My Soul to Take: A Novel of Iceland Read Online Free PDF

up inside her since she got there. About fucking time.
    Birna did not manage to turn around completely. Even over the noise of the birds on the cliff she clearly heard the rock swishing through the still sea air toward her head, and caught a glimpse of it as it struck her forehead with terrible force. She did not see anything more in this life, but she felt many things. In a vague and dreamlike state, she felt herself being dragged along the rough terrain. She felt the goose bumps that the cold fog brought out on her bare flesh as her clothes were removed, and she felt nauseous as she tasted the ferrous tang of blood in her mouth. Her socks were pulled off and she felt a terrible pain on the soles of her feet. What was happening? It was all like a dream. A voice she knew well was ringing in her ears, but given what was happening, that couldn't be right. Birna tried to speak, but couldn't produce the words. A strange groan came out of her throat, but she had not groaned. How very strange all this was.
    Before everything turned black, it occurred to her that she would never read about the origin of Mount Kirkjufell. Oddly enough, this hurt the worst of all.
    The same pair of gulls that Birna had watched plunging into the sea for food were waiting farther along the beach, watching what was done to her through the mist. Patiently they waited for calm to return. The beach and the sea look after their own. No one here has to starve.
    Chapter 3
    Friday , 9 June 2006
    I Can’t understand what's become of Birna," muttered Jonas, reaching for a floral-patterned cup containing the elixir whose praises he had just been singing to Thora. This was a special brew of tea from local herbs that, according to Jonas, cured all manner of ailments and ills. Thora had accepted a cup and taken a sip, and judging from the taste, the tea must have been exceptionally wholesome.
    "I would have liked the two of you to meet," he added, after taking a mouthful and placing the cup down carefully on the saucer. There was something quite ridiculous about this, for the cup and saucer were so oddly delicate, bone china with a slender handle that looked even smaller in Jonas's big hands. He was far from delicately built—big-boned without being fat, weather-beaten and with an air of one who would rather swig strong coffee from a mug onboard a trawler than sip undrinkable herbal tea from a ladylike cup following a yoga class.
    Thora smiled and made herself comfortable in her chair. They were in Jonas's office at the hotel, and her back ached after driving up west. The Friday traffic had been heavy, and it didn't help that she had had to drive her children to their father's house in Gardabaer on her way out of town. The traffic had crawled along as if every single resident of the capital were on exactly the same route. Although this was not officially his weekend to have the children, Hannes had offered to swap because he would be abroad at a medical conference the following weekend. Consequently Thora had decided to take Jonas up on his offer and spend the weekend at the New Age spa hotel on Snaefellsnes. She was going to use the opportunity to relax, have a massage and unwind, as Jonas had suggested, but the main purpose of her trip was of course to dissuade him from claiming compensation for the supposed haunting. Thora wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible and go to her room for a nap.
    "She'll turn up," Thora said, just for the sake of saying something. She knew nothing about the architect; the woman could easily be a raving alcoholic who had fallen off the wagon and would not be seen for weeks.
    Jonas huffed. "It's not like her. We were meant to go over the draft plans for the new building this morning." He flicked through some papers on his desk, clearly annoyed with the architect.
    "Couldn't she just have popped back to Reykjavik to fetch something?" Thora asked, hoping he would stop talking about this woman. The ache in her back was