A Ghost in the House of Iron

Chapter Twenty-Two

Someone is shaking me, but sleep still clings to my body, holding me fast. I groan, rolling away from the disruptive hands on my shoulders and sinking back into my dreams.

"Sindred! Wake up." Aisling jerks me more sharply this time. "It's him! Sin, it's definitely him. Get up!"

I blink groggily up at her in the dimly lit room. "Wha-? Where…?"

I'm in a strange bed with a lumpy mattress and very rough sheets. I don't remember falling asleep in this sparsely furnished room, and realize with an ache of embarrassment that Aisling must have tucked me into bed after I passed out in the back room of the tavern, lulled by the warm, heavy fog that was the gift of mead. I find out now just how terrible the price of such a gift is, as I try to sit up and my head explodes with sharp pain.

"Come on, kid," Aisling says, giving me a pitying smile. "You gotta get back to the palace. Aurelius is waiting right outside. Come on, up!"

It's before dawn, I notice. Outside of the small bedroom window I can see the sky starting to lighten into a deep gray-blue above the city rooftops. I keep one hand pressed firmly into my pounding skull as I follow Aisling out of the room.

"I can't believe it's actually him, Sin!" she says excitedly, but I'm still too dazed to form a response.

She gives me a hunk of bread to eat, and I nibble at it gratefully as we go down two narrow flights of stairs and end up back in the empty meeting room. There are four large, unstoppered clay jugs on the round table along with our two small cups. No wonder my head hurts with such fury.

The main room of the tavern is also mostly uninhabited at this hour. A few slumped forms are sleeping in corners or bent forward in their chairs. I hear sporadic, grumbling snores. From here, I know the way out back out of the tavern.

"I can't go with you," Aisling says. "Too much to do here. Aurelius will fill you in on what you've missed, and I'll stop by with a new report as soon as I can."

I nod, words continuing to evade me.

"Oh, and, kid? Sneak into the apothecary and make yourself one of Ezebel's green drinks. Extra goblin root. That's the best trick for this kind of thing."

"Thanks," I say, my voice coming out a husky whisper.

She smiles and waves to me as I carefully make my way down another dark flight of stairs, feeling oafish and clumsy from the swirling headache and lingering heaviness of sleep.

Aurelius is standing in the alleyway, leaning awkwardly against the damp stone wall. He jumps into an upright posture as I step outside, straightening his coat.

"Sindred! Good. We can go," he says, a note of impatience in his tone.

"You have news?" I ask, trying not to show any signs of my current state. The wind is bitingly cold, and I savor the rush of clarity it provides.

He gestures for me to follow him. "I'll explain, but come. We must be cautious. There are Ironborn patrols all over the city."

"What?" A jolt of fear runs through me, and my entire body tenses. "Who are they looking for?"

"Someone broke into the queen's chambers. Aisling told me you'd know who it likely was. The Ironborn are searching for the trespasser." Aurelius gives me a pained look. "They claim it was a faerie assassin."

"Faerie?" I ask, my voice suddenly tiny and high-pitched.

"We must be vigilant, but we have to hurry. The king needs us."

We keep to the darker alleys, winding our way through the city towards the kitchen gates of the palace. I glance up at the sky periodically, looking for the glint of the Ironborn's gold plated armor as they fly by.