Chapter 12: Down the Ash

Jon walked toward his children's apartments. Dany constantly hounded him on being more involved in his children's lives and she was right. He knew she was. He was constantly swamped with work. Nobody had ever told him being king was such a chore. He always found it difficult to find time for the children. He tried to. He tried to take after his uncle/father, Ned. Ned too had spent most of his time with his duties. But he had always managed to find a few minutes with each of his children. Even the 'bastard'.

He entered to find his children hard at work, doing their lessons. Septa Reggia stood sentinel over them. The old woman wasn't smiling. She never smiled. Rhaegar said she looked like a sour prune.

Marianne Waters was standing guard today. Ever since the attack one Queensguard was always on duty in the children's rooms. This usually didn't bother them. The septa and Grand Maester often allowed them to participate in the children's instruction.

"Daddy!" the two cried joyfully. Rhaegar and Catelyn once again took their lessons together. They jumped up as if to rush into his arms. Ned and his sister Rhaella were in the nursery with the wet nurse.

"Enough of that!" Reggia wasn't going to let them get away with slacking.

The children resentfully returned to their lesson while Jon smiled. The Grand Maester was normally expected to oversee the children's education, but Ebrose usually found some excuse to be elsewhere. Though Jon had tried to get another maester sent to Dragonstone, the Conclave argued that there weren't enough left. They were not wrong in this. Maesters, like Small Folk and High Born, were greatly diminished thanks to the Long Night.

"Septa Reggia, I wish to be alone with my children."

"As you wish your grace."

That was one good thing about Reggia, she was not prone to argument. She left the room followed by Waters.

Jon pulled up a chair and sat down opposite them. The two were engaged in some writing exercise. Jon did not possess the talent of reading upside down, so had no idea what task Ebrose had set them. What he did see was Cat having tremendous difficulty. Her penmanship was once something she was most proud of. Now it was barely legible.

Catelyn was not recovering well from the attack. Ebrose had healed her hand well enough that it looked normal. But her fingers were no longer bending as they should. This caused her no end of frustration. In an all too common event, Cat began to break down.

Jon reached over and clasped her hand. Their eyes met. Neither spoke. Jon took the pen from her, manipulated her fingers with his own causing her to gasp in pain, then took the pen again and placed it in her fingers. He shaped her fingers to match as closely as he could how she used to write. He then held her fingers in place. Doing his best not to interfere, he encouraged her to start writing again. She moved much more slowly than before, yet now she was able to produce a sentence more alike to how she once did.

She wept from sheer relief. He brother hugged her.

Catelyn returned to her room after finishing her lessons, unaware her father was following her. She sat on her bed, taking the rubber ball Ebrose had given her. She tried her best, as she always did. But her fingers refused to do what she wanted. They just wouldn't bend.

She dropped the ball and started crying again. The ball bounced a couple of times, then stopped. Footsteps moved toward her. She looked up to find her father staring down at her.

Without speaking, he sat down next to her. Once again, he took her hand in his. He placed the ball in her hand. Then he squeezed her fingers around it. She cried out in pain, but he didn't stop. He released his grip and her fingers sprang back, dropping the ball into his other hand. He repeated the exercise again and again. Tears streamed down her face freely. But she did not ask him to stop.

Finally, he curled her fingers around the ball and released them. Her fingers did not spring back. They continued gripping the ball. She cried out in delight. She released her hold, allowing the ball to drop. This time she cried for joy. She flung her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. He embraced her, kissing her on the head.

Not all Jon's activities over the following days were so pleasant.

Davos and Jaqen met him in the palace gardens. "I can't explain it," he told them. "All we've had are letters of sympathy."

Davos didn't understand his concern. "Isn't that what you'd want?"

"Of course. But we don't delude ourselves in believing we are universally loved. All the lords, the Small Folk, even the High Septum himself have expressed nothing but kindness and love for our little Catelyn. Seven Hells, even the magisters of Pentos and the Sea Lord himself have declared their best wishes."

"And you don't trust them." Davos didn't intend to sound reproachful. But he couldn't keep a certain disapproval out of his voice.

