Queen Of Glass

Chapter 26

Thunder boomed in the night sky, sending its explosive roar throughout the world. Rain and wind beat on the glass windows like a demon against the door of a place in which his evil demeanor would not permit him to enter. The air inside the house was tinted a midnight blue and filled with such electricity that made those beneath the roof of the house turn over uneasily in their sleep.
There was one, however, who did not sleep—one whose large eyes were clenched shut so tightly that her whole body shook beneath the safety of layers of blankets. The monstrous battle cry of thunder racked her body and mind, causing her to bite down on the hand of the doll that she clutched to her chest to keep from screaming aloud. Even in the darkness of her blanket-enshrouded world, the evanescent lightning still managed to flash its stark-white fury.
Thunder crashed again, shaking the entire house. Unable to control herself, the girl burst like a bat out of hell from beneath the blankets and into the hallway, her heart mercilessly hurling itself against her chest. She flew down the corridor, lightning flashing so brightly that it stunned her momentarily. Shadows and monsters lurked everywhere— some moving, some waiting for an unwary victim to fall into their claws. The house moaned and wailed, wishing it could give into the storm that sought to destroy it so completely.

The girl stopped at a door she had seen thousands of times and her small hand reached out to grasp the handle. Her fear of the storm finally mixing with her terror of the sure disappointment that awaited her from those inside, her tensed muscles and heightened anxiety burst from her like a dam. Unwanted sobs of horror slipped from her throat as she pushed open the door, the bedroom inside momentarily illuminated by another sheet of lightning. Two figures lay sleeping in a large canopied bed, each lying as still as—
O-o-o-O-o-o-O
With a gasp, Celaena Sardothien awoke from her dream. Her insides shaking as much as her hands, she fumbled in the dark for the matchbox that lay on her night table. Once she had found it, it took her several tries to get it lit.
The assassin looked at the room around her, trying to calm her beating heart with deep, assured breaths. It was as still as death, a place eerily preserved by the solitude of the night. There was no rain, there was no thunder, and there was no lightning. Beside her, Fleetfoot, the runt puppy who had been given to her by Dorian DeHavilliard, stirred and burrowed her head under Celaena's arm reassuringly.
It was only a dream.
But it wasn't just a dream, was it? Celaena knew the answer, and perhaps that was why her nerves refused to be calmed. She had had this dream before—many times, in fact. It was never finished, but the assassin preferred it not to be. She knew how it would end.
Watching the dim light of the candle glow weakly throughout the room, Celaena burrowed back under the covers and watched caliginous shadows dance until sleep overtook her.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Kaltain R'ompier turned over in her bed, unable to fall and remain asleep. Dreams of terror and rage hunted her, and the burden of her thoughts was so heavy that it outweighed even the sleep pressing upon her eyelids.
Kaltain opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. The bastard had killed Anuksun Ytger. No, she had killed Anuksun, and the person that had slaughtered Graev knew. It would only be a matter of time before 'The Huntress' came after her.
How could Graev have possibly gotten Lithaen and Anuksun confused? This was a catastrophe.
Dorian DeHavilliard was further away than he had ever been—Anuksun's death had brought him straight into the arms of Lithaen. If she hadn't been the one who had hired Graev, Kaltain would have suspected Lithaen of being behind the princess' death. After all, who knew what that wench was capable of? Her ego is probably sky-high right now. She thinks that because she's been called in for questioning before the Royal Council, she's a person of importance. Importance indeed. Once I'm on the throne, I'll have her shipped off to work in the mines of Endovier.
Kaltain smiled. The thought of her crown was always a calming one. It had always been. After her mother had died, Kaltain somehow had begun to realize that she was going to exceed her mother's beauty and charm. She knew that she would gain what her mother had always sought in vain to be: Queen. At the age of eight, dreams of a crown and a title became the replacement for a mother she had barely known. Kaltain R'ompier was more attached to the idea of royalty than she was to any person or possession on the earth.
Which was why, when Duke Perringtonn had offered to bring her to the palace, she hadn't said no. The prospect of being near Dorian DeHavilliard and his court for a long period of time fulfilled her wildest fantasies. Who cares about some quest for Adarlan's glory and power? Going to Renaril would mean she'd be able to court Dorian DeHavilliard and inevitably win what was her birthright.
Kaltain could barely even remember what she and the remaining women were competing for. What had Perringtonn said those many months ago? Something about Wendlyn and training and...Kaltain turned over on her side, unable to get comfortable, and frowned. Why were they learning about swords and weapons and all of that stuff that she couldn't find a name for? Why was she, Kaltain R'ompier, spending her time with manly, uncultured women like Jodra Nustrom and Lithaen Gordaina? Why had she been asked to compete with them? Surely Perringtonn didn't consider her to be on the same level as those brutes!
No, he couldn't.