CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kaine's boots echoed against the weathered stone of Frostforge's command chamber, the sound sharp in the tense silence that had fallen after Instructor Marr unfurled the latest reconnaissance reports.
Maps of the fjord and surrounding coastline covered the massive oak table, each marked with inky lines that tracked the Deep Tide's inexorable advance toward the academy.Three weeks ago, those marks had been miles away.Now, they crept closer by the day, the black waters consuming more land with each passing hour.
Kaine studied the most recent notations, his jaw tightening at what they revealed—the steady, methodical approach of extinction.
"Our scouts report the tide has breached the outer markers," Marr said, his weathered face grim in the lamplight.The former admiral's voice carried the weight of a man who had spent decades commanding fleets against enemies he could see and understand.This enemy—this darkness that consumed all it touched—had stripped away even that small comfort."We need fresh intelligence.Accurate measurements.The council requires precise data to estimate when we'll need to execute our final defensive measures."
Kaine nodded, understanding what remained unspoken.Final defensive measures.A euphemism for last stands and desperate gambles.For the possibility that Frostforge might fall as so many other strongholds had already fallen.
"I'll go," he said, the words emerging without hesitation.Better to face the darkness head-on than wait for it to reach their gates.Better to act than to dwell on the visions still haunting Thalia, the knowledge slipping from her grasp day by day."I can leave within the hour."
Marr studied him, the scars across his face shifting as he frowned."Take a small team.Experienced fighters only.No heroics, Ember.This is reconnaissance, not an attack.We need your eyes, not your courage."
"Understood."Kaine's mind was already sorting through potential companions, weighing skills against temperament, experience against adaptability."I'll take four, including myself.Small enough to move quickly, large enough to defend if necessary."
Marr nodded once, the gesture carrying all the weight of formal dismissal."Report directly to me upon your return.The council will convene immediately to assess your findings."
Kaine left the command chamber with purpose in his stride, the names of his chosen companions already settled in his mind.Jorik would come—his brother's experience with the hybrid magical techniques might prove invaluable if they encountered Deep Ones.And from Jorik's group, the young storm-caller, Lyra, whose lightning had proven effective against the darkness.Finally, Erek, the Northern deserter whose cryomancy skills would complement their offensive capabilities.
He found them in the western courtyard, where many of the refugees had taken to gathering during daylight hours, seeking what pale sunlight penetrated the perpetual cloud cover that now shrouded Frostforge.Jorik sat on a low stone wall, sharpening a dagger with practiced, economical movements.The repetitive scrape of stone against steel ceased as Kaine approached, his brother looking up with that still-unfamiliar maturity in his eyes.
"Marr's sending me to track the tide's advance," Kaine said without preamble."I'd like you to come.Lyra and Erek too, if they're willing."
Jorik's lips curved into a smile that held more anticipation than fear."Willing?We've been cooped up behind these walls for days.Even scouting the apocalypse sounds like a welcome change."He slid the dagger into its sheath with a smooth motion."When do we leave?"
"As soon as we can gather supplies and horses."Kaine felt a flutter of something warm in his chest, a simple gratitude for his brother's unhesitating support that he wasn't quite ready to examine closely."It'll be a half-day's ride at most.We need accurate measurements of the tide's position, both in the fjord and where it's encroached on land."
"I'll find Lyra and Erek," Jorik said, rising to his feet with fluid grace."Meet you at the stables in twenty minutes."
The preparations moved swiftly after that, each member of the small expedition gathering what they might need with the efficiency of those accustomed to moving at a moment's notice.Kaine selected weapons with care—his ice-storm hammer, forged in collaboration with Naj and other Warden storm-callers, had proven effective against the Deep Ones in previous encounters.He strapped it across his back, its weight both burden and reassurance.
When they assembled at the stables, Kaine found four mountain ponies already saddled and waiting.The sturdy beasts were well-suited to the treacherous terrain they would navigate, their thick coats still winter-heavy despite the advancing season.Lyra approached her mount with the wary respect of someone who had spent more time on ships than horseback, while Erek checked his mount's tack with the methodical care of a former cavalry soldier.
"The tide will have changed since the last measurements," Jorik said as they rode through Frostforge's massive gates, the ancient stone arch seeming to diminish with each passing day as portions crumbled, never fully repaired after the last attack."How far do you think it's advanced?"
Kaine's gaze fixed on the distant horizon, where the fjord's waters shimmered beneath the cloud-muted sun."Further than we'd like to believe," he answered, the honesty bitter on his tongue."But that's why we're going.To know, not to guess."
They rode in silence for a time, the only sounds the steady clip of hooves against frozen ground and the occasional jingle of tack.Lyra and Erek had fallen slightly behind, giving the brothers a measure of privacy that seemed almost deliberate.Kaine glanced sideways at Jorik, studying the profile that was both familiar and foreign—the same strong jaw that Kaine saw in his own reflection, but now weathered by years and choices Kaine had missed.
"I've been meaning to ask," he said finally, the words emerging softer than he'd intended."About Mother.Is she—" He couldn't finish, the possibility too painful to voice.
"Alive," Jorik supplied, understanding immediately."Still in North Hollows.Still making those terrible spiced buns that no one has the heart to tell her are inedible."A ghost of a smile crossed his features."I haven't seen her since I left the military.It wasn't safe.Still isn't.Deserters face the noose in the Northern Reaches, especially those who fled during active conflict."
Relief washed through Kaine, so potent it left him momentarily dizzy.He'd assumed the worst, as he always did—that their mother had succumbed to grief or hardship in the years since he'd left home.To know she lived, that she continued making those awful buns his father had always praised out of some twisted need to control even her baking, was a gift he hadn't expected.
"I hope someday you can go back," Kaine said, his voice rough with emotion he rarely permitted himself to show."That you'll see her again."
Jorik looked at him, surprise etched across his features."You too," he said, the words simple but laden with meaning."If we survive this.When we survive this," he corrected himself."You could come home."
Home.The word struck Kaine like a physical blow.In all the years since his imprisonment, since his transfer to Frostforge, he had never allowed himself to consider the possibility of return.Of seeing his mother again, of walking the streets of North Hollows not as a condemned man but as a son come home.The prospect was both terrifying and achingly sweet.
"I—" he began, then faltered, overwhelmed by possibilities he had never permitted himself to consider."There's something I need to say first.Something long overdue."He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry despite the cold, damp air."I'm sorry, Jorik.For what I did.For tearing our family apart."
His brother's head snapped toward him, genuine shock written across his face."What?"
"Father," Kaine clarified, though they both knew what he meant.The words emerged jagged, as though torn from somewhere deep within."I know you might not be able to forgive me, but I—"
