As if the shining stone had a will of its own.
Well, if that was right – and still the reasoning, logical part of my mind was struggling to accept the evidence I could see with my own eyes, and feel in my own hands – it suggested that Gurdyman had been absolutely right. The stone was as curious about me as I was about it, and it was setting about satisfying that curiosity by sending its essence out to meet mine.
But that, a rational and steadily diminishing part of me responded, was nonsense. It was just a stone …
I stared into the shining stone, now living up to its epithet with such a glorious display of light that my eyes had instinctively narrowed. Those fascinating strands of green and gold drew my gaze, and I had the sense that I was falling more deeply into the dark depths. But I was not afraid: I knew the stone was not my enemy but my ally.
And then from somewhere came understanding so firm, so certain that there was no arguing with it: the time when others could command and control my interaction with the shining stone was over.
For some time I just sat there, my hands clasped around the stone, my eyes half-closed as I stared at the movements I could see within it; the shapes, images, pictures, ideas, even, that formed, melted and reformed as I watched.
Thorfinn and Hrype were very patient; I’ll give them that.
Finally, I believed I was ready for them. Carefully I moved my hands so that my palms and interlinked fingers covered the stone’s surface. The light instantly dimmed and, once more, the scene was illuminated solely by Thorfinn’s two lanterns. Then I raised my eyes and looked straight at my grandfather.
‘You wanted me to see what Skuli was doing, and I’ve done so. I’m not referring to what I’ve just seen,’ I added swiftly, as he opened his mouth to speak. ‘I’m referring to the last time I looked into the stone, when I was with you, Hrype.’ I gave him a quick glance, then turned back to Thorfinn. ‘I won’t repeat the information, since I’m quite sure Hrype will already have told you every last detail, but, to summarize, we know that Skuli reached Miklagard after a headlong rush that lost him crewmen.’ I paused, steadying myself. Despite the new-found confidence which the shining stone seemed to have bestowed on me, it was still nerve-racking to confront two such powerful men. ‘We also know,’ I went on softly, ‘that Miklagard was not Skuli’s final destination.’
In the sudden, utter silence, I heard the hoot of a hunting owl, somewhere out on the fens.
Now I had to grab my chance. I was about to do something I’d never attempted before, and I knew that my slender courage would fail if I gave myself time to think.
‘Before I describe what the stone has just revealed to me,’ I went on, trying to keep my voice steady, ‘you must tell me where he’s going, and what he intends to do there.’
Thorfinn’s expression smoothed into bland indifference, but not quickly enough; I had caught a glimpse of his anguish. Clearly, he didn’t want to share whatever he knew, or suspected, with me. He met Hrype’s eyes, and I thought Hrype gave a small shake of the head. So that was how it would be …
With a smile, my grandfather said, ‘I can’t tell you, child, because I don’t know for certain. He-’ A pause. ‘Skuli has a warped soul. He believes life has treated him very unfairly, and that the shining stone should be his. If it were, he is convinced that he would have led the hero’s life he so desperately wants. With its help, he would have made voyages and discoveries of the sort that become legends, to be told and retold by the bards until the end of our line.’ Briefly he closed his eyes. ‘For better or worse, actions were taken to ensure Skuli never got his hands on the shining stone. But, in the end, it made no difference; he has gone to pursue his dream anyway.’
I waited, but it seemed he had finished.
I could scarcely believe it.
‘But what dream?’ I cried, my voice loud in the enclosed space.
Now Thorfinn’s distress was written all over his face. He leaned close to me. ‘Child, child, it is perilous even to speak of it!’ he said, his voice almost a moan of pain. ‘You must trust to older and wiser heads, and accept that some things it is truly better not to know.’
Once more, silence fell. I said, wondering at my nerve even as I spoke, ‘Then you’re not going to hear what the stone just imparted to me.’
Thorfinn’s mouth fell open. ‘You saw?’ he hissed, and anger flared in his eyes. ‘You saw the place? Those ancient, wondrous halls, and the ravens which-’
‘Enough.’ Hrype spat out the single word with the force of an arrow hitting the butt. I twisted round to him, my fury about to erupt, but he forestalled me. ‘She’s fooling you, Thorfinn! She saw nothing – she’s leading you on, in the hope that you’ll tell her what she wants to know.’
Hrype was right. In that moment, I hated him for his perception. He knew me far too well and he hadn’t hesitated to use that knowledge against me, stepping in to stop Thorfinn just as he was about to speak.
Ravens. He’d said ravens.
I’d seen them.
Thorfinn was looking at me. ‘Is this true, child? You were trying to mislead me?’
I met his eyes. Gathering the remnants of my courage, I said, ‘Yes, Grandfather, I was.’ Making myself ignore the disappointment in his face, I hurried on. ‘You have asked too much of me. You would have me use the shining stone – which you put into my hands – for your own purposes.’ I stopped, my response to his pain making my eyes fill with tears. Then, anger rising again, I said, ‘If you have a use for the stone, you should have held on to it.’
He went white. I knew I had gone too far, but whatever was driving me wouldn’t let me apologize. Instead, I said coldly, ‘Please don’t ask me again to use the shining stone to do your bidding. It doesn’t work like that any more.’ I paused, for this was important. ‘It’s mine now, and it’s concerned only with my preoccupations. Nobody else’s,’ I added for emphasis, ‘even yours.’
Thorfinn didn’t reply. I think he was shocked into silence. Hrype made no comment either, although I could feel his furious disapproval coming at me like a wave. I risked a glance in his direction. His silvery eyes were narrowed to slits.
I busied myself wrapping the stone in its soft wool and stowing it back inside the leather bag. Then I got up from the bench, pushing aside the heavy awning.
‘You’re going?’ Thorfinn’s voice cut into the silence.
‘Yes.’
‘But you can’t go alone! It’s dark, and the waters still run high. You should-’
I cut him off. ‘I’ve lived in the fens all my life and I’m perfectly capable of finding my way home,’ I said. I stepped up on to the bank.
‘Hrype, stop her!’ Thorfinn commanded.
‘She knows her own mind,’ Hrype replied coldly. ‘Let her go.’
He spoke as if he hated me. It was too much. Sticking my head and shoulders back in through the gap in the awning, I let all the anger, hurt and resentment fuse into a weapon as sharp as a sword. Unfortunately, I aimed it at the wrong target.
Glaring at Thorfinn, I said, ‘One more thing: you need to explain to my father who you are. It’s not right or fair that I know and he doesn’t. Apart from anything else, you’re forcing me to enact a lie with someone I really love, and it’s very, very painful.’ I paused for breath, fighting not to let the sight of Thorfinn’s expression affect me. ‘My father’s a grown man, and he’s tough,’ I finished. ‘The news won’t break him. Compared to everyone and everything he holds dear, it’s just not important enough.’
I flung the awning back into place and strode away along the narrow track.
Hrype studied the old man. He sat with bent head, the broad shoulders sagging, one hand covering his face.
She has hurt him, Hrype thought. So far he has only known one face of his granddaughter, and now he has seen another. She is a lot tougher than he had suspected.