He started to sit up when a pounding on the door made him leap to his feet. The void came slowly, hesitantly. No one would know what they were seeing even if they did look. The curtains in an open window beat against the outside of the house.
Outside the inn, the wind picked up to a roar, leaking in through the shutters and fanning the flames to engulf the parchment. Maybe she'll he at one of these. His sign was a golden hawk. One of the men was sharpening a dagger with long, slow strokes of a stone.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.