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are believers. They’re Asatro.”
    “Actually I think I saw one of them.”
    She tossed her blouse on top of the wet pile of clothes and grabbed a blanket off the Chesterfield sofa. The office looked exactly the same as it did when Frederik’s father moved out and left the house to them. Immediately they’d changed the property’s name to Ingersminde, in honor of Walther’s deceased wife.
    “This old lady appeared out of nowhere and looked me straight in the eye. I almost had a heart attack—I hadn’t at all heard her walk up behind me. It seems to me she could be one of those people. She had this long braid hanging down over her shoulder.”
    Frederik laughed harder this time. “That’s Elinor. She lives in the gatekeeper’s house; she has most of her life. She’s completely harmless, and definitely not one of the Asatro or wights.”
    “Why do you let them run around and pour blood all over our forest?” Camilla asked. She nestled into the couch to get warm.
    “The old Asatro has deep roots in this region, though no one in our family ever believed in it,” Frederik said. “It attracts people interested in the Nordic gods and sagas. A lot of our country’s history comes from this area.”
    Camilla struggled to remember some of what she had learned in history class.
    “This is where Skjold drifted to shore in an unmanned ship the gods sent,” Frederik continued. “He grew up and became king in Lejre. His was the strongest and bravest army. Did you know that?”
    She nodded. Everyone who had gone to high school in Roskilde knew that story. They had heard a lot about King Skjold and his descendants, including the tale of his departure. When he died at a very old age, his body was carried aboard the ship he had arrived on as a baby and laid on his shield, together with piles of gold, jewelry, and valuable weapons. The ship was launched from shore; only the gods know where it ended up.
    “I met a boy out there, too,” she said. “I think he’s about Markus’s age. He was eating some food on the ground by the tree. But he could have been one of them, of course.”
    Frederik frowned. “I don’t think the kids come by themselves. Usually they all meet down by the gate where they park their cars, and then they all walk in together. But I’ve seen their food lying around on the ground, several times. They share it with the gods or something, and that’s fine. The animals out there can have at it, as long as there’s no plastic or other garbage.”
    Camilla smiled at him and gathered up her clothes. “We certainly didn’t have heathen worshipers like that when I was a little girl in Frederiksberg.”
    She kissed him. “At least not in my part of Frederiksberg.”

7
    S omeone knocked on the office door and immediately Charlie was on his feet, growling. Louise jumped; she’d forgotten about the big German shepherd on the folded-up gray dog blanket beside Eik’s chair. She waved and shook her head, warning Rønholt not to come in.
    “Can I have a few minutes?” he asked, stepping behind the door.
    The dog was still growling, even though Eik grabbed his collar and tried to force him back on his blanket. “Settle down. Down now; it’s okay for them to be here, too,” he said. Louise rolled her eyes and walked out into the hall.
    Rønholt put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s nice having you back,” he said. “We’ve missed you. So how are you doing?”
    “You’re going to have to explain to him that he can’t bring that dog in here. It’s totally crazy,” she said, niftily avoiding the question, as they walked down to Rønholt’s office. “I’ve tried to tell him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.”
    “That’s not going to be so easy,” Rønholt mumbled, staring down at the gray linoleum.
    “What do you mean? You’re not going to allow this!”
    Rønholt still didn’t look at her. “You have to admit he’s being very decent.”
    “The dog?” Louise was