“I don’t want to live. You said you used a rune to wake me. Can you use a rune to make me sleep forever?”
He was silent for a moment. “I should not have done that,” he admitted, misgiving ringing in his words.
“Done what?”
“I should not have told you about the rune. I am not accustomed to guarding my words. There is usually no one to hear them except Arwin . . . and he demands that I share them all. And master them.”
“Master your words?”
“Yes. And the runes.” He winced. “I’ve done it again.”
“Where is Arwin?” Had she asked that before?
“He will be back. I would . . . appreciate it if you did not tell him about the runes.”
“What can I tell him? I know nothing of such things. And you have not answered me. Can you make me sleep again?”
“I do not want you to sleep,” he said. “I would like to talk to you. I would like to hear you sing some more.”
“I do not want to sing.”
“Come . . . You will feel better when you are dry and fed.” He held out his hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. She wrung out the skirts of her dress and he waited, his head tipped, listening to her. When he turned to go, she followed him.
2
SIDES
Hod worked like he’d gutted a fish a thousand times, and when she offered to help, he bade her sit, telling her it would be easier for him if she kept the space around him clear.
“I know what I am doing . . . but I can’t see what you are doing. So you sit still and stay out of my way. You can talk to me. I am tired of my own thoughts.”
“I don’t like your name,” she said, surprising them both.
“I am named for a god.”
“Which god?”
“Hod.” He laughed and she winced.
“I don’t know this god. Are you teasing me? My brothers used to tease me. They were very good storytellers. They would persist until I believed them, and then they would laugh when I did.”
“I am not teasing you. Arwin does not allow such things . . . though I have tried. He is almost as ill tempered as you are.” His voice was kind, and a smile played around his mouth.
“You are teasing me now.”
“No. Just trying to soften the truth. Where are your brothers? Where is your family? You said your mother was dead. Are your brothers dead too?”
“They are all dead. They grew ill, one after another.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did. But I got better. They did not.”
“You are still very frail.”
“Yes. I am easily tired. And I am even smaller than I was before.”
“Why were you on the sea?”
She did not want to talk about the sea or what had come before. She shook her head and then remembered that he couldn’t see her.
“Tell me the story of Hod,” she insisted.
“Me . . . or the god?”
“Both. But first . . . the god. I still do not think he is real.”
“I do not know if he exists . . . but he is real,” Hod said.
She shook her head but found herself fighting a smile at his play on words.
“Do you know Odin?” he asked.
“I know Odin.”
“And Thor?”
“Yes. His hammer makes the thunder.”
“Then you know about Loki.”
“I have heard his name. But I do not know Hod.”
“Hod was a son of Odin. But . . . like me . . . he was blind.” He was silent then, and she waited for more. She found she liked this story—and believed it.
“Did Hod have a weapon like Thor?” she asked.
“Arwin says his lack of sight was his weapon.”
“How?”
“Everyone underestimated him. No one paid him any mind. They thought him weak . . . vulnerable, but Arwin believes our weaknesses and our strengths are the very same thing. Two sides of the same sword.”
She didn’t understand, but she didn’t question him, and Hod continued with his story.
“Odin had many sons. Our land—Saylok—is named for one of his sons. I will tell you his story too, if you like.”
“I have not heard of him either.”
“Some are more well known than others, and some are not known at all. Some were hated, some beloved. Most beloved was Baldr, who was so loved by his mother that she convinced every living thing to agree not to