Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
The sun was already high, spilling warm light through the windows by the time Thorne woke.
He rubbed his eyes, ran his hands through his tousled hair, and shuffled to the window.
Outside, rough waves pounded against the shore, and the campfire’s smoke curled into the wind, carrying the briny tang of salt and fish.
He pushed open the door and stepped into the cool sea breeze.
Adrian crouched by the flames, flipping a fish using his wind. He glanced up briefly, his eyes still shadowed by the previous night, though his tone remained light. “Good afternoon, sunshine.”
Thorne blinked against the light. “How long was I out?”
Adrian straightened, wiping his hands on his pants with a hint of tension in his shoulders. “It’s mid-afternoon,” he said pointedly.
“Where’s Gisela?”
A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Adrian’s lips. “She’s cleaning up with the villagers. Figured you needed the extra rest.” He shot Thorne a sidelong glance. “I briefly considered launching your bedroll into the sea. Decided against it.”
Thorne chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably wise.”
Adrian leaned back, one eyebrow raised. “Careful. I could take the breath right out of your lungs. And I’m fairly certain I already do. Good looks can have that effect.”
“You wish,” Thorne replied with a laugh and shook his head. “How’s Eva?”
Adrian’s grin faded, his posture stiffening as he glanced away from the fire. “She’s been moving around more. I think she’ll be up soon.”
Thorne climbed the stairs and stepped into the streets of Aquamere.
The village stirred with life—not the usual bustle, but a quieter kind of purpose.
Villagers cleared debris from the battle that had ravaged their home the night before.
Despite the wreckage, a warmth lingered in the air, not from Thorne’s protective flames but from the collective effort of the people.
He watched as neighbors lent each other a helping hand.
A woman, her face lined with exhaustion, offered bread to a neighbor, who accepted it with a grateful bow.
An older man tended to the wounds of a younger one with gentle, steady hands.
Even the children ran errands with determined little faces, bringing water and supplies to where they were needed.
Then Thorne saw her.
Gisela was at the fountain, surrounded by a group of children.
Her sleeves were rolled up as she worked to clean the area.
With a casual wave of her hand, the fountain froze over, and the children squealed as they slid across the ice.
One small girl clung to Gisela’s side, her tiny hands gripping her tunic as if she were afraid to let go.
“You’re so beautiful,” Thorne whispered into her mind.
Gisela’s gaze lifted, finding him. Something in her eyes sent a rush of heat through him. She bent to whisper to the little girl, who burst into a wide, toothy grin. The child released her grip and skipped off to join the others.
As Gisela approached, Thorne’s posture relaxed.
There was something about the way she moved—so calm, so effortlessly graceful, like the weight of the world couldn’t touch her.
She was a far cry from the girl she had been before they left Frosthaven.
Back then, there was an edge to her, as if she had to be ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice.
The memory twisted inside him. He had been part of the reason for that edge.
But seeing her now, poised and self-assured, left him aching with regret and admiration all at once.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hi.” He reached out, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “I’m sorry, Gisela. I was angry, and I took it out on you. You’re the last person I’d ever want to hurt. I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You think I’d give up on you that easily? Now I’m really insulted,” she said playfully.
They held each other’s gaze. He tried to smile, but it faltered. “You don’t understand. Every time you look at me like that, it feels like forgiveness I don’t deserve.”
She reached up, her hands trembling slightly as she cupped his face and kissed him, soft and certain.
All the noise in his head went quiet. The guilt, the fear—gone. All that was left was her, and the way she made him believe he could still be worthy of love.
“Aw, the love birds made up,” Marina called out, her tone light and teasing.
“Thank the Six.” She approached and handed them steaming bowls of soup before they settled on the cobblestones together.
“And for our dessert-loving lady, Aquamere’s finest treat,” she added, presenting Gisela with a small plate that held a miniature cake shaped like coral branches, glazed in ocean blue and topped with tiny edible flowers and shards of candied seaweed. “Coral Cakes.”
Gisela’s eyes brightened as she ate it all in one bite, a quiet hum of approval escaping her.
Thorne feigned a pout. “You couldn’t have let me have some?”
“Oops,” she responded through their mental link.
He nudged her playfully, grinning.
