badly during the rest of this war.
Lorcan would agree—had taught Rowan to
make those sorts of hard calls.
Still Aelin remained silent, as if she’d
descended deep within herself, and gazed at
the battlefield.
At the small rider and the mighty horse
racing across it.
Farasha was a tempest beneath her, but the
mare did not seek to unseat Elide as they
thundered across the body-strewn plain.
“Lorcan!”
Her shout was swallowed by the wind, by
the screams of fleeing soldiers and people, by
the shriek of the ruks above. “Lorcan!”
She searched every corpse she passed for a
hint of that shining black hair, that harsh face.
So many. The field of the dead stretched on
forever, bodies piled several deep.