On the edge of the black pool, beneath the shelter of the heart tree, MaesterLuwin lay on his belly in the dirt. A

he turned to give his father one last look, and it seemed toBran that there was a sadness in Lord Eddard’s eyes, as if he did not wantthem to go. We have to, he thought. It’s time.

Lord Eddard Stark,beneath his stately granite likeness, the six fugitives huddled round their little

He could reach Summer whenever hewanted, and once he had even touched Ghost and talked to Jon.

The dark place was pulling at him by then, the house of whispers where allmen were blind.

The smoke and ash clouded his eyes, and in the skyhe saw a great winged snake whose roar was a river of flame. He bared histeeth, but then the snake was gone. Behind the cliffs tall fires were eating upthe stars

Men, many men, many horses, and fire, fire, fire.

“No,” she said. “There’s nothing behind us.” The look she gave him wassad. “By now Mance is well down the Milkwater, marching on your Wall.”

He knew, he thought numbly. He knew what they would ask of me. Hethought of Samwell Tarly then, of Grenn and Dolorous Edd, of Pyp and Toadback at Castle Black. Had he lost them all, as he had lost Bran and Rickonand Robb? Who was he now? What was he?

and Qhorin Halfhand fell.

“The bird hates you, Jon Snow,” said Ygritte. “And well he might. He wasa man, before you killed him.”

“No!” The word burst from Jon’s lips before the bowmen could loose. Hetook two quick steps forward. “We yield!”

the eagle waswaiting for them, perched on a dead tree a hundred feet up the slope.

That is the duty I lay on you, Jon Snow.”“I’ll do as you say,” Jon said reluctantly, “but ... you will tell them, won’tyou? The Old Bear, at least? You’ll tell him that I never broke my oath.”Qhorin Halfhand gazed at him across the fire, his eyes lost in pools ofshadow. “When I see him next. I swear it.”

“As shy as amaid on her wedding night,” the big ranger said in a soft voice, “and near asfair. Sometimes a man forgets how pretty a fire can be.”He was not a man you’d expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. Sofar as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he everlove a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire.When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm hishands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good.

Sometimes she wouldsing to him. I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair.

He dreamed his sister was standing over his bed, with their lordfather beside her, frowning. It had to be a dream, since Lord Tywin was athousand leagues away, fighting Robb Stark in the west.

Smooth seamless skin covered his teeth. Thediscovery terrified him. How could he live without a mouth? He began to run.

black hearts, grey lions, deadflowers, and pale ghostly stags.

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names ontheir hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who seesthem to know the dragons are returned.”

Lord Swann’s

I am called Arstan, though Belwasnamed me Whitebeard on the voyage here.”

The old man had the look of Westeros about him,

The warlocks whispered of three treasons ... once for blood and once forgold and once for love. The first traitor was surely Mirri Maz Duur, who hadmurdered Khal Drogo and their unborn son to avenge her people. Could PyatPree and Xaro Xhoan Daxos be the second and the third? She did not thinkso. What Pyat did was not for gold, and Xaro had never truly loved her.

Urrathon Night-Walker,

“It was Lord Renly! Lord Renly in his green armor,

the golden roseand golden lion and all the others, the Marbrand tree and the Rowan, Tarly’shuntsman and Redwyne’s grapes and Lady Oakheart’s leaf. All thewestermen, all the power of Highgarden and Casterly Rock! Lord Tywinhimself had their right wing on the north side of the river, with Randyll Tarlycommanding the center and Mace Tyrell the left, but the vanguard won thefight. They plunged through Stannis like a lance through a pumpkin, everyman of them howling like some demon in steel.

He yanked her closer, and for amoment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. Sheclosed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. “Still can’t bearto look, can you?” she heard him say. He gave her arm a hard wrench, pullingher around and shoving her down onto the bed. “I’ll have that song. Florianand Jonquil, you said.” His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, littlebird. Sing for your little life.”

“Lady,” she whimpered softly, wondering if shewould meet her wolf again when she was dead.

he never knew why she got to her feet, but she did. “Don’t be afraid,” shetold them loudly. “The queen has raised the drawbridge. This is the safestplace in the city. There’s thick walls, the moat, the spikes ...”

Tyrion had no more strength than a rag doll.Ser Mandon put the point of his sword to the hollow of his throat and curledboth hands around the hilt.

Battle, what battle, if Stannis hasn’tcrossed who is he fighting?

and slit the poor creature’s throat.

