Thalia followed Kaine and Ashe to the entrance, where five shaggy mountain ponies were being readied for the treacherous descent to the fjord below.Senna directed the preparations, her sharp features set in their usual stern lines, silver-gray eyes cold as the surrounding peaks.
"A merchant ship?"Kaine's brow furrowed."That's not unusual enough to warrant this level of response."
Senna turned at his voice, her expression shifting minutely at the sight of him—something Thalia might have missed if she hadn't been watching closely.Despite everything, the complicated history between Kaine and Senna remained a tangible thing, a current that seemed to charge the air whenever they occupied the same space.
"The ship is off-schedule," Senna replied, her tone clipped and professional despite whatever personal feelings might lie beneath."And it bears signs of severe damage—torn mainsail, breached hull.It's taking on water in the harbor.By all accounts, it's a miracle the vessel made it to our docks at all."
"Something attacked it?"Ashe asked, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her sword.
Senna nodded curtly."Most likely Isle Wardens.They've grown bolder since we imprisoned their kin."
The dismissive certainty in Senna's voice pricked at Thalia's patience."Did the damage include burn marks?"she asked."Lightning strikes?"
Senna's silver eyes narrowed."What?"
"The damage," Thalia repeated, holding Senna's gaze despite the difference in their status."Were there signs of fire or lightning?Isle Warden attacks typically involve storm magic."
"I wouldn't know," Senna replied coldly."I haven't seen the vessel myself."Her lips curved into a humorless smile."If you're so curious, Greenspire, you can make yourself useful and help bridle one of the horses.See the damage for yourself."
Thalia glanced at Kaine and Ashe.The War Council meeting would proceed without her regardless—and this ship, whatever had attacked it, might provide the evidence she needed to finally convince the instructors of the true threat they faced.
"Go," Kaine said quietly."You might learn more at the harbor than you would waiting outside a closed door."
Thalia nodded, decision made.She moved toward the waiting ponies, taking the rope halter of a shaggy chestnut from a soldier who seemed relieved to be freed for other duties.As she coaxed the bit between the animal's reluctant teeth, a sense of foreboding settled over her like a physical weight.
There were no good outcomes here.Either the ship had been attacked by Isle Wardens—further cementing the academy's hatred toward the very prisoners Thalia needed to see freed—or the vessel had encountered something far worse.The Deep Ones, extending their reach to the Northern coast for the first time.
Either way, the darkness was closing in, and time was running out.
***
Snow and sleet whipped across Thalia's face, the frozen needles finding every gap in her collar despite the heavy wool scarf wound tight around her neck.She led the chestnut pony down the narrow switchbacks that connected Frostforge to its harbor, each step requiring careful consideration on the ice-slicked stone.
The path—treacherous even in fair weather—had become a gauntlet of hidden ice patches and sudden gusts that threatened to sweep both her and the reluctant animal over the edge.Behind her, Senna's squadron followed in grim silence, their breath forming spectral clouds that the wind tore away almost before they formed.
The weather had turned suddenly, viciously, as they crested the first ridge—a reminder of the Rimspires' fickle nature, where clear skies could surrender to blinding squalls within moments.Thalia's fingers, though protected by leather gloves lined with rabbit fur, had long since gone numb around the coarse leather of the reins.Each tug on the stubborn pony sent shards of pain through her frozen joints.
The pony snorted, its breath crystallizing instantly in the frigid air, ears flattened against the stinging snow.It balked at a particularly steep descent, hooves scrambling for purchase on treacherous stone.
"Come on," Thalia murmured, the words stolen by the howling wind.She tightened her grip on the reins, leaning her weight backward to provide counterbalance."Not much farther."
Through the swirling white, the harbor torches flickered below—smudges of amber light dancing against an inky backdrop of violent sea.The metallic tang of brine grew stronger with each downward step, mingling with the sharper scent of approaching storm.Something else lingered beneath these familiar smells—something wrong, something out of place.A subtle corruption that prickled along Thalia's senses, raising the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.
The convoy emerged from the last bend in the path onto the relative shelter of the docks.Here, massive cliffs provided some respite from the direct assault of the gale, though the wind still howled around them, whipping the black waters of the fjord into churning peaks.The damaged vessel lay moored at the farthest pier, listing heavily to starboard where water had breached its hull.
Even from this distance, Thalia could see the extent of the damage—the figurehead cracked nearly in two, the mainsail hanging in tatters from its broken spar.The hull, once painted in bright Northern blues and whites, was now streaked with salt and something darker, something that made her stomach clench with recognition.
"Secure the animals," Senna ordered, her voice cutting through the wind as she strode toward the waiting ship."You—help them disembark.You—check the hold for supplies."Her commands sent soldiers scattering to their tasks, leaving Thalia with the ponies at the edge of the pier.
Thalia looped the chestnut's reins around a weathered post.With the animal secure, she edged closer to the damaged vessel, eyes narrowed against the sleet as she studied its wounds.
The damage pattern wasn't consistent with any Isle Warden attack she'd witnessed or studied.No charring from lightning strikes, no melted metal from concentrated storm magic.Instead, the wood appeared...dissolved, as though something had eaten through the solid oak planking, leaving ragged edges that reminded her of acid burns or caustic lye—but on a scale that no mundane chemical could achieve.
Her breath caught as her suspicions crystallized into certainty.
The first survivors were being helped onto the dock now—sailors and merchants with hollow eyes and trembling hands.Most moved in shocked silence, allowing themselves to be guided toward the waiting ponies.But one man, his salt-and-pepper beard crusted with ice, broke away from his escorts, his voice rising in a frantic pitch that cut through the howl of the wind.
"—couldn't stop them!"he was shouting, gesturing wildly back toward the open sea."The water turned black as pitch, like it was drinking the light itself!And then the shadows—the shadows reached up and—"
