Magic swelled and the specks of lights in the grayish cloud surrounding us turned into a single burning light.

"The forming of the gate," I guessed.

"Yes," Sídhetír replied. "Lord Rhett was driven mad by the deaths of six of his seven sons. To save the last one, he, with the help of a necromancer, used the blood of the dead to force magic to comply and join into a single gate."

The closer I got to the gate, the greater the sense of wrongness grew within me. It was not meant to be like this. "You're not going to allow me to sign the contract."

"Why would you say that?"

My fingers stroked the swirling silver of the gate. "Because it is not in balance, and you are magic. Sídhetír is magic." I finally understood. The sentience the land had received was not new. It was magic, all of magic, human and fae, tethered to one single point. Sídhetír and magic were one and the same.

"How much more you see and understand. Perhaps it is because you stand between the nexus of both realms, but you truly do not belong to either."

Turning from the gate, I faced Sídhetír. "What happens now?"

"What do you want to happen?"

"Balance," I said, thinking of Eilidh. Had she known what would happen? She'd known I was coming, so perhaps she'd guessed this outcome.

The clouds vanished, and I saw the battle waging. Blodwen led the charge. Abnus held her at bay while my brothers and the soldiers fought the light fae. Lord Byrne stood on the step, directing lightning at the invading forces. Lady Hester was at his side, guarding him with a bow as she felled anyone near him. Cethin was in the center of the horde, bleeding, as he fought the light fae.

The images shifted until I saw Oren guarding the door, blood spilling from his cheek as he attacked two winged fae that had breached the manor. All of us, including Oren, had been taught how to fight, so he was holding his own. But two fae against one human? It was only a matter of time until he faltered.

"I have to end this," I said.

"Then what do you want?" Sídhetír asked.

"Is it my decision?"

"If you want it to be."

"What?"

"You can shatter the contract and be free of me. Sídhetír will return to the land it once was and the gate will break into the many openings into the fae realm. Or you can sign the contract and tether it to your life. The choice is yours. It always has been, Aidan, as it was for every seventh son who walked before you."

My eyes darted back to the fight. Lord Byrne was drenched in sweat, his wrinkles and age more pronounced than ever. Lady Hester defended him to the best of her ability. Thomas and Whit stood back to back, fighting. Nevan and Neil felled fae with their pistols. Sevrin and Phineas on horseback fought in tandem with the soldiers. Lord Abnus attacked Blodwen. Oren protected me as I stood lifeless in the secret room.

Finally, my gaze locked on Cethin. Blood dripped from various wounds. He snarled at the light fae, sword in one hand and magic in the other. Our life in many ways would be simpler if I shattered the contract. I would not be the heir. We could live in the fae realm, together. Oren could be free. I could be free.

But what about everyone else? The fae would rip through the human realm like they once did. Humans would fall. Not only them, though. Humans would kill fae. Once again, needless blood would spill.

Perhaps that was balance.

I shook my head. I would never be able to live with myself if I chose that path. Every drop of blood spilled would become a stain on my soul that would never scrub clean. I would never know peace. And yet. If I chose Sídhetír, I would never know peace.

"Fate is an odd thing," I whispered.

Sídhetír smiled. "It is indeed. Your fate was written in blood. It was written in the stars. In the moon. In the sun. Your fate was written long ago, and still I wonder what you will choose. Magic knows no right nor wrong, only balance. And you, Aidan, are balance. What shall you choose?"

"I will choose as all the lords before me have," I said. "I shall give my blood in exchange for everyone else's."

"Once written, it cannot be undone except in death."

"I understand."

With even steps, Sídhetír raised their hand and said, "Then place your name by all your forefathers."

I pressed my palm to Sídhetír's, and agony unlike I'd ever known ripped through every nerve ending, forcing me to my knees.