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Chapter 5: The Sword Remembers
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Chapter 7: You’re Not Alone in That Skull
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... it, stale penny, edged with something thinner, less alive, before he managed to peel open his eyes.
The air hung heavy, a stew of old sweat and newer fear, thicker than the frost limning every bunk rafter in the barracks.
For a while he stared straight ahead, watching the pink salt of sunrise creep across the blackened stone, and measured the ache in his ribs. Just to check they were all still there. He tried a slow breath.
Pain hummed all the way down, then petered out ...
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