Jaqen was never one to dance around a subject. "His grace believes there is dissembling among this sympathy."

"You're sure this woman attacked Cat out of a prearranged plan? To what purpose?"

"There can be only one reason."

"The Wyls are the only ones who dared rise against you."

"They are hardly the only ones who wanted to."

"I still don't see how harming Catelyn advances this objective."

"Nor do I. That is what I need from you."

The two men thought that over. Davos spoke first. "I already have men infiltrating the Faith. I will instruct them to find any connection they can between Septa Annis and any malcontents."

"That is hardly sufficient." Jaqen held a dim view of others' prowess. Davos frequently found himself at odds with the Faceless Man. "If the woman was placed within the household of his grace it is safe to assume that she had a different task to perform."

Jon asked, "What are you saying? That crippling Cat wasn't why she was here?"

"A man thinks the attack upon his grace's daughter was unintended. It is of more likelihood that the attack was the result of unforeseen anger. A man thinks the septa's purpose here was primarily to watch and report."

"A spy."

"It seems most likely. If so then those who sent the septa are planning a different course now that their agent has been removed."

Davos didn't like where this was leading. "Are you suggesting the High Septum is behind this?"

"One must not dismiss the possibility. History teaches us that his grace's family encountered much antipathy from the Faith of Seven. One must not trust expressions of sympathy."

"Nor do I." Jon made his decision. "I want you to take care of this personally. Find out what the High Septum intends. If he is responsible I want to know about it."

Arya and her party left Asshai the day after her encounters with Pamadika and Tú Sab Hēv. In spite of the lack of any road or path they found travel easy. There was no ground cover. The ground itself was made of shingle. Marwin pronounced it the ejecta of a volcano, whatever that meant.

The smell was hideous. The stench of rotten eggs was everywhere. Brimstone and ash. There were times when the wind wafted from the north that they were almost overcome by it.

Not that there was much wind. The heat was stifling. Nor was there much light. Even in the middle of the day the clouds would not dissipate. Only when the sun was at zenith was it visible and even then only as a hazy disk in the sky.

They kept to the Ash River so as not to lose their way.

"If there is anywhere from the Seven Hells this is it," pronounced Alys.

"No," Arya replied. "I've been there and this is not it."

"What do you mean?" asked Brienne. But as always on this topic Arya shut her mouth.

They traveled for days in this bleak landscape. Seeing nothing but the same black and gray stone in all directions with nothing but an occasional weed to break the monotony. The banks of the river were low and flat. It was a river valley with steep sides, the tops vanishing into the perpetual clouds. Fortunately they didn't have to travel in the clouds. But there were times when the clouds descended upon them to become a vile, stinking fog. The smell alone was enough to make them vomit and leave them without appetite for days.

Arya had them all wear their full panoply. This made the heat almost unbearable. Brienne wouldn't allow them to shed any of it. It proved to be good judgement.

They were camping near the river, the water itself giving off a sickly green glow. Because of this none of them wanted to get any nearer to it than they had too. They were a mere two days travel from Asshai. Joella and Alys had the watch.

Despite having walked the entire day, Arya couldn't sleep. She wandered over to where Alys stood vigil. There was no fire for there was no wood to burn. Besides, it was too hot anyway. Thus the only light was from the river itself.

"Your grace?" Alys asked.

"Don't mind me," Arya replied. She stared out into the inky blackness, seeing nothing.

Alys spoke shyly, as if afraid of her very words. "If you need help to sleep I'm sure… one of us could help you."

Arya looked over at her. She could tell the other woman was blushing despite the darkness. This amused her. Arya knew Alys had fantasies, as every woman did. She had never asked what they entailed, but had noticed the other woman glancing surreptitiously at her when she thought no one was looking.

"No thank you."

Sex was the last thing on her mind. Brienne had asked, "Why did the woman's question bother you so much?"

"I don't know. Maybe I miss them more than I thought. I hadn't realized I was being so obvious about it."

"You're not. I think that bitch must have some power."

