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Aelin watched the boat until it disappeared,
trying not to stare too long at the clean,
unstained sand beneath her boots, while the
others debated where they might be along the
coastline.
A few hours of hurrying northward, into
Wendlyn’s lands, and they got their answer:
close enough to the nearest port.
The tide was with them, and with the gold
they’d pilfered from the barrow-wights, it was
a matter of Rowan and Lorcan simply
crossing their arms before a ship was secured.
With Wendlyn’s armada sailing for
Terrasen’s shores, the rules about border
crossings had been revoked. Gone were the
several boat transfers to reach the continent
across the sea, the security measures. No mere
tyrant squatted in Adarlan, but a Valg king
with an aerial legion.
It made it easier for the messages she