Chapter Eight

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The Dark Queen stood on top of the hill, black dress rippling in the wind like onyx water. On her shoulder was an owl, its heart-shaped face tilted to face the Queen's. Her hands were curled in fists, clutching the remains of a necklace, now only tattered chain and the sparkle of forgotten gems here and there along the string. 

Far below the echoes of Aelin Galathynius's screams slowly faded away into silence. Cold, dead silence, reminding the Queen of her failure. 

What will I do? she wondered. 

And just when her future seemed to be beginning to burn, the first thread of an idea began to wind its way through her consciousness. A plan to bring to Fire-Bringer to her knees one final time...

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