"To read thoughts? I got that impression from the man, Tú Sab Hēv."

"Then perhaps we should have as little to do with them as possible."

Good advice, but hardly practical. Arya knew they were going to have to confront both of them before they left Asshai.

The instinct she had developed kicked in. Arya sensed more than saw movement around them. She sent out her mind, something that was now second nature to her, and found a small mouse scuttling among the rocks. Projecting herself into the mouse, she saw through its eyes men moving through the darkness. They were marching on the camp, moving as silently as ghosts.

"Alys." Arya spoke with the tone of command. "Wake the others."

Confused, but obedient, Alys went to shake the others awake. In the meantime, Arya drew her blades. The sound of metal on metal was enough to bring all of her people to their feet. Evidently, Arya wasn't the only one with trouble sleeping.

Not a moment too soon. From out of the darkness came men dressed in red. The all wore lacquered masks and every exposed patch of skin was tattooed. The men had an extraordinary assortment of weapons; spears, clubs, axes, swords and other things the Westerosi had never seen before. Most were of rusty iron, but a few were even of bronze.

There were scores of them, but they were no match for the Westerosi and their Valyrian steel. The fight lasted only minutes before the strange men fled back into the dark. They left a dozen of their number bleeding their lives away on the ground.

Marwin, with his usual talent for removing himself from danger, reappeared from his hiding place near the river. "Shadow Men." He examined the body closest to him. "I have heard many stories, but I have never seen one up close."

"Dany told me she had seen some in Vaes Dothrak."

"Did she speak to any of them?"

"Of course not."

"Pity. She might have learned something."

"From what I heard, they only spew gibberish and then only if you pay them."

Marwin ignored her and continued his examination. There wasn't much he could find in the dim light and none of his companions was willing to drag a body closer to the river. In the end he made notes of the tattoos on the bodies and left it at that.

Arya wasn't willing to remain camped with the stinking, unwashed corpses. So they shifted several hundred yards farther upstream.

That was only the first attack. In the days following the Shadow Men assaulted them several more times. Each time they drove the attackers off without too much trouble. Mostly, their aggressors stuck to hurling javelins and rocks and then running away.

Yimi asked in a mystified voice, "How can they live in this place? Nothing lives here."

Marwin replied, "Even in the most barren parts of Dorne you will find people. Don't underestimate the ability to find food for those desperate enough."

"True." Arya was thinking of the mouse she'd skinchanged. "The land is not nearly so empty of life as you imagine. Remember, we are near the river. I'm guessing little can survive here. Beyond its reach there is bound to be more water. And the clouds are also likely to be thinner the more you move away. Ghost grass is supposed to exist in the region somewhere."

"I have seen it. Still, I suspect the Shadow Men actually live mostly on the fringes of the mountains."

Brienne asked, "So why are they here?" He shrugged.

"They are here to kill anyone who attempts to go north of the city," Arya answered in the tone of one saying the obvious.

"Why?" to which she received no reply.

That night Arya sat on a rock cleft overlooking the sickly green water as the others made camp. Brienne wandered over. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you."

"What is it?"

"I meant to ask for a while now, but I guess it slipped my mind."

"Are you going to ask or not?"

"What was it you and Snowflake saw out in the Gray Waste?"

Arya was surprised by the question. "You ask me that now?"

"I guess these attacks by the Shadow Men reminded me."

Arya returned to her contemplation and shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing maybe."

"A dragon isn't afraid of nothing."

"True." Arya was silent for some time. "I'm not sure what it was. The sand was moving. Not like with the wind. Something… something big… underneath it. Maybe it was men camouflaged to look like the desert. Maybe it was something else."

"It had to have been pretty big to make Snowflake hesitate."

"Maybe. I never asked her."

Brienne shook her head. She still couldn't wrap her head around what Arya was saying. "You never explain that."

"Nor will I."

Arya had no desire to tell anyone about skinchanging, warging, or how it all allowed her to communicate with dragons. It was hard enough just getting Dany to accept it.

