Page 24

Thalia recognized them vaguely — Emir, tall and reed-thin with close-cropped hair, and Joren, shorter with a perpetual worried furrow between his brows.Both had struggled in previous lessons, their Southern upbringing leaving them as disadvantaged as Thalia when it came to ice magic.

"Luna," Thalia tried again, but her roommate held up one finger in a silent command to wait, her eyes never leaving the other students.

With a sigh, Thalia returned to their blade.The tear in her glove had worsened, a thread now hanging loose where her clumsy repair was coming undone.She'd need to find a better solution soon, or request replacement gloves — though she'd heard the waiting list for new equipment was long, with priority given to older students.Plus, putting in such a request, she would risk punishment.

She was contemplating how to adjust her grip to compensate for the tear when Luna suddenly stiffened beside her, her spine going rigid.

A sharp crack split the air — a sound like lake ice breaking underfoot in early spring.Thalia's head snapped up as she heard gasps of dismay from Emir and Joren.Their blade had not just frosted over; it had frozen solid, crystalline fractures spider-webbing across its surface.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the blade exploded.

Deadly shards sprayed outward, glittering in the pale morning light like diamond splinters.Emir and Joren dropped to the floor with twin yelps of terror.One razor-edged fragment sliced through the air where Joren's head had been moments before, catching the shoulder of his cloak and pinning it to the wooden workbench behind him before embedding itself in the grain of the wood.

The room fell silent.Twenty pairs of eyes fixed on the Southern boys sprawled on the stone floor, their faces drained of color, breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps as they realized how close they'd come to death.The fragment that had pierced Joren's cloak quivered slightly, still vibrating from the force of impact.

Then came the heavy tread of boots, deliberate and measured, as Instructor Varik crossed to their table.His face was composed, but a muscle jumped in his jaw, betraying his fury.

"Explain," he demanded, voice so quiet it was more terrifying than a shout.

Joren looked up, his eyes wide with shock."I — we —"

"We were following the instructions," Emir cut in, finding his voice first."Just like you said.Draw from our core, channel it through —"

"Following instructions?"Varik repeated, each word precisely enunciated."Was I unclear when I specified 'even' and 'controlled?’"He gestured at the fragments of blade scattered across the floor and workbench."Does this look controlled to you?"

Neither boy answered.

"Southern weakness," someone muttered from across the room — not quietly enough.

Varik's head turned sharply."Silence," he commanded, before returning his attention to the cowering students."You nearly killed yourselves and potentially others with your carelessness.When ice magic goes wrong, people lose limbs — or lives."

He bent down, picking up a blade fragment with his bare fingers, unconcerned by its razor edge."You poured too much power into the blade without proper structure.You created brittle ice, not binding frost."His eyes swept over the rest of the class."A lesson for all of you.Cryomancy requires precision above all else.Too little power, and nothing happens.Too much..."He let the fragment drop, where it shattered further against the stone floor.

Thalia's hands trembled.She leaned closer to Luna, keeping her voice low.“You knew something was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know,” Luna murmured, almost under her breath.“I suspected, and happened to be watching at the right time.”

Thalia wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she couldn’t discuss it further in the middle of class.She turned her attention to the untouched blade before her."I'm not sure I should continue.What if I make the same mistake?"

Luna didn't respond immediately.She was staring at the remains of the shattered blade, her expression unreadable, somewhere between calculation and concern.Then, slowly, her eyes tracked toward where Brynn stood with her partner, their blade already covered in a perfect, even layer of frost.

"Luna?"Thalia prompted.

"Hmm?"Luna blinked, as if coming back from somewhere far away."Oh.You won't make that mistake."

"How can you be sure?"

Luna's smile was thin and didn't reach her eyes."Because you respect the cold.Now, try again.I'll help this time."

But Thalia's confidence had evaporated like morning mist.She placed her hands on either side of the blade, trying to center herself, but the image of that shard slicing through Joren's cloak kept flashing before her eyes.Her fingers shook visibly, the tremors having nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with fear.

When she attempted to channel frost again, the power that had flowed so promisingly earlier now stuttered and stalled.A few pathetic crystals formed on the blade's edge, only to melt immediately.

"I can't," Thalia whispered, frustration making her throat tight.

Luna finally turned her full attention to their workspace."You're trying too hard now.Earlier, you were scared of not having enough power.Now you're scared of having too much."She reached out, placing her small hand over Thalia's."The secret is balance."

But balance felt impossible to achieve.Thalia's mind kept replaying the crack of the shattering blade, imagining those deadly shards flying toward her own face instead of Joren's.Each time she gathered cold energy from her core, panic seized her, and she released it before it could properly form.