“Well, you say the crow is insignificant, desperate, ugly. You say we are just a drop in the river.”
She pauses for effect, making us all wait a few seconds. Even Elof stops devouring the stew and looks at her.
“But we are led by fate, by the gods. That crow, no matter how pitiful in his own life, was there, right at that moment. He made an impact on your life. Made you feel and think, hopefully in a new way. For a second, he was the center of your world. He affected your Volva training. His mere existence has changed your future. Forever. And what is a river? Countless drops. Take one drop away, you wouldn’t notice. But keep taking them, and all you will have is a dry riverbed. The gods provide.”
“All true,” confirms Elof before chomping some more.
“Very wise,” says Ari, eyes piercing me as his grin grows. “We wouldn’t want a river to lose itswetnessjust because a crow was taking a bath.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. What a blithering idiot. A conceited piece of shit. He can’t hold it in. He couldn’t if he tried. I barely want to eat his stew now. Okay, maybe a little more. I take a spoon.
“Wait,” says Ylvin, her gaze bouncing between Ari and me. “Something’s in the air. Something I don’t know about. What happened?”
“Oh no, nothing,” says Ari quickly as he looks down.
“No secrets, you two, tell me.”
“Maybe Kilda will share,” he says as he shakes his head.
I slam my bowl on the ground, spilling some of its contents.
“Oy, the stew,” mumbles Elof.
“I’m tired,” I announce before stomping toward our tent. Even through the red mist of rage, I feel my stomach—hollow, rumbling. I return, avoiding eye contact with everyone, but I can feel Ylvin’s eyes burning into me. Bending to pick up the bowl I just slammed makes me feel silly, like a petulant child. But I don’t give a fuck. I want to eat. I want to get away. I do both. I decide.
“Rest well,” calls Ylvin after me, her tone dripping with amusement.
Fucking Ari. Mangy fucking crow. My hasty retreat to our tent is a defeat, yes, but at least I can escape that maniacal shitbag of a skald. I don’t care. I just want to sit and enjoy a meal in peace.
Alone in the tent, I eat the mangy crow’s mangy stew. I feel like an animal, wolfing down the meat as I sit on my cow-hide. Some might say I’m eating like a pig, but I prefer lynx. Yes, I am a lynx.
I finish my food by drinking the liquid like the bowl is a cup.
The best. So good. Annoyingly so. Intolerable. The worst.
CHAPTER 30
Ari enters. My back is turned, to make him think I’m sleeping. I’m waiting for him to say some witty shitty comment that will amuse nobody but himself. It takes willpower to control my breathing—rhythmic and relaxed—so he thinks I’m resting peacefully.
I hear him shuffle under his blanket. Then silence. No sound. Minutes pass as I wait for his attack. What’s his plan? To surprise me with an insult as soon as I fall asleep? To shake me out of my dreams and into this nightmare? To wait for me to speak? To…
I turn, feeling my face heat up. What a piece of shit.
“So?” I whisper harshly.
He jumps, startled by my sudden interaction.
“So what?” he whispers back.
I can’t see his face in the dark, but I’d bet my skirts he’s grinning like the troll he is. The lower I sink, the higher he floats.
“So what did you tell them?”
“Nothing, don’t worry.”
I scoff.
“Right, like you can keep your mouth shut.”
