Raised by wolves in the frozen Ironwood, sixteen-year-old Ylva hunts with bone knives and thinks in scent. When she spots a red-hand banner she hasn't seen since the night raiders burned her family's longhouse, ten years of coiled rage unspools. She follows the men to the mead-halls of Hrafnheim, tracking them by sweat and fear, and carves a path uphill toward the Jarl who ordered her parents killed. What she finds in his rotting longhouse is not the monster she expected — but a frightened scholar, a stolen scroll, and the first thread of a web far larger than one man's crimes.
