price to forge the Lock and seal the gate. A
desperate, foolish hope.
The hours passed, the stacks of books
dwindling. Fenrys joined them after a time,
unusually solemn as they searched and
searched. And found nothing.
When there were no books left in the trunk,
when Borte was nodding off and Rowan was
pacing through the tent, Aelin did them all a
favor and ordered them to return to the keep.
It had been worth a look, she told herself.
Even if the leaden weight in her gut said
otherwise.
Chaol found his father where he’d left him,
seething in his study.
“You cannot give a single acre of this
territory to the wild men,” his father hissed as
Chaol wheeled into the room and shut the
door.