Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass #7)

“I have not,” Erawan said, his golden eyes blazing.

“Good,” Aelin said. “I was her prisoner, you know. For months. You’d be surprised how much I picked up. About her husband—your brother. About the library in his castle, and how Maeve learned so many interesting things about world-walking. Will you share that knowledge, Maeve, or is that not part of your bargain?”

Doubt. That was doubt beginning to darken Erawan’s eyes.

Aelin pressed, “She wants you out, you know. Gone. What did she even tell you when your Wyrdkey went missing? Let me guess: the King of Adarlan snuck into Morath, killed the girl you’d enslaved to be your living gate, destroyed your castle, and Maeve arrived just in time to try to stop him—but failed? Did you know that she worked with him for days and days? Trying to get the key from you?”

“That is a lie,” Maeve snapped.

“Is it? Shall I repeat some of the things you said in your most private meetings with Lord Erawan here? The things the King of Adarlan told me?”

Erawan’s smile grew. “You always had a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps you are lying, as my sister claims.”

“Perhaps I am, perhaps I am not. Though I think the truth of your new ally’s backstabbing is far more interesting than any lie I might invent.”

“Shall we tell you another truth, then?” Maeve crooned. “Do you wish to know who killed your parents? Who killed Lady Marion?”

Aelin stilled.

Maeve waved a hand to Erawan. “It wasn’t him. It wasn’t even the King of Adarlan. No, he sent a low-ranking Valg prince to do it. He couldn’t even be bothered to go himself. Didn’t think anyone important was really necessary to do the deed.”

Aelin stared at the queen. At the Valg king.

And then arched a brow. “Is that some attempt to unnerve me? You’re thousands of years old, and that is all you can think of to say?” She laughed again, and pointed to Erawan with Goldryn. She could have sworn he flinched away from the flaming blade. “I feel sorry for you, you know. That you’ve now shackled yourself to that immortal bore.” She sucked on a tooth. “And when Maeve sells you out, I suppose I’ll feel a little bit sorry for you then, too.”

“See how she talks?” Maeve hissed. “That has always been her gift: to distract and babble while—”

“Yes, yes. But, as I said: you have the field. There’s nothing left that can really stop you.”

“Except for you,” Erawan said.

Aelin pressed her shield against her chest. “I’m flattered you think so.” She flicked up her brows. “Though I think the two hundred healers we’ve got in the city right now might be a little offended that you forgot them. Especially when I’ve watched them so diligently expel your Valg grunts from the hosts they infected.”

Erawan stilled. Just a fraction.

“Or is that another lie?” Aelin mused. “A risky thing for you to do, then—to enter this city. My city, I suppose. To see who’s waiting for you. I heard you went to an awful lot of trouble to try to kill one of my friends this summer. Silba’s Heir. If I were you, I might have been more thorough in trying to end her. She’s here, you know. Came all this way to see you and repay the favor.” Aelin let her flame grow brighter as Erawan again hesitated. “Maeve knew. She knows that the healers are here, waiting for you. And will let them at you. Ask her where her owl is—the healer she keeps chained to her. To protect her from you.”

“Don’t listen to her nonsense,” Maeve spat.

“She even made a bargain: to spare their lives in exchange for ridding her of you.” Aelin waved Goldryn toward Orynth. “You’re walking into a trap the moment you enter the city. You, and all your little Valg friends. And only Maeve will be left standing in the end, Lady of All.”

Maeve’s shadows rose in a wave. “I have had enough of this, Aelin Galathynius.”

Aelin knew Maeve would go on ahead, without Erawan. Work without him, if need be.

The dark king looked toward Maeve and seemed to realize it, too.

Maeve’s black hair flowed around her. “Where is the King of Adarlan? We would have words with him.” Simmering, vicious rage pulsed from the queen.

Aelin shrugged. “Off fighting somewhere. Likely not bothering to think about you.” She inclined her head. “A valiant effort, Maeve, to try to divert the conversation.” She turned to Erawan. “The healers are waiting for you in there. You’ll see I’m telling the truth. Though I suppose it will be too late by then.”

Doubt. That was indeed doubt in Erawan’s eyes. Just a crack. An open doorway.

And it would now be upon Yrene—Yrene and the others—to seize it.

She had not wanted to ask, to plan this. Had not wanted to drag anyone else in.

But she trusted them. Yrene, her friends. She trusted them to see this through. When she was gone. She trusted them.

Maeve stepped forward. “I hope you have enjoyed yourself these past few moments.” She bared her too-white teeth, all traces of that cool grace vanished. Even Erawan seemed to blink in surprise at it—and again hesitate. As if wondering whether Aelin’s words had struck true. “I hope you are entertained by your prattling idiocy.”

“Eternally so,” Aelin said with a mocking bow. “I suppose I’ll be more entertained when I wipe you from the face of the earth.” She sighed skyward. “Gods above, what a sight that will be.”

Maeve extended a hand before her, darkness swirling in her cupped palm. “There are no gods left to watch, I’m afraid. And there are no gods left to help you now, Aelin Galathynius.”

Aelin smiled, and Goldryn burned brighter. “I am a god.”

She unleashed herself upon them.



Rowan pried free the shard of iron from his shoulder as Maeve and Erawan arrived.

As Aelin went to meet them before the walls of Orynth.

His magic guttered within his veins, but he clapped a hand to his bleeding arm as he ran for the southern gate. Willed the healing.

Flesh stung as it knitted together—too slowly. Too damn slowly.

But he couldn’t fly with a shredded wing, as he’d surely have if he shifted now. Block after block, through the city that would have been his home, he ran for the southern gate.

He had to get to her.

A warning shout from the battlements had him throwing up a shield on instinct. Just as a siege ladder collided with the wall above him.

Morath’s footsoldiers spilled over it, into the awaiting blades of both khagan soldier and Bane warrior. Too many.

Ironteeth clashed with Crochans above them—Ironteeth bearing several Morath footsoldiers apiece. They deposited them on the battlements, on the streets.

People screamed. Further into the city, people were screaming. Fleeing.

Only a few blocks to the southern gate—to Aelin.

And yet … those screams of terror and pain continued. Families. Children.

Home. This was to be his home. Already was, if Aelin were with him. He would defend it.

Rowan drew his sword and hatchet.

Fire burst beyond the walls, bathing the city in gold. She couldn’t have more than an ember. Against Erawan and Maeve, she should already be dead. Yet her flame still raged. The mating bond held strong.

White flashed beside him, and then there was Fenrys, stained with blood and snarling at the soldiers pouring over the walls. One neared them, and a swipe of a mighty paw was all it took for the grunt to be in pieces.

A swipe—and then a burst of black wind. Lorcan.

They halted for all of a heartbeat. Both males looked to him in question. They knew full well where Aelin was. What the plan had been.

Another blast of flame from beyond the walls.

But the screams of the innocent in the city … She would never forgive him for it. If he walked away.

So Rowan angled his weapons. Turned toward the screaming. “We swore an oath to our queen and this court,” he snarled, sizing up the soldiers pouring over the walls. “We will not break it.”