It was near a fortnight before they finally reached the vicinity of Stygai. The Shadow Men gradually stopped their attacks so that by the time they caught sight of the city they were left alone. Their first sight gave them chills. They stood on a low hill. The city filled the valley before them. Choking black smoke seemed to rise from the center of it. This turned even the middle of the day into blackest night. Nothing living was visible.

The city itself was made of white stone, or at least it would be white if not for the black smoke enveloping it. High walls surrounded it, towering higher than any they had ever seen. The walls appeared to be shaped like a star, but since they could not see it from above they could not be sure. Windowless towers projected up from within the confines, seemingly placed at random. Of various heights and shapes, they almost looked like spikes in some torturous machine.

The worst though was the light. From within the city sprang the same sickly green like the river Ash glowed with. Only this light was continuous, shining just as bright during the day as at night. Not that there was day here.

Every one of them, even Marwin, felt the irrepressible urge to flee. Brienne took Arya's shoulder. "We've seen it. Let's go!" The others muttered their agreement. But Brienne had seen that look on Arya's face and knew what it meant. "Don't!"

When Arya got the bit in her teeth she could not be swayed. She knew, as her companions did not, that it wasn't her own thoughts directing her to leave. Arya was stubbornness itself and had never taken commands well. And no power was going to make her go where she did not want to.

She slapped Brienne's hand off, and gritting her teeth, placed one foot in front of the other. None of her companions went with her. Indeed, if they had tried she would have sent them back. But she was determined. Whatever power was in there was going to accept her presence.

Each step was more difficult than the last. It felt almost like she was walking through treacle. She set her mind, and her jaw, and kept moving. The distance was far, a mile or more. Still, she would not stop.

Suddenly the pressure was gone. It was as if a door had opened up. She almost got the impression that the force which had been holding her back had changed its mind. Arya stopped in her tracks. It hit her like a brick. She had fallen into a trap. Whatever conscious mind had been holding her back was actually trying to draw her in.

Looking around, she realized she was far closer to the gate than she had thought. The entrance stood wide open. There were no gates to be seen. On either side were huge grotesque statues. Of what beasts or monsters they depicted she could not tell. They resembled nothing she had heard tell of in any story or fable. Beyond the opening was invisible, clouds of smoke blanketing her view.

The mind, she knew not what else to call it, welcomed her in. She felt like a warm embrace was moving to enfold her. Despite the danger she moved forward. It was as if her feet were no longer hers to control. If she could have heard her companions she would have heard them screaming at her to stop.

Before she knew it she was there, at the gate. She stopped. The compulsion to cross the threshold was unbearable. Yet some instinct in her warned if she crossed within she would never come out. Her heart raced. As she gazed into the city, fighting to keep her place, the clouds parted. It was but a brief moment, but it was enough. With all the strength of her will, she turned around and determinedly marched back toward her friends. It was the hardest thing she would ever do in her life. The compulsion to run into the city tore her in two. Still, she would not be swayed. This time her stubbornness kept her moving back toward safety.

It was worse returning. She felt as if she were pushing a wall. She was gasping for breath within minutes. Her feet dug into the shale, yet she pressed on. The sensation that she was dragging a great weight became worse and worse. By the time she had reached her friends, hunched over almost double, she was barely moving. She sucked breath, her lungs churning. Brienne and Sandor tried to run to her, but an invisible wall held them back. Brienne was yelling but Arya couldn't hear her. It was like water or cotton was stuffed in her ears.

Finally, whatever power was clutching at her gave in. All the impediments were gone and Arya almost fell into her friends. She fell to her knees and Maud, her face a mask of anxiety, enveloped her. Arya took heavy, deep breaths as if she had been drowning.

Before anyone else could speak Marwin was on her. "What'd you see?! What happened?! What's in there?!"

Brienne pushed him away. "Stand back archmaester! Let her breathe."

Like an over protective father, Sandor swiftly moved to Arya's side. He roughly shoved Maud away, not caring about her feelings. Arya clung to his arm, her knuckles turning white. "I'm all right! I'm going to be all right." She pulled herself to her feet, though her legs trembled with the effort.

