Giants of the Frost Read Online Free PDF Page A

flashed my emotional underwear. But if I'd kept talking, I would have said something like, "There is something missing from love. There is something empty about love. Love should be stellar and lunar and pull your breath from your body and make your teeth ache and your nerves sing, but I have not felt that. I have only felt disappointment. And I am absolutely certain there should be more." I was off duty the next afternoon, and remained in the rec hall after lunch. I had a sheaf of papers, which represented what I had written so far of my thesis, and I spread them out on one of the big wooden tables, preparing to organize them into chapters. I was deeply involved in this task when I heard pots and pans banging in the adjoining galley. I ignored the noise for a few minutes, but it grew louder and more violent.
    I left my papers and peered around the doorway.
    "Maryanne?"
    She was crouching at a cupboard, pulling out pots and throwing them toward the sink with a crash. She looked up with an irritated expression, but when she saw me her eyebrows shot up, and she said, "Oh, Vicky. You're not going to let him do it, are you?"
    "What are you doing? What are you talking about?"
    She stood up. Her frizzy blond hair was yanked high into a ponytail tied with a pale pink ribbon. "I'm cleaning out the cupboards. I always do in the first week of the month." She looked at the frying pan in her hand, then flung it into the sink.
    "Why are you doing it so… vigorously?"
    "I've just had an argument with Magnus. He wants to leave us alone here for a week! Just two defenseless women!"
    "Defenseless against what?"
    "There are dangers, Vicky. I suppose he didn't tell you that."
    "What dangers?" Gunnar had spoken about thieves coming onto the island. I hadn't believed it, but Maryanne was round-eyed and trembling at the idea of being left alone.
    Maryanne's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Haven't you heard the noises?"
    "No."
    "You must have. In the night. When you can't sleep."
    "No."
    "From the forest." She turned her eyes meaningfully in that direction, then met my gaze again. "There are noises in the forest."
    "Sure. Birds, animals—"
    "No, no. Vicky, this island is haunted."
    I was so relieved I almost laughed. She hadn't been imagining hooded intruders with glinting knives; she had been imagining spectres with rattling chains.
    "Oh. I see," I said.
    "You have to tell Magnus you won't do it. He doesn't have to go to the conference. He's duty bound to stay here. It's the award—he wants to get up there on the podium and accept it." I guessed how fervently Magnus was playing that fantasy out in his head, and I smiled. Perhaps I could get this entire island to myself after all. "Maryanne, I'm sure if there's only a skeleton staff we don't need a cook."
    "Pardon?"
    "Instead of making Magnus stay, why don't you go? I'll be fine by myself."
    "But Vicky, this island is not safe for—"
    "I'm not afraid of ghosts," I said. "Look, I'll talk to Magnus. I'll get you the week off. You can go home to Manchester, or you can go shopping in Oslo. I'll offer to stay here alone." Maryanne shook her head sadly. "You think I'm mad, don't you? You think you know for certain that there are no ghosts on this island."
    "I don't think you're mad. But I do know for certain that there are no ghosts on this island."
    "For certain? Some people are so bloody arrogant." She turned abruptly and went back to clearing out the cupboards. Crash, bang .
    By dusk, I had convinced Magnus to let Maryanne have the week off. It was almost too easy. He had grown blustery and said that, no, he would stay, it was his duty as station commander and he couldn't leave a trainee to run the station. I reminded him that I wasn't just a trainee, I was highly qualified, levelheaded, nearly thirty years old. I reassured him that I had memorized the lockdown procedure, our last line of defense on an island hours from police assistance. "And Magnus," I said, "who will accept your