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

by Sarah J. Maas

The sun rose, full and golden, as if it were the solitary note of a song filling the world. Manon opened her mouth. “Terrasen calls for aid!” A young Crochan’s voice rang through the camp. Manon and Asterin whirled, others following suit as the witch sprinted for Glennis’s tent. The crone emerged as the witch skidded to a halt. A scout, no doubt, breathless and hair wind-tossed. “Terrasen calls for aid,” the scout panted, bracing her hands on her knees as she bent over to gulp down breaths. “Morath routed them at the border, then at Perranth, and advances on Orynth as we speak. They will sack the city within a week.” Worse news than Manon had anticipated. Even if she’d needed it, waited for it. The Thirteen closed in, Bronwen a step behind, and Manon didn’t dare breathe as Glennis stared toward the immortal flame burning in the fire pit mere feet away. The Flame of War. Then she turned toward Manon. “What say you, Queen of Witches?” A challenge and a dare. Manon lifted her chin at the two paths before her. One to the east, to Morath. The other northward, to Terrasen and battle. The wind sang, and in it, she heard the answer. “I shall answer Terrasen’s call,” Manon said. Asterin stepped to her side, fearless as she surveyed the assembled camp. “As shall I.” Sorrel flanked Manon’s right. “So shall the Thirteen.” Manon waited, hardly daring to acknowledge the thing that began burning in her chest. Then Bronwen stepped up, her dark hair blowing in the chill wind. “The Vanora h...