“I’ve done no treasons. I only visit the godswood to pray.”“For Stannis. Or your brother, it’s all the same. Why else seek your father’sgods? You’re praying for our defeat. What would you call that, if nottreason?”

“When we were little,Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell usapart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other’s clothes and spend awhole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his firstsword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We wereso much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently.Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught tosmile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to besold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new ownerliked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly.Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.”

“I will remember, Your Grace,” said Sansa, though she had always heardthat love was a surer route to the people’s loyalty than fear. If I am ever aqueen, I’ll make them love me.

He is afraid, Tyrion realized, shocked. The Hound is frightened. He tried to

he had promised tosend them to Stannis. A man was not as heavy as a boulder or a cask ofburning pitch, and could be thrown a deal farther.

When he saw that, Davos Seaworth’s heart stopped beating.“No,” he said. “No, NOOOOOO!” Above the roar and crash of battle, noone heard him but Matthos. Certainly the captain of the Swordfish did not,intent as he was on finally spearing something with his ungainly fat sword.The Swordfish went to battle speed. Davos lifted his maimed hand to clutch atthe leather pouch that held his fingerbones.

Fortunately, there were few true pyromancers left. They will soon run out, SerImry had assured them.

A flash of green caught his eye, ahead and off to port, and a nest ofwrithing emerald serpents rose burning and hissing from the stern of QueenAlysanne. An instant later Davos heard the dread cry of “Wildfire!”

twin towers,

But where was the Lionstar? Where was the beautiful LadyLyanna that King Robert had named in honor of the maid he’d loved and lost?And where was King Robert’s Hammer? She was the largest war galley in theroyal fleet, four hundred oars, the only warship the boy king owned capableof overmatching Fury. By rights she should have formed the heart of anydefense.

All you know of life you learned from singers, andthere’s such a dearth of good sacking songs.”“True knights would never harm women and children.” The words ranghollow in her ears even as she said them.“True knights.” The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. “Nodoubt you’re right. So why don’t you just eat your broth like a good girl andwait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to comerescue you, sweetling. I’m sure it won’t be very long now.”

nd her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall.

and a boy noolder than Rickon, dressed in the fine linen tunic of a knight’s son.

“They say my brother Robb always goes where the fighting is thickest,”she said recklessly. “Though he’s older than Your Grace, to be sure. A mangrown.”

I ought to have sent you off with Tommen, now that Ithink on it. Still, you should be safe enough in Maegor’s, so long as—”

The miller’s boys had been of an age with Bran and Rickon,alike in size and coloring, and once Reek had flayed the skin from their facesand dipped their heads in tar, it was easy to see familiar features in thosemisshapen lumps of rotting flesh. People were such fools. If we’d said theywere rams’ heads, they would have seen horns.

He sent for Kyra, kicked shut the door, climbed on top of her, and fuckedthe wench with a fury he’d never known was in him. By the time he finished,she was sobbing, her neck and breasts covered with bruises and bite marks.Theon shoved her from the bed and threw her a blanket. “Get out.”

But there were others with faces he had never known in life, faces he hadseen only in stone. The slim, sad girl who wore a crown of pale blue roses anda white gown spattered with gore could only be Lyanna. Her brother Brandonstood beside her, and their father Lord Rickard just behind. Along the wallsfigures half-seen moved through the shadows, pale shades with long grimfaces. The sight of them sent fear shivering through Theon sharp as a knife.And then the tall doors opened with a crash, and a freezing gale blew downthe hall, and Robb came walking out of the night. Grey Wind stalked beside,eyes burning, and man and wolf alike bled from half a hundred savagewounds.

The music didnot seem so jolly then

“You ought to know, that’s the ugliest crown I’ve ever laid eyes on. Didyou make it yourself?”

Put Winterfell to the torch and fall back while you still can.”“No.” Theon adjusted his crown. “I took this castle and I mean to hold it.”

As he knelt to the block, the kennelmaster said,“M’lord Eddard always did his own killings.” Theon had to take the axehimself or look a weakling. His hands were sweating, so the shaft twisted inhis grip as he swung and the first blow landed between Farlen’s shoulders. Ittook three more cuts to hack through all that bone and muscle and sever thehead from the body, and afterward he was sick, remembering all the timesthey’d sat over a cup of mead talking of hounds and hunting. I had no choice,he wanted to scream at the corpse. The ironborn can’t keep secrets, they hadto die, and someone had to take the blame for it. He only wished he had killedhim cleaner. Ned Stark had never needed more than a single blow to take aman’s head.

