CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The bell's chime rippled through Frostforge like a stone dropped in still water, its deep resonance vibrating through stone walls and iron railings.
Thalia paused mid-stride in the corridor, her hand instinctively tightening around the small piece of blue-silver metal she'd been turning between her fingers.
The summons was unmistakable—not the usual toll marking meal times or class changes, but the low, sonorous note that signaled a mandatory assembly.
Her pulse quickened. Three days since the Isle Warden attack, and finally, the instructors were ready to address what had happened—and what would come next.
She tucked the metal fragment into her pocket.
It was one of several samples she and Kaine had carefully pried from the wall in the Founders' Price chamber, small enough that they wouldn't be missed but sufficient for preliminary tests.
Not that she'd had time to conduct any. Between processing refugees, reinforcing defenses, and tending to the wounded, she'd scarcely had a moment to breathe, let alone study an ancient alloy.
Luna appeared at the junction ahead, her short dreadlocks catching the morning light that streamed through a narrow window. She spotted Thalia and waited, her normally playful expression unusually grave.
"Took them long enough," Luna said as they fell into step together. "Three days of letting us all stew in speculation."
"They've been busy," Thalia replied, though she shared Luna's frustration. Every hour without clear direction had allowed fear to ferment among Frostforge's inhabitants, producing rumors more toxic than spoiled ale.
They found Ashe already seated at the back of the mess hall, her posture militarily straight despite the crowded bench.
The hall, designed to accommodate hundreds, now strained under the weight of nearly twice its capacity.
Students, soldiers, and refugees packed the long tables, their combined breath fogging the air despite the enormous hearths that blazed at either end of the room.
"Saved you a spot," Ashe said, nodding to the space beside her. Her expression was carefully neutral, but Thalia recognized the tight set of her jaw—the same tension she'd carried since being forced to testify against Roran.
Thalia slid onto the bench, her eyes scanning the room. Roran wasn't here yet. Neither was Kaine. The absence of both twisted her stomach into a knot that she tried to ignore.
"Look," Luna murmured, tilting her head toward the high table where the instructors usually sat. Only Virek and Marr were present, their heads bent in conversation. The other chairs remained empty, including the central seat normally occupied by Wolfe.
Before Thalia could comment, the kitchen doors swung open. Two cooks emerged, carrying baskets piled high with dark loaves of bread. They began distributing them, starting at the tables nearest the doors.
"Bread but no stew?" Luna's brow furrowed. "That's ominous. They're rationing already."
Ashe’s lips drew tight. “There are hundreds more mouths to feed now."
Thalia watched as the baskets made their way through the crowd, students breaking off pieces to pass down the line.
The portions were small—barely enough to dull the edge of hunger, and certainly not enough to fuel a full day of training or labor.
When a chunk landed in her hands, she automatically broke it in half.
A small movement caught her eye. Zanaya—the young refugee from Verdant Port—sat huddled against the wall several feet away, her thin arms wrapped around her knees.
She wasn't at a table, nor was she part of any group receiving bread.
Her eyes, dark and hollow, followed the baskets with desperate intensity.
Without hesitation, Thalia stood and crossed to the girl, crouching to offer half of her portion. "Here," she said softly.
Zanaya looked up, recognition flashing across her features. She hesitated before taking the bread with trembling fingers. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the murmurs that filled the hall.
"I'll find you later," Thalia promised. "Make sure you get a proper meal."
A sudden hush fell over the crowd. Thalia turned to see Instructor Wolfe striding through the main entrance, her left arm bound in a sling beneath her cloak.
The arrow wound in her shoulder had been serious—not life-threatening, but severe enough that it would be months before she regained full use of the limb.
Wolfe ascended to the high table, her movements stiff but purposeful. The grim set of her face sent a chill down Thalia's spine as she hurried back to her seat.
"Is this everyone?" Wolfe asked, her voice cutting through the silence. Virek leaned toward her, murmuring something. She nodded once. "We'll begin."
Thalia's gaze swept the room again. Still no sign of Roran or Kaine. Her unease deepened.
"Three days ago," Wolfe began, "Frostforge suffered the most brazen attack in its history.
