When we emerge, night has turned to day. After a while we stop to rest and eat, though I do not feel like consuming anything.

Einar gathers moss, roots, and herbs and cooks them into a stew, and Oski runs their sword through a weasel and roasts it over the fire. It’s heartening to have meat again after such a long time, and Einar watches me until I have chewed every last bit of my portion. Every bite imbues me with strength, and I feel my old self returning. Einar prepares tea for me and offers a salve to rub on my chest. I notice he is most content when he is caring for someone and looking after them in this way.

We must leave the relative protection of the trees now and pass back across the barrens, retracing our steps toward the rocky badlands. Then we will have to pass the steep rocks that jut from the earth and will have to bypass the glacial fields to find the great geyser.

We set off walking, me struggling to keep up, and by afternoon we are at the edge of a volcanic field dotted with scalding jets of steam and lava. Somewhere out there is the geyser. And Wyrd.

“It is no wonder she was banished here,” says Oski, their anger apparent in their voice. “This place is like the realm of Hel.”

“Which way?” Einar asks, and it takes me a moment to realize he is asking me.

“Oh,” I say, glancing at my vegvisir. It isn’t moving. I pull out my runes and cast them onto the black earth, among the lava stones and strange green flowers growing between.

“Show us the way to Wyrd,” I say. My runes spark, and an image of a bindrune appears in the air before me. It’s a new vegvisir, this one made from burning light, and it rotates beyond my reach. I try to touch it, but it moves farther away, as if wanting me to follow it. I have never seen such a thing before. Sýr has never spoken of this.

“Runecaster,” Oski says. “What are you doing?”

“Do you see it?” I ask them, and they look around, everywhere but at the vegvisir.

I gather my runes and walk forward in the direction of the burning vegvisir. “This way. Follow me.”

We walk on as the sky grows darker and the blood-colored moon hangs ever higher in the sky. We don’t have many days before it eclipses and the competition at moonwater commences.

We spot a small hot spring along our path that is so enticing we all agree to take a moment to soothe our aching muscles. I’m reluctant to break our momentum yet again, and it’s a little odd that Oski doesn’t want to press on, but the steaming water is too inviting.

I’m not fond of the idea of Einar seeing me without my clothes on, given how skinny this journey is making me, but I can’t wait to slip into the warm waters. I peel off my gear and hurry to join Oski, who is already reclining in the pool. I try not to look at them, for they seem sensitive about the scars across their back and the strange lumps on their shoulder blades where their wings used to be.

Einar, for his part, does not stare at me. Nakedness is not something he should ever be ashamed of, for his form as it slips from the spring’s edge and into the water is very impressive. I don’t let my gaze linger, but I see enough to be sure of that.

We mean to have a quick warm-up, clean off some of the grime, and bolster ourselves with the healing minerals, but the water is so calming, so inviting…

Runa. I hear a whisper. Wake. Sýr’s voice? I look to the sky to see if I can find her face in the stars, but I notice that night has given way to day again, and the moon is even higher now. I stare at my fingers. The flesh is wrinkled and pale. How long have we been in the hot spring?

“Oski! Einar!” I say, but neither of them answers. They both float in contentment, oblivious to me.

“No,” I say, looking around. “This spring is enchanted!”

I turn to see if I can reach my runes, but they’re too far away, and every time I try to crawl from the spring, I grow so weary that I’m sucked back in. My spear. If I can just grab the tip of my spear, I can get free. I reach for it, and I’m so close. The tip of my longest finger makes contact with the cracked brown stone on the blunt end, and I inch it closer to me. Once I’ve got it in hand, I use it to hook my rune pouch and pull it toward me. I need to hurry before we’re bones and hanging flesh.

I shout to my runes, “Help us! Give me strength!”

They glow and begin to chatter, and I keep hold of the pouch as I feel a surge of power rush through me. Please work, I think as I drive the edge of my spear into the surrounding rocks. I pull with everything I have until I gain enough edge to pull myself free of the spring.

“Einar!” I shout, but he does not appear to hear me.

I place my runes around my neck and hold my spear out to him to grab onto. “Wake!” I shout, and I feel my runes clatter.

Both Oski and Einar blink as if waking from a long sleep. They look around in confusion and stare at me. I must be a sight. Naked, withered from the hot water, with wild hair and glowing runes and my spear pointed at them both.

“Hurry,” I urge.

Einar grasps my spear and I haul with all my strength until he is able to find purchase. He pulls himself up next to me, dripping and steaming in the cold night. Together we pull Oski from the water, and when they emerge, some of the skin on their back sloughs off, including one lone black feather.

They watch it fall to the ground, wet and matted, and then pick it up with so much sadness that I have to look away.

We all dress with haste, keeping our backs to the hot spring, as it still calls to us, its waters as alluring as ever. As we leave I glance back at it, and I swear it looks more like a mouth than a pool. I shudder.

“Are you okay?” Einar asks. “Don’t look back.”

I nod and lead on.

The day brightens as we walk, and we begin to see smaller geysers springing up around us. Before long we come to a large crater in the earth. A deep rumble forms, and then a huge column of water shoots skyward, reflecting the red hue of the sky.

As it rages I see a reflection, an image, in the water. It looks like a statue. When the water recedes back into the earth, so does the image.

“There,” I say, pointing beyond the geyser.

“Where?” asks Oski. “I don’t see anything.”

I walk over to a barren spot in the land. It looks as if nothing is here, but the ground in this spot is smooth while the rest of it is craggy with volcanic rock. Whatever lies in this spot, it’s invisible.

“What are you doing?” Einar asks. “What do you see?”

“Her,” I say. “A woman made of stone.”