He sighed and took a mouthful of his ale. “If only we could know whether anyone’s survived. To be honest, Felix, I don’t like the prospect of losing good men over this. Especially not if it turns out to be a fool’s errand, with your comrades already fallen prey to cold or starvation or this creature. That’s a little blunt, maybe, but I have to say it.”

“You think we should not attempt this?” Gull’s doubt unsettles me further; I feel sick.

“I didn’t say that, lad. If you want my honest opinion, I think there will be enough men willing to form a crew of sorts. But if I were Johnny, I’d be wanting more certainty.” He glances at Sibeal, who has moved to sit on the bench opposite the two of us, her ale cup between her palms. Her eyes are wide and watchful in the firelight.

“I could cast the runes again,” she says, “but I believe they would show the same message as before. I could scry, posing a question about survivors. I might see a vision of men on the serpent isle, but I wouldn’t know if I was looking at past, present or future, or whether the images meant something other than what they showed. If you want certainty, I cannot provide it. Only hope. Only my conviction that this is the right thing to do, for you, Felix, for Svala, for those men you left. Even for Knut.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“Because every man must at some point confront the truth about himself. I still don’t understand why Knut told so many lies.”

“It’s a shock.” Gull’s tone reflects this; he is upset. He befriended Knut. He liked the man. “Maybe he started with one lie, and ended up trapped in a whole web of them.”

“His explanation for bringing Svala with him sounded reasonable—she was alone on that wild, rugged island, he thought to protect her—but . . . ” Sibeal hesitates. “In the light of your story, I recalled a much earlier vision, from the first time I visited the seer’s cave. I think Knut may have removed Svala from that island by force. If that’s true, if he abducted her, then we’ve done her a terrible wrong by accepting Knut’s story. She’s been with him in that cottage, alone, perhaps unwilling . . . ”

This shocks me. I can think of nothing to say.

“I hope you’re wrong, Sibeal,” Gull says. “Svala has seemed content enough in Knut’s company on those few occasions when she’s come out in public. She’s somewhat withdrawn, certainly. But who knows what happened to her before the ship reached that island? Maybe she was the only survivor of some earlier voyage. That would be enough to drive the most reasonable woman half out of her wits.”