Tallev’s little band pushed through the woods beyond the settlement. After walking for some time, they reached a towering cliff of jagged rock. Ga stared at them, stunned—these kids were carrying baskets and tools and weapons, weighed down with gear… and they were still planning to climb straight up.

  What unsettled her more were the scattered bones on the ground—bones she couldn’t identify.

  “There’s no other way?” Ga shouted.

  Badji, already starting to climb, looked back. “No detours. You have to climb. If you go around, the dwarves will think you’re disrespecting them, and they’ll curse you!”

  “Yeah!” Tallev added, his grin impossible to read. “A curse that makes you poop forever!”

  Ga was about to complain again when she caught a glimpse of a figure at the top of the cliff.

  An old man, pale and withered, stood near the edge. His body trembled faintly in the wind. He didn’t move—he only seemed to be watching them.

  Ga stopped without thinking. She blinked, trying to look again—

  Lagertha tugged her hand and smiled. “Come on, Ga-Ga. This way. It’s easier to climb here. Remember—move only one hand or one foot at a time. Everything else stays gripping tight. That’s how the older kids taught us.”

  “Ha! Only sissies climb the girls’...” Tallev started to mock. “...Ah! shit!”

  The rock beneath his foot suddenly crumbled. He slid down a short distance.

  Everyone burst out laughing. Ga swallowed hard, her palms already slick with sweat.

  Thankfully, Lagertha’s route had roots and grass to grab and step on—far safer than the sheer face the others were taking. Ga followed carefully, each step feeling like she was placing her heartbeat on open air.

  “Yeah… slow… breathe… steady…” Lagertha encouraged softly.

  Ga had barely made it halfway when a sharp tap-tap skittered past her ear—

  A few mountain goats sprinted along the cliffside with absurd ease. Loose stones sprayed as they brushed by, and Ga locked up in place.

  “Look, Ga-Ga! They’re so nimble!” Lagertha laughed, genuinely delighted.

  Up above, the boys had already reached the top. Tallev yelled down, “Hurry up! Be like goats!”

  “Fuck your goats…” Ga muttered, so tense she was swearing just to stay upright.

  She hadn’t even recovered when a low howl rolled out from the trees.

  Below the cliff, wolf-shapes prowled and shifted. Their eyes glinted with hungry, icy light.

  Lagertha kept smiling as she soothed Ga. “Don’t be scared. We’re high enough. They can’t get up here.”

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  Ga exhaled, trying to loosen her shoulders—

  Then she saw it.

  Two particularly greedy wolves were testing their route—actually trying to climb up.

  Cold sweat ran down Ga’s spine. Survival instinct detonated in her chest. She stopped caring whether the rock under her hands was loose. She climbed like a thing possessed—knuckles whitening, fingertips tearing, pain erased by a single thought:

  Up. Up. Up.

  In moments, she hauled herself over the edge, gasping, collapsing beside the boys.

  “Wow,” Tallev nodded with satisfaction. “You really looked like a goat just now.”

  Ga steadied her breath, then looked around.

  Lagertha wasn’t there.

  “Uh…” Badji pointed down. “The rocks you kicked loose hit Lagertha. She slipped.”

  “What?”

  Ga threw herself to the edge and looked down—

  Lagertha lay in the dirt below, coated in dust, wincing as she forced herself upright.

  The wolves were already closing in.

  “No—Lagertha…!”

  A wolf lunged, jaws opening—

  Lagertha snapped her hand up like a trap.

  She clamped the wolf’s mouth shut with a grip like iron.

  She lifted her head.

  Her eyes looked like a beast’s.

  The whole pack whimpered at once.

  Then, with a roar, she hoisted the wolf and smashed it straight into the others.

  The wolves scattered in chaos. Lagertha stepped forward.

  One step—wolves backed away.

  Another step—wolves backed away again.

  Ga stared, completely frozen.

  “Ha. She’s berserking again,” Tallev said like it was nothing. “Let’s go. Once she’s done throwing a fit, she’ll follow.”

  The boys turned and left, chatting as they walked, as if what they’d just seen was ordinary.

  Ga glanced back one more time. The girl who should’ve been dead—or torn apart—now looked like a monster that even monsters wouldn’t dare meet in the eyes.

  The shock made Ga tremble.

  “Ga-Ga, move it!” Tallev called. “Oslo girls are all shieldmaidens. We don’t break.”

  Ga hesitated, then hurried after them.

  But after walking a while, Ga couldn’t hold it in anymore and asked in a small voice, “What… what was that? Was it my fault?”

  “What fault?” Sten turned, frowning at Ga’s anxious face. “You’ve never seen it? A Viking berserker.”

  Ga shook her head timidly. “No.”

  Badji cut in, excited. “Berserkers are really strong! Blades and spears barely work. Their strength is crazy, and even if they get hurt, they can get back up fast. But their temper’s awful. They’ll hit anything they see—so you’d better stay away.”

  “When they turn back into a person, they get really tired…”

  “Yeah.” Badji nodded. “And other tribes have to drink war-spirits to become berserkers, but us Oslo Vikings don’t. But if we drink war-spirits, we become… uh… how do you say it?”

  “Super berserkers.” Sten declared with a little chuckle.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Ha! That’s just Tallev talking,” Sten said flatly. “Anyway, the Jarl says we’re too young to drink war-spirits. Not healthy.”

  “Mhm,” Badji added. “There’s a poison in it—henbane. If kids drink it, they turn into idiots.”

  Badji and Sten both looked at Tallev at the same time.

  Tallev felt the sudden, peaceful silence behind him and turned. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I’m close. I can feel it. It’s nearby.”

  “Yeah. Sure, idiot.”

  Ga listened with her mouth slightly open, her heart still beating fast. The children were sharing this with her—like it was normal, like she belonged close enough to hear it. The shaking in her chest slowly warmed into something else. Her lips twitched upward before she could stop them.

  She understood it then:

  She was starting to bond with a group of impossible children.

  After a while, Tallev actually led them to a place overflowing with plenty—fat mushrooms, wild greens, and fruit trees heavy with color above.

  “See?” Tallev said, already scrambling up a tree to pick fruit. “Told you this place was great!”

  “It is great…” Badji crouched, hesitating over the beautiful plants. “But isn’t this the dwarves’ garden? Can we really take this? Won’t we get cursed?”

  “Stop thinking so much,” Sten said, already harvesting fast. “We can’t possibly take it all. Consider it helping the dwarves tidy their garden. Hurry up—whoever fills their basket last does all the chores.”

  Ga wasn’t good at climbing trees, and she couldn’t tell the greens from the mushrooms. So she wandered nearby on her own.

  Then she heard it—

  A strange knocking sound, faint but rhythmic.

  Curious, she followed it.