A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book by Sarah J. Maas


Click here to Download A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book by Sarah J Maas having PDF Size 6 MB and No of Pages 682.

The buzzing flies and screaming survivors had long since replaced the beating war-drums. The killing field was now a tangled sprawl of corpses, human and faerie alike, interrupted only by broken wings jutting toward the gray sky or the occasional bulk of a felled horse. With the heat, despite the heavy cloud cover, the smell would soon be unbearable.

A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book by Sarah J. Maas

Name of Book A Court of Wings and Ruin
Author Sarah J. Maas
PDF Size 6 MB
No of Pages 682
Language English
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Flies already crawled along eyes gazing unblinkingly upward. They didn’t differentiate between mortal and immortal flesh. I picked my way across the once-grassy plain, marking the banners halfburied in mud and gore. It took most of my lingering strength to keep my wings from dragging over corpse and armor. My own power had been depleted well before the carnage had stopped.

I’d spent the final hours fighting as the mortals beside me had: with sword and fist and brute, unrelenting focus. We’d held the lines against Ravennia’s legions—hour after hour, we’d held the lines, as I had been ordered to do by my father, as I knew I must do. To falter here would have been the killing blow to our already-sundering resistance.

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The keep looming at my back was too valuable to be yielded to the Loyalists. Not just for its location in the heart of the continent, but for the supplies it guarded. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book Download For the forges that smoldered day and night on its western side, toiling to stock our forces. The smoke of those forges now blended with the pyres already being kindled behind me as I kept walking, scanning the faces of the dead.

I made a note to dispatch any soldiers who could stomach it to claim weapons from either army. We needed them too desperately to bother with honor. Especially since the other side did not bother with it at all. So still—the battlefield was so still, compared with the slaughter and chaos that had finally halted hours ago.

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The Loyalist army had retreated rather than surrender, leaving their dead for the crows. I edged around a fallen bay gelding, the beautiful beast’s eyes still wide with terror, flies crusting his bloodied flank. The rider was twisted beneath it, the man’s head partially severed. Not from a sword blow. No, those brutal gashes were claws.

I’d used my power until it was nothing but smoke in my veins, and then I’d used my Illyrian training until swinging my shield and sword was all I knew, all I could manage against the hordes. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book Download A half-shredded Illyrian wing jutted from a cluster of High Fae corpses, as if it had taken all six of them to bring the warrior down.

As if he’d taken them all out with him. My heartbeat pounded through my battered body as I hauled away the piled corpses. Reinforcements had arrived at dawn on the third and final day, sent by my father after my plea for aid. I had been too lost in battle-rage to note who they were beyond an Illyrian unit, especially when so many had been wielding Siphons.

But in the hours since they’d saved our asses and turned the tide of the battle, I had not spotted either of my brothers amongst the living. Did not know if Cassian or Azriel had even fought on the plain. The latter was unlikely, as my father kept him close for spying, but Cassian … Cassian could have been reassigned.

I wouldn’t have put it past my father to shift Cassian to a unit most likely to be slaughtered. As this one had been, barely half limping off the battlefield earlier. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book My aching, bloodied fingers dug into dented armor and clammy, stiff flesh as I heaved away the last of the High Fae corpses piled atop the fallen Illyrian soldier.

A bright, pretty lie, bursting with pale pink blooms and fat beams of sunshine. I’d begun it yesterday, an idle study of the rose garden lurking beyond the open windows of the studio. Through the tangle of thorns and satiny leaves, the brighter green of the hills rolled away into the distance. Incessant, unrelenting spring.

If I’d painted this glimpse into the court the way my gut had urged me, it would have been flesh-shredding thorns, flowers that choked off the sunlight for any plants smaller than them, and rolling hills stained red. But each brushstroke on the wide canvas was calculated; each dab and swirl of blending colors meant to portray not just idyllic spring, but a sunny disposition as well.

Not too happy, but gladly, finally healing from horrors I carefully divulged. I supposed that in the past weeks, I had crafted my demeanor as intricately as one of these paintings. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book I supposed that if I had also chosen to show myself as I truly wished, I would have been adorned with fleshshredding talons, and hands that choked the life out of those now in my company.

I would have left the gilded halls stained red. Not yet, I told myself with every brushstroke, with every move I’d made these weeks. Swift revenge helped no one and nothing but my own, roiling rage. Even if every time I spoke to them, I heard Elain’s sobbing as she was forced into the Cauldron. Even if every time I looked at them, I saw Nesta fling that finger at the King of Hybern in a death-promise.

