“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?

He must erase all sign of his presence from the women’s place. There was no doubt in his mind that Somerled’s men would return. He must take all his things, his weapons, his boots, his cloak. He must wear his wolfskin. Setting it on his shoulders felt very strange indeed, as if he dressed in another man’s clothing. He should take the helm as well. Where was it? He was sure he had left it there in the alcove beside Biter, but now it was gone. Eyvind had no desire to go back into that shadowy chamber far underground, the place where he had found Nessa lying limp and white after her long, lonely ritual. For an instant, that night, he’d thought he had lost her, and a wave of anguish had swept through him that was like death itself. In the moment of realizing that she still breathed, Eyvind had begun to understand why Thor had released him from his vow, and he had thanked the god from the depths of his heart.