Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass) by Sarah J. Maas Read Free Book Online

look, but the demon said, “I want you to personally bring him to me. If he survives the attack.”
    And with the fiery queen now gone, Dorian Havilliard and his city were defenseless.
    It mattered little to her. It was war.
    Fight this war, and go home to the Wastes at the end of it. Even if this man, this demon king, might very well renege on his word.
    She’d deal with that later. But first … open battle. She could already hear its wild song in her blood.
    The demon king and her grandmother were speaking again, and Manon cleared away the melody of clashing shields and sparking swords long enough to process their words.
    “Once the capital is secured, I want those boats on the Avery.”
    “The men of the Silver Lake have agreed?” Her grandmother studied the map weighted to the glass table by smooth stones. Manon followed theMatron’s stare to the Silver Lake, at the other end of the Avery, and to its city, nestled against the White Fangs: Anielle.
    Perrington—Erawan—shrugged his broad shoulders. “Its lord has not yet declared allegiance to me or the boy-king. I suspect when word reaches him of Rifthold’s demise, we will find his messengers groveling on our doorstep.” A flicker of a smile. “Their Keep along the Western Falls of the lake still bears scars from the last time my armies marched. I have seen the countless monuments in Anielle to that war—its lord will know how easily I can again turn his city into a charnel house.”
    Manon studied the map again, shutting out the questions.
    Old. The Valg king was so old as to make her feel young. To make her grandmother look like a child, too.
    Fool—perhaps her grandmother had been a fool to sell them into an unwitting alliance with this creature. She made herself meet Erawan’s stare. “With strongholds in Morath, Rifthold, and Anielle, that only covers the southern half of Adarlan. What of north of the Ferian Gap? Or south of Adarlan?”
    “Bellhaven remains under my control—its lords and merchants love their gold too much. Melisande…” The demon king’s golden eyes fixed on the western country across the mountains. “Eyllwe lies shattered beneath her, Fenharrow in barren shambles to the east. It remains in Melisande’s best interest to continue allying her forces with my own, especially when Terrasen hasn’t a copper to its name.” The king’s stare roamed northward. “Aelin Galathynius will have reached her seat by now. And when Rifthold is gone, she will also find how very alone she is in the North. Brannon’s heir has no allies on this continent. Not anymore.”
    But Manon noted the way the demon king’s eyes darted to Eyllwe—just for a flicker.
    She looked to her grandmother, silent yet watching Manon with an expression that promised death if she pushed too far. But Manon said toErawan, “Your capital is the heart of your commerce. If I unleash my legion upon it, you will have few human allies—”
    “Last I looked, Manon Blackbeak, it was my legion.”
    Manon held Erawan’s burning gaze, even as it stripped her bare. “Turn Rifthold into a complete ruin,” she said flatly, “and rulers like the Lord of Anielle or the Queen of Melisande or the Lords of Fenharrow might very well find it worth the risk to rally against you. If you wreck your own capital, why should they believe your claims of alliance? Send a decree ahead of us that the king, the queen are enemies to the continent. Establish us as liberators of Rifthold, not conquerors, and you will have the other rulers thinking twice before allying with Terrasen. I will sack the city for you enough to display our might—but keep the Ironteeth host from leaving it in rubble.”
    Those gold eyes narrowed with consideration.
    She knew her grandmother was one more word away from gouging her nails down Manon’s cheek, but she kept her shoulders back. She didn’t care about the city, its people. But this war could indeed turn against them if the annihilation of Rifthold