Thirty-one – 01

I woke alone and knew instantly that things weren’t right.

Thom’s place beside me was long cold and the weight of something unseen pressed down against my heart, against my thoughts as I sat up in bed. No. Something wasn’t right. All wasn’t well.

It was dark and far, far too quiet.

I slipped from the bed and dressed quickly—jeans, sweater, boots, coat. My heartbeat sounded too loud in my ears, the sound of every movement deafening in the strange silence.

Everyone else was asleep, it seemed-everyone except for Thom, except for me.

A glimmer of silver and steel caught my eye. Thom’s sword, right where he always left it. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat.

This could be very good or very bad.

I picked up his word and stepped out into the still, eerie blackness. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. I sucked in a breath and headed out for the wall. Somehow, I knew.

I needed to get to the wall.

No one tended the fires as I ducked though the tents—unusual in and of itself. That could have meant any number of things, but something in my gut told me it wasn’t just that someone had forgotten about them. I moved faster, blood pounding in my ears, throat tightening.

Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

I started to run once I hit the snow, illuminated a pale blue by the meager light of the sky.

Dawn was a long way off, but I could see torches glowing beyond the open gate.

Oh gods, the gate is open. The gate is open and there’s someone out there and where are Thom and the people who are supposed to be on the watch what’s going on why didn’t anyone wake me up—

I slipped in the snow and went sprawling, Thom’s blade skittering across the pack and out of reach. I might have cried out—I don’t remember.

I don’t remember because my world suddenly spiraled down to one tiny point of light before visions swallowed me whole.

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