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Sandor gripped his sword.

“Okay,” Grizel said, pressing her hand against the panel, triggering

a loud click as the door swung inward.

They hurried into the house, and the door closed behind them with

an unsettling click that echoed off the bare stone walls. The inside was

just as boring as the outside: a narrow bed covered in stiff white

linens. A small empty table. A lone shelf holding a few worn books.

And a single chair facing the only window, where Alvar sat staring out

at his rather unimpressive view.

He turned toward them as they entered, his scarred face curling

with a smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’ve been waiting for you.”

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