Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass) by Sarah J. Maas Page A

Orynth again.” Murtaugh gave her a grim, confirming nod. Aelin shrugged. “So we don’t touch him. We play his game—play by rules and laws and oaths.”
    Several feet away, Lysandra and Evangeline still spoke softly, the girl now crying in her mistress’s arms, Fleetfoot anxiously nuzzling her hip.
    Aelin met Murtaugh’s stare. “I do not know you, Lord, but you were loyal to my uncle—to my family these long years.” She slid a dagger free of a hidden sheath along her thigh. They flinched as she sliced into her palm. Even Aedion started. Aelin clenched her bloodied palm into a fist, holding it in the air between them. “Because of that loyalty, you willunderstand what blood promises mean to me when I say if that girl comes to harm, physical or otherwise, I do not care what laws exist, what rules I will break.” Lysandra had now turned to them, her shifter senses detecting blood. “If Evangeline is hurt, you will burn. All of you.”
    “Threatening your loyal court?” sneered a cold voice as Darrow halted a few feet away. Aelin ignored him. Murtaugh was wide-eyed—so was Ren.
    Her blood seeped into the sacred earth. “Let this be your test.”
    Aedion swore. He understood. If the Lords of Terrasen could not keep one child safe in their kingdom, could not find it in themselves to save Evangeline, to look after someone who could do them no good, gain them no wealth or rank … they would deserve to perish.
    Murtaugh bowed again. “Your will is mine, Majesty.” He added quietly, “I lost my granddaughters. I will not lose another.” With that, the old man walked toward where Darrow waited, pulling the lord aside.
    Her heart strained, but Aelin said to Ren, that scar hidden by the shadows of his rain-drenched hood, “I wish we had time to speak. Time for me to explain.”
    “You’re good at walking away from this kingdom. I don’t see why now would be different.”
    Aedion let out a snarl, but Aelin cut him off. “Judge me all you like, Ren Allsbrook. But do not fail this kingdom.”
    She saw the unspoken retort flash in Ren’s eyes. Like you did for ten years .
    The blow struck low and deep, but she turned away. As she did, she noted how Ren’s eyes fell on the little girl—on the brutal scars across Evangeline’s face. Near-twins to the ones on his own. Something in his gaze softened, just a bit.
    But Darrow was now thundering toward Aelin, pushing past Murtaugh, his face white with anger. “You—” he started.
    Aelin held up a hand, flame leaping at her fingertips, rain turning tosteam above it. Blood snaked down her wrist from the deep cut, sibling to the other on her right hand, bright as Goldryn’s ruby, peeking over her shoulder. “I’ll make one more promise,” she said, folding her bloodied hand into a fist as she lowered it before them. Darrow tensed.
    Her blood dripped onto the sacred soil of Terrasen, and her smile turned lethal. Even Aedion held his breath beside her.
    Aelin said, “I promise you that no matter how far I go, no matter the cost, when you call for my aid, I will come. I promise you on my blood, on my family’s name, that I will not turn my back on Terrasen as you have turned your back on me. I promise you, Darrow, that when the day comes and you crawl for my help, I will put my kingdom before my pride and not kill you for this. I think the true punishment will be seeing me on the throne for the rest of your miserable life.”
    His face had gone from white to purple.
    She just turned away.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” Darrow demanded. So Murtaugh had not filled him in on her plan to go to the Dead Islands. Interesting.
    She looked over her shoulder. “To call in old debts and promises. To raise an army of assassins and thieves and exiles and commoners. To finish what was started long, long ago.”
    Silence was his answer.
    So Aelin and Aedion strode to where Lysandra now monitored them, solemn-faced in the rain, Evangeline hugging herself as