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Lynn and Mance questioned Samwell Tarly about the fighting at the Fist of the First Men. Sam told them everything he could.
Most of the time he had been stuck beside the raven cages writing letters, so he only had a hazy idea of the actual battle. The worst part was that none of the messages had gone out—he'd forgotten to tie them to the ravens' legs and had simply released the whole flock.
What did get their attention was Sam's story about running into an Other on the road and killing it with a dragonglass dagger.
Lynn made him go over every detail. When he was finished, Lynn was certain Sam wasn't lying.
From what they could tell, dragonglass hurt the Others more than plain Valyrian steel, but less than Valyrian steel that had been heated by dragonfire.
Sam nearly lost his mind when he learned the fireball he had seen streaking over the Wall was Lynn's "starship."
"I have to write this down in the Watch's histories!" he declared over supper, eyes shining.
Jon Snow gave him a sad little look but didn't have the heart to remind him the Night's Watch might not have much history left.
With the extra horses from Harma's cavalry, the column moved faster.
Beyond the Wall, no one bothered separating warhorses from pack animals. The Free Folk used whatever they had, because there was never enough.
Mance convinced the giants to walk instead of riding their mammoths so the big beasts could carry part of the baggage.
Pushing hard, they reached a spot less than a league from the Wall a full day ahead of schedule. Lynn finally saw the legendary Wall with his own eyes.
He had seen it countless times in Bloodraven's memories, but memory was nothing compared to the real thing.
It was early morning. The eastern horizon glowed soft pink, fading upward into pale gray. One of the seven wandering stars—the constellation the Dawn's Sword—hung low in the southwest, its bright white star at the pommel sparkling like a diamond.
As the sun rose, the dark forest below slowly revealed every shade of green, gold, red, and brown. Above the sentinel pines, oaks, ash, and weirwoods stood the Wall itself—an endless white wall of ice that shimmered in the light and stretched out of sight in both directions.
The smoother eastern stretch averaged seven hundred feet—more than two hundred meters—high.
Lynn had seen taller buildings in his old life, but none of them ran nearly five hundred kilometers from the Bay of Seals to the Gulf of the Grey. Built with primitive tools thousands of years ago, even with giants helping, it could never have been raised without magic.
Lynn and Mance rode to the edge of the haunted forest to study the top of the Wall while the main host waited deeper in the trees. Giants and mammoths were too easy to spot.
They watched for a while. The top of the Wall looked peaceful. Every dozen yards or so stood a motionless figure.
"Straw sentries," Mance chuckled. "Same old trick they've used for decades."
"Looks like Kassa and the others haven't arrived yet. It'll take them at least three days to circle from Long Barrow to Castle Black.
You want to send the dragon up for a look?"
"That's exactly why I'm here," Lynn said. "Time to test whether the Wall really does reject magical creatures."
He beckoned. Weeping Blood immediately crawled to his side.
Because the Three-Eyed Crow had briefly used the dragon as a host, most of the young dragon's natural ferocity had been burned away. Weeping Blood was far more docile and obedient than any dragon in history—once he accepted you.
Lynn slipped into the dragon's mind with the skinchanger gift, took a few running steps, and launched into the air.
He fought down the urge to roar, circled a couple of times, and used the feel of the wing membranes to catch the right current.
The wind cooperated. He climbed fast, soaring well above the top of the Wall.
From the air the Wall looked even more unreal, but Lynn wasn't sightseeing. He studied the walkway and saw only three men on watch, and they weren't paying much attention. One was toasting bread over an iron brazier; the other two leaned on a massive horn mounted on a frame, chatting.
After one full pass Lynn decided there was nothing useful to see on top. He climbed higher, planning to cross the Wall and scout Castle Black while the guard was lax.
That was when the feeling hit him.
It was vast and heavy, like the enormous wall of ice itself had a living will and might rear up like some ancient serpent and swallow him whole.
The sensation came through Weeping Blood's mind, translated into raw instinct—the same way a cat is born knowing it rules mice.
To Lynn it wasn't truly dangerous. His human mind knew it was only ice; it couldn't suddenly become a moving creature.
But the closer they got, the harder Weeping Blood fought. The dragon's will tried to shove Lynn out and turn back.
Lynn wobbled in the air, quickly calmed the dragon, and steadied himself.
The Wall definitely had something strange about it—not a physical barrier, more like a psychic pressure aimed specifically at magical beings.
Weeping Blood's will had retreated deep inside. Lynn now had full control of the dragon's body. He could have flown straight across if he wanted.
But respect for unknown forces stopped him at the last second.
He tilted the wings, carved a smooth arc, and dove back toward the haunted forest.
Theoretically the dive should have been terrifying, but because he was seeing through dragon eyes and feeling the air through dragon skin, he felt no fear at all.
At the perfect height he flared his wings, caught the air, and landed lightly on the ground.
When Lynn returned to his own body, Mance was standing guard beside him with sword drawn.
"First time I've ever seen a 'dragon soul,'" Mance said, voice full of wonder. "Never even heard of a skinchanger who could ride a dragon."
Lynn soothed the young dragon's nerves while answering.
"Technically every Targaryen dragonrider was a kind of dragon soul. Their bond just wasn't as complete as a true skinchanger's link with an ordinary animal. My case is… special."
"Guess that's what happens when you're the Son of the Stars and Dragonborn," Mance said with a grin.
As far as he was concerned, the stronger Lynn was, the better.