Last of all, he donned his crown, a band of cold iron slim as a finger, setwith heavy chunks of black diamond and nuggets of gold. It was misshapenand ugly, but there was no help for that. Mikken lay buried in the lichyard,

The sky was a gloom of cloud, the woods dead and frozen. Roots grabbed atTheon’s feet as he ran, and bare branches lashed his face, leaving thin stripesof blood across his cheeks. He crashed through heedless, breathless, iciclesflying to pieces before him. Mercy, he sobbed. From behind came ashuddering howl that curdled his blood. Mercy, mercy. When he glanced backover his shoulder he saw them coming, great wolves the size of horses withthe heads of small children. Oh, mercy, mercy. Blood dripped from theirmouths black as pitch, burning holes in the snow where it fell. Every stridebrought them closer. Theon tried to run faster, but his legs would not obey.The trees all had faces, and they were laughing at him, laughing, and the howlcame again. He could smell the hot breath of the beasts behind him, a stink ofbrimstone and corruption. They’re dead, dead, I saw them killed, he tried toshout, I saw their heads dipped in tar,

Brienne pushed open the door and stepped inside the cell. “You called, mylady?”“Give me your sword.” Catelyn held out her hand.

“Snow, that was the one. Such a whitename ... like the pretty cloaks they give us in the Kingsguard when we swearour pretty oaths.”

In my own way, I have been truer than your Ned ever was. Poorold dead Ned. So who has shit for honor now, I ask you?

but he preferred toscorn the arse he found sitting on Robert’s throne. I think Ned Stark lovedRobert better than he ever loved his brother or his father ... or even you, mylady. He was never unfaithful to Robert, was he?”

Istood at the foot of the Iron Throne in my white armor and white cloak, fillingmy head with thoughts of Cersei. After, Gerold Hightower himself took measide and said to me, ‘You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.’That was the White Bull, loyal to the end and a better man than me, allagree.”

“The pyromancers roasted Lord Rickard slowly, banking and fanning thatfire carefully to get a nice even heat. His cloak caught first, and then hissurcoat, and soon he wore nothing but metal and ashes. Next he would start tocook, Aerys promised ... unless his son could free him. Brandon tried, but themore he struggled, the tighter the cord constricted around his throat. In theend he strangled himself.

“There were trials. Of a sort. Lord Rickard demanded trial by combat, andthe king granted the request. Stark armored himself as for battle, thinking toduel one of the Kingsguard. Me, perhaps. Instead they took him to the throneroom and suspended him from the rafters while two of Aerys’s pyromancerskindled a blaze beneath him. The king told him that fire was the champion ofHouse Targaryen. So all Lord Rickard needed to do to prove himself innocentof treason was ... well, not burn.

“Aerys accused them of treason and summonedtheir fathers to court to answer the charge, with the sons as hostages. Whenthey came, he had them murdered without trial. Fathers and sons both.”

“They strangled Brandon while his father watched, and then killed LordRickard as well.” An ugly tale, and sixteen years old. Why was he askingabout it now?“Killed, yes, but how?”“The cord or the axe, I suppose.”Jaime took a swallow, wiped his mouth. “No doubt Ned wished to spareyou. His sweet young bride, if not quite a maiden. Well, you wanted truth.Ask me. We made a bargain, I can deny you nothing. Ask.”“Dead is dead.” I do not want to know this.“Brandon was different from his brother, wasn’t he? He had blood in hisveins instead of cold water. More like me.”“Brandon was nothing like you.”“If you say so. You and he were to wed.”“He was on his way to Riverrun when ...” Strange, how telling it still madeher throat grow tight, after all these years. “... when he heard about Lyanna,and went to King’s Landing instead. It was a rash thing to do.” Sheremembered how her own father had raged when the news had been broughtto Riverrun. The gallant fool, was what he called Brandon.Jaime poured the last half cup of wine. “He rode into the Red Keep with afew companions, shouting for Prince Rhaegar to come out and die. But

“So many vows ... they makeyou swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Dohis bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protectthe innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. It’s toomuch. No matter what you do, you’re forsaking one vow or the other.” Hetook a healthy swallow of wine and closed his eyes for an instant, leaning hishead back against the patch of nitre on the wall. “I was the youngest man everto wear the white cloak.”

Petyr had sworn otherwise, Petyr who had been almost a brother, Petyrwho loved her so much he fought a duel for her hand ... and yet if Jaime and

If I had a knife,I would kill him now, she thought, until she remembered the girls. Her throatconstricted as she said, “You were a knight, sworn to defend the weak andinnocent.”

