The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas, Elizabeth Rokkan

of contour.
    Today the snow on the palace had been swept away, so that it appeared in its true shape. The bird noticed the change and sent a lightning slash downwards: the splintering eyes first, and himself following. He made an abrupt turn in the middle of his stripe, swung in order to brake, came on again and sliced close by the wall of ice. Then he climbed to a dizzy height and turned into a small black speck in the sky.
    The next moment he was on his way down again. Another line was drawn in front of the ice palace at precisely the same point. He was an unfettered bird, threatened by no one, at liberty to do as he liked, to be fascinated when he so wished.
    He could not leave the spot. Nor could he pounce, or settle – only slice past the ice wall like a dark puff of wind. The next minute far away on the horizon or spiralling upwards; the next moment past the ice wall again at the same point. He was no longer a completely unfettered bird with steel claws and accompanying wind. He was bound fast here, the prisoner of his own freedom, unable to give up. What he saw confused him.
    He would cut himself fatally with his own shreds – as hard as glass where they showed the least. But they ripped up the air. He could not avoid being ripped up himself.

11
An Empty Seat
    School and the winter took their usual course. Siss stood by the wall in the breaks. The others had become used to it. The weeks passed, each one like the next. The big search for Unn had been shelved.
    Siss stood by the wall, keeping her promise. A new girl had taken over as leader of the group.
    On such a winter’s morning a strange girl entered the classroom. She was the same age as the others and had come to join their class. Her parents had moved to the district a couple of days ago.
    At once the atmosphere was tense. Siss saw, with a start of surprise, that they had not forgotten. The empty desk left by Unn was immediately the centre of attention. The girl stood there, a stranger to it all, looking about her. The others went to their places.
    The girl saw there was a vacant place in the middle of the room and took a couple of steps towards it. Then she paused, and asked them, ‘Is this one free?’
    They all looked at Siss: Siss who of late had become a different person; Siss whom they longed to get back again. Now they could show her how interested they were in her. Siss felt their sympathy like a wave, and it rebounded back from her, while her cheeks coloured: a fleeting joy she had not imagined possible.
    ‘No,’ she said to the girl, out of all these sensations.
    The girl looked surprised.
    ‘It’s
never
free,’ said Siss, and the whole class straightenedup in their desks in a common recognition of something they had not known they felt: that they suddenly wished to defend Unn’s place. They looked at the innocent newcomer with dislike, as if she had already disgraced herself.
    There were no more desks, and the girl remained standing in front of the class until the teacher arrived. The tension increased.
    ‘And now let’s find you a desk,’ he said, when the introductions were over. He looked at the class for a moment before taking the obvious decision. ‘You’d better take that desk there. It’s free now.’
    The girl looked across at Siss.
    Siss stood up. ‘It’s n-not free,’ she stuttered.
    The teacher met her eyes and said calmly, ‘The desk ought to be used, Siss. I think that would be the best way.’
    ‘No!’
    The teacher was in a quandary. He looked at the class and sensed from their expressions that they agreed with Siss.
    ‘There are desks out in the corridor that aren’t being used,’ said Siss, still on her feet.
    ‘Yes, I know there are.’
    He turned to the newcomer. ‘The desk belonged to a girl who disappeared last autumn. I expect you read about it in the papers.’
    ‘Lots of times.’
    ‘And if her place isn’t there, she’ll never come back!’ exclaimed Siss – and at that moment her wild assertion