Thalia leaned forward, the wooden stool creaking beneath her."The Deep Tide is gathering for another assault on Frostforge," she said, her voice low and urgent."A massive Deep One approaches—larger than any we've encountered before.If it breaches our defenses, the last sanctuary on the continent will fall."She took a deep breath, steadying herself."I believe the only way to stop it is to blend magical traditions, just as the Founders did.But for that, I need to learn to root-sing properly.To use that power to its full potential."
Tamsin was silent for a long moment, his weathered hands motionless among the scattered seeds.When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of decision."What you ask is not simple, child.Root-singing cannot be learned in days or weeks.My grandmother trained for years before she mastered even the basic forms."
"We don't have years," Thalia said, unable to keep the desperation from her voice."We barely have days."
"No," he agreed, "we don't.Which means what I can teach you will be incomplete.Dangerous, even."His cloudy eyes fixed on her with unexpected sharpness."Power without proper control is like a river without banks—it can nourish or destroy without discrimination."
"I understand the risk," she said firmly."But doing nothing guarantees destruction."
A smile ghosted across Tamsin's lips."You remind me of my grandmother.She too faced impossible choices with that same steel in her voice."He nodded once, decisively."I will teach you what I can, in the time we have."
Relief flooded through Thalia, so powerful that for a moment she feared she might weep."Thank you," she managed, her voice steadier than she felt."When can we begin?"
"Now is as good a time as any."Tamsin gestured to the seeds before him."These moonberry seeds contain currents that spiral in distinctive patterns.They will serve as your first lesson."His expression softened."And perhaps, if we survive what's coming, you might help teach Niko when he's of age.I would rest easier knowing the knowledge wouldn't die with me."
"I promise," Thalia said without hesitation."If we survive, I'll train him myself."
The words left her mouth before she fully confronted the implications hidden within them.If we survive.But even as she spoke, memories from her vision surfaced with new clarity—the three Founders collapsing as one, their bodies going limp as the magic overwhelmed them.The seal had been created through willing sacrifice, through a price knowingly paid.They had understood the cost and accepted it willingly.
And now she understood with cold, rational clarity what she had only glimpsed in the heat of battle during the last assault—if she channeled the combined power of three magical traditions to create a new seal against the Deep Ones, she would almost certainly not survive the process.Unlike her impulsive decision to sacrifice herself in the Founders' chamber, this was a choice made with full awareness, with time to contemplate all she would lose.
Mari's face flashed in her mind—her sister, finally reunited with her after years of separation.Her mother, who had already endured so much loss.Roran, with his storm-bright eyes and unwavering faith in her.Kaine, whose quiet strength had been her anchor through the darkest moments at Frostforge.
She would lose them all.Or rather, they would lose her.
But the alternative was unthinkable.If the Deep Tide overwhelmed Frostforge, none would survive—not her family, not her friends, not the thousands of refugees who had sought sanctuary within these ancient walls.The Deep Ones would continue their inexorable advance until all of humanity was unmade by that lightless tide.
Tamsin's weathered hand closed over hers, pulling her from her grim thoughts."I see the shadows crossing your face, child," he said softly."The path of power is rarely without sacrifice."
"I know," Thalia replied, meeting his clouded gaze with steady resolve."But some paths must be walked regardless of their end."
She would learn what Tamsin could teach her.She would master root-singing as best she could in the limited time available.And when the moment came to stand against the darkness, she would do whatever was necessary to ensure that those she loved might survive, even if she did not.
It was, after all, a price willingly paid.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Thalia's legs burned with each step of the winding staircase, her body still weak from days spent comatose while her mind wandered ancient memories.The torch-lit passage to the Crystalline Plateau stretched before her, seemingly endless in her diminished state, but she refused to slow her pace or reach for the wall to steady herself.
Knowledge was slipping from her grasp with each passing hour—fragments of visions fading like morning frost under a relentless sun—and she couldn't afford to waste a single moment, not with the black waters advancing toward Frostforge's walls once more.
"You know, there's no prize for collapsing from exhaustion," Roran said from behind her, his voice carrying that familiar blend of concern and wry humor that had become as essential to her as air."The Plateau's not going anywhere."
Thalia didn't turn, but a smile tugged at her lips despite the strain in her calves."Unfortunately, I think that’s not quite true.”
“Oh, right.I almost forgot the world was ending for a second there.”
A laugh escaped her, small but genuine—the first in what felt like ages.She paused at a landing to catch her breath, finally turning to face him.Roran stood two steps below, the blue-flame torches casting dancing shadows across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and softening the dark circles beneath his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights by her bedside.
"Maybe I missed the stairs," she offered, drinking in the sight of him."After days of horizontal living, even this torture is a welcome change."
His expression softened, the worry that had etched itself into his face these past days momentarily retreating.The torchlight played across his brown skin, making him look as though he was underwater, catching in the wild curls of his hair where they had escaped his hasty attempt to tie them back.Something warm unfurled in Thalia's chest, something separate from the ache of overtaxed muscles and lingering weakness.
"Tell me more about this root-singing," he said as they resumed their climb."You've always had this ability to sense currents in metal, in plants—is that what it is?"
Thalia nodded, grateful for the question.Speaking of root-singing felt like grasping at the fraying edges of her visions, pulling them back into focus before they could slip away entirely.
"It's more than that," she said, measuring her breaths against their steady ascent."What I've been doing—what I've always done—is just the beginning.Sensing the currents, yes, but not directing them.Not shaping them."She gestured with her free hand, trying to capture concepts that felt too vast for words."In my visions, I saw root-singers creating patterns with those currents, weaving them into new forms.They could encourage growth, heal damage, strengthen what was weak."
