It was quiet. It was so quiet he knew the moment he woke that the old woman was gone. A glance around the howe found no sign of her. Eyvind made his way outside, hoping Rona was merely dipping water from the spring, or perhaps rummaging through the pitiful remains of her home, hoping to salvage some small treasure. But the place was deserted. A gray film of fine ash coated the small bushes and dusted the banks of the stream. Rona was gone, and so was Shadow. A raid, an abduction, even murder—had he slept through that? Think, Eyvind. No sign of a struggle, no blood, nothing touched as far as he could see, though the boot prints Somerled’s men had left behind them still marked the soft soil. Where did Rona’s footsteps lead? Did she walk as subtly as she wove charms of green mist and ghostly voice, so cleverly she passed with never a trace?

“Rona!” he called, knowing in his heart she would not reply. “Where are you, foolish old woman? Who will guard you, wandering alone?” Here were Shadow’s paw prints overlaying the others, a steady trail across the sacred space and off up the eastward track toward the hills. They were gone, the two of them. Rona had solved his first problem for him; the wise woman had freed him from the need to protect her, so he could pursue his quest. Eyvind wondered in what chill corner of the land she would lay her aged bones tonight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and went back into the howe, for he must move now, before Somerled sent his men back with instructions to conquer their fear of ghosts and complete the task he had set them. Find the girl. Why? Why was Nessa so important to Somerled, who respected matters of the spirit only when it suited him?

It had been easy yesterday. His burnished helm and weapons, the terrible voice that had not been his own, the dog’s courage—these things had set the attackers sprinting in retreat before he needed to wield sword or axe in earnest, before he had to test himself. He still didn’t know if he could have done it. There was no saying if he could even begin to fight a man without the voice of Thor to spur him on. The time would come, soon enough, when he must find out. Could he kill, now he had begun to understand how precious life was?