To reach the seer’s cave I must go past the place where Rodan had fallen. I could not put off the expedition forever. On a clear, bright morning I set out with my provisions and my warm cloak, and Fang in attendance. I would go to that place on the cliff top and offer prayers for Rodan’s spirit. Then I would walk on to spend the day in Finbar’s sanctuary. I would seek a wisdom higher than that of humankind.

Fang’s behavior had grown still odder. She would run a short distance, then halt as if turned to stone, her muzzle pointed out to sea. When she was in this pose, the dog was impervious to all else. There was no point in calling her. Even passing sheep were ignored. Then, abruptly, Fang would come back to herself and run after me as if nothing had happened. “What is it, little dog?” I asked her as we followed the track toward the cliffs. “What do you see?” But the only reply was the rush of the waves below us, and the high calling of the birds.

Fang’s erratic pace made the walk slower than it might have been. I was sufficiently concerned for her welfare not to go so far ahead that the dog might lose sight of me. Then again, perhaps I was a coward. Perhaps my feet were dragging because I did not want to reach that place where Rodan had gone over. I gritted my teeth and walked on.

I rounded a corner with the dog at my heels and my heart faltered. A naked figure stood poised, arms stretched out as if for flight, bare feet on the very edge of the cliff. Her hair streamed in the wind; her eyes were fixed on the horizon, away to the north. Svala, like a lovely carven figurehead. If I made a sound, if I startled her, she would fall. She was standing in exactly the spot where Rodan had gone over.

Fang had no such scruples. She pushed past me, trotted ahead along the path and stopped to sniff at the heap of clothing Svala had abandoned on the ground.

“Svala,” I said in a murmur. “Step back from the edge.” Even as I spoke, my mind showed me an image of her falling.

She turned, gloriously confident of her balance, and walked over to the path. She stooped to pick up her gown. My heart was pounding, my palms clammy. I forced myself to breathe.

“You frightened me,” I said. “I thought . . . ” No, I would not tell her what I had thought, for it was obviously wrong. She’d had no intention of jumping. I saw that in her proud stance and in her calm eyes. “Never mind,” I said, knowing she could not understand.