Heir of Fire (73 page)

“One, I'm going back as Celaena, not Aelin—”

“Celaena, who did not accomplish the king's mission, and who they are now going to hunt down.”

“
Th
e King and Queen of Eyllwe should have gotten their warning by now.” She'd sent it the
fi
rst time they'd gone into town while investigating the murder of those poor people.
Th
ough letters ­were nearly impossible to send into the empire, Wendlyn had certain ways of getting around that. And as for Chaol . . . well, that was another reason why she was ­here, on this dock, about to get onto this ship. She had awoken this morning and slipped the amethyst ring o
ff
her
fi
nger. It had felt like a blessed release, a
fi
nal shadow li
ft
ed from her heart. But there ­were still words le
ft
unsaid between them, and she needed to make sure he was safe—­and would remain that way.

“So you're going to get the key from your old master,
fi
nd the captain, and then what?”

Complete submission to her indeed. “
Th
en I go north.”

“And I'm supposed to sit on my ass for the next gods know how many months?”

She rolled her eyes. “You're not exactly inconspicuous, Rowan. If your tattoos don't attract attention, then the hair, the ears, the
teeth
. . .”

“I have another form, you know.”

“And,
just like I said
, magic ­doesn't work there anymore. You'd be trapped in that form.
Th
ough I do hear that Ri
ft
hold rats are particularly delicious, if you want to eat them for months.”

He glared at her, then scanned the ship—­even though she knew he'd snuck out of their room at the inn last night to inspect it already. “We're stronger together than apart.”

“If I'd known you would be such a pain in the ass, I never would have let you swear that oath.”

“Aelin.” At least he ­wasn't calling her “Majesty” or “My Lady.” “Either as yourself or as Celaena, they will try to
fi
nd you and kill you.
Th
ey are probably already tracking you down. We could go to Varese right now and approach your mother's mortal kin, the Ashryvers.
Th
ey might have a plan.”

“My chance at success in getting the Wyrdkey out of Ri
ft
hold lies in stealth as Celaena.”

“Please,” he said.

But she merely li
ft
ed her chin. “I am going, Rowan. I will gather the rest of my court—
our
court—­and then we will raise the greatest army the world has ever witnessed. I will call in every favor, every debt owed to Celaena Sardothien, to my parents, to my bloodline. And then . . .” She looked toward the sea, toward home. “And then I am going to rattle the stars.” She put her arms around him—­a promise. “Soon. I will send for you soon, when the time is right. Until then, try to make yourself useful.” He shook his head, but gripped her in a bone-­crushing embrace.

He pulled back far enough to look at her. “Perhaps I'll go help repair Mistward.”

She nodded. “You never told me,” she said, “what you ­were praying to Mala for that morning before we entered Doranelle.”

For a moment, it looked like he ­wouldn't tell her. But then he quietly said, “I prayed for two things. I asked her to ensure you survived the encounter with Maeve—­to guide you and give you the strength you needed.”

Th
at strange, comforting warmth, that presence that had reassured her . . . the setting sun kissed her cheeks as if in con
fi
rmation, and a shiver went down her spine. “And the second?”

“It was a sel
fi
sh wish, and a fool's hope.” She read the rest of it in his eyes.
But it came true.

“Dangerous, for a prince of ice and wind to pray to the Fire-­Bringer,” she managed to say.

Rowan shrugged, a secret smile on his face as he wiped away the tear that escaped down her cheek. “For some reason, Mala likes me, and agreed that you and I make a formidable pair.”

But she didn't want to know—­didn't want to think about the Sun Goddess and her agenda as she
fl
ung herself on Rowan, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of him.
Th
e
fi
rst member of her court—­the court that
would
change the world.
Th
e court that would rebuild it. Together.

She boarded the boat as night fell, herded into the galley with the other passengers to keep them from learning the route through the reef. With little fuss they set sail, and when they ­were at last allowed out of the galley, she emerged onto the deck to
fi
nd dark, open ocean around them. A white-tailed hawk still
fl
ew overhead, and it swooped low to brush its star-­silvered wing against her cheek in farewell before it turned back with a sharp cry.

