“So… what do I do now?”
“Practice being yourself. Go swim. Be Kilda. I sense it in you.”
She opens the flap to her tent and signals for me to leave.
“Now, fuck off, my darling,” she says with a wink and a grin.
As I bend over to leave her tent, she gives me a light smack on my rump. I turn to her, shocked, but I see on her face that it was meant as a friendly gesture. Playfulness among women. Whatever that means.
“More meat than mine,” she laughs. “Impressive. Those pants look good on you.”
“Uh, thank you?”
“Oh, and Kilda.” Her wolfish smile is back. “Say what you want about Ari. But I think he likes you.”
“Don’t be crazy!” I whisper, feeling myself blush.
“If you don’t ever ride your horse, someone else might steal it,” she laughs as the flap of her tent closes.
Such a maniac. Ride the horse she says. Fine. But a mangy crow? In his dreams.
Here I am, alone in the woods. The lavvu was its own space. My senses are confused being out of its confines.
So, what now? How to practice being myself?
How to be Kilda?
CHAPTER 28
What a crazy woman.
I’m lost in thought as I stroll toward the divine mountain stream. The sun is shining now, having banished the clouds. My mind is shining too. Even with all the madness Ylvin spewed out, our conversation lifted me. It made me think. Reflect on… reflect on who I am.
She’s right. I do wear a mask, several probably. I’m always forced by convention to be someone other than I am, than who I want to be. My fingers stroke a tree as I pass. Its rough bark resists. Friction. The world is hard. I have hardened for it. It’s a good thing. It’s a must. And yet, I am not present. It’s high time I opened my eyes. Step out of the shadows. Stand. As myself—as Kilda.
I brought linen cloth to dry off after the swim. Ylvin has, mildly put, inspired me. It’s been many years since I took a dip.That all stopped when I became a thief. My mind grew weighted. Nervous. Forced to mature, to feed my father.
My mother loved to swim. She would always take me. After she died, Father never wanted to go again. “You swim like a seal,” she had said once. Gliding through the water as cool currents brush against my skin—glorious.
The waterfall is too perfect. The river too clear. Its thundering roar intensifies as I approach. Mother’s memory will be honored as I bathe underneath the rainbow.
How long has it been since I thought about my mother? Since I let her back into my heart? Having her ripped away, my life was turned upside down. It’s always easier to push down that which causes pain. Tears form in my eyes, but I don’t let them escape. I suppress the feeling, shaking my head to return to the present moment.
A smile grows on my face. I’m warmed by the memories. Ylvin’s words have moved me… strangely enough. In the beginning, I thought she was just full of it.
Of all the things Ylvin rambled on about, the craziest of all was that basta?—
I freeze. My stomach jumps into my throat. I take quick steps to a nearby bush, staying low. Speak of the wolf and he comes to your door. I scoff at the thought. I should have guessed. There he is. The skald.
Ari is standing in the exact spot I’d chosen. The water reaches just above his waist. He drags his hair back, pressing it against his skull. He probably just washed it for the first time in five years. Grimy bastard.
I should move. Wait my turn, give him time to dry off. But I don’t. I keep watching. Or spying rather. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the naked man glittering in the sunlight with a crystal-clear rainbow over him. Maybe that’s it. A thought hitsme—if he had been watching me like this, I would be horrified. Enraged.
I shake my head, dismissing the thought. He would watch me too, the pervert. What’s fair is fair. I move some leaves to see better. It really is a beautiful scene. Like a fable of the gods. Even I have to concede—Ari improves the image.
As he lifts his arms, his stomach stretches, showing layers of muscle on his abdomen. I’m not even sure how many. Several scars mark his back, stretched by the muscles that flex as he strokes his hair again. His chest is broad, jutting forward.
How ridiculous. He looks like a god. A god bathing in Ifing, the river separating Asgard from Jotunheim. How stupid is he? How stupidly gorgeous? What a complete fool. A godlike fool.
