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of it. For Terrasen, she deserved to pay this
price.
She had tried to make it right. Had tried,
and failed.
And she was so, so tired.
Fireheart.
The whispered word floated through the
eternal night, a glimmer of sound, of light.
Fireheart.
The woman’s voice was soft, loving. Her
mother’s voice.
Aelin turned her face away. Even that
movement was more than she could bear.
Fireheart, why do you cry?
Aelin could not answer.
Fireheart.
The words were a gentle brush down her
cheek. Fireheart, why do you cry?
And from far away, deep within her, Aelin
whispered toward that ray of memory,