In the moonless light, she traced the scar on her palm, the oath to Nehemia.

She would retrieve the
fi
rst Wyrdkey from Arobynn and track down the others, and then
fi
nd a way to put the Wyrdkeys back in their Gate. She would free magic and destroy the king and save her people. No matter the odds, no matter how long it took, no matter how far she had to go.

She li
ft
ed her face to the stars. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, heir of two mighty bloodlines, protector of a once-­glorious people, and Queen of Terrasen.

She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—­and she would not be afraid.

Ac­know­ledg­ments

Th
is book would not exist without my friends. Especially my best friend, Jaeger copi­lot, and
anam cara
, Susan Dennard.

It's to her that I owe the biggest debt, for the entire days spent brainstorming and
fi
guring out the right way to tell the story, for holding my hand as I walked down the dark paths of this book, for being the voice in my head telling me to keep going, keep going, keep going.
Th
ere was no one ­else that this book could have been dedicated to; no one ­else who challenges and upli
ft
s and inspires me so greatly. So, thank you, Soozyface, for being the kind of friend I was so sure didn't exist in this world. Love you, dude.

I also owe a huge debt to my brilliant and im­mensely talented friend Alex Bracken, for the genius feedback, for the bajillion-­page e-mails, and for being so, so incredibly supportive. I cannot tell you how grateful I am that our paths crossed all those years ago—­what an insane journey it's been.

And none of this would ever have happened without my lovely and badass agent, Tamar Rydzinski, who has been with me from the very beginning, and whose tireless work has made this series reality. I'm so honored to call you my agent, but even more honored to call you my friend.

To the incredible worldwide team at Bloomsbury—­how can I ever fully convey what a joy it is to work with you all?
Th
ank you, thank you, thank you for all that you do for me and
Th
rone of Glass. To my editor, Margaret Miller—­this book would be a hot mess without you. To Cat Onder, Cindy Loh, and Rebecca McNally—­you guys are the absolute best. To Erica Barmash, Hali Baumstein, Emma Bradshaw, Kathleen Farrar, Cristina Gilbert, Courtney Gri
ffi
n, Alice Grigg, Natalie Hamilton, Bridget Hartzler, Charli Haynes, Emma Hopkin, Linette Kim, Lizzy Mason, Jenna Pocius, Emily Ritter, Amanda Shipp, Grace Whooley, and Brett Wright: thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your hard work, enthusiasm, and dedication.

To the team at Audible and to the
Th
rone of Glass audiobook narrator, Elizabeth Evans, thank you for making Celaena's world come to life in a ­whole new way, and for giving her a voice. And thank you to Janet Cadsawan, whose beautiful
Th
rone of Glass jewelry line continues to blow my mind.

To the lovely Erin “Ders” Bowman, for the cheerleading and the unfailing encouragement, for the video chats, and the epic (non-­writing) retreats. Hero Squad Forever.

To Mandy Hubbard, Dan Krokos, Biljana Likic, Kat Zhang, and the Publishing Crawl gang—­thanks so much for being some of the bright lights.

To my parents—­my number-­one fans—­for the many adventures that so o
ft
en serve as inspiration for these books. To my family, for the love and support, and for pushing this series on your friends and book clubs. Love you all. To my wonderful Grandma Connie—­I miss you and wish you ­were ­here to read this.

To the readers who have picked up and championed this series—­words cannot express my gratitude. I am truly blessed to have you all as fans. You make the hard work worth it.

To my dog, Annie: you ­can't read (though it ­wouldn't surprise me if you secretly could), but I want it written ­here—­for eternity—­that you're the best canine companion anyone could hope for.
Th
anks for the cuddles, for sitting in my lap while I'm trying to write, and for giving me someone to talk to all day. Sorry I play the music so loudly when you're trying to snooze. Love you, love you, love you forever and ever and ever.

And to my husband, Josh: You get last billing ­here, but that's because you're
fi
rst in my heart. I'll never stop being grateful that I get to share this wild journey with you.

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Ac­know­ledg­ments

Ac­know­ledg­ments