Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

good sign. All she had to do was lie low for a couple more days.
    ‘So, what do we do now?’ Magnus said, staring up at Mount Hekla rising above them.
    ‘Climb it, of course.’
    ‘Dare I ask why?’
    ‘What kind of Icelander are you?’ Ingileif said. ‘It’s a lovely day, so we’re going up a mountain. Don’t you want to?’
    ‘Oh, I’d like to,’ said Magnus. ‘Is it difficult?’ He had borrowed boots from the farmer, and he was more or less properly dressed for the occasion.
    ‘It’s easy in summer. It will be more difficult now. This early in May there’s still a lot of snow about, but we’ll manage. Let’s go.’
    So they set off up the side of the volcano. It was a glorious day, the sky was clear and cold and there was already a magnificent view stretching out behind them. The snow lay on lava and pumice, and was actually easier underfoot than the black rock and stone. Magnus felt good. The air was crisp, the exercise was invigorating, and it was nice to have Ingileif beside him. Or ahead of him. She set a rapid pace, which Magnus was happy to follow.
    ‘How’s your friend?’ she asked as they paused to catch their breath and admire the view. ‘The one who was shot?’
    ‘Árni is doing well, thank God. They say he’s going to make a full recovery.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Ingileif said. Ahead of them was the blackened valley of the River Thjórsá, and beyond that the broad plain through which the Hvítá ran. And beyond that more mountains.
    ‘So you’re going tomorrow?’ Ingileif said.
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Are you coming back?’ There was something a little hesitant in the way she asked the question.
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Magnus. ‘At first I was dead set against it. But the Commissioner has asked me to stay. I’m thinking about it.’
    And he was thinking about it, seriously. Partly he felt a sense of obligation – gratitude for what the Commissioner and Árni had done for him. But also the seed of suspicion that had planted itself in his mind on the road up the Thjórsárdalur three days before was nagging at him. The suspicion that the answers to his father’s murder might lie in Iceland rather than the streets of Boston.
    As he had anticipated, the seed had taken root. It was growing. It wasn’t going to die away now.
    ‘If it makes any difference,’ Ingileif said. ‘I’d like you to.’
    She looked at him, smiling shyly. Magnus felt himself grinning back. He noticed the nick on her eyebrow, already so familiar. It was strange how he felt that he knew her so well, as though it was much longer than ten days since he had first interviewed her in her gallery.
    ‘Yes. That makes a difference.’
    She moved closer to him, reached up and kissed him, long and deep.
    Then she broke away. ‘Come on, we’ve still got a long way to go.’
    As they ascended, the mountain became stranger. There was no single neat round cone at the top of Mount Hekla. Rather, a series of old craters from previous eruptions dotted the ridge. Sulphurous steam rose out of fissures, narrow cracks in the mountain. The snow became thinner, the bare patches more common. As Magnus put his hand on the bare black lava, he realized why. It was warm. Underneath, and not very far underneath, the volcano was bubbling away.
    When they reached the top, the view was extraordinary, as Iceland stretched all around them: broad rivers, craggy mountains, slow, powerful glaciers.
    ‘It’s amazing to think of the three brothers climbing this a thousand years ago,’ Magnus said. ‘You know, Ísildur, Gaukur and Ásgrímur.’
    ‘Yes.’
    Magnus looked around. ‘I wonder where the crater they were trying to throw the ring into was then?’
    ‘Who knows?’ Ingileif replied. ‘My father used to fret about that. Needless to say, I first came up here with him. The mountain has rearranged itself many times since their day.’
    ‘What are you going to do with the saga now? Are you going to sell it?’
    Ingileif shook her head. ‘We’re going to give it to the Árni Magnússon Institute. But before then, I’m going to let Lawrence Feldman have it for a year in return for enough money to bail out the gallery. Birna will get her share, of course.’
    ‘That’s a neat idea.’
    ‘Yes. It was Lawrence’s, but it looks like everyone can live with that. I think he feels guilty.’
    ‘As he should.’ Magnus thought about all that had happened over the previous two weeks. He wondered whether