‘No, it isn’t,’ Ana said. ‘In all our houses the door faces north.’
The younger boy, Shade, asked, ‘Why? What’s so special about north? There’s nothing north of here but ocean.’
‘That’s where the Door to the Mothers’ House lies. Where our ancestors once lived, now lost under the sea—’
Gall snorted. ‘We have doors facing south-east.’
‘Why?’ Sunta snapped at him.
‘Because of the light - it goes around - something to do with the sun. That’s the priest’s business. All I know is I’m not going to stay in a house with a door in the wrong place.’
Sunta smiled. ‘But this is the Giver’s house. It is the largest in Etxelur. If you don’t stay here you’ll have to stay in a smaller house, and it would not be the Giver’s house. What would your father think of that?’
Gall scowled. ‘I ask you again - if this is the Giver’s house, where is the Giver?’
Ana said, ‘In the autumn my father went to sea to hunt whale.’
Shade looked at her. ‘He has not come back?’
‘No.’
Gall sneered. ‘Then he’s dead.’
‘No!’
‘He’s dead and you have no Giver.’
‘Kirike is not dead,’ Sunta said quietly. ‘Not until the priest says so, or his body washes up on the beach, or his Other, the pine marten, says so in a human tongue. Anyhow we don’t need a Giver until the summer. And even if he returns, even if he were standing here now—’
‘What?’
‘Even then, Pretani arse, you would do as I say, here in my house.’
Enraged, he ran a dirty thumbnail along the line on his forehead. ‘See this? I got this scar when I first took a man’s life. I was fourteen years old.’
Sunta smiled. ‘If you like I’ll show you the scars I got when I first gave a woman her life. I was thirteen years old.’
Complicated, baffled expressions chased across Gall’s face. He was evidently grasping for a way out of this while saving his pride. ‘This house is evidently the least unsuitable in this squalid huddle for sons of Albia. We will stay here. We will discuss the issue of the door later.’
‘As you wish,’ Sunta said, mocking. ‘And we will also discuss how you are going to fix my wall.’
He was about to argue with that when Lightning burst in. The dog’s tail was up, his eyes bright, tongue lolling, his fur covered in snow. Excited by the presence of the strangers, the dog jumped up at them, barking.
Gall cringed back. ‘Wolf! Wolf!’ He drew a flint-blade knife from his belt.
Ana stood between Gall and the dog. ‘You harm him and I’ll harm you back, Pretani.’
Sunta laughed, rocking. ‘Lightning is Kirike’s dog - oh, come here, Lightning! He chose him because he was the runt of the litter, and gave him his name as a joke, because as a puppy he was the slowest dog anybody had ever seen. And you big men cower before him!’
Shade looked nervous, but he was smiling. ‘Pretani don’t keep dogs.’
‘Maybe you should,’ Ana said, petting Lightning.
Gall, trying to regain his pride, put away his knife and strutted around the house. ‘I am hungry from the journey.’
‘Are you indeed?’ Sunta asked. She gave no sign she was going to offer him food.
He paused by the hearth. ‘What kind of fire is this? Where is the wood?’
‘This is not your forest-world. Wood is precious here. We burn peat.’
‘It is a stupid fire. It gives off smoke but no heat.’ He hawked and spat on the inadequate fire. ‘Come, Shade. Let’s find a less ugly old woman who might feed us.’ And with that he walked out of the north-facing door. His brother hurried after him, with a backwards glance at Ana.
When they were gone the space suddenly seemed huge and empty.
Sunta seemed to collapse, as if her bones had turned to water. ‘Oh, what a fuss. Give me your hand, dear.’ Ana helped her back to where she had been sitting. Sunta’s seal-fur cloak fell open, scattering feathers and exposing her body; the only flesh on her was the mass that protruded from her belly, the growth that so horribly mimicked a pregnancy. ‘All men are arses. Do something about that hole in the wall, would you? The wind pierces me.’
Ana took handfuls of dry bracken from a pallet and shoved them into the broken place. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘About what?’
‘About letting them stay here!’
‘Every seven years the Pretani hunters come to the winter gathering. And they always stay in the Giver’s house.