“Oh dear,” said Halla. Apparently he’d said that out loud. “I stabbed him, you see, and … oh, not very well!” She held up her hands, as if apologizing. “In the arm. He screeched like a chicken laying a particularly large egg, and then I know I was probably supposed to stab him again, but there didn’t seem to be much point.” Rage at Alver had dampened his libido somewhat, but Halla’s cheerful expression, and the mimed stabbing, woke it again. Great god, but he loved her. She was so absurd and so dear, and also it seemed she was capable of stabbing kidnappers and then being matter-of-fact about
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