“If you like, but?—”
“Can you control it when I take it with me to the farm?”
One should not interrupt one’s elders, especially one’s teacher. Realizing what I have done, I look to Ylvin timidly, considering apologizing. But she is only grinning.
“Don’t apologize, by Odin,” she says. “It would be hard. Doing magic costs a lot of energy, and I mean a lot. It can cost worse things than that. You will know. It costs even more to perform it at a distance.”
“Do you ever run out of energy?” I ask, thirsty for knowledge. I can’t believe it. Ylvin is more than a madwoman, that much is true. She is a Volva.
“Like a child chasing chickens, I get tired. But I’m always ready to go again the next day, like a child who loves chasing chickens. Certain things help me replenish.”
“Like what?” I want all the tricks, all the methods. I realize now, for the first time, my hunger grows. I want more.
“Sex.” She winks. “Good food, good sleep.”
“I should have guessed.”
“Indeed, you should have.” She sits. Her eyes observe the dancing shadows of talismans on the roof of the lavvu. “Mind you, Kilda, that’s what works for me. Maybe praying to Freya in a river or orchard will work for you. What do I know?”
“A lot,” I say, but it doesn’t stop her continuing.
“Experiences in life, my dear, can also replenish, or expand, or anything else.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Listen, Kilda, I am more experienced than you, true. But I am also learning. I am just a student of the gods, like you. We never stop learning, never stop growing. A tree doesn’t stop as soon as its leaves reach the sun, it wants more, it uses its roots to compete, push.”
“Groa said the same about trees.”
“Groa wasn’t so bad it seems,” she laughs. “I think that if a single flower, tree, or any plant was allowed to grow freely, without competition, it would eventually have a root by every river in the world to quench its thirst.”
“Like Yggdrasil,” I whisper.
“Well said.” She nods. “Competition is healthy, keeps us on our toes. It only does us good.”
“Do Volvas compete?”
A wolfish grin grows on her face.
“More than honorable men on wrestling day.”
“But, where… does it… how come normal people don’t know?”
“Some do. Most find it easier to live a trivial life. True Volvas tend to be careful displaying their powers. Many jarls, or foreign kings, or even lowly bandits have heard of powerful women and killed them. Out of fear. Understandably, such power is revered by many, but it also terrifies people.”
“Do you know other Volvas?”
“I have known, not anymore.”
“Why?”
She sighs, closing her eyes.
“There is always a bigger wolf, or a stronger pack.”
“Pack?”
“Yes, pack. For fuck’s sake, Kilda, you ask a lot of questions.”