"Are you sure?" Maud was almost faint with worry.

Arya was surrounded. All her friends were pressing in, crowding her. "Please, give me space."

They all moved back a pace. "We were worried," Brienne explained. "We couldn't move. You didn't hear us."

"That's understandable. There's something in there. Something evil. Worse even than Euron. I could feel its mind. Its will. It was trying to draw me in. Like a fisherman laying traps for the crabs."

"You could feel its mind?" Marwin's sense of curiosity had peaked. "What was it like? Did it see you?"

The look she gave him could bore holes through solid oak. "It saw me! It knew me. I am never going back there."

"Understandable." Brienne didn't understand any of this. But if it meant they were never going near Stygai again she was all for it.

"You need to tell me what you saw!" Marwin insisted.

Arya looked him in the eye with all seriousness. "No I don't."

Without another word she pushed past them all and started south. They were not slow to follow. Brienne almost ran to catch up to her. "Arya, what did you see?"

Arya answered, "Madness."

In the days following Arya was plagued by nightmares. Her friends feared she had relapsed into her despair. She jumped up one night, hand on her sword.

Maud grabbed her hand. "Calm yourself, your grace. You are safe."

"Am I?"

"We are with you."

"You can't protect me. This thing will not leave me."

"What is it?"

Arya actually looked scared. "I see a darkness in my dreams. It's looking at me. It feels me."

"Feels?"

"It's like a hundred hands are stroking my body." She was breathing fast now. "I feel like… something is trying to… enter me. I fight it, but I can't!"

Her voice went up alarmingly. Maud quickly embraced her. "It's just a dream. It can't harm you." Around them the others had taken notice.

"But it can. It's in my mind. I let it in and I don't know how to get it out!"

Jon's bed was the largest. The royal apartments on Dragonstone were very extensive. More so even than the ones that had existed in the Red Keep. They had been made even larger when Jon turned over what were once the barracks for the Kingsguard into apartments for his children. He had wanted his children as close as possible without them having free access to his bedroom. His two queens each had their own rooms. Not that they spent much time in them. Both preferred to share his bed. Usually with him in it.

He was sharing it now. But the two weren't sleeping well at all. Jon came awake all of a sudden. His thrashing came close to bruising his queen. She wasn't doing any better, for her own sleep was disturbed at the same time.

A loud banging was coming from the door. Jon, after throwing on a robe, ran to the door and opened it. On the other side was Harry Folsom, the captain of his Kingsguard with Sandor Clegane on the other side of the world with Arya. His Valyrian steel sword, The Dragon's Tail, was in his hands. With him were two of his brothers, Ayron Flowers and Ubart Maples. Behind them a crowd of servants was gathering.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry was stunned. "Your grace, your cries have woken the entire castle."

The crowd was quite large now.

Jon was flummoxed. "Uh… we were having a nightmare."

"Both of you?"

The people of Westeros could be very superstitious, as Jon knew. The last thing he wanted was wild rumors circulating. "We… must have been dreaming together. We both have dragons."

This explanation did nothing to reassure his listeners.

Joan Darkstone, the Queensguard on duty in the children's rooms tonight, pushed her way through the crowd. "Your grace," Dany, now in her nightdress, had arrived next to Jon. "Please, come now!"

The panic in her voice set off a wave. Jon and Dany pushed their way out the door and down the hall.

By the time they reached the apartments they could hear Rhaella and Catelyn screaming in terror. They went straight into her room. The nurse was there, desperately trying to comfort the hysterical Rhaella. Cat had buried her head in her pillow.

Jon went to her and pulled her into his arms. "Sshhh, sshhh, sshhh." He tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable.

Dany took Rhaella from the nurse and did her best. It didn't help.

"Dad?"

The two turned to find Rhaegar in the door. Little Ned was clinging to his side. The two boys looked just as frightened as their sisters. "Ned." The boy left his brother and ran to Jon. He tried to hug his father, but Cat was in his lap.

Rhaegar went to his mother and embraced her. "What's the matter?" she asked him.

He had a haunted look on his face. "It was like a black cloud. It was touching me."

