Astrid had fourteen winters and hands that smelled of boat tar. She lived by the fjord, where the walls of the mountains reflected the cries of white seagulls. Every morning she practised with her shield with Bjørn, an old warrior of jarl Torval. She dreamt of leading a drakkar, but the elders regarded her as a child. That summer, the oak trees whispered of an expedition and the sea demanded courage from the young. Even the dogs in the village sensed the change and barked north. On the night of the solstice, the sea was smooth, though clouds crackled with lightning. Jarl Torval raised the horn of honey, and the skald began the old saga. Then a whisper came from the fjord, as if the waves were speaking in a foreign rhythm. Astrid froze, for the word sounded like her name, drawn out and hard. The elders feigned calm, but Bjørn tightened his hand on the handle of the seax. In the glow of the fire, shadows shifted on the water, elongated and crooked. Old Vigdís threw runic dice, but the dice were silent as if spellbound. Later she slipped out onto the rocky shore where Skadi's drakkar was moored. A bone compass lay on the sand, an unfamiliar pattern, the runes glowing like flames. The needle pointed not north, but a black crack in the ice rock. Astrid touched the runes, and the voice of the sea turned into a short command. Find the hammer of the storm before the shadow arrives without crew or oars. On the shore, she left a mark on the shield to remember the way back. The water at the gap was warmer, and bubbles were rising from the bottom. At dawn the fjord was covered in mist, heavy and salty like old tears. Astrid showed the compass to Bjørn, and the warrior only nodded, as if waiting. Together they sailed the rowboat towards the rock where the cold wind lived. A drakkar's shadow emerged from the mist, gliding without sound, without people, without a trace. Then the compass vibrated, the runes lit up blue, and the rift responded with a rumbling, metallic thump. A carved dragon watched from the shadow deck, as if airing fear, though it remained silent. Bjørn slipped a runic bone into her hand, whispering for her to listen to the waves. Just below the boat, a circle spread out, as if something huge had drawn breath. Astrid lifted the compass and the pointer turned sharply, stopping right on us.