Ahem. Some of my awesome readers felt that Renic's behavior towards the end of the last chapter was, in a word, sulky. Now I don't generally rush off to change things unless I feel, in my heart, that they're right. While I understand that Renic lost some control and was technically peeved at himself, not Brenna, it looks like he came across as sulky and affronted. Which, you're all right, does not feel Renic-like. So I tweaked the ending of the last chapter quite a bit, and I now feel that Renic's reaction seems waaay more authentically him. So thank you KAMMS18 cutthisout and greekgoddess18 for the thoughtful input ❤️ Now, on with the show.

"I cannot think that Aila should be so confident of that wolf posing no threat to the children," said Katla nervously.

She was standing at the threshold of the cottage beside Brenna, the two women watching as Freki climbed all over a sleeping Váli, the wolf seemingly oblivious to the child's antics.

Brenna gave a careless shrug, understanding that the children were in no safer company than Váli's. Her mind was more heavily occupied with their intriguing uncle, as opposed to the children themselves. At any event, Heida and Aila were just inside the cottage with Epona. If they were not worried, then neither should she or Katla be.

Brenna turned the little wooden falcon over in her hands, her fingers stroking the smoothed surface pensively. The carving had migrated from beneath her pillow to the beaded thong attached to her brooches the very day that news of Renic's death had reached her. It had never left her heartside since.

"It will be full moon tomorrow." Katla gave an anxious shiver, peering restlessly into the forest as though the beast in the woods might jump out at her at any moment.

"Yes." Brenna compressed her lips and shot the girl a sidelong glance. "Best prepare your fattest goat for the sacrifice; I see blood on the moon..." And she did. After all, there would be two beasts in the woods to worry about tomorrow. Not one.

Katla, meanwhile, who had not been at her ease to begin with, had given a small gasp in response and huddled deeper into her cloak. Thereafter she said nothing more, peering ever and anon at the cottage door, ostensibly hopping that Epona would hurry out so that she would not have to linger here beside Brenna much longer.

Brenna gave a silent snort, and a careless shake of her head. No one had bade the girl to wait outside, but she was determined to do so, timid creature. Moreover, Brenna was gratified by the silence that ensued, for she was in no mood to make idle pleasantries. Neither with Katla nor with any of the villagers did she feel obliged to do so. They all viewed Brenna and her mother with unveiled mistrust, perhaps not Katla or Eir so much, but certainly the rest of the clansmen and women. For that, Brenna kept herself just as aloof from them as they did from her.

As expected, Epona finally appeared at the door with a basket of herbs, roots, and tinctures that Eir, the cunning woman, had sent her daughter to fetch. It was through Eir that Epona was, at times, of help to the villagers, for the worst of the maladies at least, little thought they knew or appreciated it.

Epona transferred the hamper carefully into Katla's waiting hands. Katla, as a matter of course, thanked her and placed at their door the brace of fattened hares she'd brought in payment. With a smile of thanks Epona then gestured for the girl to be on her way, and so, affecting a last little wave, the young woman turned to leave.

Heida had by this time joined them at the door and the three women watched as young Katla scurried down the pathway, flinching whenever a tall, deathly blue aconite bent its head in her direction, as if taunting the skittish girl. Epona, with knowing dark eyes, and her hair flying wildly about her in the wind, gave a wry shake of her head just as Brenna had done moments before.

"How old is that wolfhound," said Heida suddenly, changing the course of their scrutiny. The pale grey of her eyes were fastened to her boys; and to the black wolf that lay obediently beside them. "I do not remember a time that he has not had a presence here."

He was an odd animal, to be sure. Brenna recalled that he had never left Roth and Renic's side when they were younger; however, when they'd ... transformed to adulthood, the wolf had become all the more scarce. Then, when Finn had been born, Váli's presence had once more become a fixture here. And she wagered that when Finn and Freki attained their ... maturity, Váli would relax his guard over them as well. Till the next generation followed; and the one after that.

"You are almost four-and-twenty," said Epona, "but that beast is older still." She ushered the girls inside to the hearth and latched the door, for there was a distinct bite in the air.

The boys, contrariwise, were as oblivious to the chill as their father had always been, so there was no need to call them in. There was no danger to them here, save the aconites of course, but they knew not to touch them. Not that Váli would have allowed it had they been of mind to do so.

"Then he is twice as old as even the oldest of Eirik's hounds!" Heida said, moving to sit beside Aila.

"That is because he is no ordinary wolf," Aila replied, sipping her tea, "but one of Loki's familiars."

"I see." Heida took a thoughtful bite of her lip as she digested that.

The conversation waxed comfortably after that, as it always did, but in this instance Brenna took no part. She could not forebear thinking of the agonizing lapse of time and how it hung above her like an ax. Moreover, it rankled to think of how little she'd seen of Renic in the past week. And soon he would be gone from them indefinitely.

It appeared that that thought weighed heavily on Aila's mind as well. "The moon will be full tomorrow," said she. Though her words were an exact echo of Katla's, the meaning behind one woman's remark was vastly different from the other's. Aila's eyes flickered to Brenna, an unspoken question settling over her countenance.

