Dawn cut through the mist over the fjord as Runa removed her fur hood. She was fourteen winters old and her hand was hard from ropes and oars. Her father, a boat builder, slept in the smoke of the long hall after a night's work. Runa squeezed the sun stone after her grandmother, a dull nugget that found the sun. Fog hid the mountains and the waves rumbled like drums before the boat set off. A fresh new cut appeared on the runic boulder by the shore. "Don't cut here while the snake of the fjord sleeps." - she read out in a whisper, squinting her eyes. Skald Torbjorn had spoken yesterday of a ghost ship pulling silently astern. Jarl Eirik had announced an expedition north, for furs, salt and stories. "I will sail as navigator," she said to the sea, which pretended not to hear. When the bell from the hall rang, the village brought out shields, ropes and provisions. Runa noticed that the notch on the boulder glistened slightly, like a fresh wound. A raven circled on the water, like a scout, what sees through the mists and time. "To the oars!" - roared Eirik, and "Lightning" cut across the frowning surface of the fjord. Runa held the sunstone, spinning it against the milky sky like a needle. The light leapt from the nugget and settled in the far northwest. "There," she pointed, and the crew thrust their oars into the water like blades. The rudder knot was strained, thinly, as if someone wanted to test the courage. Runa bit through the linen rope and tied a new one, trembling with anger. The fog thickened and the drummer beat more evenly until their hearts clasped together. A second keel appeared in the water beside the boat, with no boat visible. "Who is following us?" - asked Torbjorn, but the echo gave the question away twice. Runa put her hand to the boulder on the prow where the wolf was carved. The stone was warm, as if she had been drinking a whisper, and it trembled under her fingers. Suddenly, the prow of a strange ship emerged from the mist, without sails, with a rune of warning. The rune saw the same dash as in the morning, now carved deeper and glowing. And then someone, unseen, whispered her name right next to her ear.