A Court of Mist and Fury – 5 Stars
Plot – 5 Stars
“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare right back.”
After the death of Amarantha, Feyre and Tamlin should be blissful. The danger should be over. The Spring Court should be Feyre’s sanctuary. But, Feyre is anything but happy.
“I was going to fall apart, right there, right then – and they’d see precisely how ruined I was. Help me, help me, help me, I begged someone, anyone…Thunder cracked behind me, as if two boulders had been hurled against each other. People screamed, falling back, a few vanishing outright as darkness erupted. I whirled, and through the night drifting away like smoke on a wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket. ‘Hello, Feyre darling,’ he purred.”
Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, the rescuer?
“What do you want from me?’ ‘Want? I want you to say thank you, first of all. Then I want you to take off that hideous dress. You look…’ His mouth cut a cruel line. ‘You look exactly like the doe-eyed damsel he and that other simpering priestess want you to be.”
Rhysand, devil incarnate, the cheerleader?
“You can be a pawn, be someone’s reward, and spend the rest of your immortal life bowing and scraping and pretending you’re less than him, than Ianthe, than any of us. If you want to pick that road, then fine. A shame, but it’s your choice…But I know you – more than you realize, I think – and I don’t believe for one damn minute that you’re remotely fine with being a pretty trophy for someone who sat on his ass for nearly fifty years, then sat on his ass while you were shredded apart – ‘ ‘Stop it – ‘ ‘Or,’ he plowed ahead, ‘you’ve got another choice.’
Feyre is delivered back to Tamlin, back to the Spring Court – her cage.
“I barely heard him over the roar in my ears. Didn’t wait to see him pass the gates and winnow too. He’d locked me in. He’d sealed me inside this house…Breathing became difficult. I was trapped…It was all I could do to keep from screaming, to keep from shattering into ten thousand pieces as I sank onto the marble floor, bowing over my knees, and wrapped my arms around myself. He’d trapped me, he’d trapped me, he’d trapped me – I had to get out…I fumbled for my power, for anything, something that might show me the way to do it, the way out. Nothing. There was nothing I had become nothing, and I couldn’t ever get out … I was ensconced in a cocoon of darkness and fire and ice and wind, a cocoon that melted the ring off my finger until the golden ore dripped away onto the void, the emerald tumbling after it. I wrapped that raging force around myself as if it could keep the walls from crushing me entirely, and maybe, maybe buy me the tiniest sip of air – I couldn’t get out; I couldn’t get out; I couldn’t get out…”
Rhysand, High Lord of the Court of Nightmares, Feyre’s savior?
“Stay here for however long you want. Stay here forever, if you feel like it…’ I looked towards the mountains, as if I could see all the way to the Spring Court in the south. Tamlin would be furious. He’d shred the manor apart. But he’d… he’d locked me up. Either he so deeply misunderstood me or he’d been so broken by what went on Under the Mountain, but … he’d locked me up. ‘I’m not going back.”
How will young Feyre manage in the Night Court?
“I smelled jasmine first – then saw stars. A sea of stars flickering beyond glowing pillars of moonstone that framed the sweeping view of endless snowcapped mountains. ‘Welcome to the Night Court,’ was all Rhysand said. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.
So. Much. Action.
“I was so focused on it that I didn’t notice anyone was behind me until the hand covered my mouth and yanked me clean off my feet.”
“Fire erupted, and the Weaver’s shriek was so piercing I thought my head might shatter; I thought my blood might boil in its veins.”
“I reached her, shoving my body into the door, over and over, and the lead dented beneath my shoulders. Then I had talons, talons not claws, and I was slicing and punching at the metal – my lungs were on fire.”
“His shredded wings twitching and spraying blood, his muscles quivering…his eyes fluttered open, glazed and unseeing.”
Characters – 5 Stars
Rhysand’s inner circle is filled with clever, witty, sarcastic, brutally honest barbarians.
“Hurry up you lazy ass,’ a deep male voice drawled from the antechamber beyond…
The pounding continued, followed by the second male murming to his companion, ‘If you’re going to pick a fight with him, do it after breakfast.’ The voice – like shadows given form, dark and smooth and … cold.
‘I wasn’t the one who hauled me out of bed just now to fly down here,’ the first one said. Then added, ‘Busybody.”
“How the hell did you make that bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair when you look like your own bones can snap at any moment?’
‘How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?’
Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House.”
“Mor breezed onto the balcony with, “If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”
“Amren snorted, picking at her nails while she lounged in a chaise. ‘She heard you the first ten times you said it, Cassian.’
‘Keep talking, Amren, and I’ll drag you into the ring and see how much practice you’ve actually been doing.’
Amren just continued cleaning her nails – with a tiny bone…’Touch me, Cassian, and I’ll remove your favorite part. Small as it might be.”
And, of course, Feyre and Rhysand
“Put a shirt on while you’re at it,’ I quipped.
A feline smile. ‘Does it make you uncomfortable?’
‘I’m surprised there aren’t more mirrors in this house, since you seem to love looking at yourself so much.”
Azriel launched into a coughing fit. Cassian just turned away, a hand clamped over his mouth.
Romance – 4 Stars
“Love – love was a balm as much as it was a poison.”
I don’t want to give too much away here, but I took a point off because of Tamlin, and the ‘snarling’. If it was only about Feyre and Rhysand from the beginning (and no ‘snarling’), this would be 6 swoon-worthy stars.
“You,’ I breathed, not taking my eyes from the musicians playing so skillfully that even the diners had set down their forks in the cafes nearby. ‘You sent that music to my cell. Why?’ Rhysand’s voice was hoarse. ‘Because you were breaking. And I couldn’t find another way to save you.”
“I’m thinking,’ he said, following the flick of my tongue over my bottom lip, ‘that I look at you and feel like I’m dying. Like I can’t breathe. I’m thinking that I want you so badly I can’t concentrate half the time I’m around you.”
This book is a MUST read
“To the people who look at the stars and wish.”