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- Джордж Мартин
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Her
bedchamber
was
black
as
pitch
.
Sansa
barred
the
door
and
fumbled
through
the
dark
to
the
window
.
When
she
ripped
back
the
drapes
,
her
breath
caught
in
her
throat
.
The
southern
sky
was
aswirl
with
glowing
,
shifting
colors
,
the
reflections
of
the
great
fires
that
burned
below
.
Baleful
green
tides
moved
against
the
bellies
of
the
clouds
,
and
pools
of
orange
light
spread
out
across
the
heavens
.
The
reds
and
yellows
of
common
flame
warred
against
the
emeralds
and
jades
of
wildfire
,
each
color
flaring
and
then
fading
,
birthing
armies
of
short
-
lived
shadows
to
die
again
an
instant
later
.
Green
dawns
gave
way
to
orange
dusks
in
half
a
heartbeat
.
The
air
itself
smelled
burnt
,
the
way
a
soup
kettle
sometimes
smelled
if
it
was
left
on
the
fire
too
long
and
all
the
soup
boiled
away
.
Embers
drifted
through
the
night
air
like
swarms
of
fireflies
.
Sansa
backed
away
from
the
window
,
retreating
toward
the
safety
of
her
bed
.
I
’
ll
go
to
sleep
,
she
told
herself
,
and
when
I
wake
it
will
be
a
new
day
,
and
the
sky
will
be
blue
again
.
The
fighting
will
be
done
and
someone
will
tell
me
whether
I
’
m
to
live
or
die
.
"
Lady
,
"
she
whimpered
softly
,
wondering
if
she
would
meet
her
wolf
again
when
she
was
dead
.
Then
something
stirred
behind
her
,
and
a
hand
reached
out
of
the
dark
and
grabbed
her
wrist
.
Sansa
opened
her
mouth
to
scream
,
but
another
hand
clamped
down
over
her
face
,
smothering
her
.
His
fingers
were
rough
and
callused
,
and
sticky
with
blood
.
"
Little
bird
.
I
knew
you
’
d
come
.
"
The
voice
was
a
drunken
rasp
.
Outside
,
a
swirling
lance
of
jade
light
spit
at
the
stars
,
filling
the
room
with
green
glare
.
She
saw
him
for
a
moment
,
all
black
and
green
,
the
blood
on
his
face
dark
as
tar
,
his
eyes
glowing
like
a
dog
’
s
in
the
sudden
glare
.
Then
the
light
faded
and
he
was
only
a
hulking
darkness
in
a
stained
white
cloak
.
"
If
you
scream
I
’
ll
kill
you
.
Believe
that
.
"
He
took
his
hand
from
her
mouth
.
Her
breath
was
coming
ragged
.
The
Hound
had
a
flagon
of
wine
on
her
bedside
table
.
He
took
a
long
pull
.
"
Don
’
t
you
want
to
ask
who
’
s
winning
the
battle
,
little
bird
?
"
"
Who
?
"
she
said
,
too
frightened
to
defy
him
.
The
Hound
laughed
.
"
I
only
know
who
’
s
lost
.
Me
.
"
