‘Who was that?’ Arna eyed the door as if she expected it to burst open any minute. Ægir felt the same. Although the corridor seemed empty, it might be a trap. And who could it have been? Halli knew precisely which cabin Ægir and Lára had been occupying and he also knew which room the girls were using. So why had he walked all the way down the row? Was it not Halli after all? The more he considered this possibility, the more his doubts grew. Surely Halli would know where the master key was kept, unless there was no such key on board? Perhaps it was Halli and he had gone to fetch the axe from the bridge in order to break down the door. Or perhaps it was someone else entirely.
‘Who was that, Daddy? Was it the bad man Halli was talking about?’ Arna wasn’t going to let her father get away without answering.
‘I’m sure it was only Halli. He’s tired like I was earlier, so perhaps he can’t remember which cabin he’s in.’ Ægir immediately regretted telling the girls what they wanted to hear rather than what they needed to know. If they were to come through this alive, they would have to be aware of the danger. It wouldn’t do for them to run to Halli when or if they encountered him. If he caught one of them, Ægir would go to pieces and that would be the end of them all.
‘It wasn’t Halli.’ Bylgja wrapped her arms round her narrow ribcage as if to keep warm, though it wasn’t cold in the cabin. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t Halli.’
‘How can you tell?’ It sounded as if Arna couldn’t decide whether she wanted her sister to be right or wrong.
‘It just wasn’t him.’ Bylgja shifted closer to the headboard. ‘Why don’t we go up and talk to them, Daddy? Halli and Thráinn might be able to help us and catch the bad man.’
‘Not now. We’ll go out presently, but not quite yet.’ They left it at that, though neither twin seemed satisfied. Ægir wasn’t either, but it couldn’t be helped. While he didn’t know who was out there or whether that person was still on the prowl, there was little he could do. Then again, he wouldn’t find out if he stayed in the cabin. But he couldn’t bring himself to confront this fact just yet. It was better to sit tight and hope for the best. Wasn’t it?
Ægir had succumbed to sleep again. He woke from his dreamless state with such a violent jolt that he was lucky not to fall out of his chair. Something had changed, and in his horror at having fallen asleep on guard again he thought at first that someone had entered their cabin. But it turned out to be the long-desired silence that had woken him. Previously the deep throbbing of the engine had been constantly in the background but now all was quiet. The yacht was no longer moving. ‘How long is it since we stopped? When did it happen?’ He tried to keep the despair out of his voice. This did not bode well.
‘A while ago.’ Arna rolled over and closed her colouring book. ‘We didn’t want to wake you because you were so tired.’
‘How long is it since I dropped off? Did it happen straight after that or only just now?’ The girls exchanged glances; clearly they had no idea. It was still pitch dark outside, so assuming he hadn’t slept for twenty-four hours it must be the same night. ‘Has anyone tried to get in again?’
‘No. No one.’ Bylgja laid aside her book as well.
Ægir rose and went to the door. There was no sound from the corridor outside. Perhaps this was the chance he had been waiting for; he might not get another. There was no need to shut down the engines in order to go to sleep, but perhaps, just perhaps, this indicated that Halli – or whoever it was – was resting. Perhaps he was afraid of over-sleeping and entering Icelandic territorial waters while he was dead to the world. It was entirely possible that he had pressed his ear to the door just as Ægir was doing now, and, hearing that Ægir was asleep, judged it safe to take a nap himself. ‘Was I snoring, girls?’ They nodded. He vacillated. If he could make a dash for the bridge to fetch some emergency flares and the axe, or simply to find out where in the world they were, they would be much better off. He could set off a flare if he heard or saw any other ships. ‘Okay. Now I need you two to be brave one last time.’ They looked far from happy. ‘I’m going up to see what’s happening. You must wait for me here in the meantime. You mustn’t leave the cabin, whatever happens. Do you think you can do that?’
‘We don’t want to stay here alone.’ Bylgja looked at her sister in hope of support. ‘What are we to do if someone comes in while you’re away?’
‘No one’s going to come in. You’ll lock the door behind me.’
‘But what if he pretends to be you?’
‘No one can pretend to be me. You know my voice.’ Reluctantly, they accepted this, though it was obvious from their expressions that it was the last thing they wanted. They needed him. He was their father. But it couldn’t be helped; he couldn’t take them with him when God alone knew what awaited him upstairs. ‘Perhaps you should hide in the wardrobe just to be on the safe side. If anyone looks in here, they’ll think you went with me and go away again.’
‘But then we won’t hear you when you knock.’
‘I’ll knock extra loud.’ He put his ear to the door again and listened intently. Still no sound. ‘And I’ll be very quick.’ He meant to seize the door-handle and leap into action before he lost his nerve but was filled with a powerful longing to kiss his daughters one last time before he abandoned them. Their cheeks were soft and warm and the scent of their young skin was the best thing he had ever smelt. What had he been dreaming of to think they needed more money for their life to be perfect? You couldn’t improve what was already perfect; you could only ruin it. His eyes fell on the briefcase that was still leaning against the wall where he had left it and he wanted to scream until his vocal cords gave way. Instead, he looked sadly at his daughters, so lost, so desperately fragile and vulnerable. ‘Hide in the wardrobe and wait there until I knock. I’ll call out my name so you won’t be confused.’ He gave them each a lingering kiss on the brow.
The corridor was deserted and Ægir met no one on his way up to the bridge. Every muscle, every nerve and sinew was tense, ready to confront the murderer, whether it was Halli or a stranger. Of course he hoped it wouldn’t happen, yet part of him desired nothing more than to find the man and beat him to a pulp. Although he’d never had any real experience of fighting, he was fairly sure he would succeed. No matter what was driving the other man, Ægir had hatred on his side. The sight of his face reflected in the pilot house window brought him to a standstill; rage had contorted his features. He hoped with all his heart that he hadn’t looked like that when he said goodbye to the girls; if anything happened to him, he didn’t want that to be their last memory of him.