Catelyn wondered if he would dare answer her next question with anythingbut a lie. “How did my son Bran come to fall?”“I flung him from a window.”

He shrugged. “Joffrey is mine. As are the rest of Cersei’s brood, Isuppose.”

aime Lannister had been allowed no razor since the night he was taken inthe Whispering Wood, and a shaggy beard covered his face, once so like thequeen’s. Glinting gold in the lamplight, the whiskers made him look likesome great yellow beast, magnificent even in chains. His unwashed hair fellto his shoulders in ropes and tangles, the clothes were rotting on his body, hisface was pale and wasted ... and even so, the power and the beauty of theman were still apparent.

“I loved a maid as red as autumn,” Rymund sang, “with sunset inher hair.”

“I keep remembering the Stark words. Winter has come, Father. For me.For me. Robb must fight the Greyjoys now as well as the Lannisters, and forwhat? For a gold hat and an iron chair? Surely the land has bled enough. Iwant my girls back, I want Robb to lay down his sword and pick somehomely daughter of Walder Frey to make him happy and give him sons. Iwant Bran and Rickon back, I want ...” Catelyn hung her head. “I want,” shesaid once more, and then her words were gone.

Robb will avengehis brothers. Ice can kill as dead as fire. Ice was Ned’s greatsword.

“I want them all dead, Brienne. TheonGreyjoy first, then Jaime Lannister and Cersei and the Imp, every one, everyone. But my girls ... my girls will ...”

“And Arya, well ... Ned’s visitors would oft mistake her for a stableboy ifthey rode into the yard unannounced. Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half aboy and half a wolf pup. Forbid her anything and it became her heart’s desire.She had Ned’s long face, and brown hair that always looked as though a birdhad been nesting in it. I despaired of ever making a lady of her. She collectedscabs as other girls collect dolls, and would say anything that came into herhead. I think she must be dead too.”

“Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. Sheloved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had mylook, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, youcan see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. Shehad auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft ... the red in it wouldcatch the light of the torches and shine like copper

“I suppose Theon killed the wolves too. He must have,elsewise ... I was certain the boys would be safe so long as the direwolveswere with them. Like Robb with his Grey Wind. But my daughters have nowolves now.”

Theon Greyjoy has mounted their heads on the walls of Winterfell.Theon Greyjoy, who ate at my table since he was a boy of ten.”

When Catelyn tried to speak, the words caught in her throat. “I have no sonsbut Robb.”

I am become a sour woman, Catelynthought. I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have becomesuspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter

I cannot blame them, Catelyn thought. They do not know. And if they did,why should they care? They never knew my sons. Never watched Bran climbwith their hearts in their throats, pride and terror so mingled they seemed asone, never heard him laugh, never smiled to see Rickon trying so fiercely tobe like his older brothers.

“She has a baby in her belly, that’s all.

“I have neverliked you, Cersei, but you were my own sister, so I never did you harm.You’ve ended that. I will hurt you for this. I don’t know how yet, but give metime. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenlyyour joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid.”

and Alayaya bent over and kissed him on the brow.

“Whatever happens to her happens to Tommen aswell, and that includes the beatings and rapes.” If she thinks me such amonster, I’ll play the part for her.

Tyrion stared at the dregs on the bottom of his wine cup. What would Jaimedo in my place? Kill the bitch, most likely, and worry about the consequencesafterward. But Tyrion did not have a golden sword, nor the skill to wield one.He loved his brother’s reckless wrath, but it was their lord father he must tryand emulate. Stone, I must be stone, I must be Casterly Rock, hard and

now you plot to have Joff killed. You want him dead soyou can rule through Tommen.”

“Are you unwell, brother?” She leaned forward, giving him a good look atthe top of her breasts. “Suddenly you appear somewhat flustered.”

“Neither do you.” And don’t you just hate that, Cersei?

“He’s thirteen, Tyrion.”

“Or so he’d have you believe. You think you’re the only one he whisperssecrets to? He gives each of us just enough to convince us that we’d behelpless without him. He played the same game with me, when I first wedRobert. For years, I was convinced I had no truer friend at court, but now ...”She studied his face for a moment. “He says you mean to take the Houndfrom Joffrey.”

As the swan w

“Why must I suffer accusations every time some Starkstubs his toe?

Cersei made a sour face. “It was Jaime who threw him from that window,not me. For love, he said, as if that would please me. It was a stupid thing todo, and dangerous besides, but when did our sweet brother ever stop tothink?”“The boy saw you,” Tyrion pointed out.“He was a child. I could have frightened him into silence.”

