Page 352 of Kingdom of Ash

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold skittered down Rowan’s skin.

“The storm,” Aelin blurted, the words swallowed by the snow.

You must hurry. We will show you the way, swift and unseen.

Aelin only stilled. Said to that voice, as ancient as the trees, as old as the rocks between them, “You have already helped me so many times.”

And you have given much yourself, Heir of Brannon.We who remember him know he would have made such a choice, had he been able to do so. Oakwald shall never forget Brannon, or his Heir.

Aelin straightened, scanned the trees, the snow-whipped wind.

Dryad.That was the word he sought. Dryad. A tree spirit.

“What is your cost?” Aelin asked, her voice louder now.

“Do you really want to ask?” Fenrys muttered. Rowan snarled at him.

But Aelin had gone still as she waited for the dryad to answer. The voice of Oakwald, of the Little Folk and creatures who had long cared for it.

A better world, the dryad replied at last.Even for us.

The army was a flurry of activity as it hauled itself into preparing to march—to race northward.

But Aelin dragged Rowan into their tent. To the pile of books Chaol and Yrene had brought from the southern continent.

She ran a finger over the titles, searching, scanning.

“What are you doing?” her mate asked.

Aelin ignored the question and hummed as she found the book she sought. She leafed through it, careful not to tear the ancient pages. “A stupid cow I might be,” she muttered, rotating the book to show Rowan the page she sought, “but not without options.”

Rowan’s eyes danced.You’re including me in this particular scheme, Princess?

Aelin smirked.I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.

He angled his head. “We need to hurry, then.”

Listening to the ruckus of the readying army beyond their tent, Aelin nodded. And began.

CHAPTER 104

The sweat and blood on him quickly freezing, Aedion panted as he leaned against the battered city walls and watched the encamped enemy pull back for the night.

A sick sort of joke, a cruel torment, for Morath to halt at each sundown. As if it were some sort of civility, as if the creatures who infested so many of the soldiers below required light.

He knew why Erawan had ordered it so. To wear them down day by day, to break their spirits rather than let them go out in raging glory.

It wasn’t just the victory or conquest that Erawan desired, but their complete surrender. Their begging for it to be over, for him to end them, rule them.

Aedion ground his teeth as he limped down the battlements, the light quickly fading, the temperature plummeting.

Five days.

The weapons they’d estimated running out in three or four days had lasted until today. Until now.

Down the wall, one of the Mycenians sent a plume of flame onto theValg still trying to scale the siege ladder. Where it burned, demons fell away.

Rolfe stood by the woman wielding the firelance, his face as bloodied and sweaty as Aedion’s.

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