Gisela blew gently across her soup. A thin mist of frost escaped her mouth, cooling the broth instantly. She took a sip, then nodded. “Everyone did great today.”
“Yeah, Thorne did a really great job sleeping,” Marina said, but winked at him.
He shot her a look.
“I wonder what’s happening in the other villages.” Marina stirred her soup.
Gisela’s smile waned and Thorne noticed the subtle hitch in her breath. Her gaze drifted away, and she pressed her lips together as if steadying herself.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Marina said. She rummaged through her bag. “My mother’s notebook.”
Gisela stilled before taking it. Her fingers tightened around the worn cover. As she flipped through the pages, hope touched her features and then vanished.
Thorne watched her skim faster, then slowly. She leaned closer to the page, tracing the faded ink with her eyes. At the bottom, her thumb paused over a small signature—two letters and a scratchy heart.
“Can I borrow this?” Gisela asked.
“You can have it,” Marina replied with a mouth full of soup.
Thorne tilted his head, studying Gisela. “What is it?”
Gisela looked up, her voice steady but filled with urgency. “I want to go to Frosthaven. Today.”
His frown deepened. “You can’t. Not alone.”
“You said Frosthaven was already unstable before you left. Worse than here,” Marina said. “It could be much worse now.”
“All the more reason I need to check on my family. I can’t handle not knowing. It’s eating me alive.”
“Then we’ll go together,” he said. “We’ll take Terranox.”
Marina shook her head. “No. We can’t do that either. He has to return to Mystic Isle once he wakes up from his rest. You’re not burning that bridge, Thorne. I won’t let you.”
“I agree,” Gisela said. Her jaw was set, and her fingers curled around the book’s spine. “We need all the allies we can get.”
Thorne exhaled through his nose and pushed to his feet.
“I hear you,” he said. “And I know Frosthaven matters. But getting the Stones back will stabilize the realm faster than anything else we can do right now.” Thorne’s gaze dropped to the floor before lifting to Gisela.
“Once we’re done here, we go straight to the castle and get the Stones back.
We don’t have time to waste anymore.” His expression hardened. “No more delays.”
Evening fell, and Gisela knew what she had to do—what she was going to do.
She couldn’t ignore the persistent tug inside her, pulling her toward her family.
With the Guardian Tree, the journey to Frosthaven would be quick.
Just a brief trip, she told herself. She’d check on her family and return before they even realized she was gone.
They gathered around the campfire on the beach.
The air was lighter tonight, touched by laughter and the faint scent of salt and smoke.
For the first time since they arrived back in Aquamere, they let themselves breathe.
They drank ale and savored the fleeting taste of normalcy in the middle of chaos.
Gisela nestled in Thorne’s lap with her head resting on his shoulder.
His fingers wove through hers, and he stole gentle kisses against her temple and cheek.
The warmth of his touch should have soothed her, but anxiety was ravaging her insides.
It made what she had to do tonight all the more painful.
When the fire dimmed and they all turned in for the night, Thorne and Gisela settled on their bedroll in the living room.
Gisela stilled herself, pretending to sleep so Thorne would finally allow himself to rest. Each breath she took grew heavier, the ache in her chest burrowing deeper.
“I hope you know what you are doing,” Eira’s voice murmured in her mind.
“I don’t have a choice, Eira.”
Thorne shifted beside her, and guilt lashed at her like a whip. She froze, then carefully rolled onto her side, facing away. When he settled again, the space between them felt wider than the room.
Gisela carefully slipped out of their bed and crept to the door, the floor cool beneath her feet. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She turned back to look at Thorne.
He’d be angry.
But she couldn’t wait a moment longer. It would only take an hour or so.
She thinned the bond.
Easing the door open, the hinges groaned, making her wince. She waited long enough to ensure he stayed asleep, then shut it.
Outside, she grabbed her boots and pulled them on. The beach stretched out before her, silent except for the gentle lap of the waves.
Terranox still slept soundly in the sand, his massive form rising and falling with each breath. She smiled faintly before her gaze lifted toward the forest line.
“Shit.” She’d forgotten about the barrier.
Her eyes were drawn to the cliff above Marina’s house. Determination settled inside her as she turned toward it. With each step, she prepared herself for what she was about to do.