Gods be good,” he said softly. “Both of them?”“I fear so, my lord. It is so sad. So grievous sad. And them so young andinnocent.”Tyrion remembered how the wolves had howled when the Stark boy hadfallen. Are they howling now, I wonder? “Have you told anyone else?” heasked.

“Skinchanger?” said Ebben grimly, looking at the Halfhand. Does he meanthe eagle? Jon wondered. Or me? Skinchangers and wargs belonged in OldNan’s stories, not in the world he had lived in all his life. Yet here, in thisstrange bleak wilderness of rock and ice, it was not hard to believe.“The cold winds are rising. Mormont feared as much. Benjen Stark felt it aswell. Dead men walk and the trees have eyes again. Why should we balk atwargs and giants?”

And the thing riding it was huge as well, and his shape waswrong, too thick in the leg and hips to be a man.

a shaggy lumbering beastwith a snake for a nose and tusks larger than those of the greatest boar thathad ever lived.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Hadhis brother always had three eyes?Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.

There were five of them when there should have been six, and they werescattered, each apart from the others. He felt a deep ache of emptiness, a senseof incompleteness. The forest was vast and cold, and they were so small, solost. His brothers were out there somewhere, and his sister, but he had losttheir scent.

Mance would sing it of old, when he came backfrom a ranging. He had a passion for wildling music. Aye, and for theirwomen as well.”“You knew him?”“We all knew him.” His voice was sad.They were friends as well as brothers,

I expect you’ll survive a bit of humiliation. Idid. You may never love the king, but you’ll love his children.”

In the end it took three of them to pull her away. And it was all for nothing.The bedclothes were burnt, but by the time they carried her off her thighswere bloody again. It was as if her own body had betrayed her to Joffrey,unfurling a banner of Lannister crimson for all the world to see.

But as she crouched there, on her hands and knees, understanding came.“No, please,” Sansa whimpered, “please, no.” She didn’t want this happeningto her, not now, not here, not now, not now, not now, not now.

Thenshe saw the bright glimmer of steel. The knife plunged into her belly and toreand tore and tore, until there was nothing left of her down there but shiny wetribbons.When she woke, the pale light of morning was slanting through herwindow, yet she felt as sick and achy as if she had not slept at all. There wassomething sticky on her thighs. When she threw back the blanket and saw theblood, all she could think was that her dream had somehow come true. Sheremembered the knives inside her, twisting and ripping. She squirmed awayin horror, kicking at the sheets and falling to the floor, breathing raggedly,naked, bloodied, and afraid.

There aregods, she told herself, and there are true knights too. All the stories can’t belies.

Sansa hugged herself, suddenly cold. “Why are you always so hateful? Iwas thanking you ...”

. A stab went through her, so sharp that Sansa sobbed andclutched at her belly.

“Gods preserve you, my little Jonquil.” He wasgrowing weepy. The wine did that to him. “Give your Florian a little kiss now.A kiss for luck.” He swayed toward her.Sansa dodged the wet groping lips, kissed him lightly on an unshavencheek, and bid him good night.

He could give her a quick clean death, at least. He was his father’s son.Wasn’t he? Wasn’t he?

“Do it,” she urged him after a moment. “Bastard. Do it. I can’t stay braveforever.” When the blow did not fall she turned her head to look at him.Jon lowered his sword. “Go,” he muttered.Ygritte stared.“Now,” he said, “before my wits return. Go.”She went.

One o’ his lords peeled the skin off him and worehim for a cloak.”

she threw herself from a tower in her grief.

Thirty yearslater, when Bael was King-beyond-the-Wall and led the free folk south, it wasyoung Lord Stark who met him at the Frozen Ford ... and killed him, for Baelwould not harm his own son when they met sword to sword.”“So the son slew the father instead,” said Jon.

“No. They had been in Winterfell all the time, hiding with the dead beneaththe castle.

Lord Brandon heard a child’s cry. Hefollowed the sound and found his daughter back in her bedchamber, asleepwith a babe at her breast.”

“Lord Brandon had no other children. At his behest, the black crows flewforth from their castles in the hundreds, but nowhere could they find any signo’ Bael or this maid.

But when morning come, the singerhad vanished ... and so had Lord Brandon’s maiden daughter. Her bed theyfound empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow whereher head had lain.”

‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairestflower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.’

harp in hand,

One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven whopreyed only on the weak. When word o’ that got back, Bael vowed to teachthe lord a lesson. So he scaled the Wall, skipped down the kingsroad, andwalked into Winterfell one winter’s night

“And she never sung you the songo’ the winter rose?”

