Chapter 19: Chapter 18: The Weight of Watching

The armoury felt smaller with three people moving through it, preparing for a journey none of them wanted to make. Thalia stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching Flynn methodically check his travelling pack while Riven sharpened an already perfect blade. The scrape of whetstone against steel filled the silence like an accusation.

"Light rations only," she said, though they'd already discussed this twice. "You can't afford to be weighed down if you need to move quickly."

Flynn glanced up from his pack, a strip of dried meat halfway to his mouth. "We know, Thalia. We've done this before."

"Not with her, you haven't." The words came out sharper than she'd intended. Thalia rubbed her temples, feeling the headache that had been building since dawn. "A corrupted bearer in unknown territory, following a compass that may or may not be leading us into a trap."

Riven didn't look up from his blade. "Then perhaps we should reconsider this entire venture."

"She's going with or without us." Thalia stepped into the armoury, her bare feet silent on the stone. "At least this way, she has protection."

"Protection." Riven's laugh held no humour. "Two guards against whatever force tried to separate her from her storm last night? What exactly are we supposed to protect her from?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. Thalia had been asking herself the same thing since the boundary link, since she'd felt that alien cold trying to sever Kaela's connection to her storm. It wasn't corruption—corruption worked differently, more like a poison than a blade. This had been something else entirely. Something that knew exactly what it was doing.

"We don't know," she admitted. "That's why I'm sending you both."

Flynn secured the last buckle on his pack and straightened. "Any word from the other Sanctuaries? Maybe they've seen something similar."

"Ravens take three days minimum to reach Stonehaven," Thalia said. "And that's assuming the message gets through at all. Half the mountain passes are already snowed in."

She'd sent word anyway, of course. A carefully coded message asking about organised Hunter activity, strange manifestations around bearers, and anything resembling what had happened to Kaela. But she knew, with the cold certainty that had guided her for fifteen years, that they were on their own.

Riven stood, testing the balance of his newly sharpened sword before sheathing it. "The girl is convinced her father's compass will lead her to other bearers."

"It might." Thalia moved to the weapon racks, running her fingers along the hilts of various blades. "The boundary link changed something in her connection to it. That much is obvious."

"Or it changed something in her," Riven countered. "Corruption can mimic hope just as easily as despair."

The accusation struck deep, and Thalia spun to face him. "You think the boundary link was corrupted?"

"I think we performed a forbidden ritual on a partially corrupted bearer using methods we barely understand." Riven's steel-blue eyes were unflinching. "If you were in my position, wouldn't you be concerned?"

Thalia wanted to argue, but the truth was she'd been wrestling with the same fears. The boundary link was supposed to reinforce a bearer's connection to their storm, not create new abilities. Yet Kaela's compass had started working immediately after the ritual, and those invisible threads she described...

"The corruption hasn't advanced," she said finally. "If anything, it's been more stable since the link."

"For now." Riven adjusted his sword belt, the motion automatic after years of preparation. "But what happens when we're a day's travel from the Sanctum and her condition deteriorates? What happens if we encounter other bearers and she infects them?"

"What happens if we let her go alone and lose our only chance to understand what's hunting storm-bearers?" Thalia shot back. "She's not Nira, Riven."

The name fell between them like a stone into still water. Flynn stopped adjusting his pack straps, and even the scrape of whetstone from the adjoining chamber went silent. Daro must have heard.

Riven's face went carefully blank. "No. She's not."

But Thalia could see the comparison in his eyes, the way he watched Kaela for signs of the same hunger that had consumed their previous charge. Nira had been eager for power, desperate to prove herself stronger than her storm. Kaela feared her abilities, felt guilty for them, and tried to push others away to protect them. The difference should have been reassuring.

Should have been.

"Two days," Thalia said again, as much to convince herself as to remind them. "If you encounter any sign of organised Hunter activity, you turn back immediately."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"And if the compass leads us to something we can't handle?" Flynn asked.

Thalia pulled a leather-wrapped bundle from one of the weapon racks and handed it to him. Inside were three signal flares—expensive, difficult to make, and their only means of long-distance communication. "Use these only in an absolute emergency. The light can be seen from twenty miles away on a clear night."

Flynn nodded and tucked the bundle into his pack. "What about you and the others? Will you be safe here?"

"Daro and Elyra can handle the Sanctum's defences." Thalia moved to the window, gazing out at the snow-covered peaks that surrounded their hidden valley. "And I'll be monitoring the boundary link. If something happens to Kaela..."

She didn't finish the sentence. They all knew what the boundary link meant—shared fate, shared risk. If Kaela died, the drain on their life force could kill them all. If she turned, the corruption might spread through the link like wildfire through dry grass.

"You could have refused her," Riven said quietly. "Locked her in the healing chamber until spring."

