“Good,” Leifsson said. “You may go. Not you, Sif Hrothgarsdottir. I have other business to discuss with you, while you’re here.” Lilja stood, smiled tentatively at Sif, and turned to walk away. Einar, too, rose, dipping his head to Leifsson … Continue reading
“The Shining Hand failed,” Leifsson replied. “Before they even began, really. A loyalist to the throne learned of their plan, and the Akademier put a stop to it. The mundane authorities never knew; the Akademier never told them. It was … Continue reading
Leifsson closed his eyes. Sif watched the poster. It remained resolutely ordinary. She looked up at Leifsson searchingly. “Is it broken?” “No,” Leifsson replied, removing his hand and rolling the paper. “I saw it.” Quickly, Sif glanced down at the … Continue reading
She descended the staircase to the great hall. As usual, it was nearly empty at this hour, and the fire on the hearth had burned down to a man-sized pile of glowing embers. Einar and Lilja sat near the fire, … Continue reading
Einar raised his eyebrows, but silently led them to the stairs up. As they left the great hall, he prompted, “Ansgar Leifsson said…?” Sif shook her head. “Someone’s watching,” she said, now convinced of it. “Magic, probably. Herre Leifsson was … Continue reading
Lilja stood. Sif stacked their dishes—she saw no reason to make the servants’ lives harder—and followed suit. Einar was playing the besieging side, the one which started at the outside of the board and had to keep the king from … Continue reading
There was a knock at her door. She slipped a bookmark between the pages, reverentially folded the book closed, and padded over to the door. She pulled it slightly ajar and peered through the crack. Lilja stood in the corridor. … Continue reading
“What did it say?” “Nothing. It was just a drawing of a hand, like this.” Sif held up her hand, fingers together, palm facing Leifsson. He sat bolt upright, as though he’d been shocked. Sif blinked, and said, “What—” Without … Continue reading
He didn’t see her until she was nearly on top of him. He was clearly surprised. Barely thinking, Sif slid into the chair across from him. He swallowed, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Sif Hrothgarsdottir,” he said, … Continue reading
Some of the others stayed at the poles in the hopes of roping in a spotter. Sif gently disentangled herself from her friends, assuring them that she would be fine. She caught Gyr Didriksson looking her way, with a pained … Continue reading
