The stranger stayed at the village for another few days, but he did not speak to Sif, so Sif did not seek him out. The fact that he had felt want made him determined not to show it.

It seemed that he was watching the funeral, and learning of how it had come to pass. Sif saw him watching when tribute was offered in the morning, saw him speaking to the coven and the girl's father.

That was fine. Sif was a failure as a god, so what did it matter if some stranger knew he had failed? It wasn't as though the man could tell Helna.

On the last day, then, the man left.

Sif knew he had left, because Rágn came through the front door and stomped through the room, stopping to stand by Sif and the hearth.

" Grandmother told me that man had bothered you," he said. " Did you really speak alone with him?"

Sif yawned, nodding.

" He didn't disrespect you? You weren't offended by him? If he did anything to harm Lady Hélna, I'll chase him down the road myself," he declared.

Sif indicated that everything had been perfectly fine, vaguely amused. If Rágn felt so strongly, why wait until the man had left to complain? Such a strange fellow.

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