Page 171 of Kingdom of Ash

But Falkan said to Aelin and her companions, “You know my niece.”

His brother must have been a great deal older to have sired Lysandra. There was nothing of Falkan in her friend’s face, though Lysandra had also forgotten her original form.

“Lysandra is my friend, and Lady of Caraverre,” Aelin said. “She is not with us,” she added upon Falkan’s hopeful glance toward the tent flaps. “She’s in the North.”

Borte had gone back to studying the Fae males. Not their considerable beauty, but their size, their pointed ears, their weapons and elongated canines. Aelin whispered conspiratorially to the girl, “Make them roll over before you offer them a treat.”

Lorcan glared, but Fenrys shifted in a flash, the enormous white wolf filling the space.

Hasar swore, Sartaq backing away a step, but Borte beamed. “You are all truly Fae, then.”

Gavriel, ever the gallant knight, sketched a bow. Lorcan, the bastard, just crossed his arms.

Yet Rowan smiled at Borte. “Indeed we are.”

Borte whirled to Aelin. “Then you are Aelin Galathynius. You look just how Nesryn said.”

Aelin grinned at Nesryn, the woman leaning against Sartaq’s side. “I hope you only said horrible things about me.”

“Only the worst,” Nesryn said with dead flatness, though her mouth twitched.

But Falkan whispered, “The queen,” and fell to his knees.

Hasar laughed. “He never showed that sort of awe when he met us.”

Sartaq lifted his brows. “You told him to turn into a rat and scuttle away.”

Aelin hoisted up Falkan by the shoulder. “I can’t have my friend’s uncle kneeling on the ground, can I?”

“You said you were an assassin.” Falkan’s eyes were so wide the whites around them gleamed. “You stole horses from the Lord of Xandria—”

“Yes, yes,” Aelin said, waving a hand. “It’s a long story, and we’re in the middle of a war council, so …”

“Piss off?” Falkan finished.

Aelin laughed, but glanced to Nesryn and Sartaq. The former jerked her chin to Falkan. “He’s become our spy of sorts. He joins us in these meetings.”

Aelin nodded, then winked at the shifter. “I suppose you didn’t need me to slay that stygian spider after all.”

But Falkan tensed, his attention going to Nesryn and Sartaq, to Borte, still gawking at the Fae males. “Do they know?”

Aelin had a feeling she’d need to sit down again. Chaol indeed patted the chair beside him, earning a chuckle from Yrene.

Doing herself a favor, Aelin indeed sat, Rowan taking up his place behind her, both of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. His thumb ran along the nape of her neck, then drifted over the mating marks again scarring one side thanks to the seawater they’d used to seal them.

But as her muscles soothed beneath that loving touch, her soul with it, her breath remained tight.

It didn’t get any better when Nesryn said, “The stygian spiders are Valg.”

Silence.

“We encountered their kin, thekharankui, deep in the Dagul Fells. They came into this world through a temporary crack between realms, and remained afterward to guard the entrance, should it ever reappear.”

“This cannot end well,” Fenrys muttered. Elide hummed her agreement.

“They feed on dreams and years and life,” Falkan said, a hand on his own chest. “As my friends have said the Valg do.”

Aelin had seen Valg princes drain a human of every last drop of youth and vigor and leave only a dried corpse behind. She wouldn’t put it past the spiders to have a similar gift.

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