Roran was seated in the farthest cell, his back against the stone wall, legs stretched out before him.At the sound of the door, his head snapped up, eyes narrowing against the sudden light as if he'd grown accustomed to darkness.Thalia approached, her knees feeling weak at the sight of him.
He looked thin, gaunt, his cheekbones sharper than she remembered.Dark circles shadowed his eyes like bruises.His skin, usually a vibrant brown, had become muted due to lack of sun, and his hair—formerly a spectacular mane of spiraling black curls—had been cut close to his scalp, likely against his will.He seemed diminished by all of this, a shadow of the man she'd known, but when he looked up and recognized her, his lips twitched into the faintest smile.
"Greenspire?"
Thalia knelt beside the bars, pressing as close as she could."I had to see you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Thank you," he said, but there was a hollowness to it, as if he didn't believe her visit changed anything.Still, he shifted closer to her, ice-steel chains clinking as he moved.
For the first time, Thalia noticed the cuffs encircling his wrists, etched with cryomantic runes that glowed faintly in the torchlight.Roran lifted his hands ruefully, displaying them like a performer showing off a trick."You like my new accessories?"he asked, a hint of his old humor surfacing briefly."Virek's work.Meant to stifle magic."
"Do they work?"Thalia asked, eyeing the runes with professional curiosity despite the circumstances.
Roran huffed a half-laugh."I haven't been foolish enough to test them."His gaze settled on her face, intense and searching."What are you doing here, Thalia?I never expected to see you again.Thought they'd shipped you off to war."
"I couldn't stay away," Thalia said simply."I knew the trial was coming.I needed to be here."
Something flickered across Roran's face at her words—an emotion too complex to name.Wordlessly, Thalia reached through the bars to rest her hand on his.His fingers curled around hers, his skin cold against her warmth.
"Don't waste your energy on me," he said quietly."The tribunal's verdict is a foregone conclusion."
"You don't know that," Thalia insisted, though the conviction in her voice felt hollow even to her own ears.
"I do."His thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand."But I'm more concerned about you getting caught here tonight.If they find you—"
"I won't get caught," Thalia promised."Rasmus is keeping watch.He's..."She hesitated, then decided on the truth."He's a friend."
Roran's expression suggested he found this claim dubious, but he didn't argue.Instead, he looked down at their joined hands, his expression unreadable.
"We need to fight this, Roran," Thalia said, leaning closer to the bars."Frostforge owes you a debt.The academy might have withstood the Warden attack without you, but so many more would have died.We can appeal to the tribunal's sense of honor—"
"Honor?"Roran's laugh was bitter this time."Those from the Reaches like to play at honor, but the only languages they truly speak are hierarchy and control."His voice dropped lower, edged with resignation."They will always see me as a Warden.As stormspawn filth.As the enemy.It doesn't matter what I do, or where my true loyalties lie."
The defeat in his voice sparked something in Thalia—a flare of anger that burned through her fear and grief."So you're just giving up?"she demanded, tears welling in her eyes."They're going to execute you, Roran."
"I know," he said simply.
Before Thalia could respond, a sharp clang echoed through the prison—the end of Rasmus's halberd striking the stone floor.A warning.
Roran's grip tightened around her fingers for one desperate second before letting go."Must be a guard change approaching," he whispered, his voice rough."You should go.And don't come back."
Thalia stumbled to her feet, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.The torchlight wavered as she turned, casting long shadows across the cell bars.She wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck in her throat.When she looked back at Roran, she could tell he was struggling with the same.The words were there in his eyes, taking shape—the thing she wanted to say, an acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between them.But he couldn't form them either, and the misery of his failure was written across his face.
Rasmus leaned into the doorway, his expression tense."You need to leave," he hissed."Now.Or all three cells will be filled tonight."
With one last glance at Roran, Thalia backed out of the prison floor, her heart as cold and heavy as an inert golem core.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Snow blanketed Frostforge in a shroud of unnatural silence, muffling the usual sounds of boots on stone and the distant clang of practice blades.Thalia's breath clouded before her face as she paced the northern wall, her gloved fingers stiff despite the fur-lined gauntlets.Five days had passed since her visit to Roran's cell, each one colder than the last, as if the mountain itself sought to match the growing chill in her heart.She scanned the white expanse beyond the walls, searching for movement—refugee caravans, messenger ravens, any sign of life from the world beyond—but found only the pristine snowdrifts, sculpted by wind into waves that mimicked the frozen fjords below.
"Any movement, Greenspire?"The question came from a Northern guard whose name Thalia had never bothered to learn.His fur-lined hood obscured most of his face, but she recognized the disdain in his voice—the same tone most Northerners used when addressing Southerners who'd risen beyond their appointed station.
"Nothing," she replied, keeping her voice neutral."The pass is still clear, if that's your concern."
The guard grunted and continued his circuit, boots crunching over the thin layer of snow that had accumulated since the morning sweep.Thalia watched him go, then returned her gaze to the horizon.She'd become intimately familiar with this view over the past five days—the jagged peaks that clawed at the sky, the ravine that cut through the eastern face of the mountain, the treacherous switchback path that led to Frostforge's main gate.She had committed every detail to memory, if only to keep her mind from wandering to darker places.
The tribunal date loomed closer with each passing day.She had heard nothing new about Roran's situation, though not for lack of trying.Ashe's attempts to gather information had yielded little more than they already knew.The trial would be public.The charges were serious.Execution remained the most likely outcome.
