Page 208 of The Sun He Buried

Disappointment enters first. Worry follows. Both reach me cleanly.

“Enjoy the performance?” I ask.

“No.”

He walks toward me.

His blue eyes follow the path Baldr took, then settle on mine.

“You should fasten your shirt.”

Ketill looks down.

“A devastating counterattack.”

He fixes the missed button. “Better?”

“Nothing could help, but the attempt has charm.”

“He saw what you were doing.”

“He has eyes.”

“He saw you.”

The storm strikes the windows hard enough to make one latch jump.

Ketill’s disappointment doesn’t change.

“And you punished him for it,” he says.

One true thing.

I look past him toward the stairs.

“The eastern tallies?”

“Still short.”

“Then perhaps the mine overseer should attend his mine.”

“Perhaps the Dróttin should attend his brother.”

“The mine is more likely to improve.”

Ketill studies me.

He knows the line.

“Asta wants to kill me,” he says.

“Get in line.”

“She has a head start.”

“Then run.”

He sighs and turns away. His walls rise before he reaches the arch.