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“The flame in her eyes was not of your usual sort, I take it.' Lucien shook his head. 'No. It spoke to nothing in my own arsenal. That was... Ice so cold it burned. Ice and yet... fluid like flame. Or flame made of ice.' 'I think it's death,' I said quietly. I held Rhys's gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. 'I think the power is death- death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That's why the Carver heard it- heard about her.' 'Mother above,' Lucien said, dragging a hand through his hair. Cassian gave him a solemn nod. But Rhys rubbed his jaw, weighing, thinking. Then he said simply, 'Only Nesta would not just conquer Death- but pillage it.” — Sarah J. Maas
The flame in her eyes was not of your usual sort, I take it.'
Lucien shook his head. 'No. It spoke to nothing in my own arsenal. That was... Ice so cold it burned. Ice and yet... fluid like flame. Or flame made of ice.'
'I think it's death,' I said quietly.
I held Rhys's gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. 'I think the power is death- death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That's why the Carver heard it- heard about her.'
'Mother above,' Lucien said, dragging a hand through his hair.
Cassian gave him a solemn nod.
But Rhys rubbed his jaw, weighing, thinking. Then he said simply, 'Only Nesta would not just conquer Death- but pillage it.