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“I plan to destroy the keys. You give me your Wyrdkey,” Lorcan said, opening the fist he’d held against Aelin’s abdomen, “and I’ll give you the ring.” Sure enough, in his hand shone a familiar gold ring. “You shouldn’t be alive,” Rowan said. “If you had stolen the ring and fled, she would have killed you already.” It was a trap. A pretty, clever trap. “I move quickly.” Lorcan had been hauling ass out of Wendlyn. It didn’t prove anything, though. “The others—” “None of them know. You think I trust them not to say anything?” “The blood oath makes betrayal impossible.” “I’m doing this for her
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Ugh I can’t tell if he is telling the truth or not
And that it would be a shame if he never knew … if she never told him …
NEVER TOLD HIM WHAT?!
“I failed you tonight.” His words were a whisper in the darkness.
Aww poor baby
His hand was warm as it clamped on her shoulder. She let him turn her onto her back, and found him half on top of her as he peered into her face.
That’s kind of an odd movement…
“I missed you,” he said quietly, his gaze darting between her mouth and eyes. “When I was in Wendlyn. I lied when I said I didn’t. From the moment you left, I missed you so much I went out of my mind. I was glad for the excuse to track Lorcan here, just to see you again. And tonight, when he had that knife at your throat …” The warmth of his callused finger bloomed through her as he traced a path over the cut on her neck.
Oooooohhhhh PLEASE tell me a kiss is coming!!!!
Wyverns. Witches. Army. Erawan. She loosed a heavy breath. “Sleep,” she mumbled. “We should sleep.”
UGH STUPID WAR RUINING THEIR LOVE 😤
In fact, it was as if her grandmother hadn’t received any of Manon’s messages.
Ooh I bet she hasn’t
It always ached—more than the collar, more than the cold, more than the duke’s hands on her, more than anything that had been done to her. Only the shadowfire was a comfort.
Ooh Kaltain’s pov
“Someone’s broken into the warehouse.”
Probably Lorcan
She could still feel his canines at her throat, rasping against her skin, pressing down lightly—
Not the time AELIN
“The king’s men,” Evangeline whispered. “They came with a letter from Arobynn. Said it was in Arobynn’s will that they be told about Lysandra’s b-b-bloodline.”
Oh no, Lysandra 😢
Rowan knelt down beside them and slid his arms around the girl, scooping her up, his hand so big that it nearly enveloped the entire back of her head. Evangeline buried her face in his tattooed chest, and Rowan murmured wordless sounds of comfort.
Oh my gosh wait- that is so cute
There was nothing soft or tender on his face. Only a predator’s glittering gaze. “When we get back,” he said, “remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head.”
Oop
The smallest of them was sprawled on his belly, face buried in a mound of wildflowers. Iron spikes gleamed on his tail in lieu of bone, scars covered his body like a cat’s stripes, and his wings … she knew the material grafted there. Spidersilk.
That would be Abraxos 😊
Or at Dorian, riding at his father’s side, that black collar around his neck and nothing human in his face.
Does no one notice the collar?!
The king was late, and his party made enough gods-damned noise as they traipsed through the woods that Manon heard them a good five minutes before the king’s massive black warhorse appeared around the bend in the path.
Lol
They’d brought a prison wagon with them, containing a prisoner to be transferred to Morath. Female, from the smell of her—and strange. She’d never come across that scent before: not Valg, not Fae, not entirely human. Interesting.
Lysandra 😬
“I was told to keep my mouth shut,” Manon said. Her grandmother’s eyes flashed. “Unless you’d prefer I get on my knees and grovel.”
Ugh MANON
faced her grandmother, whose iron-tipped fingers had curved as if she were imagining them around Manon’s throat.
She probably was
The humanity was gone again. She’d imagined it.
NO YOU DIDN’T!!!!
On near-silent feet, Lysandra hurtled past her, right into the speckled brown-and-green cloak Rowan was holding out. Two heartbeats later she was down the steps and into the brush. Another beat, and the dead guards were inside the wagon with the door locked. Aelin and Rowan slipped back into the forest amid the roars of the wyverns.
YES
The Matron waited across the clearing, her voluminous black robes billowing despite her stillness.
All I have to say to that is: Nick Fury
She found Lysandra standing with a hand braced against a tree, wide-eyed, breathing hard. Chaol was gone.
Oh my gosh, Chaol is an idiot 🙄
Chaol couldn’t let the king take Dorian back to the castle. He might never get this chance again. He had to do it now. Had to kill him.
Oh my gosh Chaol you are going to DIE
Chaol broke through the trees into a field, the dagger a burning weight in his hand. It was not the king’s party that stood there in the tall grass and sunlight. Thirteen witches and their wyverns turned to him. And smiled.
Good job IDIOT
Aelin ran through the trees as Rowan tracked Chaol by scent alone.
Just leave him
The path veered away, and Chaol had taken the wrong fork.
Of course he did, he’s an idiot
Manon said, and lunged. Only to slam face-first into an invisible wall. And then freeze entirely. “Run,” Aelin breathed, snatching up Goldryn and bolting for the trees. The Wing Leader was frozen in place, her sentinels wide-eyed as they rushed to her. Chaol’s human blood wouldn’t hold the spell for long.
