Jay

My head hurt. My eyes wouldn’t open. Well, they might if I tried harder, but I didn’t want to risk it. I had drunk too much strong cider and barley wine. (Storm tasted of barley wine.)

My heart hurt. A hollow ache, as if my chest were bruised from inside. After I left the inn, Storm had nudged at my thoughts, but I closed my mind and drunk more cider to dull the pain. Later in the night, I recalled Storm trying to rouse me, but I’d curled away with my ar...