More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
signs the old gods left for mortals—red skies to foretell surprise, the flíta to usher in change, and the black hawk as a herald of death. Above all else, she knew that bad fortune came in threes,
Reykfjord—the smoky fjord.
It is a man’s world in which we live, Skraeda, her queen had told her, in that calming voice of hers. Let them think us lambs, when truly, we are wolves.
That man needs to hug a baby or pat a dog, she thought.
“Why should I give you another chance? You’ve proven yourself a liar.” “Because it takes a small man to be ruled by fear and a large one to show mercy. And anyone can see you are no small man.”
“Sigrún says, ‘Fire whiskey is a way of life on the road,’ ” said Gunnar as Sigrún drank from the flask. “ ’Tis true. Keeps you warm and helps pass the time. Plus, adding a little fire helps you sleep like a log.”
“Though I do not curse.” “You must,” said Ilías. “It is good for the health. Releases the tension in your body. Otherwise, the bad feelings gather, with no place to escape.”
“No, no, no, Hammer Hand. Curse. Really curse.” Ilías puffed up his chest. “Malla’s flaming tits! Cussing arsebadgers! Sheep-rutting son of a shit beetle!”
Jonas heard the words she did not give voice to. I love him. I love him and will not leave. I love him and will doom you and your brother to this misery. This was love. It made a person selfish. It enthralled them. Made them walk to their own doom. He looked at his mother, his chest burning with hatred. Love was nothing but a weapon to be used against you. It was safer to be alone. Jonas’s heart hardened, and he made a silent vow to himself: This will never be you.
I wanted to see the moment he realized that everything he had done to me—every slap, every punch, every kick—was kindling. It built me up into a raging wildfire, and now it was time for him to burn.”
What is it they say? Without rain, there would not be flowers?” “I’ve had plenty of rain lately,” murmured Silla. “That means the sun must be on the horizon.”
“And I wonder if the dowdy dresses and act of innocence are a trick, because good, sweet girls do not have a tongue as sharp and wicked as yours. And merciful gods, Silla. I am no good man, because all I can think of is drawing you into my furs and discovering what else that tongue is capable of.”
“Dowdy dresses? They have pockets. They are practical! We travel the Road of Bones!”
With the battle lust singing in his veins, Jonas had the urge to push her up against the wall and kiss her senseless. He wanted to taste her skin; wanted to hear the breathless sounds she made; wanted to see what hid under those dresses.
“You’ve broken me…bewitched me…I know nothing except that I am miserable. All I can think of are your lips, the smell of your hair. How you felt in my arms, the way you made me feel so alive.”
“I could squeeze the answers from you.” “Friends do not suffocate friends for sordid details.”
her personal favorite, “You cause me to weep, woman, and it is not from happiness.”
“So Jonas has been nailing our Hammer,” boomed Gunnar. Sigrún made a quick succession of hand gestures. Ilías interpreted. “Sigrún asks how many strokes of his axe did it take?” “Pawed by the Wolf, and yet you live,” Gunnar added. “Did he make you howl?” The Crew erupted in laughter.