She was older than he’d thought at first,Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty,

She is noolder than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though theylooked nothing at all alike.

grabbing the man by the hair andjamming the point of the knife up under his chin as he reached for his—no,her—His hand froze. “A girl.”

. Did Robb feel this way before hisfirst battle?

Even so, he did not think ofthe foes who were waiting for him, all unknowing, but of his brother atWinterfell. Bran used to love to climb. I wish I had a tenth part of hiscourage.

“The mountain is your mother,”

His lips look like two wormsfucking.

“The histories say the crannogmen grew closeto the children of the forest in the days when the greenseers tried to bring thehammer of the waters down upon the Neck. It may be that they have secretknowledge.”

A pity Ned Stark had taken hisdaughters south; elsewise Theon could have tightened his grip on Winterfellby marrying one of them. Sansa was a pretty little thing too, and by nowlikely even ripe for bedding. But she was a thousand leagues away, in theclutches of the Lannisters. A shame.

Reek stepped close. “Strip off their skins,” he urged, his thick lipsglistening. “Lord Bolton, he used to say a naked man has few secrets, but aflayed man’s got none.”The flayed man was the sigil of House Bolton, Theon knew; ages past,certain of their lords had gone so far as to cloak themselves in the skins ofdead enemies. A number of Starks had ended thus. Supposedly all that hadstopped a thousand years ago, when the Boltons had bent their knees toWinterfell. Or so they say, but old ways die hard, as well I know.

She’s as unnatural as Asha.Even their names sound alike.

There had to be two or more, he decided. While the woman wasentertaining Drennan, the others freed the wolves.

andthere had been a certain undeniable spice to fucking a common tavern wenchin Lord Eddard Stark’s own bed

His brother, however, he does not seem to miss at all.”

“They, hmmm, seem to be working better than they were.” Hallyne smiledweakly. “You don’t suppose there are any dragons about, do you?”“Not unless you found one under the Dragonpit. Why?”“Oh, pardon, I was just remembering something old Wisdom Pollitor toldme once, when I was an acolyte. I’d asked him why so many of our spellsseemed, well, not as effectual as the scrolls would have us believe, and he saidit was because magic had begun to go out of the world the day the last dragondied.

“There was a prince who tried that once,” said Tyrion dryly. “I haven’t seenany dragons rising over the city, so it would seem it didn’t work this timeeither.”

“It may be. Stannis burned the godswood at Storm’s Endas an offering to the Lord of Light.

His sister hadinsisted that Joffrey strip Blount of his white cloak on the grounds of treasonand cowardice. And now she replaces him with another man just as hollow.

Pleading illness, Lord Gulian Swann had remained inhis castle, taking no part in the war, but his eldest son had ridden with Renlyand now Stannis, while Balon, the younger, served at King’s Landing. If he’dhad a third son, Tyrion suspected he’d be off with Robb Stark.

Ser Balon Swann

That wood wasWinterfell. It was the north. I never felt so out of place as I did when I walkedthere, so much an unwelcome intruder. He wondered if the Greyjoys wouldfeel it too. The castle might well be theirs, but never that godswood. Not in ayear, or ten, or fifty.

Though perhaps it did not matter. Massive walls and talltowers had not saved Storm’s End, nor Harrenhal, nor even Winterfell.He remembered Winterfell as he had last seen it. Not as grotesquely hugeas Harrenhal, nor as solid and impregnable to look at as Storm’s End, yetthere had been a great strength in those stones, a sense that within those wallsa man might feel safe. The news of the castle’s fall had come as a wrenchingshock. “The gods give with one hand and take with the other,” he mutteredunder his breath when Varys told him. They had given the Starks Harrenhaland taken Winterfell, a dismal exchange.

PyatPree was gibbering in some unknown tongue and hopping from one foot tothe other.

Perched above her, the dragonspread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh toribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws,bright and hot. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, theirhigh thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead. Their flesh wascrumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced asthe flames consumed them; they staggered and writhed and spun and raisedblazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.

The Undying were all around her, blue and cold,whispering as they reached for her, pulling, stroking, tugging at her clothes,touching her with their dry cold hands, twining their fingers through her hair.All the strength had left her limbs. She could not move. Even her heart hadceased to beat. She felt a hand on her bare breast, twisting her nipple. Teethfound the soft skin of her throat. A mouth descended on one eye, licking,sucking, biting ...

