The next morning, he was impatient to finish with his offerings; his mind wandered as he blessed oak saplings growing on the edge of the valley. Even the old woman seemed to notice he was off, and wrung her hands nervously.

" Lady Hélna, does something in the land trouble you? Go attend to your business, we will wait to make your dinner until you return this evening," she said. " The foolish desires of mortals are not worth ignoring divine matters."

Sif nodded, relieved that the old woman had grown to understand him so well.

He bounded off, intent on returning to the creek.

He had realized that the hand was something he could not ignore as he lay down to sleep with his kittens the night before. It had a wicked nature, and Sif was not nearly as strong as Helna was; if it beckoned someone over, how was he to know until it was too late? It was a miracle it hadn't eaten anyone already, with his negligence.

These were Helna's people, after all, and he felt he must look after them. It was fine if they died naturally, but something unnatural like the hand should be repelled. Even Helna had said so.

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