A realization settled over Thalia, heavy as a mantle of frost."The new term is beginning," she said softly.
She did the calculations in her head.It had been three months since their graduation from Frostforge, two since their arrival at that dismal outpost in the Reaches.The Academy's rhythms continued uninterrupted, the inexorable machine of war production grinding on.While they had been patrolling empty wastes and shivering in barracks that never truly warmed, a new crop of recruits had been gathered, a new cycle set in motion.
Her nails dug into her palms, frustration flaring hot beneath her skin.She had graduated seventh in her class — seventh out of over fifty recruits who had survived to see their fourth year.By all accounts, she should have had a better placement than a forgotten outpost on the edge of nowhere.Northerners who had ranked below her certainly had.
Einar was now leading squadrons against Isle Warden raids along the Southern coast.Ryvek, who had cheated on half his cryomancy examinations, was strategizing in officers' tents rather than standing mind-numbing guard shifts in the frozen emptiness of the Reaches.Morrigan, who had ranked in the bottom third of their year, had been assigned as a warship's first officer in the Southern Ocean.All because they had been born on the right side of the fjords.
"We need to get to the water’s edge," Ashe said, already starting down the slope that would lead them to the glassy fjord."The ship will reach the docks faster than we’ll be able to on foot."
"Wait," Luna called after her."Are you suggesting we flag it down?In the open water?"
"It would make our passage through the fjord considerably easier," Ashe replied without breaking stride."Unless you'd prefer another day of hiking over those."She nodded toward the towering cliffs that lined the fjord, their faces sheer and treacherous.
Thalia hurried to catch up, heart skipping."But won't they recognize us as deserters?Our disappearance will have been reported by now."
"To the military command, yes," Ashe agreed."But not to the Selection officials on that ship.Their only concern is delivering recruits safely to the Academy.They won't be carrying military reports or warrants."
Thalia hesitated, weighing the risk.Being discovered as deserters could mean immediate arrest and return to the Reaches, which could rob them of any chance to intervene in Roran's tribunal.But Ashe was right—the alternative was at least another full day of punishing travel along treacherous terrain, with their supplies dwindling and their strength already stretched thin.
"And if there are soldiers aboard?"Luna asked, voicing Thalia's fears.
"Then we rely on my orders," Ashe replied, tapping the sealed scroll she kept in her tunic, close to her heart."I was summoned to Frostforge by the tribunal.That alone should grant us passage, at least long enough to reach the Academy."
The unspoken understanding hung between them: once there, they would face whatever consequences came.But for now, they would do whatever it took to reach Roran before it was too late.
"Then let's move," Thalia said, pushing her aching legs to increase their pace."We have a ship to catch."
***
The Selection ship docked with the practiced efficiency of a vessel that had made this journey countless times before.Thalia stood at the rail, hands gripping the frost-slick wood as Frostforge's docks materialized through the morning mist—a sprawling wooden platform extending from the rocky shore, reinforced with ice-steel beams that glinted like frozen veins against the dark timber.
Below, the water churned against the pilings, chunks of ice colliding with hollow thuds that echoed across the fjord.Familiar sounds, familiar sights, yet everything felt altered, as if she were seeing it all through a sheet of imperfect glass—recognizable but distorted by the knowledge of what awaited them within the Academy's stone walls.
Beside her, the Southern recruits pressed forward, their expressions a uniform mask of apprehension tinged with wonder.Some couldn't be more than eighteen—the same age she had been when she'd first arrived, though that seemed a lifetime ago now.One girl clutched a small cloth pouch not unlike the one Thalia had carried, filled with herbs from her mother's shop in Verdant Port.The sight of it lodged something painful in her chest.
"They have no idea what's waiting for them," Luna murmured, her breath forming a cloud between them.
Thalia didn't respond.What could she say?That a third wouldn’t survive to see their second year?That even those who graduated might find themselves cast aside, their achievements disregarded because of where they were born?Better to let them hold onto their hopes a while longer.
The ship's wooden gangplank descended with a dull thud, connecting them to the dock.As the first recruits began to disembark, Thalia spotted a formation of soldiers awaiting them, their ice-steel armor catching the strengthening sunlight.At their center stood a woman with jet-black hair and sharp, angular features—Senna Drake.Even at this distance, Thalia recognized the predatory stillness in her posture, the way her silver-gray eyes assessed each recruit who stepped onto the dock.
Thalia swore under her breath."What is she doing here?"
"Tormenting the new recruits, apparently," Ashe replied, watching as Senna's squadron moved to flank the gangplank, creating a gauntlet through which each new arrival had to pass.
The four of them hung back, allowing most of the Southern recruits to disembark before they descended.Thalia felt her heart rate increase with each step down the gangplank, her palm instinctively finding the hilt of her ice-steel blade.Not that she intended to draw it—but its weight against her hip was a comfort, as tangible as her rising anxiety.
As they reached the dock, Senna's gaze snapped to them, her eyes narrowing in recognition.She barked an order to one of her subordinates before striding across the dock in their direction, her movements fluid and economical.Around her, the other soldiers had begun a systematic inspection of the recruits, pulling them aside one by one to examine their belongings and, in some cases, their persons.
Senna reached for a dark-skinned Southern boy dressed in shabby clothing, her frost-gloved fingers closing around his upper arm with unnecessary force.The boy winced but didn't cry out, his eyes fixed on the wooden planks beneath his feet.
"Why are you here?"Senna asked, not looking at Thalia as she roughly turned the boy's face toward the light, examining him as one might inspect a questionable piece of fruit.
Thalia squared her shoulders, forcing her voice to remain steady."We're here for Roran's trial.Ashe was summoned to testify."
Her throat tightened around Roran's name, speaking it aloud like invoking a spell that might conjure him before her.
Senna's frost-gloved hands tightened around the recruit's arm, leaving marks that would bloom into bruises by nightfall.The boy didn't flinch, a testament either to his courage or to a life that had already taught him to endure pain without reaction.Thalia’s brow furrowed as her gaze flicked to the other soldiers of Senna’s squadron, who were engaging in similar abuse of the other recruits.