"Ay, and thereafter Renic will leave as planned, Aila." Brenna stared hopelessly into her tea. Whatever it was he felt for Brenna, she had now to resign herself to the fact that it was not enough to make him stay.

But Aila withheld comment, and her measured look seemed to imply that she was unconvinced of that. And for just a moment, under that yew tree not so so many nights ago, Brenna too had thought otherwise.

Whilst Brenna had answered Aila, Epona had, meanwhile, begun transferring aconite roots — which she handled with leathern gloves — from a basket into a water barrel in the corner where none of the warmth from the fire could reach it.

"Whatever are you doing there, Epona?" Aila asked, her violet eyes shrewdly following her friend's movements. "Brewing poisons for my sons?"

Epona clucked her tongue irritably. "If I wanted them dead, they would be dead." She threw Aila a peevish glare over her shoulder. "And had that been the case I wouldn't be foolish enough to plan their demise right in front of you now would I?"

Aila gave a suspicious shrug. "You are a wily woman, Epona. I do not presume to guess at your schemes."

"I will not poison your sons," she said tartly.

Again. Brenna averted her eyes, lest Aila see the guilt she felt for her mother.

"Then why the vat of wolfsbane?"

"Something sinister is in the wind. I can taste it, and it tastes like foul business is afoot." She continued dumping large chunks of the deadly root into the cold water. "I do not question what the great goddess asks of me, I only do it."

"I feel it too," said Brenna, coming to her mother's defense.

"Very well," Aila replied, considering Brenna closely. "I know you will not harm Renic." She gave a satisfied nod and stared into her tea. After a pause, she took another sip from her cup and then threw a meaningful glance at Epona. "What tea is this, old friend?" she inquired archly.

"Mint," said Epona with a sly smile. "Your favorite."

The jest, for such it was, incited an ironic snort from Aila who thereafter continued drinking her tea in silence. It was a companionable silence in which Aila scrutinized the room and all the old shelves, furs, and furniture confined within its four walls. When she finally spoke again it was with solemnity. "This old place still seems somehow tainted with Elfa's presence; even after all these years."

"Nay," Epona said, throwing the last of the wolfsbane into the water, "I know for certain that the old harridan now haunts the darkest corner of Helheim, no doubt harassing poor old Hel herself."

Brenna smiled, shaking her head at her mother, for it was rare indeed that Epona spoke as anything but an outlander with her outlandish gods. Today she might very well have passed for a clanswoman with the way she spoke of Hel and Helheim.

"May she dwell with Hel forever," said Aila.

The cottage had once belonged to Aila's grandmother. When her perfidy had been discovered, Ívarr had had a small cottage built for her and she had therewith been banished here until she'd breathed her last wretched breath. Long before she'd died, however, she too had practiced seidr, and for a time, because her misdeeds were never made known to the rest of the clan, she was the only cunning woman to whom the sick applied for treatments to their ailments.

Heida peered sadly into her cup, understanding perfectly the dark jest that her mother and Epona had shared. "Well, it matters not that I should drink the womansbane." It was, in sooth, merely an innocuous cup of mint tea that warmed Heida's hands and belly at present, but the tale of Elfa's wickedness, more specifically how Aila had been affected by it, was like the echo of her own pain. "My womb is already a wasteland." With that said she swallowed the whole of what lay in her cup, the dregs included.

Epona and Brenna exchanged an uneasy glance before Epona joined them by the hearth fire. "Tell me, child, what exactly were you told by ... that voice."

"It was my mother, I know it was. I am not mad." Heida's eyes flashed like quicksilver.

"I do not refute that. Not for an instant have I ever thought you mad, but I want her words exactly as she said them."

"I asked ... I asked if I would bear Roth's children and I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I would not." Heida appeared thoughtful a brief moment as she recalled the conversation. "No children. No sons. That was what she said."

"I see," said Epona, her eyes traveling down to Heida's flat belly. "Hmm."

"I find it curious," said Aila unexpectedly, "that Brynja chose to tell you you would have no children as apposed to just saying you would be childless."

"What is that to the purpose?" Heida transferred her gaze warily to Aila.

"Why, everything to the purpose. Did you not think to ask her if you would have a daughter? If indeed you would have one child at least?"

"Well, no. I did not think to. I assumed that—"

"If there is one thing I have learned, whilst dealing with the gods, it is that you should be very careful of how you form your questions, daughter. And even more careful of how you choose to interpret their answers."

"Then..." Heida dropped widened eyes to her midriff, placing a reverent hands over her womb. "Is it quite possible that I may be...?"

"Yes," Brenna answered. "You are with child. I see it even now."

"And you can tell it is a girl child?" The tears were now streaming happily down Heida's face, her hands trembling with disbelief.

"No, I see only life, but nothing of its sex." And that the life was nothing natural.

"By Frigg! Thank you!" Heida threw her hands over her face and wept as Aila enfolded the girl in a tight embrace. "I thought I was cursed!"

"But you are cursed." Epona's voice was like the bitter strike of iron upon ice. The words, uttered so coldly, instantly siphoned the color from Heida's cheeks. "Make no mistake of that, my girl. And so too is your child."

🌙A/N🌙

Of course, you all saw that coming too! *Shakes fist* Have I no more tricks up my sleeves?! Gah!