CHAPTER ONE
The wind sliced through Thalia's military-issue ice-steel armor like it was nothing more than silk, mocking the thick pelt lining that had seemed so substantial when she'd donned it hours ago.Each step forward through the knee-deep snow demanded a fight, a deliberate conquest of frozen terrain that left her legs aching and her lungs burning with each frigid breath.At this northern latitude, far beyond even the Rimspire Mountains where Frostforge stood sentinel, winter wasn't merely a season—it was an ever-present malevolence, a predator waiting to sink its teeth and claws into human flesh.
Thalia paused, squinting against the needles of sleet that stung her exposed cheeks.The horizon was nothing but white bleeding into gray, a colorless wasteland stretching endlessly in all directions.Even the sky above seemed lower here, pressing down on the barren landscape like a lid on a tomb.
At least in the Rimspire, where Frostforge clung to a sheer cliff face near a picturesque, frigid fjord, there had been beauty to distract from the cold.The majesty of jagged mountains piercing the sky, the distant shimmer of fjords cutting through valleys, the Crystalline Plateau glittering in morning light.Here, at the most remote outpost on the northeast coast, there was only the cold and its desolation, with no softness to temper its edges.The only respite came on rare clear nights when auroras painted the sky in ghostly shades of emerald and violet, but such nights were scarce treasures in a season of perpetual storms.
For two months, they'd been stationed at this backwater garrison, and in that time, they'd done nothing but patrol its perimeters in endless, mindless circles.No battles, no missions, no purpose beyond ensuring that the emptiness outside the fortress remained empty.They were soldiers forged in the crucible of Frostforge Academy, trained for four brutal years to fight Isle Wardens, and here they were, wading through snow drifts while the real war raged hundreds of miles south along the coast.
Thalia turned to Luna, who trudged beside her with frost collecting on her eyelashes and the tops of her dreadlocks."If I have to walk this same circuit one more time, I might just lie down in the snow and let the cold take me," she said, her breath clouding before her like the ghost of her ambitions.
Luna's laugh cut through the wind's howl, surprisingly bright in the gloom."Don't be so dramatic.It could be worse, you know."She adjusted her fur hood, revealing a smile that seemed unnervingly genuine."We could be front-line fodder, getting picked off by Isle Warden raids."
"I think I’d prefer that.At least I’d be using my training," Thalia muttered."Something more than just...existing in this frozen hell."
"Maybe we're still being evaluated," Luna suggested, her dark eyes scanning the horizon with practiced vigilance despite her light tone."Waiting to see who breaks first before they give us real assignments."
Thalia snorted, sending another cloud of condensation into the air.They weren’t being evaluated, and both of them knew it.They were being kept out of the way.Relegated to grunt work."Have you heard about Einar’s placement?He's already a lieutenant at Southhaven's naval base, commanding his own squadron."
"Einar is from the Reaches," Luna pointed out."And ranked second in our class."
"Exactly," Thalia said, her frustration hardening her voice."Second.And Brynn ranked first, yet she’s here with us, freezing with the rest of us in this wasteland."She kicked at a drift of snow, sending crystalline powder scattering."It doesn't make sense unless..."
Luna's gaze shifted meaningfully toward a group of Northern soldiers huddled around a brazier near the fortress wall.As Thalia followed her look, several of them glanced over, their expressions hardening into unmistakable disdain before they turned away.
"Unless the politics didn't end with graduation," Luna finished for her, voice dropping to a whisper that the wind couldn't carry.
Thalia scowled.The rigid, if unofficial, social hierarchy of Frostforge—Northerners at the top, those from the Southern Kingdoms struggling below—hadn't dissolved when they'd earned their ranks.It had simply transformed, following them into the military structure like a shadow.
"We’re only stuck out here because we're Southerners," Thalia said, the words bitter on her tongue."Because the Northern officers don't trust us with real command, no matter how well we performed at the academy."
Luna shrugged, but her casual gesture couldn't disguise the sharp intelligence in her eyes."The Northern Reaches have always felt superior to the kingdoms of the South.Even when we fight on the same side against the Isle Wardens, we're still...other."She adjusted her gloves, tugging them tighter against the cold."At least we're alive.That's more than some can say."
"We trained for war, not for drudgery," Thalia muttered.“If Isle Wardens are attacking in the South, then that’s where we should be.”
They walked in silence for several paces, their boots crunching through the frost-hardened crust of snow.When Luna spoke again, her voice was softer, knowing.
"It's not just the war that has you so restless, is it?It's Roran."
At the sound of Roran’s name, Thalia's heart seized in her chest, a sharp contraction that had nothing to do with the cold.She saw his face again, not smiling as it so often had been during their years at Frostforge, but steady with resignation as the academy's golems dragged him away.Like he’d always known this was going to happen.
The Isle Warden attack on Frostforge’s fjord, orchestrated by a treacherous instructor, had been timed to isolate the fourth and first-year students from the rest of the school.The Wardens had moved with intent to kill as many recruits as they could, to weaken the academy, make it vulnerable to future assaults.If it hadn’t been for Roran, they might have succeeded.
He'd unleashed his storm magic, the manipulation and control of lightning, wind, and water, to fight back against Isle Warden attackers as they sought to isolate and kill Frostforge students.Without him, the casualties of the Isle Wardens' attack on the academy's fjord would have been far more numerous.But the Wardens struggled to battle against their people's signature, chaotic magic; they always had.Roran had given the students a fighting chance, held back the onslaught until reinforcements could arrive from the keep.
Despite this, Wolfe had ordered his immediate arrest at the battle’s end.Storm magic was an Isle Warden gift, and inclinations toward it were genetic, passed down through the blood of the archipelago’s mist-wreathed raiders.To the Frostforge faculty, and to more than a few of the students who viewed Roran with wary eyes, it did not matter that he had turned that power against the enemy.The moment he revealed it, he had revealed himself.
Warden.Stormspawn.Enemy.
"Have you heard anything?"Thalia asked, unable to keep the desperate edge from her voice."About Roran, I mean."
Luna's perpetual smile faded, her expression growing solemn in a way that made Thalia's stomach clench."The tribunal is scheduled to begin in the coming weeks.That's all I know for certain."She hesitated, then added, "The couriers talk.Not to me, but near me, which is almost the same thing."
Thalia's throat closed around words she couldn't form.She knew what a tribunal meant.If Roran was found guilty of using storm magic, of having a connection to the Isle Wardens—even by blood alone—there would be no mercy.The sentence would be death.It was the reason Roran had moved so carefully during his four years at the academy; he had harbored a secret that could be the end of him.In fighting to save Frostforge, he had doomed himself.
The wind howled across the barren plain, carrying ice crystals that stung like tiny daggers against exposed skin.But Thalia barely felt it now.The cold inside her ran deeper than any winter chill could reach.
***
