Page 55 of Frostforge, Passage Six
She hadn’t been able to visit them upon her return to the keep; her imprisonment had prevented it.Now, though, she was free to seek them out.
Thalia's demotion to service duties stung her pride, but it was the least of her concerns now.Every minute spent polishing metal that was already gleaming was a minute wasted, a precious second ticking away while the Deep Ones advanced.She flexed her cramped fingers and quickened her pace toward the former lecture hall that had been repurposed as refugee quarters.
Frostforge hadn’t been built to house refugees; it had been built as a school.The chambers that were now packed from wall-to-wall with cots had been converted from lecture halls and classrooms.According to Kaine, her mother and sister were being housed in the auditorium that had once been the site of Virek’s cryomancy lectures.
The enormous doorway loomed ahead, flanked by two ice-metal sconces whose flames cast fitful, dancing shadows across the stone.When she pushed open the heavy door, the hall's atmosphere hit her like a physical wall—the mingled scents of too many bodies confined in too little space, the symphony of human sounds amplified by the room's vaulted ceiling.Cots lined the walls in tight rows, each holding at least two people, sometimes more.In the corners, families had created makeshift partitions from blankets and cloaks, desperate attempts at privacy in this communal existence.
Thalia scanned the room, her eyes flicking from face to face until she spotted them—her mother and Mari, huddled together on a single narrow cot against the far wall.Her heart gave a painful twist.They looked so small there, so out of place amid the chaos.
She wove through the crowded room, sidestepping an elderly man whose persistent cough punctuated the ambient noise, avoiding the outstretched legs of children who'd fallen asleep on blankets spread across the floor.A baby wailed somewhere to her right, its thin cry rising above the murmurs and rustles.
"Mother," Thalia said as she reached them, her voice catching in her throat.
Celeste looked up, her face lighting with a mixture of relief and concern.Despite the dark circles beneath her eyes and new lines etched around her mouth, her mother's gaze held the same warmth it always had—steady and unwavering, like the flame of a well-tended hearth.
"Thalia."Celeste stood, pulling her into an embrace that smelled of herbs and home."We were beginning to worry."
"I'm sorry.The duties they've assigned me..."Thalia began, then shook her head.Excuses wouldn't change anything."It doesn't matter.I'm here now."
Mari had been curled on the cot, a book of herbal remedies open beside her—one of the few possessions they'd managed to bring from Verdant Port.At Thalia's arrival, she sprang up, nearly knocking over a small tin cup perched precariously at the edge of the cot.
"You look terrible," Mari said, though her smile belied the bluntness of her words.At seventeen, Mari was still caught between childhood candor and adult diplomacy.
"Thank you for that assessment," Thalia replied dryly, but she returned the smile.
Her sister's face had thinned in the months since they'd last seen each other, baby fat giving way to the defined angles of adulthood.They embraced, and Thalia felt a pang of guilt at how much of Mari's life she'd missed.
"Have they fed you?"Thalia asked, eyeing the meager possessions stacked neatly at the foot of the cot—a small satchel, two threadbare blankets, a change of clothes folded with precise corners.
"Yes," Celeste answered, sitting back down on the cot's edge and patting the space beside her."The food is...unpleasant.But we're not going hungry."
Thalia sat, feeling the thin mattress sink beneath her weight."And they've given you only the one cot?"
Celeste gestured vaguely around the room."There are many mouths to feed, many bodies to shelter.We're fortunate to have this much."
The words were gracious, but Thalia could see the strain in her mother's posture, the tight line of her shoulders.Celeste had always been the dignified one, accepting hardship without complaint.But this—being refugees in a foreign place, dependent on others' charity—this cut against the grain of her pride.
"I understand now," Celeste said after a moment, her voice lowered."Why you were so insistent we leave Verdant Port.The Isle Wardens..."
"It's not just the Wardens," Thalia interrupted, then glanced around to ensure no one was listening too closely.She leaned in, dropping her voice even further."There's something worse coming.From the sea."
Mari's eyes widened, and Celeste's brow furrowed."Worse than the Wardens?What could be worse than what we've already endured?"
Thalia hesitated, weighing how much to reveal.Her mother and sister had already weathered so much—the fall of Verdant Port, the journey north, the adjustment to life as refugees.Could she burden them with the knowledge of the Deep Ones, the threat that made even the Isle Wardens flee in terror?
"It's...complicated," she said at last."And I don't fully understand it myself yet.But Verdant Port, being right on the coast...it would have been directly in its path."
"In the path of what, exactly?"Celeste pressed, her healer's instinct for precision asserting itself.
Thalia shook her head."I'll explain everything, I promise.But not now."She reached out to take her mother's hand."Right now, I just want to make sure you're safe.And comfortable."
A bitter laugh escaped Celeste's lips, surprising Thalia.Her mother rarely displayed such naked emotion.
"Comfortable?Look around you, Thalia."She gestured at the crowded hall, at a woman trying to soothe a feverish child, at an old man staring vacantly at the ceiling."We're safer here than in Verdant Port, I grant you that.But comfort?"She shook her head."That's a luxury we've left behind."
The words stung, though Thalia knew they weren't meant as a rebuke.She straightened her spine, decision crystallizing in her mind.
"Come with me," she said, standing abruptly."Both of you.Gather your things."
