Around the side, our reindeer are sleeping in a cozy bed of hay under half a roof. There are goats tucked next to them, which he must keep for milk, and a small chicken coop.
“He’s got you all safe and warm in here, doesn’t he?” I ask the nine sleeping hens. Reaching my hand underneath the middle one, I watch her open her yellow eyes at my intrusion, but she allows me to take two eggs all the same. By the time I am done checking the chickens, I have over a dozen eggs in a basket I found hanging on the wall.
“I thought you made a run for it,” Shaw says from the bedroom door as I set the basket on the kitchen table.
“Aslaug wanted to be let out,” I reply, swallowing hard at the sight of him. “There are a lot of eggs.” I focus on the blue andbrown, smooth shapes in the basket and not his messy hair falling over the tattoos on his skull.
“We should get out and use the bow before the snow comes. Let me find you something warmer.” He walks back into his room. I nervously comb through the ends of my hair until I hear him call, “Rasha?”
“I know how to use a bow,” I reply, going into the bedroom. It looks less frightening in the daylight as Shaw lays out options on the bed, and the fire crackles at a quiet pace in the corner.
“This isn’t a normal bow.” He looks at me from his bottom drawer and hands me thick pants. “I don’t mind if you cut these tonight. There’s plenty of sewing supplies, and I’m sure we will have a few days of heavy snow.”
“I can pay you back when we get to my clan,” I say out of habit.
“You can think that if it helps you come to terms with whatever you’re feeling. Take anything you want and meet me outside.” He brushes past me, walking out.
Quickly piling on all the warm things, I roll the top of the heavier pants over, securing them to my round hips with one of his belts, and head back outside. I follow his footsteps and hurry along the back of the cabin, past the animals and into the trees. He left a single track of steps leading to a clearing. When I walk through the sparse trees, I am blown away by the view.
Shaw is standing with the quiver in his hand, against the backdrop of a cliff, waiting for me. I didn’t realize how high up we drove the sled. The mountains and trees make a semicircle of frosty, snow-capped terrain, followed by a mind numbing drop down into the sea. He turns upon hearing my boots crunch through the snow and fully takes in the mismatched outfit of fur and wool.
“We are tucked away into the mountain, aren’t we?” I ask.
“Yes, the Sacred Forest is in the largest of the Elkthynir Mountains. So I have an idea,” he says when I lean over the edge to gaze down at the sheer drop. “Can I see the chain again?”
Walking away from the cliff, I wiggle the bracelet off and give it to him. He pulls the bow out and hands it to me, then takes the amulet from the bottom of the quiver. He opens the amulet, carefulto hold it flat so our blood stays inside, and fits each end of the chain into the delicate filigree cover.
“If this works, tonight I’ll attach a clasp to the ends with silver.” He holds the amulet up, and I instantly see that he’s made a necklace for me to wear.
Putting it over my red hair, I ask, “So why do I need all this to wield the bow?” The amulet rests between my breasts, and I cover it with the coat as Shaw backs away with the hint of a smile across his lips.
“Because you need to create the arrow.”
“You’re a blacksmith. Why can’t you make the arrows?” I counter, walking around him as he strides to one side of the clearing, away from the cliff’s edge.
“There was a time I could.” He glances around, looking for what would be the best target.
“I’ll stand here.” I already scouted the widest tree trunk on my walk here, but he doesn’t need to know I planned ahead. The bow is unexplainably light and almost as tall as I am. Turning it around in my hands, I line up my palm with the grip and pinch the silver string between my fingers. The amulet pulses against my chest, spreading the strangest sense of warmth over my body. Heat radiates along my arms, and I picture an arrow.
“What do I do now, Shaw?”
From a good distance behind me, I hear him say, “Lean into whatever feeling the amulet is giving you.”
“Is it supposed to be hot?”
The amulet is making my skin sweat and arms tremble. Squeezing my eyes shut, I picture every fucking arrow I’ve ever shot flying through the sky, but nothing happens. I’ve used a bow since I was old enough to pull the thin string my father crafted for me, and his face winks into my memory. Disappointment, coupled with the heat emanating from the amulet, whips my focus into a storm of emotions.
“Open your eyes,” Shaw murmurs, and a chilly tickle of wind seeps down my clothes. “You have to see the target,” he adds. I don’t just open my eyes, I glare at him.
“I know, but I don’t feel the arrow.”
“Relax and try again. Would it help to send off a few normal arrows with a normal bow?” He nudges his foot into a bag, slumped into the snow with an array of weapons sticking out.
“I didn’t think you’d want a rematch of our first time.” I give him a snarky answer and lower Skadi’s bow. Glancing at it again, I have no words to describe the feeling of holding something so ancient.
“Nothing will happen to it if you put it down,” he reminds me, so I put the bow in the quiver and lean it against a tree. The forest is suddenly eerily quiet as an eagle finds a perch high in a tree, causing all the bunnies and song birds to stay hidden.
“It’s humbling,” I add, meeting Shaw back in the middle of the clearing.
