Saturday, September 5, 2015

Heir of Fire

I simply can't review this book. I just can't. It's too good. It's too great.

Instead...

"You do not apologize," he said, "for defending the people you care about." -Rowan


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...in the weeks she had been looking at him it had been like gazing at a reflection. No wonder she loathed him.


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And somewhere far and deep inside her, an ember began to glow. 


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Ice and fire. Frost and embers. Locked in a battle, pushing and pulling. Beneath it, she could almost taste Rowan's steel will slamming against her magic-a will that refused to let the fire burn her into nothing. 


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He got his answer a heartbeat later, as he waited for her to shout or shriek or walk away. But the princess just slowly got to her feet, not bothering to brush off the dirt and leaves, and kept practicing. 


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Knew that Lady Marion, who had loved her husband and daughter so much, was gone. Knew that this-this was called sacrifice. 


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She had wasted her life, wasted Marion's sacrifice. Those slaves had been butchered because she had failed-because she had not been there in time.
"Get up," someone said beyond the young princess. Sam. Sam, standing just beyond where she could see, smiling faintly. 
"Get up," said another voice-a woman's. Nehemia.
"Get up." Two voices said together-her mother and father, faces grave but eyes bright. Her uncle was beside them, the crown of Terrasen on his silver hair. "Get up," he told her gently. 


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And then there was Lady Marion, smiling beside her husband. "Get up," she whispered, her voice full of that hope for the world, and for the daughter she would never see again.


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Aelin Galathynius smiled at her, hand still outreached. "Get up," the princess said.

Celaena reached across the earth between them and brushed her fingers against Aelin's.

And arose. 


#

The two creatures lunged for her, the darkness sweeping in around them.

Rowan ran all of one step before she flung out her arms, grabbing the creatures by their flawless faces-her palms over their open mouths as she exhaled sharply.

As if she'd breathed fire into their cores, flames shot out of their eyes, their ears, their fingers. The two creatures didn't have a chance to scream as she burned them into cinders. 


 #

She knew the gold in her eyes had shifted to flame, because when she looked to Maeve, the queen's face had gone bone-white.

And then Celaena set the world on fire.


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