A tingle of cold air. A soft voice somewhere in the distance. Warmth, then heat, then chill. The sound of scuffling feet, doors opening and closing. A shock of pain, followed by a deep burning in the limbs.
Hakon felt as if he were swimming under ice, searching for the opening that would free him from his limbo. He could hear the voices overhead, could almost see the faces and the amorphous outlines of bodies, but he could not quite reach them, could not quite release himself from his murky prison.
Suddenly the ice melted, and the shapes took form around him. Women. Two women—one old, one young. A room. A fur blanket. Two small flames burning in their metal sconces. Hakon tried to move. A sharp pain prevented it. He submitted with a gasp. He tried to speak, but his mouth and throat felt
