The following day, Daenerys Targaryen stood on the deck of a ship, watching King's Landing grow closer and closer. She could hardly believe it. After all these years, she was finally about to set foot in the city that should have been hers by rights.
"I've dreamed of this day all my life," she said to Brian, who was standing next to her. "Sailing into King's Landing to take back my throne from Robert the Usurper. Only difference is, I'm facing down Robert's son instead of Robert himself."
"Remember, we're not here to fight him today," Brian reminded her. "We're just here to talk to him."
Martin the Warrior stood on Dany's other side. He stared in awe at the Red Keep. "So, that's where your ancestors lived? Wow, what a place! If I lived in a big red castle like that, I'd never have to worry about vermin again! I can't wait to see the inside of it!"
"Well, we're not going inside just yet," Tyrion told him. "In his reply to my letter, Joffrey wrote that he wanted to meet in the Dragonpit rather than the castle itself."
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The Dragonpit was a giant arena. It was where the ancient Targaryen kings used to house their dragons, before they all died out. Right now, Joffrey was making his way there, walking through the city streets, accompanied by his council and Gregor Clegane.
Unbeknownst to Joffrey, Asha Greyjoy and the three Sand Snakes were watching him from an alleyway. The four girls had secretly arrived in the city the day before. They were all armed to the teeth. Asha had an axe and a dirk, Obara had a short spear, Nymeria had a whip, and Tyene had a few knives and a pair of knitting needles that were coated with poison.
Now, seeing Joffrey pass by, Obara pulled her spear from beneath her dress, where it had been concealed. "I've got the perfect shot!"
Nymeria stayed her sister's hand. "Wait, sister. We can't kill him in the middle of the street like this, or we'll be caught."
"We should sneak into his palace while he's away," Tyene agreed. "We can hide in there and when he comes back, we'll assassinate him in secret."
"And in the meantime, I can look for my sister," Asha chimed in. "If she's still alive, she must be held in the dungeons."
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Joffrey's party arrived at the Dragonpit first and took their seats. Presently Joffrey's Uncle Tyrion entered the arena, followed by Brian Griffin, then Varys.
When Joffrey saw the eunuch, he sneered. "So, this is where you've been all this time. Gone over to the enemy, have you? Well, good riddance! I've got Qyburn doing your job now. You always made yourself seem so indispensable, but it turned out that your little birds would sing for anyone, as long as they were paid."
Varys did not answer, but Joffrey's attention was distracted by the next arrival: Sandor Clegane.
"Well, well. My faithful dog. Not so faithful after all, were you? So, you're working for Daenerys now too?"
The Hound wasn't looking at Joffrey. He was staring at his brother Gregor. Gregor's face was covered by his helmet, but the Hound still recognized him because of his size. "I'm not workin' for Daenerys Targaryen," Sandor said. "I'm workin' for her." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Joffrey looked where he was pointing and saw Lois Griffin striding into the arena!
"You!" he gasped. "I thought you were dead!"
"Us Griffins are hard to kill," Lois replied raspily.
"Well, where is Daenerys Targaryen?" Joffrey demanded. "I thought I was coming here to meet her!"
A shadow fell over the sky. Joffrey looked up and saw the three dragons in the air. Dany was riding Drogon, Meg was riding Rhaegal, and Stewie was riding Viserion. A wet stain appeared on the front of Joffrey's pants.
The dragons landed in the arena. Dany and Meg dismounted, but Stewie remained on Viserion. "You'll have to forgive me for not getting up, but I don't have my wheelchair with me," he said.
For the first time, Daenerys and Joffrey had come face to face. The two enemies stared into each other's eyes.
"Hello, Son of the Usurper," Dany said calmly.
"I'm not the usurper- you are!" Joffrey shouted.
Brian quickly stepped between them. "It doesn't matter. Your struggle for the Iron Throne is like two rats on a sinking ship fighting over who gets to be captain. I don't like you, Joffrey. You killed the closest thing to a father I've ever known. But there's a greater threat coming for us all from beyond the Wall."
"That's right," said Tyrion. "One million people all live crammed together in this city. They will soon become a million more soldiers in the army of the dead."
"That will likely be an improvement for most of them," Joffrey said callously.
Brian was angered by his flippancy. "How can you say that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I know your game," Joffrey scoffed. "You're just trying to scare me. It's all a ploy to make me lower my defenses."
"This is no trick," Dany said. "I didn't believe it at first when Brian told me, but now I've seen the White Walkers with my own eyes, along with the wights they create. We're telling the truth, and we have proof!"
Then Martin, Hayley, Jeff, and Gendry came into the arena, dragging a crate. They started to pry it open. Joffrey watched with unease.
