"It's some sort of protected forest with a ruin contained within. I'm afraid I don't remember the name, but evidently it has some tie-in to a cult that was supposed to be very prominent around midsummer, and since that's just a couple of days away—"

"Ilargi!" Jens gasped, his expression suddenly horror filled as he snatched his son from where he was bouncing up and down on my feet. "You are Ilargi?"

"Me? No, I'm Irish. Mostly. There's some German on my mom's side."

Jens eyed me warily. "If you are not Ilargi, are you from the Brotherhood?"

"I'm not overly religious," I said slowly, confused by his reaction. "I'm sorry, maybe we're having a communication issue, despite the fact that your English is exceptional. This Ilargi place that we're going to visit tonight isn't an abbey or a religious house, it's a stretch of untouched forest, which I gather is rare. It's supposed to have some sort of pagan meaning, but I'm afraid I kind of skimmed that section of the itinerary."

"Not pagan," Jens said, picking up his squirming son and backing away. "Not good. Stay away from Geirfinnur. Stay away from Ilargi."

Before I could ask him just what the dickens that meant, he turned and bolted, Geirfinnur's waving hand the last thing I saw before they were swallowed up by the dancing crowd.

"Well, how do you like that?" I asked no one in particular. I was answered by a brutal jab to the back, reminding me that there were better places for contemplation of confusing Icelanders than the middle of a dance floor.

I made my way back to my table and ordered another lemonade, nursing it as I watched the people swarm around me. What on earth was so wrong with the Ilargi forest that it triggered such a strong reaction in Jens? Did Audrey know about it? I wondered.

Before I could mull over what I wanted to do next, a dark-haired woman plopped down in the chair that had previously been occupied by Geirfinnur.