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that their power over humans was threatened, there was a slim chance the ploy would work. Of course, once Astrid was returned and the Norns got their book back, they could easily do the scorpion-and-fish-guts trick anyway.
    â€œCan I finally take a look inside that thing?” Jarl said, entering. He came to the book and Dane put his hand on the cover so Jarl couldn’t open it.
    Dane turned to Lut. “I told the others we shouldn’t look inside without talking with you first.”
    â€œThat was wise,” Lut said. “No one should look.”
    â€œI just want to see my fate,” Jarl said. “What’s wrong with that ?”
    â€œYou may see that your story ends badly,” Lut said.
    â€œBadly?” Jarl said, bristling. “Like I don’t die bravely? Impossible.”
    â€œEven brave men die by accident,” Lut said. “Remember Erling the Lucky? No better warrior in the village. He choked to death on a pork rib.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Dane said. “And his son, Erling the Not-So-Lucky, was struck by one of Thor’s lightning bolts.”
    â€œIf those two knew how they were to die,” Lut said, “do you think they’d ever want to eat pork or go outside ever again?”
    â€œBut if the book says how you die, it must say when, too,” Jarl said. “If they knew the day—”
    â€œThat’s even worse,” interrupted Lut. “If you know it’s your fate to be crushed by a falling tree in five years—you won’t be crushed just once, but a thousand times in your dreams. You’ll become a sniveling, mad husk of a man, praying for the actual day to come so your misery will finally end.” Jarl looked askance at the book as if it were filled with poison. “But if you’re really that curious . . .” Lut made a move to open the book.
    â€œNo!” Jarl exclaimed. “I mean . . . why should I read of my death . . . when, in my heart I know it will come bravely?”
    Lut gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure it will, son, I’m sure it will. Now, leave me alone to think. I’ll hide the book where it is safe.”
    â€œWhy should you hide it?” Dane asked. “I’m the one who stole it.”
    â€œAnd when the Norns come,” Lut said, “it’s best you don’t know where it is.”
    â€œTheir threats won’t sway me,” Dane said.
    â€œBut perhaps their enticements will,” Lut said. “Remember, in the godly realm the Fates are the cleverest of all. Go and rest now.” Dane hesitated, eyeing the book uncertainly. “It is safe with me,” Lut assured him.
    As he, William, and Jarl moved to leave, Dane paused at the door. “If the Norns are so clever, why would they leave the book unguarded?”
    Lut ruminated. “I can think of only one reason. They thought it inconceivable that anyone would be so bravely audacious or spectacularly asinine as to steal it.”
    â€œGood of you to clear that up,” Dane said.
    After the young men had left, Lut sat before the book, staring at it a very long time. How was it possible that the book held the fate of every human being within it? he wondered. The longer he gazed at it, the more the temptation grew. He had always believed that a man could fool his fate, but now he wasn’t so sure. If he opened the book and read his fate, would he be able to alter it? Or would the words be as if they were set in stone and unchangeable? What if he read, “Lut the Bent sat in his hut pondering the mysteries of fate when he suddenly fell over dead”? He knew that those words would probably so terrify him that he would fall over dead. It would be a self-fulfilling prophecy, hatched by the clever Norns themselves.
    Why had the Norns left the book unguarded? Was it as Lut had said, that they never suspected it would be stolen? Or was there something more