The captured wight came bursting out of the crate and charged toward Joffrey. Joffrey screamed. The wight's claws were inches from Joffrey's face when Martin came up behind it and chopped it in half with his sword. The two halves fell to the ground, but the upper half continued to move, screeching and snarling.
Joffrey was huddled in a ball on his chair, dignity completely gone. "Get that thing away from me!" he whimpered.
"As you can see, ordinary swords won't kill a wight," said Brian. "You have to use either dragonglass or fire."
The wight's top half was trying to crawl toward Hayley now. She brought her sword down on his arm, cutting off one of his hands. The severed hand continued to move on its own.
"Fascinating," Qyburn breathed. He was the only council member who didn't appear afraid.
Dany scooped up the wight's hand and tossed it to Drogon. Drogon incinerated it with his fire. Then Brian stabbed the wight's torso with his dragonglass dagger, killing it.
"How many o' them things are there?" Gideon asked fearfully.
"At least 100,000," said Stewie. "They take their orders from the White Walkers, monsters made of ice. And the White Walkers take orders from Bill Cipher."
At this, Joffrey stopped panicking. "Oh, I'm not afraid of Bill," he said. "Bill is a friend of mine."
This was the last thing Brian had expected to hear. "What? Did you say Bill Cipher was your friend? Bill is no one's friend!"
"Oh yes, he is," Joffrey argued. "He warned me when the Tyrells were plotting against me. If he's the one controlling the White Walkers, I've got nothing to fear from them."
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Meanwhile in Oldtown, Steve Smith was enduring some negotiations of his own.
After taking his leave of his father, he had journeyed to the Citadel, to begin his studies to become a maester. He attended classes all day, and stayed in an off-campus apartment with Gilly and Steve Jr. at night. He had an important examination tomorrow, which he didn't feel prepared for at all. He had heard another student named Skillix had a copy of the exam paper. If he could get his hands on it, then he'd know what the questions were going to be, and he could figure out the answers and pass. But Skillix wasn't going to give him the question paper without a price.
"50 gold dragons, and that's my final offer."
"But Skillix," said Steve, "I told you, I haven't got 50 dragons."
"Then stop wasting my time, runt." Skillix sneered and turned away.
Steve lunged forwards after him. "Don't go!" he cried, clinging onto Skillix's robes.
"Get off me!" Skillix said, twisting round and swatting Steve away like a bug.
"You've gotta let me have it," Steve persisted. He dragged a pouch from his pocket and jangled it loudly. "I've got 38 dragons here, and I can get you the other 12 next week."
"Call it 20 and I might be interested," Skillix said.
Steve's face fell. "20? But you said… I can't… That's way too much…"
"As you please," said Skillix, and turned away again.
This time Steve didn't try to stop him. His eagerness to buy had alerted Skillix to the value of the paper he was trying to sell. Now he would probably find someone else who would be willing to pay twice as much. It wasn't fair.
"Seven hells," Steve muttered miserably, and held his head in his hands. "What am I gonna do now?"
"So far as I can see, you have two choices," said a deep, throaty voice behind him.
Steve looked round to see Gerald Dayne standing there. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I couldn't help overhearing about your little difficulty," Gerald said, "and I am in a position to help you out."
"You mean you've got another copy of the questions on the test?" said Steve.
"Better than that," said Gerald. "I've got the answers."
Steve was speechless. It was one thing to look at the questions before the test, but buying the actual answers would be taking it to a whole nother level. "Isn't that cheating?" he asked.
"Perhaps," said Gerald. "But everyone cheats. Did you know that Grand Maester Pycelle never actually attended any classes here? Instead, he paid someone to take his classes for him, and he got all the credit and became the Grand Maester to the king. So, buying the answers to a single test doesn't seem so bad in comparison."
"I dunno," Steve mumbled. "How much are you asking for them? I've only got…"
"Oh, I don't want money," Gerald interrupted. "I only want the horn that's in your backpack."
Steve had indeed kept the horn he'd found in the snow beyond the Wall inside his backpack all this time. "What do you want that for?" he said. "How'd you even know about it?"
"My reasons are none of your concern," said Gerald. "Have we got a deal?"
Steve hesitated. Slowly, he slipped his backpack off his shoulders. He unzipped it. He pulled out the horn. It was such a small thing, really. After all, what use did he have for it himself? And even if he bought the answers, he didn't have to look at them. He could just hold on to them, just in case.
Steve didn't know that the horn was the true Horn of Joramun. Gerald was working for Bill, and he wanted the horn so he could bring down the Wall.
"All right," Steve said at last. "Here you go."
Gerald handed Steve a packet of paper, and Steve gave Gerald the horn.
Gerald raised the horn to his lips… and blew.