From a distance, the tattoo looked like an elbow-length lace glove, but when I held it close to my face, I could detect the intricate depictions of flowers and curves that flowed throughout to make up a larger pattern. Permanent. Forever.
If the Vaults were the heart of Rifthold’s underworld, then the glass castle was the soul of Adarlan’s empire.
You’re still safe,” he said again. The Suriel’s command echoed through my mind. Stay with the High Lord, human. You will be safe.
She could not remember what it was like to be free. A pit yawned open beneath her feet, so deep that she had to move lest it swallow her whole. She.
The Forest – my forest.
She already had an edge on them. She just needed it to be a bit sharper. She didn’t pause her exercising as she smiled at him, panting through her clenched teeth. To her surprise, he smiled back.
The Master gave her a crooked smile. She would have echoed the expression – but an instant later he snapped his fingers, triggering four men to charge at her.
What a miserable state for a girl of former beauty!
Aelin had felt it before: a thread in the world, a current running between her and someone else. She’d felt it one night, years ago, and had given a young healer the money to get the hell out of this continent. She’d felt the tug – and had decided to tug back.
We’ll face it together. To whatever end.
That one – I bet she’s the Wing Leader,” Rowan said, pointing now to the women gathered at the edge of the meadow. Not women. Witches. They were all young and beautiful, with hair and skin of every shade and color. But even from the distance, she picked out the one Rowan had pointed to. Her hair was like living moonlight, her eyes like burnished gold. She was the most beautiful person Aelin had ever seen. And the most horrifying.
The smell of blood filled the air, and every single one of the Iron-teeth witches inhaled deeply. The man in front of them took a too-casual step away.
She hadn’t felt anything in months. Had days when she didn’t really know where she was or what she’d done. They passed swiftly and yet dripped by. So did the months. She’d blinked, and winter had fallen. Blinked, and her body had turned too thin. As hollow as she felt.
Who would you have become without me? Some pampered, quaking princess. Your beloved cousin would have locked you up in a tower and thrown away the key. I gave you your freedom – I gave you the ability to bring down men like Aedion Ashryver with a few blows. And all I get for it is contempt.
We’ll pretend my last words to you were something worthy of a song.
Luna’s Horn remains at large.” Ruhn twisted back to his father. “So? What does one have to do with the other?” “I want you to find it.” Ruhn glanced to the notebooks, the prism. “It went missing two years ago.” “And I now have an interest in locating it. The Horn belonged to the Fae first. Public interest in retrieving it has waned; now is the right time to attain it.
A reminder that she might be the heir of fire... but Erawan was King of the Darkness.
I would have fought for the rest of my life to find a way to return to you again.
The sorceress watching her truth unfold on the screens still did not speak. To acknowledge what had been suggested. Did it have something to do with why she’d left the witches? Or why she’d joined the Under-King? Micah leaned back in his seat, wings rustling. “I’ve long suspected that the remains of Parthos were housed here – a record of two thousand years of human knowledge before the Asteri arrived.
A life of open skies and roads, of wandering where the wind takes you, answering to no one and nothing? A life of freedom...