Bran's body jerked upright in bed, his dazed eyes gradually clearing.
He remembered.
Terrified, Summer rejected his consciousness, and he returned to his own body.
Bran wiped away nonexistent cold sweat and manipulated his still-unaccustomed body into sluggishly climbing out of bed, but his mind remained stunned by the shadow in the river.
What a huge Lizard-Lion. It could probably swallow a person in one bite.
Why had a Lizard-Lion come out of The Neck?
Bran didn't understand. He wanted to ask the prince, who possessed so much wondrous knowledge, but that metal plate had been malfunctioning for over half a month, and Arya had been upset about it for half a day.
He had to tell everyone. There was danger in the river.
Bran made up his mind.
"Make way! We're House Tully's people, and we have urgent intelligence to report to the king!"
"Get out of the way!"
The hurried clatter of hooves and shouts came from the west.
Bran went to the window. A dozen-odd riders in mail and leather armor galloped toward them along the River Road. They finally reined in outside the inn, dismounted, and charged inside without the slightest pause.
The riders disappeared from Bran's view, leaving only attendants outside the window, frantically hauling the horses along.
Bran could no longer suppress his curiosity. Ever since gaining this wondrous ability, he had found it increasingly unbearable not to be able to "see."
He deftly slipped into the body of a little bird and flew up to the inn's rafters.
The panting riders drew everyone's attention in the hall. The messenger in the lead opened a wooden box. Inside were two letters, their wax seals stamped with the Direwolf and Trout emblems.
The messenger looked around but saw no crown.
"My lords, Lord Hoster sent