The hunter had to remedy this. Usinna had to have her final repose back here, in this place. It was not a question of his opinion – he had given his father his word, and that he could not betray. When, as a young man, he had sworn his oath, it had not occurred either to him or to his father that Igimaq’s own child would end up violating the prohibitions of past generations and call down upon herself the eternal restlessness of her own soul, which would never find a refuge. Usinna was childless, like her brother. As things stood, it seemed unlikely that Naruana would do his duty in that regard, which meant Usinna’s soul had scarcely any hope. Its only escape would be to settle in a newborn child fathered by her brother. Until that happened her bones would have to rest here in the vicinity of her soul, and also far from the living, to whom she could do many types of harm, even drag them to their death. Igimaq knew this well; wandering souls were to be feared and dreaded. They could not be stopped with a bullet, or even a volley of them. What was already dead could not be killed again. Igimaq wasn’t actually scared of death, nor did he understand those who said they wished to live longer than was natural. To create the conditions for a new life, you had to clear space, and it would soon be his turn. He accepted this completely, but nevertheless wanted to have some say in his own death. He wanted to die as he had lived, under the open sky with his rifle in his hand, in harmony with nature, which could strip him of his flesh after he drew his final breath. He did not want to die with his heart in his throat, fleeing something nameless as it snapped at his heels. That, he could not accept. He would have to bring Usinna back to this place. And he knew how he would go about it. If there was one thing the hunter was good at, it was trading, which he had done from a young age. The people in the camp would get the people they were searching for, or a clue to where they could be found, in exchange for Usinna’s remains. Igimaq let his eyes wander to the entrance of the cave and stared for a moment at the black hole. It looked like the mouth of a monster that had been buried under snow and ice and was now trying to eat its way up from the cold, white hell. He turned on his heel and walked back to the sled. The dogs pricked up their ears and the harness tightened. Igimaq watched them stand up, one after the other, and although he knew they were looking forward to getting moving, he could not avoid the thought that they wanted to get away from there because of something that had crawled out of the cave as soon as he’d turned around and that was now creeping along the snow towards him. He didn’t know what souls looked like, and he didn’t want to find out. And so he chose not to look back, but instead stared at the dogs and took increasingly larger strides towards them and the sled that could carry him away from here, as quickly and safely as possible.
‘You hated her.’ Friðrikka had moved away from the window and now sat at the table, leaning forwards over the tabletop, which was covered with circular coffee cup stains.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Eyjólfur was still sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his legs stretched out. Their argument was brief but had progressed more quickly than usual from silly remarks to earnest conflict. ‘I didn’t hate her. You’re nuts. I hardly knew her.’ The young man stared at Friðrikka’s back as if he would dearly love to throw something at her. ‘Who are you to talk about hate? As far as I recall, you hated Arnar yourself! You can pretend all you want in front of this lot, but you hated his guts!’
‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ She nearly screamed the last word. ‘Why should I have hated him? I felt sorry for him. You were awful to him.’
‘Oh, shut up. I wasn’t anything to anybody. You might not have joined in tormenting him, but you did nothing to help, just went along with it and laughed at everything, as long as Oddný Hildur didn’t see. If she was nearby you made sure you didn’t smile.’
‘Shut up yourself! I never laughed. I might not have been as brave as Oddný Hildur, but I didn’t encourage it. That’s bullshit. And it’s bullshit that I hated Arnar, just like everything else that comes out of your mouth. What reason did I have to hate him? He never did anything to me.’ Friðrikka turned abruptly and glared at Eyjólfur. ‘No, if anybody hated anyone here, it was you guys. You hated Oddný Hildur for reporting you to the owner for harassment. I wasn’t reported.’
‘You hated Arnar because Oddný Hildur was disappointed by how you treated him.’ Eyjólfur clenched his teeth and his jaw muscles bulged. This made his youthful face appear more mature and gave him the appearance of the adult that he would change into over time. ‘And I wasn’t reported either, just so we’re both clear on that.’
Thóra yawned discreetly. Their bickering was dying down, as she had hoped it would when she had made the decision not to intervene. ‘That’s enough, you two,’ she said, without much conviction.
‘I can’t just sit here and take this,’ said Friðrikka, looking to Thóra for support. She obviously hoped to find an ally in another female. She was wrong.
‘You started it, as far as I recall,’ said Thóra as indifferently as before. She was hungry again and envied Matthew, who had managed to fall asleep sitting next to her. Finnbogi seemed about to follow his example.
‘Yes, but…’ Friðrikka appeared to give up the fight. She looked angrily at Thóra and flopped back over the table. ‘Dóri and Bjarki hated Oddný Hildur. There’s no question about it.’
‘Jesus!’ Eyjólfur’s jaw had dropped. ‘I can’t believe you’d talk shit about people who aren’t here to defend themselves. Mind you, that’s just your style, so I don’t know why I’m so surprised.’ Neither of them had been told about the discovery of the body parts and it didn’t look like there would be any need to do so today, since they all seemed fated to hang around in this sainted meeting room forever.
‘What difference does it make whether they’re here or not?’ Friðrikka got up again. The buzz of the fluorescent lights intensified and one of them started blinking – not exactly the best thing for calming frazzled nerves. ‘They hated her for reporting them, and if she hadn’t disappeared they would have switched their bullying to her. Don’t try to deny it.’
‘Christ.’ Eyjólfur shook his head angrily. ‘I’m not having that. How do you know what would have gone on if this, that or the other had happened?’
‘That’s enough of your bloody bickering. Listening to the two of you makes me want to puke.’ Bella stood up and slammed her fist on the table. The Solitaire cards jumped and scattered. Eyjólfur and Friðrikka looked sheepishly at the furious secretary. ‘Keep your fucking mouths shut if you can’t talk to each other like normal people.’ She flung herself dramatically back down into her chair and gathered the cards. Then she started another round of Solitaire as if nothing had happened.
Thóra smiled to herself, but her amusement was short-lived. How exactly would things end up if they had to stay here much longer? The police would doubtless find other deaths to investigate. She looked around and tried to imagine what it would have been like to work here. To be stuck with your co-workers for weeks, never to be able to get away, to have to be around them regardless of what mood she was in. When you added conflict to the mix, as had obviously been the case here, it must have been a real trial. Maybe it was out of old habit that Eyjólfur and Friðrikka were always arguing. Maybe they knew no other pattern of communication.