"Impossible," the young man whispered, shock rendering him momentarily immobile."You're using cryomancy.No stormspawn could—"
"I was trained at Frostforge," Roran said, advancing."Just like you."
The revelation staggered both soldiers, their worldview visibly crumbling as they confronted something that couldn't exist within their understanding: an Isle Warden—a stormcaller—wielding ice.
Roran seized the moment of confusion, driving his shoulder into the younger soldier's midsection and sending him crashing into the table.The sergeant had recovered enough to reach for his sword, but Roran was already moving, kicking the man's legs from beneath him and making for the door.
He burst into the open air, cold morning light momentarily blinding him after the cabin's dimness.The forest stretched before him, pine trees standing sentinel in all directions, their trunks creating a natural maze of shadow and cover.Behind him, shouts erupted as the soldiers regained their composure and gave chase.
Roran plunged into the trees, his boots crunching through a thin layer of frost as he wove between trunks and leapt over fallen logs.His body protested every movement, muscles burning with fatigue, the brief exertion of magic leaving him dizzy and gasping.But fear and necessity drove him onward—fear of capture, necessity of reaching Frostforge with what he now knew.
He had been deployed by the War Council, but this entire time, he had only thought only of returning to Thalia, reporting to her burgeoning, underground alliance within Frostforge’s walls.The instructors clearly thought of Thalia as nothing more than a nuisance; she was, in their eyes, fortunate to be permitted her role as a custodian of the fortress.But Roran knew the truth.If Frostforge survived what was to come, it would only be because of Thalia’s efforts.Thalia’s strategy.The War Council were out of their depth, blinded by their own biases; it was Thalia and the others who could truly find a way to fight back.But only if he could reach them, could warn them about what they were going to face.
Voices called through the trees behind him, growing more distant as he put space between himself and his pursuers.The soldiers knew these woods better than he did, but they would be cautious now—wary of his demonstrated abilities, uncertain what other secrets he might hold.
Roran slowed as a stitch in his side threatened to double him over, pressing himself against a massive pine trunk and listening for pursuit.Nothing close.He allowed himself thirty seconds of rest, gulping air into burning lungs, before continuing at a more sustainable pace.
The sun had risen high enough to pierce the canopy in places, casting dappled light across the forest floor.Roran oriented himself by its position, turning south and slightly west—toward Frostforge, toward home.The journey would be dangerous.The Northern Reaches were hostile territory for a suspected Warden at the best of times, and these were the worst of times, with fear and paranoia spreading as quickly as the Deep Tide itself.
But he had no choice.The information he carried was too important to be lost, the alliance Thalia sought too crucial to humanity's survival.He would find his way back.He would do whatever it took to return to her side, even if he had to fight his way through every Northern patrol between here and the academy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thalia swept the stone floor with brisk, efficient strokes, the broom's bristles scraping against ancient granite worn smooth by countless feet.Sweat dampened her back despite the chill that permeated Frostforge's upper corridors.Her muscles ached from the day's labor—scouring cookpots, scrubbing tables, tasks meant to humble her into submission—but her mind raced far from these menial duties, dwelling instead on the secret forge hidden deep within the mountain's heart, where hope was being hammered into steel one blade at a time.
"Finished yet, Southern girl?"The guard's voice grated against her ears, heavy with Northern disdain.He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a living reminder of her fallen status.
"Nearly."Thalia kept her tone neutral, her eyes on the floor.The last thing she needed was another reprimand for insubordination.Every minute wasted in punishment was a minute lost in the forge below.
She gathered the last pile of dust into a corner, then straightened, massaging her lower back with one hand while returning the broom to its hook with the other.The guard gave her a cursory nod and departed, his footsteps fading down the corridor.Thalia counted to thirty before slipping out after him, taking the opposite turn at the junction and descending toward the lower levels.
The air grew warmer as she spiraled downward, the stone walls transitioning from polished granite to rougher-hewn rock.Most of Frostforge's occupants avoided these deeper passages—too close to the mines, too far from daylight.Perfect for those with secrets to keep.
Thalia navigated the labyrinth with practiced ease, dodging around corners whenever footsteps approached, ducking into alcoves when voices echoed through the stone corridors.Her route took her past the main Howling Forge, where apprentices and masters alike hammered conventional weapons with growing urgency.The metallic symphony faded behind her as she slipped into a narrow service tunnel, its entrance partially concealed by a stack of empty ore carts.
The tunnel opened into a natural cavern that her small band of allies had transformed into their sanctuary.Heat from a makeshift forge warmed the space, softening the perpetual chill of the mountain's depths.Weapons racks lined one wall, each holding blades that glinted with an otherworldly blue-white light, threads of electric energy pulsing through the metal like living veins.
Naj and the two other Wardens—Rissa with her tattooed arms and Darek with his weathered face—sat huddled around a small fire, sharing what appeared to be a loaf of dark bread and dried meat.Their heads turned in unison as she entered, wariness giving way to recognition.
"You're late," Naj observed, breaking off a portion of bread and extending it toward her."Trouble above?"
Thalia shook her head, accepting the offering with grateful hands."Just the usual.More floors to scrub than there are hours to scrub them."She tore into the bread, suddenly aware of how hungry she was."Have you eaten enough?I could try to bring more tomorrow."
Rissa gave a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes."We've managed with less during storm seasons."Her fingers absently traced the intricate tattoos that spiraled up her forearms.
"Any word of Thrum'kith?"Darek asked, his voice carrying the distinctive cadence of the archipelago's eastern islands."Is she well?Has she been fed?"
Thalia grimaced.In the desperate rush of forging weapons and avoiding detection, she'd neglected to check on the fortress-whale—the majestic living vessel that had carried these people from their doomed islands to what should have been sanctuary.
"I—" She faltered, shame heating her cheeks."I haven't been down to the fjord in some time."
Naj's weathered face tightened, disappointment evident in the set of his mouth."She suffers, bound as she is.Separated from those who understand her needs."He set aside his portion of bread, appetite apparently forgotten."When the black waters reach the fjord, what defense will she have?Alone, tethered to your docks like a beast of burden rather than the sacred vessel she is."
The realization hit Thalia with unexpected force.While she had focused on forging weapons to defend Frostforge itself, the Wardens' concerns stretched beyond the academy's walls to encompass their living ship—a creature they clearly regarded with reverence bordering on familial devotion.
"I'm sorry," she said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left her lips."I should have—"
The sound of approaching footsteps cut her short.She tensed, hand dropping to the blade at her hip, but relaxed as Kaine and Luna emerged from the tunnel's mouth.Kaine carried a bundle of tanned leather strips, while Luna balanced a stack of wooden cores—materials for weapon handles.