"Could I?" Thalia turned back to face him. "Would silver chains and stone walls have stopped her storm? Or would they have driven her to desperation?"

Riven had no answer for that. None of them did.

Heavy footsteps in the corridor announced Daro's approach. The big smith appeared in the doorway, his expression grim. "Kaela's ready. She's asking for her gear."

Thalia nodded. It was time.

The common hall felt like a stage set for a farewell. Kaela sat near the fire, already dressed in the winter travelling clothes Flynn had brought her days ago. Her father's compass lay open in her palm, its needle pointing steadily northeast. She looked stronger than she had since the boundary link—colour in her cheeks, steadiness in her movements—but Thalia could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her free hand worried at the edge of her cloak.

Elyra knelt beside Kaela's chair, pressing a small cloth bundle into her hands. "Willow bark for pain, feverfew for headaches, and moonberry extract in case the corruption flares. Use it sparingly—I only had enough ingredients for three doses."

"Thank you." Kaela's voice was steady, but Thalia caught the underlying tremor. Fear, excitement, determination—all tangled together like storm winds.

Daro stepped forward, offering Kaela a narrow bundle wrapped in dark cloth. "Iron focus bands. Riven says you've been practising with one, but these are sized properly for your arms. They'll help channel your storm without overwhelming you."

Kaela unwrapped the cloth, revealing two sleek metal bands etched with subtle wind patterns. They were beautiful work—Daro's best craftsmanship—and Thalia felt a pang at seeing him give them away. He'd been working on those bands for weeks, though he'd never admitted they were meant for Kaela.

"I don't know what to say." Kaela slipped the bands onto her forearms, and immediately Thalia felt a change in the air—a subtle settling, like wind finding its proper channel. "They're perfect."

"Don't lose them," Daro said gruffly, but his eyes were warm.

Flynn appeared from the armoury, his pack secured and his travelling cloak already fastened. "Ready when you are, storm-girl."

Riven emerged a moment later, moving with the silent efficiency that marked him as dangerous. His sword hung at his side, and Thalia could see the outline of throwing knives beneath his cloak. He was armed for war, not exploration.

"Two days," Thalia said again, addressing all three of them. "Follow the compass, observe what you find, but do not engage anything you can't handle. Information is more valuable than heroics."

Kaela stood, closing the compass with a decisive snap. "We'll be careful."

"Will you?" Thalia studied the young woman's face, seeing the same stubborn determination that had driven her to leave Ashgrove to seek answers instead of accepting safety. "Or will you see something that reminds you of home and forget every precaution we've taught you?"

A flash of anger crossed Kaela's features. "I'm not a child."

"No," Thalia agreed. "But you are someone who just learned to control her storm, carrying corruption we don't fully understand, following a compass that may be leading you into the hands of whatever tried to separate you from your power last night."

The words hung heavy in the warm air of the common hall. Kaela's storm stirred in response to her emotions, sending a faint crackle of energy through the iron bands on her arms. But she didn't lash out, didn't let the power escape her control. Progress, Thalia noted with both relief and worry.

"I know the risks," Kaela said quietly. "And I also know that hiding here won't give me the answers I need. If there are other bearers out there—if my father found something before he disappeared—then this compass is my only chance to find them."

Thalia nodded, though the motion felt like surrender. "Then go. But remember—the boundary link works both ways. If you're in mortal danger, we'll feel it. And if the corruption spreads..."

"You'll know," Kaela finished. "I won't let that happen."

Empty promises, Thalia thought, but didn't say. Nira had made similar vows.

The farewell was brief by necessity. Too much emotion would only make the separation harder, and Thalia could already feel the phantom pull of the boundary threads as Kaela prepared to move beyond their normal range. The three travellers gathered their gear and provisions, checked their weapons one final time, and moved toward the Sanctum's entrance.

Thalia followed them to the heavy oak door, her bare feet finding familiar holds in the stone floor. Outside, the light had begun its golden descent, bathing the snow-covered peaks in a warm amber glow. The sky was still clear, the crisp air sharp with the promise of night. Ideal conditions for travel, and just as ideal for anyone keeping watch on the mountain passes.

"The northeast trail is treacherous until you reach the valley floor," she said, fighting the urge to call the whole thing off. "Stay together, and trust Flynn's knowledge of the terrain."

"We know the way," Riven said, though his eyes were already scanning the visible slopes for signs of movement.

Kaela stepped forward, and for a moment Thalia thought she might embrace her. Instead, the young woman reached out and grasped Thalia’s hand briefly—a gesture of steady resolve.

“I’ll come back,” Kaela said, her voice clear. “No matter what.”

Thalia held her gaze. “See that you do.”

And then they were gone, three figures picking their way down the narrow trail that led from the Sanctum's hidden entrance. Thalia watched until they disappeared around the first bend, swallowed by shadows and distance.