“Hold.” A voice rang out in the hall, vibrating through Elvar’s body. The giant head Hrung’s eyes were wide, nose twitching and sniffing. He stuck his tongue out, licked the air as if tasting it, then closed his mouth and smacked his lips. “Elvar,” he said into the hall. Jarl Störr stared at Hrung, the two men at his shoulder taking a step forward. “You must be mistaken,” Jarl Störr said. “Elvar is here,” Hrung said, his bass voice filling the room. Elvar stopped with a sigh and turned, dimly aware that Grend was turning beside her, Agnar’s crew coming to a halt. Elvar put her hands to her
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