Page 15 of Frostforge: Passage Two

Some people would only ever see what they wanted to see.And what they saw when they looked at Roran was the enemy, no matter how false that vision might be.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Thalia tucked a wayward strand of black hair behind her ear as she hurried along the frost-slick path toward the Howling Forge.Two days had passed since she'd animated the golem heart, and the whispers had only intensified — sideways glances from Northern students, hushed conversations that stopped when she entered the dining hall.She kept her eyes forward, one hand clutching her satchel of tools, the other tracing the outline of her father's compass through the fabric of her pocket.The familiar weight steadied her as the massive iron doors of the forge loomed ahead, steam billowing from the ventilation shafts and dissipating into the crisp morning air.

Her steps faltered as a familiar figure rounded the corner ahead.Senna walked the path directly toward her, head high, silver-gray eyes usually so piercing they seemed to cut through whatever they focused on.Thalia's shoulders tensed automatically, her chin lifting in the subtle defiance she'd cultivated over weeks of hostile encounters.Her mind raced through possible reactions — sidestep the confrontation entirely?Stand her ground?Prepare a retort for whatever cutting remark Senna might fling her way?

But Senna did none of the things Thalia expected.She didn't slow her pace to deliver a calculated insult.Didn't curl her lip in that familiar sneer of disgust.Didn't even properly look at Thalia.Instead, she continued forward with steady, purposeful strides, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond Thalia's shoulder.When they passed — close enough that Thalia caught the scent of pine and metal that always clung to the Northern girl — Senna's shoulder barely brushed against hers.No acknowledgment.Not even a flicker of recognition.

Thalia stopped, turning to watch Senna's retreating form.The second-year student moved with uncharacteristic urgency, her normally perfect posture just slightly off, her braided black hair swinging with each determined step.Senna's hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles white with tension.

"What in all the hells?"Thalia murmured to herself.

This wasn't normal.Not even close.Senna Drake never passed up an opportunity to remind Thalia of her supposed inferiority.Never failed to make some cutting remark about Southern weakness or drop some veiled threat wrapped in false pleasantry.Her fixation on Thalia — and on Kaine Ember — was as predictable as the bitter cold that swept down from Frostforge's peaks each evening.

Luna's words from the assembly echoed in Thalia's mind: "She's up to something.I just need to figure out what."At the time, Thalia had been distracted by too many other concerns to give Luna's suspicions much weight.But now…

Thalia watched until Senna disappeared around a corner, heading not toward the main academy buildings but toward the eastern training grounds.Whatever occupied Senna's thoughts so completely that she'd ignore her favorite target — it had to be significant.And potentially dangerous.

With one last glance in the direction Senna had gone, Thalia turned back toward the forge.She needed to find Luna later, compare notes.But first, there was work to be done.Skills to master.And, if she was honest with herself, a certain brooding metalworker to see.

The heavy iron doors of the Howling Forge groaned as Thalia pushed them open, the rush of heat immediately enveloping her like an embrace.She stepped inside, letting the familiar sensations wash over her — the orange glow of multiple furnaces, the rhythmic percussion of hammers striking metal, the pungent mix of coal smoke and quenching oil.Usually, these sensations calmed her racing thoughts, grounded her in the physical world of making rather than the uncertain terrain of academy politics.

But today, something felt off.

The rhythm was wrong.The usual symphony of metalwork sounded discordant, disjointed.Several stations sat empty, their fires banked.And the usual shouts of instruction or camaraderie were replaced by hushed, urgent conversations happening in tight clusters around the vast space.

Thalia scanned the room for Kaine, finding him near his usual workstation in the far corner.Even from a distance, she could tell something was wrong.His broad-shouldered frame was rigid with tension, his hands — usually so steady and precise — clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides as he spoke with two other Northern students.When he turned slightly, she caught a glimpse of his face — jaw tight, blue eyes flashing with something that looked dangerously close to rage.

She navigated through the forge, sidestepping worktables and cooling racks until she reached him.The other students dispersed as she approached, their expressions grim.

"Kaine?"she ventured, setting her satchel down on a nearby bench."What's happened?"

He didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on his workstation.The table where his shield — the one with the intricate hovering mechanism he'd been so proud to show her — should have been sitting was conspicuously empty.Only his tools remained, meticulously arranged as always, a stark contrast to the chaos of his expression.

"It's gone," he finally said, his voice low and controlled in a way that suggested he was working hard to keep it that way."The shield.Gone."

Thalia blinked, not comprehending at first."Gone?You mean you moved it to storage, or —"

"Stolen."The word came out like a blade being unsheathed."Not just mine.Six other pieces.All advanced work, all nearly complete."He gestured toward several other empty stations around the forge.

"Someone broke in?"Thalia asked, looking around for signs of forced entry, her mind racing to make sense of it.

Kaine shook his head, running a hand through his cropped dark hair in a rare display of agitation."No.No damage to the locks or wards.Nothing disturbed except the missing pieces."

"When did you notice?"she asked, stepping closer to examine the empty workstation.

"This morning.I came in early to test the hovering enchantment."His expression darkened further."I’d just worked the magic into it.Never got to see if my calculations would hold under combat conditions."

She studied his face, noting something beyond anger in his features.There was frustration there, yes, and fury.But also something that looked almost like grief.And suddenly, she understood.For Kaine, this wasn't just about a missing shield.It was about his craft — the one thing that had given him purpose during his years in prison, the skill that had earned him a place at Frostforge instead of a lifetime sentence.

"The shield was special," she said softly.Not a question.

His ice-blue eyes met hers, surprise flashing briefly across his features before his expression shuttered again."I'd been working on the design for weeks.The hovering mechanism was...unique."His hands unclenched slightly, fingers flexing as if he could still feel the metal under them."It would have worked.I know it would have."

The admission cost him something; she could see it in the tight set of his shoulders.Kaine didn't share his hopes or plans easily.Prison had taught him to keep such vulnerabilities hidden, a lesson Thalia understood all too well from her own hard upbringing in Verdant Port's poorest district.

"Who knew about your design?"she asked, her mind shifting from sympathy to strategy.

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