I waded into the books, digging around where Elof had been, until I found the torch he’d dropped in the chaos.

I got it lit with the intention of helping them search. Elof used his good arm to sift through the books near him, and Sunniva stood between Dagny and Elof, so they could both use her light, and she picked through things with her free hand.

There was another loud boom above us, and more dust and pebbles trickled down from the ceiling. That’s all there was this time, no prolonged quaking that followed, and I heard the high-pitched groan again, coming from the door swinging at the dark end of the girjastu.

I went down to get a better look, and I discovered a thick copper door, oxidized green around the edge, standing ajar. I ducked under a spiderweb and peered in the doorway. The dim torchlight instantly picked up on the shelves lined with treasures—glittering jewels, works of art, dusty artifacts, and ancient tools.

This must be an Älvolk vault, where they locked away their precious valuables. I stepped inside the crowded room, looking around at all the strange treasures. I was about to call for Dagny, thinking she’d like to see what was in here, but something caught my eye, and I froze.

The large amber stone glimmered in the bronze hilt, beneath a sigil of the Omte—a trio of vultures. It was a short dagger with a wide blade made of wolfram metal. Runic symbols were carved down the center, along the blood groove. Though the dagger was battered and scraped, with the ridges on the handle dull and worn down, the edges of the blade were exceedingly sharp.

It was the weapon of a warrior. The same one I remembered Thor giving to Orra Fågel, the one that Mr. Tulin had seen her carrying the night she left me at the inn in Iskyla.

And then, after she’d left me, Indu had tracked Orra down and killed her. She died protecting me from him and his oppressive cult, and he had stolen the dagger from her. He had stolen my father’s blade.

The leather sheath lay underneath the dagger, on a pile of gold coins and loose gemstones in red and blue. The belt was long—Thor had been even wider than me—but there was a smaller handmade notch on it, one that fit almost perfectly. Orra must’ve been about my size.

I secured the belt around my waist and sheathed the dagger at my hip.

“Ulla! We found something!” Dagny shouted.

I jogged back over to them, where they were crowded around a large, dusty book. It was at least two feet tall and even wider than that, and Dagny turned the vellum pages carefully. They were covered in drawings, pressed flowers and herbs, and writings in a runic language.