She pushed his head aside and buttoned up her blouse, though he whimpered. Then she looked up at Eidi.
“Well, is it nice to be home again?”
Eidi smiled and nodded. “It surely is.”
“And what about you, Tink? Do you like it here?”
He took hold of Eidi’s hand before he nodded, too.
“Why can’t they use our mare?” asked Eidi.
“Well, Lesna and Kotka made a really good bargain there. She’s in foal, so I don’t think we should work her too hard.”
“Then we’ll have two horses,” exclaimed Tink happily, looking up at Eidi. “One each. I’d like to have the little one.”
“That you shall,” she said, smiling at him. She gave his hand a squeeze before letting it go.
Then she reached out and took Cam up in her arms.
“Yes, you take him awhile, will you?” said Foula, rising and returning to her work in the garden.
“Hello there, you little rascal,” said Eidi, rubbing her nose against Cam’s round cheek with a soft growl.
He looked startled at first, but when she had done it once or twice more, he squealed with delight and didn’t want her to stop.
But she did stop when she noticed that Tink was standing there pulling at her skirts, not wanting to be left out. She sat down on the bench and patted the place beside her.
“Come and sit down, Tinkerlink.”
Then she took Cam on one knee and Tink on the other and sang the song for them about the rag rug of life, with the gray warp and the gay weft of colored tatters.
Ravnar came by just as the song ended. He grinned at her.
“You’re a queer one,” he said. “You leave home because you get one little brother, and then you bring another one back with you.”
She laughed, throwing an arm around Tink, and sang so loud that it could be heard all over the cove.
Eidi was alone in the living room. She was darning the holes in the sleeve of Kotka’s old, worn sweater. When she had finished, she spread the sweater out on the table before folding it up. As she smoothed out the front, she felt the golden brooch still pinned on the inside. She undid it, took it in her hand, and looked at it.
The arrow was the length of her little finger, pointed at one end and with two small, ridged fans at the other, to represent the feathers. It was bent a little out of shape, but not enough to prevent it from concealing the pin on the back.
She closed her hand on the brooch and went over to the fireplace. The fire had burned down to embers, a glowing red heap against the blackened stones. She sat on her heels and felt the heat on her face. The light from the embers came and went. It was as if the fire was breathing soundlessly.
One single move of her hand, and she would see the arrow melt to golden drops and disappear in gray-white ashes.
She listened for the tone in her ear. But all was still, and she knew that the howling noise had gone forever.
Then she saw that at this moment it was entirely up to her whether to keep the gold pin or not. And no matter what she did, Bandon would always be her father. And no matter who her father was, she would always be Eidi.
She brought her hand up to her breast and fastened the golden arrow on the front of her dress. Then she put more wood on the fire and sat looking into the flames.
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