One afternoon when the wind carried the smallest taste of spring, Mira was visited by Gorn, the town cook. Fell was at sea with several other men as the ice had begun to crack enough for the first big fishing day of the season. The cook stood awkwardly, opening his mouth to speak but then closing it again several times. It was strange to be visited by him as he and Mira were not close.

“Do you need anything extra?” he said. “Since you are healing and all... at meals, I mean.”

Mira shook her head. “I have no complaints.”

Gorn took a seat and stared at baby Halvar for a moment.

“I have come to ask you a question,” he said finally.

Mira laughed, putting aside her harp and giving the man her full attention. “Ask it then.”

“Myret has answered it for me, many times already, only I do not like her answer. She told me to come to you. She said maybe you would see something she did not in my problem.”

Gorn was large, especially around the middle, with a face that always seemed to be flushed red and beaming with a drunken grin. Mira had never seen him sit so still.

“I will listen,” she said. “I do not know if I can help.”

“It is about my brother. He is—you do not know him, he lives in another town further north—we have not been close… or... well, we have not spoken in many years. I have done all I can think of to change this, but nothing has worked.”

It was a strange question to bring to her. What did Mira know about mending the bonds between brothers?

“I do not think I can help.”

“You could ask the stones. Myret says they speak to you.”

Mira didn’t want to, seeing as she thought the stones were just a foolish game—they’d been wrong about when Fell disappeared, they might be wrong about this as well—but Gorn was sitting in front of her, looking sore and sad, so she agreed.

The stones were giddy to be taken back out; she could feel them humming in the bear-skin pouch.

Get ready! they seemed to be teasing.

Mira scattered them on the floor and laughed.

“You have not told me the full story. You went to bed with his woman? One he loved?”

Gorn nodded, his face growing redder than usual, his eyes clouding with water. “I was young and foolish. I would change it if I could.”

“Your part in it hurt him far more than hers.”

Gorn nodded. “Can I fix it? This is what I want to know.”

Mira did not know what to tell him. The stones spoke of pain, not healing. She gathered them up and shook them around, focusing her mind more. How can it be repaired?

When the stones landed, they appeared to be smirking at her.

“You have two chances to fix things. The first will be when your mother dies, and the two of you meet again to put her boat to sea. Has this already happened?”

Gorn nodded. “Three years ago. We saw each other, but we did not speak.”

“The second chance involves something embarrassing. You will have the choice to let yourself be seen as a fool by all, in front of your brother. He cannot handle embarrassment well; this is also why what happened hurt him so much. He would rather speak to you than have you debase yourself in front of everyone.”

A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Gorn’s mouth, and a whispery laugh began deep in his chest, growing louder and bolder until it filled the tent. “Humiliate myself! This is your advice?”

Mira shrugged. “It is what I thought of when I looked at the stones. You do not have to listen. They have told me wrong things before.”

“No, it is clever, worth trying. Everything else has failed… but I have not tried this... and he... ha! My brother is so very easy to embarrass.” Gorn dug around in his furs and pulled out two silver coins. “Thank you.”

Mira did not want the coin. “A better payment would be not telling anyone else that I have done this for you. I should not like to be known for it.”

“Why not?”

The casting stones seemed curious too. Mira felt like they were looking at her. Yes, why not?

“I am not sure they… in my country, this is seen as an evil thing to do. I do not know if I trust them.”

Gorn scratched at his big red beard. “You have maybe just ended an eight-year feud between brothers—how can that be evil?”

Gorn left as Mira began collecting the stones and dropping them into the pouch Myret had made, leaving his two coins on the floor. When he’d been gone for a few moments, and the last few stones were gathered up in Mira’s palm, she hesitated. Instead of dropping the bones into their pouch, she ran her fingers along the cold, smooth surface of them, enjoying the slickness, the way they fit so perfectly into her palm.

Instead of putting them away, she pulled new ones out.

Are you evil? she asked as she cast.

We want to be friends. We can make you powerful.

The answer frightened Mira. It seemed like something an evil force might say in a fairytale. She put them away and buried the little sack beneath some furs piled in the corner.

***

The day Mira first saw the grass again was a wonderful one. It was only a small patch, damp and dead. But she knew the world was waking up, and it filled her with joy. She spent the day outside with Halvar, breathing in the hint of spring to come. The baby had recently gained enough control over his body to hold things, often grasping onto his own feet, and when Mira spoke to him, he would make noise back to her. She pretended often that they were having a conversation. She would react as if he said something scandalous and felt that he could sense how a conversation should flow.

When Fell returned that evening, Halvar was on his stomach, trying to pick up a twig that had found its way into the tent. But he heard Fell’s voice and pushed his little arms against the ground, propping his torso up so he could watch his father.

“Look at him!” Fell shouted. “He’s so strong!”

Fell rolled onto the floor, so his face was near Halvar’s and laughed as the child tried to grip onto his cheeks. And Halvar laughed, the strange breathy laugh of a baby. He had not done that before either.

The beautiful sound made Fell laugh harder, which made Halvar laugh harder. The fit went on for nearly an hour until everyone’s stomach hurt, and Halvar was hungry again.

As Mira fed the child, she told Fell about seeing the grass and how she felt that the world was waking up.

Fell laughed at her. “It is a false spring. You will see.”

Fell was right, it was another moon still before spring came in full, and the tiniest of green bulbs began to sprout on empty branches. Daily, Mira found new things that brought her joy as the world calmed around her. She felt safe and happy and wanted for nothing.