Jamie Littler

“As he spoke the light bringer paced in front of the class, his chin frantic in motion as his mouth pulled up a line of drool that had tried to get away. Ash stood beside Ryse, Shyne, and Flare, the only children in the Stronghold who didn’t seem to believe that he might be a Song Weaver. They were the closest thing he had to friends, and they were all doing an outstanding job of avoiding eye contact with Hayze in case he asked them a question. Suddenly one of the children called out in alarm, pointing over the side of the battlements. “Light bringer! Wh-what’s that?” The snow below had been disturbed. Something was moving underneath it. “Aha! What did I tell you?” crowed Hayze. “They’re here! Gather round, children, and you will see something so awful it may turn your hair as gray as mine.” Ash was shoved hard as the class surged forward to get a closer look. “Outta the way, Song-freak!” sneered Thaw, a lanky, smug-looking older boy. Thaw was by far Ash’s least favorite person in the Stronghold, followed closely by his guffawing, bootlicking lackeys Raze and Frai, who stepped in line behind their leader. Ash said nothing but got as far away from the bullies as he could before peering over the battlements. The children held their breath. All was still. All was quiet. Then: “There!” cried Hayze in his most spit-spattering whisper. The snow had surged forward, leaving a trail behind it. There was something below, something that had sensed the sounds of the Stronghold, perhaps the vibrations of the western gate creaking”
― Jamie Littler, Voyage of the Frostheart