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does not burn.”
It was no lie. The details, her plan with
Lysandra ... There was no way for Maeve to
know them unless they were truth. Could
Maeve have made a lucky guess in lying about
it? Yes—yes, and yet ...
Rowan had gone with them. They’d all
gone to the North. And had reached Terrasen.
A small mercy. A small mercy, and yet ...
The glass around her sparkled in the mist
and moonlight, her blood a thick stain
wending through it.
“I do not wish to wipe away this world, as
Erawan does,” said Maeve, as if they were no
more than two friends conversing at one of
Rifthold’s finest tea courts. If any still existed
after the Ironteeth had sacked the city. “I like
Erilea precisely the way it is. I always have.”
The glass, the blood, the veranda and
moonlight eddied in her vision.