Even if every time I scented them, my nostrils were again full of the tang of Cassian’s blood as it pooled on the dark stones of that bone-castle. The paintbrush snapped between my fingers. I’d cleaved it in two, the pale handle damaged beyond repair. Cursing under my breath, I glanced to the windows, the doors.

This place was too full of watching eyes to risk throwing it in the rubbish bin. I cast my mind around me like a net, trawling for any others near enough to witness, to be spying. I found none. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Book I held my hands before me, one half of the brush in each palm. For a moment, I let myself see past the glamour that concealed the tattoo on my right hand and forearm.

The markings of my true heart. My true title. High Lady of the Night Court. Half a thought had the broken paintbrush going up in flames. The fire did not burn me, even as it devoured wood and brush and paint. When it was nothing but smoke and ash, I invited in a wind that swept them from my palms and out the open windows.

I’d barely heard a whisper of Jurian these past weeks—hadn’t seen the resurrected human commander since that night in Hybern. Jurian had been reborn through the Cauldron using the hideous remnants of him that Amarantha had hoarded as trophies for five hundred years, his soul trapped and aware within his own magically preserved eye.

He was mad—had gone mad long before the King of Hybern had resurrected him to lead the human queens down a path of ignorant submission. Tamlin and Lucien had to know. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF Had to have seen that gleam in Jurian’s eyes. But … they also did not seem to entirely mind that the King of Hybern possessed the Cauldron—that it was capable of cleaving this world apart.

Starting with the wall. The only thing standing between the gathering, lethal Fae armies and the vulnerable human lands below. No, that threat certainly didn’t seem to keep Lucien or Tamlin awake at night. Or from inviting these monsters into their home. Tamlin had promised upon my return that I was to be included in the planning, in every meeting.

And he was true to his word when he explained that Jurian would arrive with two other commanders from Hybern, and I would be present for it. They indeed wished to survey the wall, to test for the perfect spot to rend it once the Cauldron had recovered its strength. Turning my sisters into Fae, apparently, had drained it. My first task: learn where they planned to strike, and how long the Cauldron required to return to its full capacity.

And then smuggle that information to Rhysand and the others. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF I took extra care dressing the next day, after sleeping fitfully thanks to a dinner with a guilt-ridden Ianthe, who went to excessive lengths to kiss my ass and Lucien’s. The priestess apparently wished to wait until the Hybern commanders were settled before making her appearance.

She’d cooed about wanting to ensure they had the chance to get to know us before she intruded, but one look at Lucien told me that he and I, for once, agreed: she had likely planned some sort of grand entrance. It made little difference to me—to my plans. Plans that I sent down the mating bond the next morning, words and images tumbling along a night-filled corridor. I did not dare risk using the bond too often.

I had communicated with Rhysand only once since I’d arrived. Just once, in the hours after I’d walked into my old bedroom and spied the thorns that had conquered it. I had not dared to ask for more details about Cassian and Azriel—or my sisters. In terror of knowing just how bad it had been—and what I’d do if their healing turned grim. What I’d bring down upon these people. Healing. Alive and healing.

I reminded myself of that every day. Even when I still heard their screams, smelled their blood. But I did not ask for more. Did not risk touching the bond beyond that first time. A Court of Wings and Ruin PDF I didn’t know if someone could monitor such things—the silent messages between mates. Not when the mating bond could be scented, and I was playing such a dangerous game with it.

Everyone believed it had been severed, that Rhys’s lingering scent was because he’d forced me, had planted that scent in me. They believed that with time, with distance, his scent would fade. Weeks or months, likely. The spring woods fell silent as we rode between the budding trees, birds and small furred beasts having darted for cover long before we passed.

Not from me, or Lucien, or the three sentries trailing a respectful distance behind. But from Jurian and the two Hybern commanders who rode in the center of our party. As if they were as awful as the Bogge, as the naga. We reached the wall without incident or Jurian trying to bait us into distraction. I’d been awake most of the night, casting my awareness through the manor, hunting for any sign that Dagdan and Brannagh were working their daemati influence on anyone else.

Mercifully, the curse-breaking ability I’d inherited from Helion Spell-Cleaver, High Lord of the Day Court, had detected no tangles, no spells, save for the wards around the house itself, preventing anyone from winnowing in or out. Tamlin had been tense at breakfast, but had not asked me to remain behind. I’d even gone so far as to test him by asking what was wrong—to which he’d only replied that he had a headache. Lucien had just patted him on the shoulder and promised to look after me. I’d nearly laughed at the words.

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