The Isle Wardens brought weapons we've never encountered before—weapons capable of neutralizing our ice-metals.
" She paused, her emerald eyes hard as she surveyed the room.
Seventeen are dead. Thirty-nine wounded. "
The numbers were like jabs to the chest. Thalia had known the toll was high, but hearing it quantified made it real in a way that the chaos of the aftermath hadn't.
"Some of you may believe this was an isolated incident," Wolfe continued. "A desperate strike meant to rescue captured Wardens, or perhaps retaliation for our forces’ recent victories near Southhaven port. It was not."
She gestured to Marr, who unrolled a large map across the high table. Even from the back of the room, Thalia could see the red marks that dotted the coastline.
"What we faced was part of a pattern—a coordinated campaign against the academy that has been escalating. This was the third major assault on Frostforge in as many years, each more sophisticated than the last. Frostforge is built to withstand raids such as these, but the Wardens’ tactics are evolving. ”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Thalia felt Luna stiffen beside her.
"Our scouts report increased Warden activity along all major waterways. Their forces are gathering. We must assume Frostforge will be tested again, perhaps before the year's end. We must prepare for the possibility of a full-scale siege."
Thalia's mind raced. The academy was well-fortified, but it had never been designed to withstand a prolonged assault. And with their weapons vulnerable to the Wardens' black metal….
The doors at the rear of the hall opened again.
Thalia turned to see Roran entering, followed closely by Kaine.
Both moved with the careful awareness of men expecting trouble, their eyes scanning the room before settling on the high table.
They remained standing near the exit, as if anticipating the need for a quick departure.
Roran's gaze found hers briefly. The smile he offered was thin but genuine, his eyes warming for just a moment before returning to Wolfe. Beside him, Kaine's expression remained impassive, though Thalia thought she detected a slight nod in her direction.
"Which brings me to our immediate response," Wolfe was saying. "Defense alone is not sufficient. We must understand what we face—the source of their new weapons, their numbers, their plans. We need intelligence."
She gestured toward the back of the room. "Roran Bright."
All heads turned. Roran stepped forward, his shoulders square despite the weight of hundreds of stares.
"As part of your probationary terms," Wolfe said, "you will undertake a reconnaissance mission into Warden territory."
Thalia's stomach plummeted. The blood in her veins seemed to freeze mid-flow.
"Your knowledge of coastal waters and ability to navigate hostile environments make you uniquely suited to this task," Wolfe continued.
"You will depart within the next two days.
Your objective is to locate the source of the black metal weapons and gather information on Warden movements and strategies. "
The crowd's reaction was immediate—a surge of whispers that rose like wind through winter branches. Some faces showed relief that action was being taken; others displayed open skepticism that Roran, so recently accused of treason, should be trusted with such a critical mission.
But Thalia could see only one thing: a death sentence disguised as an opportunity. No one had ever infiltrated Warden territory and returned alive. Not in all the years of conflict. It was suicide.
"I volunteer to accompany him."
Kaine's voice cut through the murmurs, clear and steady. He stepped forward to stand beside Roran, his expression resolute.
Wolfe studied him for a long moment. "Your skills would be valuable," she acknowledged. "But the forge needs you, Ember."
"With respect, Instructor," Kaine replied, "my assistant can manage production while I'm gone. And Bright is on probation for his use of storm magic. Can he be trusted in intelligence-gathering on his own?"
The crowd stilled, watching the exchange. Thalia felt as though the floor had dropped away beneath her. Not just Roran, but Kaine too—both of them walking willingly into the maw of death.
"Very well," Wolfe said finally. "You'll accompany Bright. Make your preparations."
Thalia was on her feet before she realized she intended to move, her voice carrying across the hushed hall. "I should go too."
All eyes turned to her. She felt the weight of their stares but kept her focus on Wolfe, whose expression had hardened to granite.
"I have experience with the black metal," Thalia continued, desperate logic spilling from her lips. "I can identify the ore we need to find. And I—"
"No." Wolfe's refusal was absolute. "You abandoned your post in the North, Greenspire. The only reason you didn't face punishment is that we need every able-bodied person to defend these walls. Your request is denied."