Roran.
Her gaze snapped back to the burning structure, to the center where the tribunal had convened, where Roran had knelt in chains.Where she had last seen him, moments before the arrow struck Wolfe and chaos erupted.
Thalia had seen Isle Wardens recognize Roran before, call him by his former name.Call him Stormchild.Call hima betrayer.What if they saw past his shorn hair and gaunt features to the Isle Warden blood that ran in his veins?What would they do to someone they considered a traitor, who had turned his inherited storm magic against his own kind?
Thalia glanced around herself, at the raging battle, the encroaching Wardens, the cryomancers struggling to hold the barrier of ice.A sense of certainty crystallized within her; they were losing this battle.It wouldn’t be long before the barrier fell, before the Wardens swept through their ranks, before the keep’s entrance was breached.
Unless they could turn the tide.Unless they could find a secret weapon, something that wouldn’t crumble to the Wardens as easily as their failing ice-metal.
Unless Thalia could free Roran.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Thalia's gaze snapped back to the burning amphitheater, flames dancing against the storm-dark sky like vengeful spirits.The certainty crystallized within her, cold and sharp as a blade of ice-steel: Roran.He was their only hope.Without him, Frostforge would fall, and at any rate, she couldn’t leave him to die in the amphitheater; she had fought too hard, risked too much to save him.
Her decision made, she shed fear like a discarded cloak and turned away from the defensive line, away from safety, plunging instead into the heart of the battle's chaos.The wind carried the scent of blood and burning wood, and beneath it all, the distinctive tang of ozone—storm magic gathering, waiting to be unleashed.
"Greenspire!Where are you going?"Brynn's voice cut through the tumult, sharp with disbelief.
Thalia didn't slow."Roran's still in there!"she called back, not bothering to turn."He's our only chance!"
"You'll be killed!"Brynn shouted, but her voice was already growing fainter as Thalia put distance between them.
The battlefield stretched before her like a nightmarish painting, blurred by smoke and mist.Isle Wardens advanced in waves, their painted faces demonic in the strange, storm-filtered light.Between them and the keep's entrance stood the last line of Frostforge's defense—students and soldiers fighting with desperation, their ice-metal weapons long since shattered, leaving them with crude, improvised arms or bare-handed cryomancy.
Thalia ducked as a black-tipped spear whistled overhead, its passage stirring her hair.She clutched the broken hilt of her sword.It was useless against the Wardens' black metal, but perhaps enough to break Roran's chains—if she could reach him.
A Warden stepped into her path, his face painted with swirling patterns of blue and black that stretched from forehead to jaw.He carried no weapon, but his hands crackled with energy, tiny arcs of electricity jumping between his fingers.A storm mage—one of the elite among the Isle Wardens, those whose control of weather magic went beyond crude manipulations of wind and water.
"Going somewhere, mainlander?"he sneered, the words thick with his island accent.
Thalia had no time for this.No weapon that could stand against him.No skill with cryomancy to match his storm powers.But she had desperation, and the knowledge that every second spent here was another second the amphitheater burned with Roran inside it.
She lunged forward, feinting left, then dropping to slide beneath his guard as he moved to intercept.Her shoulder slammed into his knee at an angle that sent him staggering sideways, cursing in the guttural language of the Isles.Before he could recover, she was up and running again, zigzagging through the battlefield.
Another Warden appeared through the mist, this one wielding a wicked black trident.Thalia changed direction, using a fallen timber as a vault to leap over a cluster of bodies.Her boots slipped on blood-slicked grass as she landed, sending her sprawling.The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but adrenaline had her moving again before she could feel the pain.
She scrambled to her feet, aware of the Warden turning to follow her movement.Ahead, three Wardens were overwhelming a lone Frostforge soldier, their black weapons flashing as they circled their prey.To her right, a group of students had formed a defensive ring around a wounded instructor, using cryomancy to keep the attackers at bay with a wall of ice spikes.
Thalia needed a weapon—something, anything better than her broken sword hilt.Her eyes caught on a fallen Warden, his body half-buried beneath a collapsed section of the amphitheater's outer wall.Beside his outstretched hand lay a quarterstaff of polished wood, its ends capped with bands of the mysterious black metal.
She darted toward it, dropping into a slide that carried her to the weapon just as another explosion rocked the plateau.The staff was heavier than it looked, the wood dense and unyielding in her grip.It wouldn't shatter ice-metal, but it might offer her some protection on her desperate dash to the amphitheater.
A wave of Wardens moved between her and her goal, pressing toward the keep.They weren't focused on her—one lone soldier moving against the flow of battle seemed less of a threat than curiosity.She used this to her advantage, circling wide around the densest fighting.
As she drew closer to the burning structure, heat blasted her face in waves.The wooden skeleton of the amphitheater was fully engulfed now, fire racing along the frame like a living thing seeking escape.Black smoke billowed skyward, mingling with the unnatural storm clouds that still churned overhead.Through gaps in the flame, she could see the tribunal's platform where Roran had knelt in chains.
Something prickled along her spine, a sensation like ants crawling beneath her skin.The air around her seemed to vibrate, to compress.Without thinking, she threw herself sideways, hitting the ground hard and rolling.A heartbeat later, lightning struck where she had stood, the ground exploding in a shower of dirt and stone.The smell of scorched earth filled her nostrils, and her ears rang with the thunderclap that followed.
Her heart pounded against her ribs like a panicked bird.That hadn't been random—the bolt had targeted her specifically.Somewhere among the Wardens, a storm mage had marked her for death.She needed to move, to become a harder target.
Thalia pushed herself to her feet and sprinted toward the burning amphitheater, no longer attempting stealth.Speed was her only defense now.The strange tingling sensation returned, stronger this time, a pressure building at the base of her skull.Her senses now warned her of the gathering energy above.
She dodged left as another bolt seared down, close enough that the hairs on her arms stood up, her skin prickling with static.The ground where it struck smoldered, a black scar against the frost-rimed stone.She didn't slow, didn't look back to locate her attacker.The entrance to the amphitheater loomed ahead, a maw of fire and darkness.
Heat struck her like a physical blow as she plunged through the entrance.Smoke filled her lungs, and she dropped instinctively lower, where the air was marginally clearer.Pieces of the roof were collapsing, sending showers of embers dancing through the haze.The wooden benches that had held hundreds of spectators were now kindling for the inferno, crackling and spitting as they were consumed.
"Roran!"she called, her voice immediately swallowed by the roar of the flames.