Shadows whirled and danced inside a tent,boneless and terrible. A little girl ran barefoot toward a big house with a reddoor. Mirri Maz Duur shrieked in the flames, a dragon bursting from herbrow. Behind a silver horse the bloody corpse of a naked man bounced anddragged. A white lion ran through grass taller than a man. Beneath the Motherof Mountains, a line of naked crones crept from a great lake and kneltshivering before her, their grey heads bowed. Ten thousand slaves liftedbloodstained hands as she raced by on her silver, riding like the wind.“Mother!” they cried. “Mother, mother!” They were reaching for her,touching her, tugging at her cloak, the hem of her skirt, her foot, her leg, herbreast. They wanted her, needed her, the fire, the life, and Dany gasped andopened her arms to give herself to them ...

Then phantoms shivered through the murk, images in indigo. Viserysscreamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth. A talllord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fierystallion, a burning city behind him. Rubies flew like drops of blood from thechest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his lastbreath murmured a woman’s name.... mother of dragons, daughter ofdeath ... Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst acheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing,breathing shadow fire.... mother of dragons, slayer of lies ... Her silver wastrotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpsestood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smilingsadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with

... the shape of shadows ... morrows not yet made ... drink from the cup ofice ... drink from the cup of fire ...... mother of dragons ... child of three ...“Three?” She did not understand.... three heads has the dragon ... the ghost chorus yammered inside herskull with never a lip moving, never a breath stirring the still blue air....mother of dragons ... child of storm ... The whispers became a swirling song.... three fires must you light ... one for life and one for death and one tolove ... Her own heart was beating in unison to the one that floated before her,blue and corrupt ... three mounts must you ride ... one to bed and one todread and one to love ... The voices were growing louder, she realized, and itseemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath.... three treasons will youknow ... once for blood and once for gold and once for love ..

indigo light.

“We knew you were to come to us,” the wizard king said. “A thousandyears ago we knew, and have been waiting all this time. We sent the comet toshow you the way.”

“He has a song,” the man replied. “He is the prince that was promised, andhis is the song of ice and fire.” He looked up when he said it and his eyes metDany’s, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. “Theremust be one more,” he said, though whether he was speaking to her

Upon a towering barbed throne satan old man in rich robes, an old man with dark eyes and long silver-grey hair

Farther on she came upon a feast of corpses. Savagely slaughtered, thefeasters lay strewn across overturned chairs and hacked trestle tables, asprawlin pools of congealing blood. Some had lost limbs, even heads. Severed handsclutched bloody cups, wooden spoons, roast fowl, heels of bread. In a throneabove them sat a dead man with the head of a wolf. He wore an iron crownand held a leg of lamb in one hand as a king might hold a scepter, and hiseyes followed Dany with mute appeal.

and Shagwell kicked himdown into the bear pit.The bear is all in black, Arya thought. Like Yoren. She filled RooseBolton’s cup, and did not spill a drop.

Roose Bolton

“Nymeria,” she said. “Only she called me Nan for short.”“You will call me my lord when you speak to me, Nan,”

When he returned, he told them thatHarrenhal had been taken

“I do. My time is done.” Jaqen passed a hand down his face from foreheadto chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer;his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had beenbefore. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and halfwhite, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls.

“A girl might,” she said. “If a friend did help.”The knife vanished. “Come.”“Now?” She had never thought he would act so quickly.“A man hears the whisper of sand in a glass. A man will not sleep until agirl unsays a certain name. Now, evil child.”

. “It’s Jaqen H’ghar.”

till the Starks give him anarrow in the back for a wedding gift.”

Theon Greyjoy followed him into the bedchamber. “We’re not here to harmyou, Bran.”“Theon?” Bran felt dizzy with relief. “Did Robb send you? Is he here too?”

“At last word he was marching toward the Crag, the seat of HouseWesterling,”

Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die inchildbed. No one sings songs about them.”“Children are a battle of a different sort.” Catelyn started across the yard.“A battle without banners or warhorns, but no less fierce. Carrying a child,bringing it into the world ... your mother will have told you of the pain ...”

Our duty.” Catelyn’s face was drawn as she started across the yard. I havealways done my duty, she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord father hadalways cherished her best of all his children. Her two older brothers had bothdied in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to Lord Hoster untilEdmure was born. Then her mother had died and her father had told her thatshe must be the lady of Riverrun now, and she had done that too. And whenLord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for makingher such a splendid match.I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after hewas wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And whenBrandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did sogladly, though I never saw Ned’s face until our wedding day. I gave mymaidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his kingand the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty.

