The Hidden People
by Resa Nelson
As the Dark Citadels loomed ahead, Sigurthor whispered, “Remember what I told you about the Hidden People.”
Lydia remembered. Sigurthor had warned her about them the first week she’d come to Iceland. At first she thought he must be joking. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She shuddered, despite the cozy warmth of the navy cardigan she’d bought in Reykjavik. Why had she left the comfort of home in Maine? Why had she been so stupid to feel like a loser? Maybe at the age of 36 she was a bit old to live with her parents, but times were tough, right? Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t earn her keep. All her life Lydia had worked at her family’s salmon farm. How could she have let her folks talk her into accepting an invitation to study all summer at an Icelandic fish farm? Lydia wished she could be home right now, surrounded by the gamey stench of salmon tanks all day and watching reruns of Law & Order at night.
But she forced herself to be polite and let her host play travel guide whenever the mood struck him.
