Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #0.1–0.5, 1–7)

by Sarah J. Maas

Their horses charged bold and dauntless beneath them, gaining ground, but he could not see Aelin. Only the Lord of the North, bounding across the battlefield, aiming for Oakwald. As if he had been set free. Fenrys, face splattered with black blood, shouted, “Where is she?” Rowan scanned the field, heart thundering. But the bond in his chest glowed strong, fire-bright. Lorcan only pointed ahead. To the city walls by the southern gate. To the ghost leopard tearing through the droves of Morath soldiers, spurts of flame accompanying her as a golden-armored warrior raced at her side. To the three siege towers wreaking havoc on the walls. With the towers’ open sides, Rowan could see everything as it unfolded. Could see Aelin and Lysandra charge up the ramp within, slicing and shredding soldiers between them, level after level after level. Where one missed a soldier, the other felled him. Where one struck, the other guarded. All the way up, to the small catapult near its top. Soldiers screamed, some leaping from the tower as Lysandra shredded into them. While Aelin threw herself at the rungs lining the catapult’s wheeled base, and began pushing. Turning it. Away from Orynth, from the castle. Precisely as Aelin had told him Sam Cortland had done in Skull’s Bay, the catapult’s mechanisms allowed her to rotate its base. Rowan wondered if the young assassin was smiling now—smiling to see her heaving the catapult into position. All the way to the siege tower at its left. On the second...