After about twenty steps, the corridor widened into a hollow. With only the glowing gem as a light source, it was impossible to say how big it was. Davos followed the left wall, so that he would not walk in circles.

Suddenly, he saw a shadow at his right side. Immediately, he pointed the light at it, as if to ward it off, but it had already passed by him and disappeared deeper in the cave. Mother have Mercy, he prayed, although he did not believe that the Seven had power here.

Shivering, Davos kept going. He had barely walked five steps when a second shadow moved past him, this time in a greater distance. From that moment on, they were his constant silent companions, always coming from behind him and vanishing in the same direction he was going. They looked vaguely human. After a while, he found their presence almost comforting. Everything was better than walking here all alone.

Davos wondered how he would ever find his king. He did not even know what he was looking for; he just continued walking and hoped that Melisandre's god would somehow make him find Stannis. R'hllor had sent him here, and he obviously wanted Stannis alive because he was the Lord's Chosen. But Gods make for unsure allies at best...

He did not dare stop walking because he knew that there was a thin line between resting and turning back. His breath froze in his beard; Davos could feel the ice when he moved his head. It was all he could do to keep the panic at bay, though his heart was in his throat. He knew if he panicked, he would run, and then he would get lost and might never find the way to the surface again. Davos did not mean to die here, amongst the souls of the long dead.

The cold seemed to be inside him as well as around him and he had taken to holding Melisandre's ruby to his mouth so he did not have to breathe frozen air. Seeing it was bliss, the only colour in this black world. Davos remembered the day the Red Woman had let him keep the torch in his prison cell. He had hated feeling grateful towards her.

She was right. Without this gem the cold would have consumed me by now.

Touching the cave with his left hand, holding the ruby in his right, he tried to see something other than darkness. A clue, a sign to tell him where to go next.

Instead, he saw a shadow before him. Something seemed wrong about it, somehow. A moment later Davos realised what it was. The shadow was coming towards him.

It moved more slowly than any of the previous ones, and when it was no more than three steps away from him, it stopped and Davos could make out something like a face. It was a face he knew.

'Matthos', he whispered.

He was still not moving and did nothing to show if he had heard him.

Like the other shadows, he was blacker than the darkness, and did not seem to walk as much as float over the ground, somehow. But this was the first time Davos was close enough to see a face. It was pitch black too, the eyes, the mouth, the hair, everything. Yet the forms and shapes were the same, unmistakably.

My son.

Davos was about to close the distance between them, wanting to believe that this really was Matthos, whose face he had missed so much for so long...

Then he heard a voice behind him. A thousand voices, all in one, some whispering, some screaming, all forming one word.

'Father.'

The sound sent a shiver down his spine. He turned around, and saw another shadow. It was Allard.

'Yes', Davos said. 'Yes, it's me, I am here.'

He wanted nothing more than to run to him and embrace him, and never let go again. But he did not dare, he was scared they would fade and vanish again as soon as he touched them. He had lost them before. So he just stood there, drinking in the sight of his sons with his eyes. The next time Allard spoke, he saw his mouth move. Only the mouth, his hands and his eyes stayed still.

'Take me with you, father. Bring me back.'

Again it was not Allard he heard but a thousand tongues, though Davos thought he heard his son's voice between all the others.

'I want to see my wife again.' A third shape. Dale.

Davos could feel tears freezing on his face though he could not remember shedding them.

'I'm sorry, I am so sorry.', he said, voice trembling.

'Why are you here father, without being dead?' Matthos had always been the one with the most common sense. Davos remembered the thousand questions he had used to ask when he had been a little boy.

'The father should protect his children, I am so sorry...'

'Can you bring me back, father? I want to be a knight!' It was unsettling hearing the words of his sons said in the tongues of a thousand strangers.

'I am so sorry, I want nothing more than to bring you back, but I cannot. I cannot!'

'It is so dark here.' Who had said that? Davos was not sure.

'Your bodies are gone, you cannot come back. I am here to save the king!'

He said that more to convince himself than anyone else. But how could he ever search for Stannis if that would mean leaving his sons? He had not seen them for so long, he did not know if he had the strenght to say goodbye.

'The dead cannot leave.' Matthos said.

'I have to try, I have to, Gods be good, I am so sorry! Please...'

'The way out is closed to the dead..' The voice was fading. Terrified, Davos realised that the shadows, no, his sons were gliding away from him, deeper into the cave.

'Don't leave me! Please!' It was all he could do to stumble after them. Both his cheeks were crusted with ice from his tears. He could see glimpses of the shadows now and again, but they got less and less frequent until he was in shadowless blackness once again.

I lost them again.

My sons, gods be good, my sons...

Breathing was becoming difficult, he was crying again. Or was it still? He had cried so much in the last days. The air was so cold, it felt like it was suffocating him. Whichever way he turned, all he found was black. Where was he? What should he do now? He was shivering violently, yet if that was from the sobs or from the cold, he could not say.

I am panicking, he realised.

As always, his hand grasped at his chest.

He felt the warmth in his hand and somehow, that calmed him a little. He looked at the gem. It was like food for his starved eyes. Davos felt like he could stare at it forever.

I am not alone in the dark.

Holding the ruby to his face, he began to breathe more slowly.

I should feel privileged. Not many people have the chance to speak to their dead loved ones for a last time.

But they didn't say they forgive me.

Davos knew they had no reason to. He had led them into the fire. Now he had found them again, but he could not help them.

Shaking his head resolutely, he tried to banish these thoughts from his mind. He had to focus on his task. His duty.

With his faint light source, Davos found the wall to his left again and carried on walking in the same direction his sons had gone.