"They shouldn't receive anything!"the second Northern man interjected, his younger face flushed with anger."Every bite they take is stolen from proper people.From children!Fromourchildren!"
"People have to eat," Felah said quietly, having moved to stand near Thalia."Allpeople."
The gray-bearded man rounded on her, his contempt undisguised."Wardens aren't people.They're animals.Worse than animals.They're monsters who brought this curse upon us with their foul magic."
"That's enough," Thalia snapped, stepping between Felah and the man."I won't listen to that kind of talk.The Wardens aren't responsible for the Deep Tide—they're its first victims.They've been fighting it for generations while we ignored their warnings."
"Listen to her," sneered the third Northerner, his thin face sharp with malice."Defending the enemy.Typical Southerner—weak, sympathetic to those who would destroy us."
Something snapped inside Thalia—the fragile control she'd maintained over her temper, already frayed by exhaustion and frustration.She stepped forward, her hand finding the hilt of her harvesting knife without conscious thought.
"Say that again," she challenged, her voice dropping to a dangerous quiet."Call me weak one more time while I'm holding this blade."
The gray-bearded man's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't back down.Instead, he moved closer, deliberately invading her space, using his greater height as intimidation."You're not just weak," he said, his voice pitched low."You're a traitor.We've heard the whispers, even as newcomers.How you speak for the Wardens.How you claim this black water is something other than their sorcery."His lip curled in disgust."Perhaps you're more than a sympathizer.Perhaps you're a collaborator."
Thalia's vision narrowed, rage burning through her veins like wildfire.Her grip tightened on the knife, her body tensing for the violence that seemed inevitable.One swift movement.One sharp lesson in respect.One—
"Thalia, don't."Felah's hand closed around her wrist, gentle but insistent."They're not worth it.And we need to bring back whatever we've found.People are counting on us."
Reality crashed back through Thalia's anger—the reality of their desperate situation, of the black waters rising in the fjord, of the weapon she and Naj had forged that might represent their only hope.All of it jeopardized if she gave in to this petty provocation.
She forced her fingers to release the knife, though the tension remained coiled in her muscles, ready to spring."You're right," she said to Felah, though her eyes remained locked on the Northern man."They're not worth it."
With deliberate movements, she turned away, bending to gather the collection sack she'd dropped during the confrontation.The snow soaked through the knees of her trousers, the cold a sharp counterpoint to the heat of her anger.
"Let's move further west," she said to Felah, her voice steadier than she felt."There might be better foraging at the treeline."
As they trudged through the snow, leaving the Northerners to follow or not as they chose, Thalia felt the earlier excitement drain from her completely.The hollow pit of hunger in her stomach seemed to expand, consuming her hope along with her energy.Luna had been right.An alliance between peoples who had been enemies for generations was unlikely, perhaps impossible, even with the shadow of extinction looming over them all.
Yet what choice remained?Divided, they would fall to the darkness.United, they might at least face it standing.
The blade she and Naj had forged proved cooperation was possible.One small light against the gathering dark.Whether it would be enough—whether they could forge more such lights before the Deep Tide consumed them all—remained to be seen.
For now, she would gather what nourishment the winter forest offered and return to Frostforge with her meager harvest.And tonight, when darkness fell and the keep grew quiet, she would descend once more to the Howling Forge to continue the work that might yet save them all—with or without the blessing of those who refused to see beyond their ancient hatreds.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thalia led her reluctant allies down the winding stone staircase into the Howling Forge, their footfalls echoing despite their attempts at stealth.The central furnace still burned, its amber heart casting long, dancing shadows across walls of ancient stone.She felt the weight of their doubt pressing against her back, heavier than the experimental blade hidden beneath her cloak, heavier even than the fate hanging over them all.But doubt was a luxury they could no longer afford, not with black waters rising in the fjord below, not with the Deep Tide advancing on all sides.
"I still don't understand why we couldn't just talk about this somewhere less...forbidden," Felah whispered, her slight frame huddled into itself as if trying to occupy less space.Her dark eyes darted between workstations and shadowed corners, searching for threats that might emerge from the darkness.
"Because words aren't enough anymore," Thalia replied, her voice low but firm as she led them deeper into the forge."You need to see it.To understand what we've created."
Behind her, Brynn scoffed quietly.The sound carried across the cavernous space despite her attempt at discretion."Created without permission, you mean.With prisoners who should still be in their cells."
Thalia didn't slow her pace or turn to look at Brynn.She'd expected resistance, especially from those like Brynn who had been raised in privilege, taught from birth to value order and hierarchy.When Thalia had convened the allies she had at Frostforge in secrecy, in one of the common rooms at midnight, she had hesitated before sending word of the meeting to Brynn, but had ultimately decided to do it.Brynn was abrasive, a force of personality, and had never seen eye-to-eye with Thalia—but she was also a fierce fighter, skilled beyond any of her peers, and willing to break the rules for the sake of victory.
"If waiting for permission is your priority,” Thalia murmured, “feel free to return to your quarters.The Deep Ones won't wait for the Council's approval before they consume us all."
Brynn let out a quiet huff, but kept pace with the group; Thalia hid her smile.Brynn would be a contrarian every step of the way, but she would never turn her back on this small, burgeoning alliance.
Luna moved ahead, navigating through the darkened forge with the fluid grace that always made her appear more substance than shadow."We agreed to fight for humanity, not for Frostforge," she reminded them, her voice barely audible above the perpetual growl of the central furnace."All of us.At the end of the last meeting.The instructors’ dictates don’t matter.All that matters is survival, peace, and whatever it takes to achieve it."
Rasmus grunted in agreement, his Northern accent thickening in the chill air."I’m not convinced about working with Wardens.But I’m here."
Thalia led them to the secluded workbench where she, Naj, and Kaine had labored in secret.The space looked ordinary at first glance—tools arranged with care, scraps of metal in neat piles, the surface wiped clean of evidence.But to her eyes, trained by years at the forge, the subtle signs of their work remained.A discoloration on the stone floor where electrical discharge had scorched the rock.A faint, lingering scent of ozone beneath the usual smoke and metal.
"What exactly are we looking at?"Daniel asked, his tall frame bent forward in curiosity as he examined the empty workbench.The purple bruise around his eye from the mess hall brawl had faded to a sickly yellow, but the wariness in his gaze remained sharp and clear.
