own mind. He knows where they come from and is not afraid of them.
His consciousness fades out again.
Other sounds assail him: his own words uttered an eternity ago that have stayed with him ever since. Words he should never have spoken.
Words at once so trivial and yet so immeasurable.
20
HE DROVE BACK the same way, once again avoiding the tunnel between Fáskrúdsfjördur and Reydarfjördur. The going was slower than it had been that morning but his four-wheel drive negotiated the road over Vattarnesskridur without any difficulty. He was aware that the drop to the sea in these parts was known, appropriately enough, as Manndrápsgil, or ‘Death Gorge’. Below him, he could just make out the islands of Skrúdur and Andey.
Daylight was fading and the misty radiance from the smelter site cast a ghostly light over Reydarfjördur Fjord. He wondered if he should visit Hrund now, while Ninna’s information was still fresh in his mind, and decided there was no reason to delay. As he drove up to her house, however, he noticed that she was not at her usual post by the window.
He approached the front door, knocked, waited, then knocked again. Hrund was not at home. Not daring to barge straight in again, he did a circuit of the house, trying to peer in through the windows. No lights or movement were visible. When he returned to the front door and gripped the handle, he discovered that it was unlocked, so he stepped cautiously inside, calling Hrund’s name. No answer. Closing the door behind him, he groped his way to the sitting room where the chair stood by the window, then suddenly got cold feet, struck by the fear of appearing rude. Hrund had probably just gone out to the shops and would be back any minute: he did not want to be caught in her house. Returning to the front door, he opened it and was about to make a quick exit when he happened to glance down the hall to the kitchen. In the faint glow from the street lights, he saw Hrund’s legs stretched out on the floor. Hurrying into the kitchen, he found her lying on her side, her eyes shut. He laid his fingers on her neck and detected a weak pulse, then located her phone and dialled the emergency number. Afterwards, he fetched a blanket from the sitting room and laid it over her but was afraid to touch her otherwise. She was unconscious. The door had been unlocked when he arrived but he had not been aware of anyone else near the house and did not suspect foul play.
Hearing a weak moan, he knelt beside her.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
Hrund opened her eyes and looked around in confusion.
‘Are you all right?’
She tried to sit up but he told her to lie still; he had rung for an ambulance and it would be here very soon. He asked if she had a pain in her chest or head but she indicated that she did not.
‘Diabetes,’ she croaked.
‘You mustn’t try to talk,’ Erlendur said. ‘You’re burning up. Where can I find sugar?’
‘In the cupboard . . .’
He stood up.
‘I suppose I’ll have to . . . go to hospital . . .’
Erlendur found a sugar lump and fed it to her, then fetched a cushion from the sofa, placed it under her head and tucked the blanket better around her. He went outside in search of the ambulance. Though the regional hospital was thirty kilometres away in Neskaupstadur, with any luck they would have an ambulance stationed in the village because of the construction work.
Hrund was still in the same position when he came back. She asked him to help her up off the floor and he was hesitant at first, unsure if he should move her. Eventually, at her insistence, he helped her to sit up on a kitchen chair.
‘I should have known. It starts like the flu, then just gets worse. All it takes is the slightest scratch and I end up with blood poisoning.’
‘They should be here shortly. What can I do to help?’
‘Why do you keep coming here?’ she asked, her voice low and breathless, drained of all strength.
‘Perhaps you should lie
His consciousness fades out again.
Other sounds assail him: his own words uttered an eternity ago that have stayed with him ever since. Words he should never have spoken.
Words at once so trivial and yet so immeasurable.
20
HE DROVE BACK the same way, once again avoiding the tunnel between Fáskrúdsfjördur and Reydarfjördur. The going was slower than it had been that morning but his four-wheel drive negotiated the road over Vattarnesskridur without any difficulty. He was aware that the drop to the sea in these parts was known, appropriately enough, as Manndrápsgil, or ‘Death Gorge’. Below him, he could just make out the islands of Skrúdur and Andey.
Daylight was fading and the misty radiance from the smelter site cast a ghostly light over Reydarfjördur Fjord. He wondered if he should visit Hrund now, while Ninna’s information was still fresh in his mind, and decided there was no reason to delay. As he drove up to her house, however, he noticed that she was not at her usual post by the window.
He approached the front door, knocked, waited, then knocked again. Hrund was not at home. Not daring to barge straight in again, he did a circuit of the house, trying to peer in through the windows. No lights or movement were visible. When he returned to the front door and gripped the handle, he discovered that it was unlocked, so he stepped cautiously inside, calling Hrund’s name. No answer. Closing the door behind him, he groped his way to the sitting room where the chair stood by the window, then suddenly got cold feet, struck by the fear of appearing rude. Hrund had probably just gone out to the shops and would be back any minute: he did not want to be caught in her house. Returning to the front door, he opened it and was about to make a quick exit when he happened to glance down the hall to the kitchen. In the faint glow from the street lights, he saw Hrund’s legs stretched out on the floor. Hurrying into the kitchen, he found her lying on her side, her eyes shut. He laid his fingers on her neck and detected a weak pulse, then located her phone and dialled the emergency number. Afterwards, he fetched a blanket from the sitting room and laid it over her but was afraid to touch her otherwise. She was unconscious. The door had been unlocked when he arrived but he had not been aware of anyone else near the house and did not suspect foul play.
Hearing a weak moan, he knelt beside her.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
Hrund opened her eyes and looked around in confusion.
‘Are you all right?’
She tried to sit up but he told her to lie still; he had rung for an ambulance and it would be here very soon. He asked if she had a pain in her chest or head but she indicated that she did not.
‘Diabetes,’ she croaked.
‘You mustn’t try to talk,’ Erlendur said. ‘You’re burning up. Where can I find sugar?’
‘In the cupboard . . .’
He stood up.
‘I suppose I’ll have to . . . go to hospital . . .’
Erlendur found a sugar lump and fed it to her, then fetched a cushion from the sofa, placed it under her head and tucked the blanket better around her. He went outside in search of the ambulance. Though the regional hospital was thirty kilometres away in Neskaupstadur, with any luck they would have an ambulance stationed in the village because of the construction work.
Hrund was still in the same position when he came back. She asked him to help her up off the floor and he was hesitant at first, unsure if he should move her. Eventually, at her insistence, he helped her to sit up on a kitchen chair.
‘I should have known. It starts like the flu, then just gets worse. All it takes is the slightest scratch and I end up with blood poisoning.’
‘They should be here shortly. What can I do to help?’
‘Why do you keep coming here?’ she asked, her voice low and breathless, drained of all strength.
‘Perhaps you should lie
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