“Odin’s beard, Groa,” I laugh. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Don’t be insolent,” she says.
We hold eye contact until her mouth betrays a smile. Groa can’t keep up her mask. We snicker together. I’m blessed she’s my teacher, my friend. She brushes a strand of blonde hair from her face.
“Just feel it, don’t think about it,” she says. “When we passed the waterfall earlier, did you notice its rushing waters?”
“Well, yes.”
“Didyouallow it to flow?”
“Of course not.”
“So how can your mind control these currents? It’s not up to you.” Her eyes burn like a fire pit, searing into me. “Are you the All-Father?”
“No.” Silly question.
“Yet you speak of his beard.”
“I… what?”
“We are grateful for what we are given, what we are offered. When we receive a gift, we do not decide what it is or when it comes. All we can do is give thanks.”
“Is it early Yule this year or…?”
I reposition my legs, making sure the dagger is neatly tucked beneath my dress.
“I’m serious,” says Groa. “Dead serious.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just be open. Be ready. You’ll hear. The whispers may come at any time. A trickle can quickly grow to a cascading torrent.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t hear a fart on a windless night.”
Groa throws her head back, laughing.
“How crude,” she says. “You will learn as I did—a fart can quickly lead to a pile of shit. A tide, even.”
“An endless tide,” I add, shuffling nervously.
Tension fills the carriage like a coiled snake. Groa’s smile evaporates, her eyes sharpen. My temples tingle as she reaches out her hand.
“Give it to me,” she demands.
“Give what?”
“You know.”
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice thinning. Groa stays calm. Her gaze is locked on my face, unwavering.
“I tolerate the secret you keep with my boy,” says Groa, “because I know he will be a good father to your child.”
She grins.
“Your other secret, you have to share it.Give it to me.”
A chill goes down my spine. Groa knows about my games with Narve in the forest? Harmless fun, now a betrayal of my closest ally. My only friend. My teacher, mother.
