He could smell the smoke of the fire, the burning oil in the lamps, the leather covers and quietly decaying books on the shelves, the ink on the desk, the mice in the walls, the shock of the woman standing before him as her skin chilled. He tilted his head to check the smells, and the unexpected weight of his head made him brace his neck muscles and his whole body to support it. He flared his nostrils and more of the scents in the room rushed in to overwhelm him.
A falling ember in the fireplace startled him in the silence of the room, and he felt his ear twitch to focus on it, not a simple vestigial movement along the top of the jaw, but a live swiveling sensation, of just the one ear.
He regarded Ceridwen. The color had faded from her face, and from the room around her. She stood stock
