Read Online Heir of Fire by Sarah J. Maas - Free Book Online Page B

devour your soul.
    â€œ Th ey broke my laws, you know. Your parents disobeyed my commands when they eloped. Th e bloodlines ­were too volatile to be mixed, but your mother promised to let me see you a ft er you ­were born.” Maeve cocked her head, eerily similar to the owl behind her. “It would seem that in the eight years a ft er your birth, she was always too busy to uphold her vow.”
    If her mother had broken a promise . . . if her mother had kept her from Maeve, it had been for a damn good reason. A reason that tickled at the edges of Celaena’s mind, a blur of memory.
    â€œBut now you are ­here,” Maeve said, seeming to come closer without moving. “And a grown woman. My eyes across the sea have brought me such strange, horrible stories of you. From your scars and steel, I wonder whether they are indeed true. Like the tale I heard over a year ago, that an assassin with Ashryver eyes was spotted by the horned Lord of the North in a wagon bound for—”
    â€œEnough.” Celaena glanced at Rowan, who was listening intently, as if this was the fi rst he was hearing of it. She didn’t want him knowing about Endovier—­didn’t want that pity. “I know my own history.” She fl ashed Rowan a glare that told him to mind his own business. He merely looked away, bored again. Typical immortal arrogance. Celaena faced Maeve, tucking her hands into her pockets. “I’m an assassin, yes.”
    A snort from behind, but she didn’t dare take her eyes o ff Maeve.
    â€œAnd your other talents?” Maeve’s nostrils fl ared—­scenting. “What has become of them?”
    â€œLike everyone ­else on my continent, I ­haven’t been able to access them.”
    Maeve’s eyes twinkled, and Celaena knew—­knew that Maeve could smell the half truth. “You are not on your continent anymore,” Maeve purred.
    Run . Every instinct roared with the word. She had a feeling that the Eye of Elena would have been no use, but she wished she had it anyway. Wished the dead queen ­were ­here, for that matter. Rowan was still at the door—­but if she was fast, if she outsmarted him . . .
    A fl ash of memory blinded her, bright and uncontrollable, unleashed by the instinct begging her to fl ee. Her mother had rarely let Fae into their home, even with her heritage. A few trusted ones ­were allowed to live with them, but any Fae visitors had been closely monitored, and for the duration of their stay, Celaena had been sequestered in the family’s private chambers. She’d always thought it was overprotective, but now . . . “Show me,” Maeve whispered with a spider’s smile. Run. Run .
    She could still feel the burn of blue wild fi re exploding out of her in that demon realm, still see Chaol’s face as she lost control of it. One wrong move, one wrong breath , and she could have killed him and Fleetfoot.
    Th e owl rustled its wings, the wood groaning beneath its talons, and the darkness in Maeve’s eyes spread, reaching. Th ere was a faint pulse in the air, a throbbing against her blood. A tapping, then a razor-­sharp slicing against her mind—­as if Maeve were trying to cleave open her skull and peer inside. Pushing, testing, tasting—
    Fighting to keep her breathing steady, Celaena positioned her hands within easy reach of her blades as she pushed back against the claws in her mind. Maeve let out a low laugh, and the pressure in her head ceased.
    â€œYour mother hid you from me for years,” Maeve said. “She and your father always had a remarkable talent for knowing when my eyes ­were searching for you. Such a rare gi ft —­the ability to summon and manipulate fl ame. So few exist who possess more than an ember of it; fewer still who can master its wildness. And yet your mother wanted you to sti fl e your power—­though she knew that I only wanted you to