Bran had told them there wouldn't be. Something was coming this way. The windwas whipping them too wildly for Jon to see the sigils, but he glimpsed aseahorse, a field of birds, a ring of flowers. He was followed by Bowen Marsh, who stood with one hand on Lord Slynt's shoulder.
The Fingers were a dismal place,she'd heard, and there was something forlorn and desolate about the littletower. Thankfully they did not have to go far. Rattleshirt was going to kill him anyway, he knew that too. His mouth twitched.
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