“Don’t you see the jest, Lord Varys?” Tyrion waved a hand at the shutteredwindows, at all the sleeping city. “Storm’s End is fallen and Stannis is comingwith fire and steel and the gods alone know what dark powers, and the goodfolk don’t have Jaime to protect them, nor Robert nor Renly nor Rhaegar northeir precious Knight of Flowers. Only me, the one they hate.” He laughedagain. “The dwarf, the evil counselor, the twisted little monkey demon. I’m

, and since that day I have hated magic and allthose who practice it. If Lord Stannis is one such, I mean to see him dead.”

And I never meant to strike you. Gods be good, am I turning into Cersei?

“Not now. Sweetling, I have ... well, call it the seed ofa plan. I think I might be able to bring you into the castle kitchens.”

Varys smiled, showing a mouth full of rotted teeth.

“Lord Varys has come to see you,” Shae announced.The begging brother blinked at her, astonished.

He was sick ofcaution.

“Lord Gyles will take him to Rosby,and conceal him there in the guise of a page. They plan to darken his hair andtell everyone that he is the son of a hedge knight.”

“They do not plan to climb the Wall nor to burrow beneath it, my lord.They plan to break it.”

“Ser Alliser Thorne will bring back freshlevies from King’s Landing, we can hope.

“They have wargs as well, and mammoths, and more strengththan we would have dreamed

“The Old Bear’s not like to give you a choice.”“Might be we won’t give him one,” said Chett.

I knew a brother drownedhimself in wine once. It was a poor vintage, though, and his corpse did notimprove it.”“You drank the wine?”“It’s an awful thing to find a brother dead. You’d have need of a drink aswell, Lord Snow.” Edd stirred the kettle and added a pinch more nutmeg.

Panting, she squatted and spread her legs. Blood ran down her thighs, blackas ink. Her cry might have been agony or ecstasy or both. And Davos saw thecrown of the child’s head push its way out of her. Two arms wriggled free,grasping, black fingers coiling around Melisandre’s straining thighs, pushing,until the whole of the shadow

There are no shadows inthe dark.

But here ... thisStorm’s End is an old place. There are spells woven into the stones. Darkwalls that no shadow can pass—ancient, forgotten, yet still in place.”

“If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good, orhe is evil.”

“Are you a good man, Davos Seaworth?” she asked.Would a good man be doing this? “I am a man,” he said. “I am kind to mywife, but I have known other women. I have tried to be a father to my sons, tohelp make them a place in this world. Aye, I’ve broken laws, but I never feltevil until tonight. I would say my parts are mixed, m’lady. Good and bad.”“A grey man,” she said. “Neither white nor black, but partaking of both. Isthat what you are, Ser Davos?”“What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey.”

A thousand flickering campfiresburned around the castle, as the fires of the Tyrells and Redwynes had sixteenyears before. But all the rest was different.The last time it was life I brought to Storm’s End, shaped to look likeonions. This time it is death, in the shape of Melisandre of Asshai.

Yet they require me to make them true, he thought. It had been a long timesince Davos Seaworth felt so sad.

Davos wanted to protest. He was a knight now, no longer a smuggler, andhe had never been an assassin. Yet when he opened his mouth, the wordswould not come. This was Stannis, his just lord, to whom he owed all he was.And he had his sons to consider as well. Gods be good, what has she done to

but Melisandre told me that if I went to Storm’sEnd, I would win the best part of my brother’s power, and she was right.”“B-but,” Davos stammered, “Lord Renly only came here because you hadlaid siege to the castle. He was marching toward King’s Landing before,against the Lannisters, he would have—”

“So did my brother, the day before his death. The night is dark and full ofterrors, Davos.”

Celtiga

I swear, I will go to my grave thinking of mybrother’s peach.”

“I dreamof it sometimes. Of Renly’s dying. A green tent, candles, a woman screaming.And blood.” Stannis looked down at his hands. “I was still abed when he died.

“As the gods will it. Bring on your storm, my lord—and recall, if you do,the name of this castle.” Ser Cortnay gave a pull on his reins and rode backtoward the gate.

“And cast it in the same fire where you left your manhood?”

“A lie,” Ser Cortnay said. “I knew Brienne when she was no more than agirl playing at her father’s feet in Evenfall Hall, and I knew her still betterwhen the Evenstar sent her here to Storm’s End. She loved Renly Baratheonfrom the first moment she laid eyes on him, a blind man could see it.”

Lady Oakheart

“I know you for a man of ambition,” Ser Cortnay broke in. “A man whochanges kings and gods the way I change my boots. As do these otherturncloaks I see before me.”