Qown shifted. “There are a few inconsistencies. I would interpret ‘as night takes the land’ to mean sunset, but this fight didn’t happen at sunset. It happened at dawn. Atrin means silver sword in Guarem. That’s why everyone thought the prophecy referred to Atrine.”

“Keep going. Work it out.”

Then Qown blinked as a new thought occurred to him. “But Morios wasn’t imprisoned, was he? Just sleeping. And not sleeping under Atrine, because there’s no place under the city big enough to fit a dragon his size. Those caves we saw under Khored’s temple are too small.” Qown concentrated as he worked through the problem, forgetting where they were. “So that phrase doesn’t even refer to Atrine. And if it’s not Atrine, then maybe silver sword means something else. Maybe it’s a description. If we rearranged verses, then ‘beneath the silver sword, the sleeping beast’s prison shatters’ becomes ‘the sleeping beast’s prison shatters—beneath the silver sword.’” His gaze settled on Urthaenriel, which had fallen into the mud, but it was still bright, vibrant, silver. It had indeed shattered something too. Crystal shards lay all over the throne. The light that had streamed off into the darkness was now absent.

“Then … that…” Qown started breathing fast. “Oh sun. That quatrain was about Vol Karoth, wasn’t it? The ‘sleeping beast’ is Vol Karoth?”

“Technically, every prophecy is about Vol Karoth. But yes.”

Qown felt his heartbeat drum in panic. “What have we done?”

“What did I just say about difficult decisions? And what we have done is bought humanity time,” Relos Var explained. “I know it doesn’t seem as if waking up Vol Karoth is helpful, but think about our circumstances. The last time the demons roamed free, before Grizzst the Mad gaeshed them all just to prove he could, god-kings ruled this whole continent from coast to coast. Say what you want about those little tyrants, but they kept their pocket kingdoms safe from demons. So what did the Eight Immortals do—through proxy Quuros emperors—once the demons had all been tamed? They slew every god-king they could. They only pardoned those who surrendered their old fiefdoms. The god-kings protect nothing in Quur now, while the Eight Immortals cannot be everywhere at once. We’re overrun.

“The Eight Immortals may be far more powerful than the god-kings, but they aren’t omnipotent. Each time some poor fool dies in a Hellmarch, the demons become stronger and more numerous. But what scares demons more than gods or god-kings? Vol Karoth, whose unending hunger is sated just as well by demons as by any other kind of soul. The demons will hide now. They’ll retreat. Hopefully for long enough so we may do what we must.”

“How can I help?” Qown asked, then paused. “Wait, can I help?”