Nina Varela

Critically acclaimed author Nina Varela delivers a stunning sequel to the richly imagined queer epic fantasy Crier’s War, which SLJ called “perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass.” For too long, Automae have lorded over the kingdom of Rabu, oppressing its human citizens. But the human revolution has risen, and at its heart is Ayla. Once a handmaiden, now a fugitive, Ayla narrowly escaped the palace of Lady Crier, the girl she would’ve killed if she hadn’t fallen in love first. Now Ayla has pledged her allegiance to Queen Junn, who can help accomplish the human rebellion’s ultimate goal: destroy the Iron Heart. Without its power, the Automae will be weakened to the point of extinction. Ayla wants to succeed, but can’t shake the strong feelings she’s developed for Crier. And unbeknownst to her, Crier has also fled the palace, taking up among traveling rebels, determined to find and protect Ayla. Even as their paths collide, nothing can prepare them for the dark secret underlying the Iron Heart.

Iron Heart

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Yes, we have touched the stars – but we are still connected deeply to the earth. We must not forget.

I gave you everything. My life's work, knowledge, mad dreams, bed. And you can't even give me time?

When you touched me I burned red. Back then, I thought it was a good thing. Burning.

From light you were born and to light you shall return. Go now into the stars. They've been waiting for you.

It's you, the wash of starlight, the old paradox: if the Universe were static, I could stand anywhere in this world and I swear my line of sight would end on you. I swear I'd find you in the dark.

My favorite thing about humans: we sing to our dead.

There was a darkness in death, but Winter knew from Hana that it wasn't emptiness or shadows or the absolute black between the stars. Death was a dark soil. Death was a soft and ancient womb.

And just like that, Ayla's breath hitched in her throat, and the words left her, and she could have sworn her entire being had narrowed to that small point of contact, the place where Crier's fingers were curled loosely around her own. 

Iron Heart quotes

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