“How much for her?” one of them called back to the torches. “Four penningr,” a man shouted back. I could feel myself sinking deeper into the snow. It was the same price I’d paid for the goat we sacrificed the night I saw Iri. I tried to blink back the flare in my eyes. It was a cruel joke. Like Sigr was looking down on me and laughing. He had to be.