This sounded all too familiar to them. "A dream?"

Septa Reggia had followed Jon and Dany into the room unnoticed. She now spoke harshly, "Little Lord, is this the way the blood of the dragon behaves? You are the son of the King Who Saved the World."

Jon was going to admonish her, but Rhaegar, his pride pricked, immediately released his mother and pulled himself erect. He stood stiffly, back rigid. Jon would have laughed if his other two children had not been clinging to him.

Dany though was grateful. Rhaella was finally settling down, probably because she had run out of breath.

Sam pushed his way into the room. "Sam?"

Sam looked around at everyone before answering. "You need to come."

He led them all out to the Dragonpit. As soon as they left the castle they knew they were headed into trouble. The dragons were roaring and hissing. Most of the people stayed back as the royals approached the enraged beasts.

He was carrying Cat. He had to set her down and she wasn't happy about it. The septa was quick to assist, grasping Cat's and Ned's hands. Rhaegar took Ned's other hand, determined to prove he was a man.

Jon approached Redflame with his hand outstretched. "What is it boy?" Jon, like Arya, had never tried to explain skinchanging to anyone but Dany and Sam. So none of those who held back had any idea what he was doing.

Redflame stopped in a heartbeat and stared hard at his rider. Jon was confused. "What? My fault?"

Only Dany and Sam were close enough to hear him. "What does he mean?" Sam didn't even try to reason it out.

"He says it's from me. I don't understand."

"You mean this dream you all had? Couldn't it have come from Arya?"

Jon looked at him. "How?"

Sam shrugged, not really knowing what he was implying. "The dragons reflect their riders. Maybe they are… telepathic?"

Dany didn't hide her scorn. "The Targaryens were flying dragons for centuries. And the Valyrians before that. Wouldn't they have noticed?"

Sam shrugged again. "None of them were skinchangers. At least I never heard tell of."

Obsidian stuck her nose close to Dany, her breath coming hard and fast. The dragons did not possess the most pleasant of odors. Whatever she was trying to say wasn't communicated. Instead, Rhaella reached out and smacked the dragon on the nose, much like someone would slap a misbehaving dog. The girl said something, though it was more a vague cry of outrage than an actual word.

Obsidian looked offended. Everyone couldn't help but laugh.

Jon tried to get more out of them, but the dragons had no more idea what had happened than they did. All he saw was jumbled images, none of which made sense. Even so, his contact with them seemed to calm them and the two went back to their lairs.

The dragons having settled, the crowd disbursed to return to their sleep. Septa Reggia took Rhaella and led the children back to their rooms. Jon, Dany, and Sam were left alone.

"What was that dream?" Dany asked. "Could it really have come from Arya?" She found this much easier to believe than the men did. She had actually touched Arya's mind once.

Jon knew what she was thinking. "Bran isn't here. Even if he had been, I can't see him wanted to torture us."

Sam suggested, "Maybe the Lady Arya sent it without meaning to."

"Meaning what?" Sam only shrugged. "Could she be in danger?"

"She was in danger from the moment she left, but you already knew that. There's so much we don't know about what's west. She might have found a new land with powerful magic. Or she might have sailed all around the world and is now in Essos. We won't know until she gets back."

Dany was unimpressed. "No offense Sam Tarly, but that's not exactly helpful."

Looking at his confused worst, Sam could only make faces and pout his lips.

Jon, who was disgusted by Sam's unhelpfulness himself, looked up the cliffside. The shock on his face made the other two turn as well.

There, sitting on the edge of the Dragonpit, was both Nymeria and Ghost. To call this astonishing would be immense understatement. The direwolves hated the dragons. And hated the Dragonpit and its stench even more. To see them sitting there showing every sign of anxiety left the three speechless.

The group was nearly a week from Stygai. Arya's sleep was only becoming more disturbed. What bothered her companions even more was that the choking smoke seemed to be following them. The days were getting darker and they all had the impression that something was out there. They could feel fear build among them. Yet nothing met their sight.

