Chapter 7Early next morning, Martin climbed the steep stairs to his room with two tankards of small ale, the best he could manage given the household’s basic amenities. At the doorway, he paused, wondering if Will would vanish again like some unattainable illusion and he would be left with an empty bed and yet more haunting memories.
But as he passed the threshold, Will was sitting up in bed, yawning. Somehow, this altered Martin’s entire perspective. Until now, Will had been a vision of the night, conjured by Martin’s tumultuous feelings and imaginings, a source of extremes, from the stunning, s****l being of the alleyway to the candlelit aristocratic scion in gilded reception rooms. Only last night, he had transformed yet again to the approachable confidante in the shadowy pathways at V
