She sat silent for a moment.
“Yeah,” she said finally, “I did.”
“Why?’
He sounded as if he was asking with sincerity. As if he was trying to understand. So she dignified him with a sincere response.
“Because people need solidarity. A unified front will make us stronger.”
“Why couldn’t you trust them to do that of their own accord?’ Katrín asked. “These people showed up because they cared. Because they wanted to make a change. Why wasn’t that enough?’
“You said you would cut back on the delýsíð tagging in the city,” said Hrólfur. “But now I’m hearing that you’ve been at it so much you had to go and get more. And that the police almost caught you. Do you think they’re stupid, Garún? Do you think they can’t put two and two together? You’re the reason they had that seiðskratti on standby. You’re the reason they brought in soldiers with skorrifles. They shot them because of you. Because of what you did.”
“I’ve seen what happens to people when they face the Crown,” Garún said, forcing herself to remain calm. “They get scared. They think they can’t win. They’ve got weapons. They’ve got numbers. Their officers and soldiers are fucked up with all kinds of seiður, heightening their senses. We have use everything at our disposal to create an advantage.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t the way. You might as well have been drugging them.”
“She was not!’ Styrhildur said. “It’s not a drug, not when it’s used like this. It made us stronger!’
Hraki nodded his agreement. “I felt it. It made us united.”
“They would have run away sooner,” said Diljá.
She had known and approved of Garún’s plan. Garún tried not to show how hurt she was at Diljá turning on her now. She wasn’t sure she was managing it.
“Delýsíð isn’t mind control,” Garún said. “All I did was give them an extra ounce of courage.”
“And that got them killed,” interjected Katrín. “That’s on you.”
Garún jumped to her feet, pushing Styrhildur as she moved to hold her back, so the girl fell on the floor. She rushed up to Katrín, smacked the cigarette holder out of her dainty hand, grabbed her collar and pushed her against the wall, pushing her face up to hers.
“Listen up, you privileged, condescending bitch, I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger! I wasn’t the one who shot them in the fucking head! They were my friends, too!’
She dropped her hold on Katrín, suddenly feeling the overwhelming tension and judgement in the room. Styrhildur and Hraki were on edge like wildcats about to kick into fight or flight.
“Don’t you ever put that on me,” Garún continued. “Do you hear me? They pulled the triggers. They killed them. The people you invite to your home with a smile, the people who put fucking bread in the mouths of your family. That fancy wine you drink at society events is watered down with their blood, do you hear me?’
It started to rain outside. For a while the only sound in the room was of raindrops spattering on windowpanes. Katrín took a seat and lit herself another cigarette.
It was Diljá who broke the silence.
“You told me you were leaving.”
Garún took a deep breath. “Yeah. Listen – what’s done is done. The seiðskratti noticed me. It was staring at me, intently. The officer who caught me the other day might have briefed them on the delýsíð. I don’t know. But I’m not going to wait around for them to break down my apartment door and claim me. They saw my face. They’ll find out who I am. So I’ll be staying in Rökkurvík for now.”
“Garún, no, please, the Forgotten Downtown is …’ Styrhildur bit her lip, thought better of finishing her thought. “People don’t move there. They disappear.”
“What portal will you be using?’ asked Diljá.
“The same as before. I just have to take the chance. It will only be temporary.”
“Yeah, right,” said Styrhildur. “How many people do you think have told themselves that before?’
Garún shook her head. “I know. But I still advise you to do the same. Things aren’t safe right now.”
“We can’t,” said Hrólfur. “At least not me. We’re about to go to print with news of the protest. I don’t think the newspapers will cover this in a beneficial light. We have to retain some control over the discussion. If we let them paint this as some unruly riot we might as well give up.”
“You could go to Huldufjörður,” said Hraki. “We know people who smuggle. It’s tough, but possible.”
“I’m not risking going through the city gates. Not after that. Besides, I want to stay in the city. I want to keep fighting.”
Katrín stared at her in disbelief. “You can’t be serious? You’re going to keep on using the delýsíð? After all that?’
Garún stared her down. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fight the Crown. For some of us the belief in the cause goes beyond writing articles.”
“It’s not only up to you, Garún!’ said Katrín. “We decided in unison not to take drastic action, but you – you chose to completely ignore it by painting delýsíð all around town! And then this, with the signs.” She shook her head, looking dismissively away as she took a drag of her cigarette. “You might not give a fuck about yourself, but you’re risking our lives by doing this.”
Garún was gathering her thoughts when Katrín visibly calmed herself and continued, her voice quiet and firm.
“But the harm is done. We’ve got no choice, I guess. Might as well go all in now.” She flashed Garún a meaningful look. “We’ll stay on high alert.”
Garún got up to leave. Styrhildur and Hraki got up with her, but she gestured for them to sit down. In a quick flurry they felt out for each other’s feelings. They quickly reached a conclusion of unity and resilience.
“We’ll visit you in a few days,” Styrhildur said, and Garún nodded.
Hrólfur walked Garún to the door and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re not the
