Kingdom of Ash

The flame in my hearth dates back to the Crochan city itself, when Brannon Galathynius gave Rhiannon a spark of eternally burning fire.

Only a Crochan Queen may ignite the Flame of War, to summon every witch from her hearth.”

Valg. The spider, somehow, was Valg. And not possessed, but born.

“If you wish to be something, king-with-no-crown, then be it. That is the secret to the shifting. Be what you wish.”

Manon’s golden eyes glowed in the firelight. “I swear it. I did not lead them here.”

Glennis nodded, but Dorian stared at Manon.

Damaris had gone cold as ice. So cold the golden hilt bit into his skin.

“North,” Gavriel said, turning his bay gelding. “The surge came from the North.”

“But I’m not fool enough to believe I know more about armies and soldiers than you do. My pride is not so easily bruised.”

Not as a trickle of blood snaked down Maeve’s cheek.

Black blood. As dark as night.

The family he might have, the future he might have. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

She stared toward him, hair still flowing. Behind her, four small figures emerged.