Kingdom of Ash

fading. “To him.”
He’d suspected, somehow. That it might
come to this. Had asked her to teach him so he
might make this gamble.
And when Aelin looked behind her, to the
archway into her own world, she indeed could
... feel them. As if the Wyrdmarks he’d
secretly inked onto her were a rope. A tether
home.
A lifeline into eternity.
One last deceit.
Another voice whispered past then, a
fragment of memory, spoken on a rooftop in
Rifthold. What if we go on, only to more pain
and despair?
Then it is not the end.
That power flowed and flowed into Aelin.
Her lips curved upward.
It was not the end. And she was not
finished.