CHAPTER 22

The snow-crusted plains of Terrasen flowed
southward, right to the rolling foothills that
spread to the horizon.
Earlier this summer, Lysandra had crossed
those foothills with her companions—with her
queen. Had watched Aelin ascend one, and
stride to the carved granite stone jutting from
its top. The marker of the border between
Adarlan and Terrasen. Her friend had taken a
step beyond the stone, and had been home.
Perhaps it made Lysandra a fool, but she
had not realized that the next time she’d see
the foothills again, wearing the feathers of a