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Aelin slammed her shield against an
oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through
another before she plunged the blade into the
soldier she’d deflected.
She did it again, and again.
All while heading toward that siege tower.
Unhindered. Unleashed.
A call went down the line. The queen has
come.
Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward
them.
Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left
them dying on the stones.
She planted her line before the gaping maw
of that siege tower, right in the path of those
teeming hordes. Every moment of the training
she’d done on the ship here, on the road, every
new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself
for this.
The queen has come.