As they walked south feeling more fatigued than they should the sound of wings met their ears. Great leathery pinions descended from the clouds above. Something was definitely flying after them. And it was not Snowflake. She was not nearly large enough.

Brienne cried, "Run!"

They tried. But the weariness was thick on their limbs. Their pursuer could fly faster than they in any case. Arya, angry, gave up trying. She stopped and turned to face whatever was after them.

The others stopped. "Arya!" Brienne took a few steps to get her.

Suddenly, Snowflake, who had been noticeable for her absence ever since they got to Asshai, dove out of the clouds head first. She landed with such force that it almost knocked Arya off her feet. The others had to retreat for fear of being flattened.

The dragon hissed and lashed her tail. Although her anger and fear were palpable, she made no effort to grab Arya or take off again.

Lyanna asked what was on all their minds. "Why doesn't she fly away?"

Marwin answered, "Maybe whatever it is, is faster."

None of them liked the thought of that.

Whatever it was made itself known to them in short order. From out of the clouds came the largest dragon any of them had ever seen or heard of. Black as pitch and green of eye, it would have blotted out the sun had there been any. Arya, alone of all of them, had seen the great skull of Balarion. This beast put the Black Dread to shame.

Fear froze them all in place. Even the thought of their weapons was like an act of defiance. The colossus' landing shook the earth. Snowflake screamed her rage. The great monster roared back. Snowflake squealed in panic and retreated several steps. The she dragon planted her snout on the ground, covering her face with her wings in an act of submission.

The others could only huddle in dread. Only Arya stood her ground. Though her knees threatened to give way, she gazed into the malignant green eyes of the monster. She held out her hand, the wind carrying her voice back to her companions. "Don't be afraid," she said. "We will not harm you. We are your friends."

Brienne had to wonder at that. She doubted they could even harm it no matter what weapons they had. She was sure the creature knew it as well. Snowflake wasn't even a quarter its size.

To their amazement Arya took a step toward the beast.

"We don't want to ride you. We don't want to hurt you. We are friends."

The giant dragon just gazed down at her. It showed no sign of what it was thinking.

She continued advancing. Though her friends did not know it, Arya was desperately trying to reach the creature's mind. She wasn't trying to take it over. She couldn't have even if she'd wanted to. Dragons are strong willed and any attempt was only going to enrage it. What she was trying to do was convince it of their affability.

Faster than any snake, the beast's head dove downward toward Arya. Even with her skills there was no hope of avoiding it. But the creature wasn't attacking. She found herself standing literally right next to its great green eye. The eye was as large as her entire body. It was getting a very close look at her.

Swallowing her heart, she tentatively reached out to touch it. Physical contact always made mind-to-mind communication easier. A flood of images poured into her mind. Her breath came in gasps. She found herself begging the creature to slow down. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks.

With a suddenness rivaling its earlier movement, she found herself under attack. But it was a mental attack as the creature tried to enter her mind. To rip through her memories. As much by instinct as fear she forced it back.

"Get out! Get out of my mind!"

None of the dragons had ever done this before. She could sense that this creature had discovered a new experience. Like a child it wanted to use its new found skill. However, for all the size of its body, its mind was still weaker than her own. She retook control and forced it out. To her surprise the beast accepted this rebuke.

When she opened her eyes she found she had fallen against the dragon's muzzle. The images it, he, sent her were much gentler this time.

"You want to come with us? You can come. We promise no one will try to ride you."

On hearing this her friends wanted to scream 'NO!' But they had no say in the matter.

The dragon pulled away, leaving her there. With a blast of wind that also came close to knocking her off her feet, it launched itself into the clouds and vanished.

Arya fell to her knees. As if a spell had been broken, all her friends lost their paralysis and ran to her. She looked up at Brienne. Her face was pale white. "Never let me do that again."

They all laughed. Arya tried to pick herself up, but her legs wouldn't support her weight. Brienne and Clegane pulled her to her feet. She almost fell down again. With one on either side, she once more started south. Snowflake remained with them, following closely after.

Marwin could no longer hold his tongue. "What was that beast? How did you communicate with it?"

