"Crack."
A faint sound, like bones shifting, suddenly broke the terrifying silence of the room.
Mormont's eyes snapped open!
He might have been old, but decades as a ranger had left his vigilance intact.
He was certain that was not the sound of burning firewood!
He held his breath, straining to catch even the slightest movement in the dim room.
"Crack... crunch..."
The sound came again, clearer this time.
It came from the middle of the room!
From the long table where Othell's body lay!
A chill gripped Mormont's heart.
Colder than the fiercest wind outside, it shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
Impossible...
This was utterly impossible!
He must have been so tired that he was hallucinating.
He tried to reassure himself, but his heart hammered like a drum, betraying his fear.
He sat up without a sound and felt around for the oil lamp and flint beside his bed.
His hands trembled with nerves, and it took several attempts to light the lamp.
The dim yellow glow instantly drove the darkness from one corner of the room.
Holding up the lamp, Mormont cautiously approached the long table.
Every step seemed to land in time with his own heartbeat.
As the light drew nearer, the scene on the table gradually became clear.
The cloak covering the body had slipped halfway off.
And the corpse that should have been cold and stiff...
Othell...
He suddenly sat up!
His rigid head turned little by little at an inhuman angle.
Those sapphire-blue eyes stared straight at Mormont in the dim lamplight.
There was no human emotion in those eyes.
No anger, no sorrow.
Only pure, icy stillness, the silence of death from the Lands of Always Winter.
The bitter cold had eaten away at the