Page 52 of Frostforge, Passage Six
"They were looking for people with your ability, Thalia."Kaine's words landed like stones in still water, ripples of implication spreading outward."People with natural attunement—the current-sensing ability you use in metallurgy and herbcraft."
"My ability?"Confusion furrowed her brow."But why would they—"
"Because they know about the Founders' Price," Kaine continued, stepping closer."At least partially.They know Frostforge is more than just an academy—that it was built with ancient magic as a defense system against something the founders called 'the threat from the sea.'And they believe that people with your bloodline—those with natural attunement—can activate those defenses against the Deep Ones."
Thalia's mind reeled, struggling to absorb the implications."That's impossible," she stammered."I don't come from some special bloodline.I'm just a slumdweller from Verdant Port.My parents were ordinary people—my mother runs an herb shop.She doesn’t have any magical talents."
Kaine nodded."I know.I asked your mother about it while you were gone.Neither she nor your father possessed this ability."
"Then it can't be hereditary at all," she countered, the logic seeming obvious to her."It must develop randomly, or through some other means."
"Or it skipped generations," Kaine suggested."Or it comes from a lineage your parents weren't aware of.The documents are very specific about this—the ability to sense magical currents naturally, without training, is incredibly rare and runs in specific bloodlines.If you ask me, the Wardens believe these bloodlines are key to activating Frostforge's deeper defenses."
The implications crashed against her consciousness like waves against rock, each realization eroding her certainty about who she was, about her place in this unfolding catastrophe.If what Kaine said was true—if she carried some ancestral connection to Frostforge's founding magic—then everything about her journey here took on new meaning.
Her success with metallurgy despite her Southern origins.She has the ability to sense currents in metals and herbs alike.Even Maven's obsession with her during that terrible night beneath the Howling Forge, when the traitorous instructor had tried to spill her blood in the Founders' chamber.
"The Deep Ones," Kaine pressed, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts."You said they consume islands.How?What exactly did you witness?"
Thalia swallowed hard, forcing herself to confront memories she'd have preferred to bury."They rise from the depths, preceded by unnatural storms—lightning the wrong color, darkness that seems alive rather than mere absence of light.The water turns black, glossy, wrong."Her voice dropped to a whisper."Then tentacles emerge—massive beyond comprehension, dark as the void between stars.They wrap around whatever they target—ships, structures, entire landmasses—and pull them below.Nothing remains afterward.Not debris, not bodies, nothing.I watched that thing—or things, I couldn't tell if it was one or many—destroy the schooner.There was nothing left of it, and it took only an instant."
A silence fell between them, heavy with the weight of revelation.Kaine's expression had grown grave, the implications of her words sinking in.
"If Frostforge was built to withstand an ancient attack from these entities," he said finally, "then they're not just a threat to the archipelago.They're a threat to the entire continent."
"Yes," Thalia agreed, the single word carrying the terrible certainty she'd carried since watching Cassia sacrifice herself to the darkness."The Isle Wardens are facing the immediate danger.But if these things continue to grow more active, more hungry..."
She didn't need to finish the thought.The conclusion hung in the air between them, inescapable as gravity.The war between mainlanders and Wardens—the conflict that had defined coastal life for generations, that had shaped Frostforge's very purpose—had been a distraction from the true threat.While humans fought each other over territory and resources, ancient horrors stirred in the deep, preparing to devour them all.
"We need to make Wolfe understand," Thalia said, renewed determination straightening her spine."The refugees aren't the enemy—they're the warning we should have heeded decades ago.And if Frostforge truly was built as a defense against the Deep Ones, the continent isn’t safe either.We need to learn how to activate that defense before it's too late."
The distant echo of guards' boots on stone reached them—a reminder that time continued its march, that the world beyond these walls faced threats it didn't yet comprehend.Thalia met Kaine's gaze across the small space that separated them, the final pieces falling into place.
"We need to warn them," she said, certainty hardening her voice."All of them.Wolfe, the instructors, and everyone.The Deep Ones are coming, and when they do, they'll bring a darkness that swallows us all."
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Metal scraped against metal, the sound cutting through Thalia's restless sleep like a blade.She opened her eyes to darkness broken only by a sliver of torchlight bleeding through the narrow window of her cell door.Three days—or was it four?—in this stone tomb had blurred time into a meaningless smear.
The boots in the corridor grew louder, deliberate and measured, the sound of authority approaching with purpose.Keys jangled, a counterpoint to the steady rhythm of footsteps, then the distinctive clang of her lock being turned.Thalia pushed herself upright on the hard cot, ignoring the protest of stiff muscles and joints chilled to the marrow.
"On your feet, Greenspire."The voice was gruff, unfamiliar, belonging to a guard she hadn't seen before—a bulky man with a neck like a bull's and small, distrustful eyes.
Thalia complied, her legs trembling beneath her as blood rushed to extremities gone numb from the cold.The stone floor leached warmth from her bare feet, a final punishment from her cell before departure.She suppressed a wince as pins and needles shot through her calves, refusing to show weakness.
The second guard stepped into view, and Thalia's breath caught—Rasmus.The Northern recruit who had once been under her command, who had grown from reluctant subordinate to trusted ally during their time at Frostforge.
His face remained impassive, professional, but when the bull-necked guard turned to secure the cell door, Rasmus gave her a slight nod, almost imperceptible—a small gesture that sent warmth spreading through her chest.She wasn't entirely alone.
"Move," the first guard ordered, gesturing down the corridor with a dismissive flick of his hand.
Thalia stepped forward, her strides stiff and awkward at first, dignity warring with physical discomfort.The prison wing lay deep beneath Frostforge's main structure, carved into the mountain's roots where sunlight never penetrated and the perpetual chill of stone never abated.As they ascended, the air gradually warmed, torches appearing more frequently along the walls, casting jumping shadows that danced in rhythm with their footsteps.
They passed through corridors Thalia had traveled countless times during her years at the academy—as a student hurrying to classes, as a graduate strutting with newfound confidence, as a soldier returning from missions.Now she walked these same halls as a prisoner, a failed graduate, her status stripped away like bark from a storm-lashed tree.
Students and instructors who passed in the corridors stared openly, conversations faltering into silence as she approached, then resuming in urgent whispers after she passed.She kept her chin high, her gaze forward, refusing to shrink beneath their scrutiny.
The guards led her upward through the academy's levels, past the training halls and armories, toward the upper chambers where Frostforge's leadership conducted their business.When they stopped before a heavy oak door reinforced with ice-steel bands, Thalia's heart quickened.