Oh my gosh, Aelin you are a GENIUS
A wall of muscle slammed into her, shielding her and shoving her to the stones. And the witch’s arrow went clean through Rowan’s shoulder.
God dang it Rowan, why do you have to be so protective?
The queen looked at the nails, the teeth, and grinned. Honestly—it was a shame that Manon had to kill her.
You don’t!!!
Pillar to pillar, she retreated, rolling and ducking and dodging. Manon swiped and slashed, slamming into every column, a force of nature in her own right.
Ooh, Aelin has a plan
“So you’re going to ask Ress and Brullo to just leave a back door open so you can sneak in?” “Don’t be so simpleminded. I’m going to walk in through the front door.”
Of course you are Aelin
“Because that golden-haired witch, Asterin …,” Aelin said. “She screamed Manon’s name the way I screamed yours.”
🥺😩😭
Aelin reached into her pocket and pushed a folded piece of paper across the table. “It’s for you. And her.” “We don’t need—” Lysandra’s eyes fell upon the wax seal. A snake in midnight ink: Clarisse’s sigil. “What is this?” “Open it.” Glancing between her and the paper, Lysandra cracked the seal and read the text. “I, Clarisse DuVency, hereby declare that any debts owed to me by—” The paper began shaking. “Any debts owed to me by Lysandra and Evangeline are now paid in full. At their earliest convenience, they may receive the Mark of their freedom.”
😭😭😭
Mile after mile they flew. Manon couldn’t tell why that thread kept yanking, why it felt so urgent, but she pushed them hard, all the way to Rifthold.
Aaahhh
“Swear it.” Lorcan smiled, knowing he’d won. “Swear that this ring grants immunity to the Valg, and I’ll give it to you,” Rowan said, and he pulled the Amulet of Orynth from his pocket.
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOO
“How mad is Lorcan going to be,” Aelin murmured as they lay down face-to-face, “when he eventually opens up that amulet, finds the Valg commander’s ring inside, and realizes we gave him a fake?”
Uggggghhhhh SJM keeps tricking me
Aelin leaned against the closet doorway, clad in a nightgown of gold. Metallic gold—as he’d requested. It could have been painted on her for how closely it hugged every curve and dip, for all that it concealed.
Oooooohhhh 🥵
She studied their joined hands, and the gold ring encircling her thumb. He squeezed her fingers gently. When she lifted her head, her eyes were blazing bright. “Tell me that we’ll get through tomorrow. Tell me that we’ll survive the war. Tell me—” She swallowed hard. “Tell me that even if I lead us all to ruin, we’ll burn in hell together.” “We’re not going to hell, Aelin,” he said. “But wherever we go, we’ll go together.”
🥰
“You make me want to live, Rowan. Not survive; not exist. Live.”
🥰😭
The message on the wall had only been one sentence. Payment for a life debt. One sentence just for Aelin Galathynius; one sentence that changed everything: WITCH KILLER— THE HUMAN IS STILL INSIDE HIM
YES MANON TOLD HER
Then she smiled with every last shred of courage, of desperation, of hope for the glimmer of that glorious future. “Let’s go rattle the stars.”
“I do wonder,” the king mused, leaning back on his throne, “who has been conspiring more: the captain, or you, Champion. Or should I call you Aelin?”
Ah crap
Something dripped onto his shoulder. An ear bleed. He wiped it away with his free hand. But it was not blood on his cloak. Rowan and Aedion went rigid as a low growling filled the passage. Something on the ceiling moved, then. Seven somethings. Aedion dropped the spool and drew his sword. A piece of fabric—gray, small, worn—dropped from the maw of the creature clinging to the stone ceiling. His cloak—the missing corner of his cloak. Lorcan had lied. He hadn’t killed the remaining Wyrdhounds. He’d just given them Rowan’s scent.
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
Rowan went down as stone jaws clamped onto his leg. Bone snapped, and black crushed in— He roared against the darkness that meant death.
😬
When the dust and debris cleared, when Rowan’s body was singing with pain and joy and power, the way into the castle was blocked. And behind them, stretching into the gloom of the sewers, were a hundred Valg commanders and foot soldiers, armed and smiling.
WHAT?!
The commander’s hand came down. And was ripped clean off by a ghost leopard.
YES GO LYSANDRA
The bolt neared her heart. And was knocked from the air by an arrow. Lysandra landed on the guard’s face and shredded it with her claws. There was only one sharpshooter with that sort of aim. Lysandra loosed a roar, and became a storm of death upon the guards nearest her while arrows rained on the rest.
YES YES YES
But Dorian’s eyes were on his father, and they were burning like stars. “What did you say. About Chaol.” The king snapped. “Silence.” “Did you kill him.” Not a question. Aelin’s lips began trembling, and she tunneled down, down, down inside herself. “And if I did?” the king said, brows high. “Did you kill Chaol?” The light at Dorian’s hand burned and burned— But the collar remained around his neck. “You,” the king snapped—and Aelin realized he meant her just as a spear of darkness shot for her so fast, too fast— The darkness shattered against a wall of ice.
Aaaaaahhhhh yes Dorian is back!!!!!
Dorian. His name was Dorian. Dorian Havilliard, and he was the Crown Prince of Adarlan. And Celaena Sardothien—Aelin Galathynius, his friend … she had come back for him.
AAAAAAAHHHHHH
