CHAPTER 109

Chaol’s back strained, pain lashing down his
spine. Whether from his wife’s healing within
the castle walls or from the hours of fighting,
he had no idea.
Didn’t care, as he and Dorian galloped
through the southern gate into Orynth, the two
of them little more than unmarked riders amid
the army racing in. Bracing for the impact of
the fresh host marching toward them.
Night would soon fall. Morath would not
wait until dawn. Not with the darkness that
hovered above them like some sort of awful
cloud.