street.’
‘I told you, there were eleven.’
Snæbjörn Guðmundsson regarded him solemnly.
‘I only saw eight,’ he said.
Zen laughed harshly, getting some of his own back at last
‘Maybe you need glasses!’
‘There are no glasses made for this.’
‘For what?’
Guðmundsson sighed.
‘We call it fylgja . It’s a special faculty. People who have it are called skyggn . All children are skyggn until they’re about five, andmany after that. Almost all lose it when they reach puberty, but a few people retain the gift into adult life. It appears that you may be one of them, Dottor Zen. If so, you are only the second foreigner I’ve ever heard of with this faculty.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
The consul laughed.
‘And when I tell you, you’re going to think that I’m drunk. But try and accept that this is a well-attested phenomenon. What it means, of course, is another matter. It’s like talking about religion . You may believe in God or you may not, but it’s a perfectly respectable intellectual position to hold that God does not exist and that religion is simply a tissue of meretricious falsehoods designed to give people an illusory sense of purpose. What is not a respectable intellectual position is to hold that people do not have religious experiences. You follow me?’
‘What’s all this got to do with whatever it is you said I had or was?’
‘It’s completely analogous. Some people believe in the existence of the huldufolk , others don’t. Their existence is therefore debatable. What is not debatable is that there are people who claim to be able to see them.’
‘See who, for God’s sake?’
‘The “hidden people”. Traditionally, they have been regarded as a race of supernatural beings who live all around us, but in a parallel dimension which is only perceptible to those who are skyggn.’
‘But you surely don’t believe in this nonsense, do you?’
Snæbjörn Guðmundsson shrugged.
‘I don’t have fylgja , so it’s all rather theoretical. I’m simply trying to come up with a rational explanation for what happened to you last night, the people you saw in the street, and the one you say attacked you.’
‘A rational explanation based on totally irrational premises. If the police camera didn’t pick him up, it’s because he was dark skinned and wearing dark clothing, that’s all.’
The consul laughed.
‘Iceland is an odd place, dottore . Geologically, it’s the youngest landmass on the planet. Think of it as the pizza country. It’s about the same shape, and hot out of the oven. Up north they have geysers ,volcanoes, lava flows. You can stand there and watch the terrible process of the earth being made, right in front of your eyes, while across the fjord the glaciers are calving icebergs. But enough of all this abstruse talk. How about some lunch?’
Zen shivered visibly.
‘I couldn’t eat a thing.’
And he meant it. He was hungry, but not for anything you could get here. He needed food for his soul. He needed to go home, before he crossed to the other side of the shadow line Snæbjörn Guðmundsson had described, and became one of the huldufolk himself, an invisible alien haunting the streets of this unreal city where it was always midday on the thirtieth of February.
‘I think I’ll go and lie down for a bit,’ he said. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night.’
Guðmundsson nodded.
‘Of course. I’ll let you know if there are any developments.’
He was awakened by a light tapping at the door. It opened to reveal the consul.
‘You have a visitor,’ he said.
Zen rolled up off the bed. It was like being back in hospital, he thought. People came in and out of your room and told you what to do next. He had been living like this for almost a year now. When would he sleep in his own bed again? But where was that bed? Rome, he supposed, but the idea didn’t carry complete conviction .
His visitor turned out to be þórunn
‘I told you, there were eleven.’
Snæbjörn Guðmundsson regarded him solemnly.
‘I only saw eight,’ he said.
Zen laughed harshly, getting some of his own back at last
‘Maybe you need glasses!’
‘There are no glasses made for this.’
‘For what?’
Guðmundsson sighed.
‘We call it fylgja . It’s a special faculty. People who have it are called skyggn . All children are skyggn until they’re about five, andmany after that. Almost all lose it when they reach puberty, but a few people retain the gift into adult life. It appears that you may be one of them, Dottor Zen. If so, you are only the second foreigner I’ve ever heard of with this faculty.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
The consul laughed.
‘And when I tell you, you’re going to think that I’m drunk. But try and accept that this is a well-attested phenomenon. What it means, of course, is another matter. It’s like talking about religion . You may believe in God or you may not, but it’s a perfectly respectable intellectual position to hold that God does not exist and that religion is simply a tissue of meretricious falsehoods designed to give people an illusory sense of purpose. What is not a respectable intellectual position is to hold that people do not have religious experiences. You follow me?’
‘What’s all this got to do with whatever it is you said I had or was?’
‘It’s completely analogous. Some people believe in the existence of the huldufolk , others don’t. Their existence is therefore debatable. What is not debatable is that there are people who claim to be able to see them.’
‘See who, for God’s sake?’
‘The “hidden people”. Traditionally, they have been regarded as a race of supernatural beings who live all around us, but in a parallel dimension which is only perceptible to those who are skyggn.’
‘But you surely don’t believe in this nonsense, do you?’
Snæbjörn Guðmundsson shrugged.
‘I don’t have fylgja , so it’s all rather theoretical. I’m simply trying to come up with a rational explanation for what happened to you last night, the people you saw in the street, and the one you say attacked you.’
‘A rational explanation based on totally irrational premises. If the police camera didn’t pick him up, it’s because he was dark skinned and wearing dark clothing, that’s all.’
The consul laughed.
‘Iceland is an odd place, dottore . Geologically, it’s the youngest landmass on the planet. Think of it as the pizza country. It’s about the same shape, and hot out of the oven. Up north they have geysers ,volcanoes, lava flows. You can stand there and watch the terrible process of the earth being made, right in front of your eyes, while across the fjord the glaciers are calving icebergs. But enough of all this abstruse talk. How about some lunch?’
Zen shivered visibly.
‘I couldn’t eat a thing.’
And he meant it. He was hungry, but not for anything you could get here. He needed food for his soul. He needed to go home, before he crossed to the other side of the shadow line Snæbjörn Guðmundsson had described, and became one of the huldufolk himself, an invisible alien haunting the streets of this unreal city where it was always midday on the thirtieth of February.
‘I think I’ll go and lie down for a bit,’ he said. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night.’
Guðmundsson nodded.
‘Of course. I’ll let you know if there are any developments.’
He was awakened by a light tapping at the door. It opened to reveal the consul.
‘You have a visitor,’ he said.
Zen rolled up off the bed. It was like being back in hospital, he thought. People came in and out of your room and told you what to do next. He had been living like this for almost a year now. When would he sleep in his own bed again? But where was that bed? Rome, he supposed, but the idea didn’t carry complete conviction .
His visitor turned out to be þórunn
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