I missed it desperately. Her mead hall had joined the world of Villmark with the world of the Minnesotan fishing village of Runde. Runde was in the modern world, or as modern as an economically deprived community that existed practically underneath the highway that ran from more important points to the south to other more important points to the north could be.
But I had friends there, and I missed them. I hoped the mead hall would be open again soon. At the very least, having a place close by to get out from under the dark cloud that hovered over Villmark would be a welcome respite.
"What boon do you have to ask of us, then?" Valki asked.
"My granddaughter and our volva, Ingrid Torfudottir, has been sensing a threat to all of us. But the threat is a veiled one," my grandmother said.
"
