Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

For Fenrys’s loyalty, for his sacrifice, there was no greater reward she could offer. To keep him from death, there was no other way to save him. Only this. Only the blood oath. And as Fenrys managed to lap the blood from her wound, as he swore a silent vow to their queen, blinking a few more times, Rowan’s chest became unbearably tight.

Aelin mouthed a short, curt word. Fenrys did not respond. She spoke again, that queen’s face unfaltering. Live.

Who do you wish to be? “Someone worthy of my friends,” he said into the quiet night. “A king worthy of his kingdom.” For a heartbeat, snow-white hair and golden eyes flashed into his mind. “Happy,” he whispered, and wrapped a hand around Damaris’s hilt. Let go of that lingering scrap of terror.

Aelin. She was Aelin, and this was not some illusion, but the real world.

Aelin. That’s who she was.

“I didn’t break,” she said quietly. His heart cracked at the words. “I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Two months, three days, and seven hours.”

“To whatever end,” he whispered. Silver lined her eyes. “To whatever end.” A reminder—and a vow, more sacred than the wedding oaths they’d sworn on that ship.

“I’m surprised Sartaq will let his future empress fly against them,” Borte said slyly. The girl had relentlessly teased her these weeks. Nesryn scowled. “Where’s Yeran?” Borte stuck out her tongue, despite the army inching toward them. “Burning in hell, for all I care.”

“The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn’t understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn’t be you with me. And I’d never trade that, trade this. Not for anything.”

“Elena said the Lock requires—” “We’ll face it together,” he swore again. “And if the cost of it truly is you, then we’ll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.” Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. “Terrasen needs a king.” “I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job.” She scanned his face. He meant every word.

“But I would not take something as precious away from you.” “What you don’t realize is that is no longer a possibility.” Again, that hint of a smile and glance over her shoulder toward Elide. “It is.”

“You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free …” Arobynn chuckled. “Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter.”

It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right? A gull’s cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she’d admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right? Two blinks from him, too. No, they were not all right. They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn’t let on.

And even now, I feel like someone has ripped me from myself. Like I’m at the bottom of the sea, and who I am, who I was, is far up at the surface, and I will never get back there again.”

“I can’t feel me—myself anymore. It’s like she snuffed it out. Ripped me from it.

“The throne passes through the maternal line—to a female only. Or it should have,” Rowan said. “You’re the sole female with a direct, undiluted claim to Mab’s bloodline.”

Afraid. Of admitting that she felt any sort of attachment. It was preposterous. And it was, perhaps, true.

“Rhiannon Crochan held the gates for three days and three nights, and she did not kneel before you, even at the end.” A slash of a smile. “I think I shall do the same.” Dorian could have sworn the sacred flame burning to their left flared brighter. Could have sworn Glennis sucked in a breath. That every Crochan watching did the same.

Then the ancient witch knelt in the snow. “What was stolen has been restored; what was lost has come home again. I hail thee, Manon Crochan, Queen of Witches.” Manon stood fast against the tremor that threatened to buckle her legs.

“Queen of Witches,” Crochan and Blackbeak declared as one voice. As one people.

“The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That’s when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen.” The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

She had made him a promise. She had sworn him an oath, all those months ago. I will always find you.

“The girl is a fool. The bravest I’ve ever seen, but a fool nonetheless.”

“Don’t stop,” Elide hissed. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“You didn’t rutting die,” she snapped. “And you’re not dead yet. We’re not dead yet. So get in that saddle.”

“I promised to always find you. I promised you, and you promised me. I came for you because of it; I am here because of it. I am here for you, do you understand? And if we don’t get onto that horse now, we won’t stand a chance against that dam. We will die.”

“An alliance,” she said, throat bobbing, “between you and me.” Her golden eyes lifted to his, the offer gleaming there. To marry. To unite their peoples in the strongest, most unbreakable of terms.

“We fight as one,” Aedion called down the line, forcing himself to ignore the scattered heads. “We die as one.”

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished. A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. “I missed that.” He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall. I missed you. Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.

“She’s fought on the front lines at every battle. Nearly died against our enemies. I didn’t see any of you bothering to do the same.”

Maeve tipped back her head and laughed. “Millennia apart, and you have forgotten even your own sister-in-law.”

“Did the former King of Adarlan ask such questions?” The words broke from him. Erawan again paused. “He was not so faithful a servant as you might believe. And look what it cost him.” “He fought you.” Not quite a question. “He never bowed. Not completely.”

“And no matter what might lie between you, Aedion will always want to forgive you.” There it was, his own secret shame, still warring within him after all his father had done. Even after the trunk full of his mother’s letters.

The king I wish to be is the opposite of what you are. He gave Maeve a smile. And there is only one witch who will be my queen.

Perhaps she did not need Anneith, Lady of Wise Things. Perhaps the goddess had known she herself was not needed. Not anymore.

“Do not give up on life so easily,” Gavin said. “It is the life I had with Elena that allows me to even consider parting from her now. A good life—as good as any that could be hoped for.” He inclined his head. “I wish the same for you.”

And she said to Abraxos, touching his spine, “I love you.” It was the only thing that mattered in the end. The only thing that mattered now. Abraxos thrashed. As if he’d try to stop her.

“Live, Manon.” Manon blinked. Asterin smiled wider, kissed Manon’s brow, and whispered again, “Live.” Manon didn’t see the blow coming.

Had she looked, she would have seen the small white flowers they bore. Would have wondered how and where they had gotten them in the dead heart of winter. Had she looked, she would have seen the people gathered behind them, so many they streamed all the way to the city gates. Would have seen the humans standing side by side with the Crochans and Ironteeth. All come to honor the Thirteen. But Manon did not look.

“Be the bridge, be the light. When iron melts, when flowers spring from fields of blood—let the land be witness, and return home.”

Rowan kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered onto her mouth. “Come back to me.”

What if we go on, only to more pain and despair? Then it is not the end. That power flowed and flowed into Aelin. Her lips curved upward. It was not the end. And she was not finished. But they were. “To a better world,” Mala said, and walked through the doorway into her own. A better world. A world with no gods. No masters of fate. A world of freedom.

The debt has already been paid enough.

She would not give it up. Her innermost self. She would not surrender. They would not take this lingering kernel of her. She would not yield it.

They would not destroy her. They would not be allowed to take this. Come back to me.

Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom.… Her kingdom. Her home. She would see it again. It was not over. Behind her, the archway slowly sealed.