A Reaper at the Gates (An Ember in the Ashes, #3)

by Sabaa Tahir

“The blood of the father and the blood of the son are harbingers of darkness,” Musa reads. “The King shall light the Butcher’s path, and when the Butcher bows to the deepest love of all, night approaches. Only the Ghost may stand against the onslaught. Should the Lioness’s heir claim the Butcher’s pride, it will evanesce, and the blood of seven generations shall pass from the earth before the King may seek vengeance again. Curse

“The Nightbringer stayed in Navium because his target was there the whole time. He never had to leave. She has it—the Blood Shrike has the last piece of the Star.”

The Ghost will fall, her flesh will wither.

I bet this is elias' task

But then again, just because it’s a prophecy doesn’t mean it’s written in stone.

What I feel for Elias is different, a flame I hold close to my heart when I feel my strength flagging. Sometimes, deep in the night as I travel, I picture a future with him. But I dare not look at it too closely. How can I, when it can never be?

All the world can burn, but I will not simply leave her to suffer.”

“Forgive her, if you can,” I say. “Remember that fate is never what we think it will be. Your mother—my mother—we can never understand their torments. Their hurts. We may suffer the consequences of their mistakes and their sins, but we should not carry them on our hearts. We don’t deserve that.”

“How do you plan to take the city?” I say. “You have no siege machines.” “Silence, heathen. I speak to your master.”

Bro? Shes probably in higher power than you

“Ghosts,” Harper says. “They’re summoning ghosts.”

Shit

They’re possessed by the ghosts raised by their warlocks.

Omg

“The world will burn,” I say. “But it will be reborn from the ashes.”

But then I remember what he said: If I seem different, remember that I love you. No matter what happens to me.

Crying

“Do I—” The words come out a whisper, and I brusquely clear my throat. “How bad is it?” “They are beautiful.” His green eyes are thoughtful. “Your face couldn’t be anything but beautiful, Blood Shrike. With or without the mask.”

Aweee

Curse this world for what it does to the mothers, for what it does to the daughters. Curse it for making us strong through loss and pain, our hearts torn from our chests again and again. Curse it for forcing us to endure.