Page 60 of The Guardians of Dreamdark (Windwitch #1)

An iceberg drifted, ancient and blue. It was huge, but less huge than it had been. The sea all around it was dark. Waves like black tongues lapped at the ice, eating away at it.

It was meant to last forever. For eons, guardians had watched over it, keeping it in the frigid north, shored up by protective magic.

But they were all gone, and their magic gone with them.

The iceberg had strayed into warmer waters, and it had begun to melt.

No one else knew what was inside it. Secrets had been kept too well.

So when it split with a deafening crack! , there was no one to bear witness.

The world would have no warning.

Deep in the fissure of its ancient ice, something gleamed. The black waves licked and the fissure grew, and finally the thing spilled out.

It was a slender bottle of purest gold with a cork stuck in the neck, sealed with dark red wax. It bobbed in the sea. Another splashed down, then another, then a landslide of them. Thousands of golden bottles spilled out of the iceberg and drifted away.

The currents would carry them...everywhere.