Arya ignored his second question. "It was the Cannibal."

They all stopped. Even Yimi and Joella had heard of the Cannibal. "You have got to be kidding." Marwin didn't bother to hide his skepticism. "The Cannibal disappeared over one hundred, fifty years ago. No one has seen it since."

"Disappeared. Not dead. Nobody has seen it because he's been here."

"How did it get here?"

"I don't know. I did not see much of his memories. All I know is that he knew where we were from. It saw Snowflake."

"So why didn't it attack her? The Cannibal ate other dragons."

"As best as I can figure it he wants to go home." They all looked at her like she'd gone crazy. "It's true."

"Why?"

She actually looked sad. "Because he's dying. He is the oldest dragon that's ever been most likely. Older than the Black Dread ever was. Not even the Valyrians had a beast so ancient. He feels it. The end might not come for years yet, but he knows. He doesn't have many left. He wants to end his life where it began."

"On Dragonstone."

"Last he was there dragons still lived. I don't know if he is aware of how the dragons died off. But he does know they live there now. That's why he didn't attack us. He saw Snowflake. He knows we have dragons."

Having regained the strength of her legs, she went back to Snowflake and gave her a hug.

The Hound asked, "Is it such a good idea to have that thing with us?"

"We're not in a position to say 'no'."

None of them could argue.

Strangely enough in the days following Arya's nightmares seemed to ease. It was almost as if whatever had been plaguing her was scared off by her new friend. Not that they saw him. It was only after they were near a week away from Asshai that they discovered where the Cannibal had taken himself.

Snowflake was flying somewhere in the clouds. On occasion they heard her as she flew by. At this moment she was not in evidence.

They entered a wide stretch of ground where the bank fell sharply into the Ash. To their right the wall of the valley rose almost perpendicular. When they had passed this way going north nothing had happened. This time, from out of the dark ahead, they saw Shadow Men.

They stopped in their tracks. The Shadow Men had always attacked them during the night before. But the sun was still above the horizon, or would be if they could have seen it. Facing them, filling the valley from wall to river, was an entire army of Shadow Men. In their previous attacks there had never been more than forty or fifty. This time there must have been near a thousand. Looking behind they found that their retreat was similarly cut off. They were surrounded. Valyrian steel or not, none of them had any delusions about what the outcome of this battle would be.

"Stay behind me," Arya instructed. They all drew blades. "When I move we charge the center of their line. Stick together! Don't let them get between us."

The Shadow Men yelled at them. None understood because none of them spoke their language. Not that any of them wanted to find out.

"What about me?" Marwin asked. He was fat and slow and likely unable to keep up.

"We'll remember to light a fire for you."

"Oh, thanks!"

He didn't appreciate the joke as the others did.

Despite their preparations a battle proved unnecessary. A horn sounded and all the Shadow Men, both before and behind, charged them. They were about to charge themselves when out of the clouds came Snowflake. She torched the men in from of them, leaving scores of charred corpses. This caused all the Shadow Men to pause.

She didn't stop there. Snowflake next circled and flew at the men blocking their retreat north. More flame. More bodies. All the Shadow Men they could see fled.

Thinking the battle won the group nonchalantly wandered southward, expecting, though not really, attack by any stragglers who dared the dragon's wrath. The attack when it came flew in from the side. Arrows and rocks sleeted down from the mountain side above them. Due to the clouds the assailants were invisible. Yimi and Joella tried to pick out targets, but it was hopeless.

"Run south!" Brienne yelled. "We can get out of their range. So far none had been hurt yet, but none of them wanted to test fate.

Suddenly the clouds parted as a great wind tore it away. The Shadow Men above stood exposed along the cliff face. Yimi and Joella did not have to expend arrows however. The source of the wind flew back. A great gust of inky black flame poured from his mouth. The men weren't charred or burned. They simply weren't there anymore. The cliff itself turned red and molten. It dripped like melted candle wax.

The Westerosi found themselves dumbstruck.

After staring at the molten rock dribbling to the valley floor Arya finally said, "Let's go."

END CHAPTER 12