I wake confused, caught between sorrow and panic. The dream releases its grip on me and I glance at the window. We made it through the night at least – the creature didn’t come back. Judging from the light creeping under the curtain, it has to be at least eleven o’ clock. And then I remember, and my heart sinks.
I sit up and rub my neck. Stig is in the kitchen with his back to me, making coffee. The sleeves of his sloppy, oversized jumper are rolled up, showing his strong forearms. Something inside me flickers at the sight of his tight jeans and long hair. I want to put my arms around him and hold him tight. I pull my gaze away, reminding myself of how rejected I felt last night.
I step into the kitchen and he hands me a cup of coffee. I take it with a small ‘thanks’, then reach past him and open the curtain. Huge white flakes swirl down, as fat as goose feathers. The tree is only just visible through the snow. Its branches are still, as if it’s gathering strength.
I swallow a mouthful of coffee. ‘About last –’
Stig speaks at the same time. ‘I’ve been –’
We look at one another awkwardly. I wrap my fingers around my cup. ‘You first.’
‘I wanted to thank you for what you said about Dad, about it not being my fault.’
An image of the Norn with her shears flashes into my mind. I consider telling Stig about my dream, but then I remember the kiss that didn’t come and how stupid I felt.
‘That’s OK,’ I say, forcing myself to smile.
He glances at my face as if he expects me to say something. I finish my coffee and then lay the cup by the sink.
Stig’s eyes widen as I reach for my coat and shrug into it. ‘You’re not going out there?’
I grit my teeth and wait for the argument to come.
‘Wait a few hours. If your mum isn’t here before it gets dark, then –’
‘And if her plane can’t land, or the ferry isn’t running? Or her car gets stuck in the snow?’
Stig glares at me and I return his stare. ‘I promised to wait until it got light, and I have. But I can’t put if off any more. Mormor is out there – she needs me!’
Stig grabs the back of a chair and it screeches against the floor. ‘I won’t let you go out there, even if I have to tie you to this chair!’
My chest flushes with anger. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’
I stomp towards the door, but he blocks my way with the chair and I fall over it, cursing.
‘Please, it’s not safe for you. I can’t let you go!’
I push myself up, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘Because I’m half blind? I can manage, thanks.’
‘You’re not seeing things clearly!’ he yells.
I point to my left eye. ‘I wonder why?’
Stig huffs and flaps his arms. ‘All the comments you keep making about your eye. Don’t think I haven’t noticed! I don’t know why you have to make such a big deal of it.’
I step back, hurt and shocked. ‘What?’
‘Yes, your left eye looks weird and you have a scar, but it’s not that interesting!’
I open my mouth then close it again, too upset to answer. I had hoped that because of the goth thing he might like girls who are extreme-looking. He might like me because I look different.
His voice softens. ‘Actually, your eye is the least interesting thing about you.’
I pause, feeling deflated, but also wondering if there might be a compliment in there somewhere. Stig takes advantage of my hesitation and pushes past me. He stands by the front door, barring my way.
‘What were you going to say to me just now?’ he asks.
‘Nothing.’
He folds his arms across his chest.
I shove on my boots, then grab my hat and scarf, not looking at him. ‘It can wait.’
He gently touches the collar of my coat. ‘Please don’t go. Your mum will be here soon. It’s safer inside.’
I sigh, unable to meet his gaze. I felt so close to him last night. So close I was sure he was going to kiss me. I think about the hordes of people snatching at the tree, all haunted by regret, tormented by the things they wish they’d done differently. I can’t face the thought of him rejecting me again, but if I don’t tell him how I feel, will I always regret it? It was so easy for Skuld to chop away a life with her shears – if the creature is out there, maybe it will be my thread she cuts next.
Stig strokes my cheek and I put my hand over his, meaning to pull it away. As soon as I touch his skin, my chest tightens. I don’t want to spend my life hiding away, not getting close. Afraid to be hurt.
Stig swallows hard. ‘I couldn’t bear it if –’
I stand on tiptoes and kiss him, full on the lips.
He pulls away like he’s been slapped.
Anger and shame burn inside me.
‘Martha?’
‘I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to …’ I splutter. ‘It won’t happen again, OK!’
Dizzy with hurt, I push past him and reach for the door.
‘I like you, Martha. I do! It’s just –’
‘You don’t have to explain!’
Keeping my head down, I slide back the bolt and yank the door open. Wind and snow roar into the cabin. I know what he’s going to say. He likes me, but not in that way.
Stig grabs my arm. ‘Wait! Don’t go like this.’
Why can’t he leave me alone? Haven’t I been humiliated enough?
I shrug him off and stumble into a blizzard. A tear spills from my eye as I jump down the porch steps, my boots sinking in snow. I raise my arm against the vicious spit of ice and gasp as the cold air burns my throat. Anger pumps my legs faster. I trudge around the side of the cabin, tears streaming down my frozen cheeks.
I pull my gloves from my pockets, but my hands are shaking and I can’t get them on. ‘Stupid idiot!’ I should have put them on before I came out. The snow is coming down so heavily I can only just see the tree. I shove my bare hands into my armpits and lumber towards it.
‘Faen! Faen! Faen!’
Stig’s voice gets louder with each curse. I wipe my face on my sleeve as a black shape half runs, half stumbles towards me. He’s wearing his coat but hasn’t stopped to put on his hat. The snow is whirling thick and fast. I blink and see him, only to lose him again.
‘I wanted to kiss you! I’ve never met anyone like you!’
I turn towards his voice. ‘So why didn’t you then?’
A cruel wind cuts into my face. My pulse races as I stare about me. Suddenly there is only white. No cabin, no tree, no up or down.
‘Stig?’
The snow is blinding. Gandalf barks in warning, but I can’t see him. I’m somewhere between the tree and the cabin, but I don’t know which is closer. I take a few steps, then stumble. My breath is hard and fast, leaving great plumes on the air.
‘Martha!’
My name comes to me over the wind, and I whip around. Not trusting my sight, I stagger towards Stig’s voice. I see the back of his head and my heart falters. He’s a dozen paces away to my left, walking in the wrong direction.
I run towards him. ‘Stig!’
He spins around.
A dark shape emerges from the snow. A half-human creature.
I gasp as it strides towards me. Strips of brown leathery skin hang from its skull, and its head is covered with dirty, matted hair.
I stand, unable to move, the air frozen in my lungs.
Stig runs towards me from the other side, waving his arms and yelling.
It’s coming right at me.
Stig yanks my arm, jolting me out of my trance. ‘Go, Martha!’ He pushes me away, then turns to face the creature. I run, desperately hoping I’m heading for the cabin.
Gasping for breath, I look back for Stig, but he’s not there. He’s on the ground.
‘No!’
I stare at the thing crouched over Stig’s body. It lifts its head and yellow eyes bulge in its face; its mouth a swollen, red wound.
My mind splinters into a million pieces. I rush towards Stig, then stop. Maybe he’s just injured … Maybe … Maybe …
Stig’s arm is bent awkwardly beneath him. I watch as his chest heaves and falls.
Please, Stig, get up. Just get up. I will him to stand and run. But he doesn’t.
Red seeps into the snow, too much red.
Stig’s eyes stare at the sky. His chest stops moving.
I scream until there’s nothing left.
The creature twists its head and pure evil stares at me.