CurseBreaker

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CurseBreaker Page 4

by Taylor Fenner


  “You live in a palace?” I ask awestruck.

  The polar bear laughs, “Not what you were expecting?”

  “No,” I manage as I swallow hard.

  “Will it do?” the polar bear asks nervously.

  I’m shocked by his question, “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same about you,” the polar bear replies so quietly I barely hear him. He coughs to cover up the words he didn’t mean to let slip and says, “We’ll be arriving shortly. I’m sure you’re hungry by now.

  My stomach growls in response, “I could eat.”

  The polar bear laughs again, but this time it sounds strained, “then let’s get you home.”

  Chapter Four

  We pass through a wooded barrier between the trail we’ve been traveling on and the palace.

  “There is magic protecting the palace and the grounds,” the polar bear explains while we cross a footbridge over a stream separating the woods from the foundation of the palace. “That’s why the trolls can’t get to us beyond this point. You’ll be safe here, I promise.”

  I nod wordlessly as the palace draws closer. The palace itself is carved out of the mountain base and the mountain curves around the palace as if the palace existed before the mountain and the mountain simply grew around it. Built out of a six foot tall foundation carved right out of the mountain, the glimmering gold palace rises high above and I have to tilt my head back to see to the top. The palace is easily the largest building I’ve ever seen. Hundreds of windows reflect the sunlight through golden panes and runes and other symbols are engraved into the golden walls for protection or some other unknown reason.

  As I admire the palace the polar bear knocks on a section of the stone and a secret door swings inward to let us in. I’m ushered into a grand entryway where guards stand watch. I wait for them to turn us away but their shields and weapons remain at their sides and they stand at attention nodding respectfully as the polar bear passes without a glance in their direction. Everything as far as the eye can see is gold or silver, even the tiles on the floor. A coat of arms with silver wolves protecting each side and a set of golden axes crossed in the middle are emblazoned on banners hanging from the ceiling lining the corridor. The letter “D” is set in the middle of the axes and I briefly wonder what it stands for. Elaborate chandeliers hang overhead lighting our way down the long corridor emptying out into a wide receiving room.

  All thoughts are forgotten as a strange smoky mist forms in front of us. I step closer to the polar bear as the smoke and mist spreads and forms four separate entities. Through swirls of mist, faces begin to appear followed by full-bodied apparitions. The women are outfitted in coarse brown wool dresses and thin gray gossamer aprons secured tightly around their waists and chests. Dusty brown shoes cover their feet. The men wear red woolen pants and long gray tunics with the same coats of arms that are stitched into the banners and engraved onto the hilts of the guard’s swords embroidered on their left sleeve. The spirits bow their heads under the polar bear’s scrutiny.

  “Hel, these are my attendants, they attend to the household, the grounds, and everything in between,” the polar bear tells me as he acknowledges the creatures bowed before us.

  “We are thankful for your safe return, sire,” a round woman with light brown hair, a few years older than me, says as she steps forward and curtsies for the polar bear.

  “Thank you, Gerda. I’d like you to meet Hel,” the polar bear gestures to me. “You will welcome her as an honored guest.”

  “Yes, sire,” Gerda glances in my direction but the warmth she shows for the polar bear is not transferred to me. Her light gray eyes are filled with ice.

  The polar bear takes my pack out of my hands and hands it off to Gerda. “Take this to Hel’s bedchamber and unpack her belongings.”

  “Right away, sire,” Gerda curtsies again and disappears into a plume of smoke.

  “Gustav,” the polar bear beckons forward a young man with a mop of red hair and an amused glimmer in his eyes.

  “At your service, sire,” the way he answers the polar bear seems like there is a private joke between the two of them about his title.

  “I assume that all the arrangements have been seen to,” the polar bear says in askance.

  “Everything is in place,” Gustav replies. “Dinner is waiting in the great hall.”

  “Very good,” the polar bear replies as he sidesteps Gustav. The other two servants, an older man with long wisps of white hair and a middle-aged woman with a heavily lined face and thick hair pulled tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck fade into smoke like Gerda after not receiving any orders from the polar bear. “Come along, Hel, there is food waiting for you.”

  I follow silently behind the polar bear as he leads the way down the corridor walking on two legs. Who is this creature that he has total command over palace servants and walks confidently between these walls as if he owns the place? Is there not an Earl or a King to preside over this castle and its’ servants?

  “My attendants are born of smoke and mist so they can appear and disappear whenever I need them,” the polar bear answers my unasked question. “They will do the same for you. All you have to do is say their name out loud and it will call them to your side. They will do whatever you ask of them so do not hesitate.”

  We step into a great hall off the main corridor and find a feast waiting. A table large enough to accommodate my entire family plus a quarter of our village runs from one end of the room to the other flanked on one side by thick marble columns that frame wide golden window panes. At the head of the room bronze statues of Odin and Frigg watch over us.

  “Who are you?” I ask as I look at him wide eyed.

  “Nobody of any importance,” the polar bear murmurs.

  “I doubt that,” I reply. “Did you grow up here?”

  “Yes,” the polar bear answers reluctantly.

  “Did your family live here too? What happened to them?” I ask, curious to learn more about my new companion.

  The polar bear is silent for a long few minutes before finally saying, “I have lived here alone, except for my attendants for quite some time.”

  “But what–” I start to ask another question but the stormy look in the polar bear’s eyes stops me.

  “Please, sit down Hel,” the polar bear urges as he grips the top of an ornately carved chair tightly and pulls it out from the table. Upon closer inspection, I realize ravens are carved into the back and legs of the chair. The legs of the table, visible under the lace tablecloth, are carved to match and the table is set beautifully with gold and silver serving trays and a shiny gold candelabrum sits in the center of the table. Clearly whoever decorated the palace loved decadency. Everything I’ve laid eyes on so far screams excess and riches. Careful not to scratch such beautiful carpentry I slide onto the cushioned seat.

  The feast is made up of strange meats I've never seen before and everything is drizzled in creamy sauces. I pause, but the inviting, mouthwatering aroma overrides my caution and I allow the bear to serve me a plate of food.

  “I wasn’t sure what you would like,” the polar bear pauses and gestures to the feast before me, “So I had a little bit of everything prepared for you.”

  “Thank you, it looks delicious,” I inhale the scent of the foods on my plate and my stomach growls loudly. I look up and see the polar bear still standing beside me. “Are you going to join me?”

  The polar bear looks surprised then masks his emotions, “I have things to attend to. I’ll leave you to your meal.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say quietly as I stroke the linen napkin on the side of my plate. Even Kiersten and Britta couldn’t have found fabric as fine as the cloth used for the elegant napkin. When I look up again the polar bear is gone.

  I place the napkin in my lap and pick up the fork set beside the plate. It is solid gold and heavy in my hand. I take a bite of a dark meat smothered in a thin dark sauce and moan at the
taste. Noodles lay beneath the meat soaking up the sauce and they melt on my tongue as I sample them. I take a sip of the fruity liquid filling an ornate goblet that seems too fancy for everyday use and feel as if I am dining with the gods in Valhalla. Another bite from my plate treats me to some kind of soft, sweetened vegetable that I know Espen and Leif would love. How can this entire feast that could feed so many be just for me? I help myself to some herb covered potatoes and another type of meat so not everything goes to waste. Everything melts in my mouth and tastes unlike anything I’ve ever had before, not even at wedding feasts in the village or nights of celebration.

  A bowl of fruit tossed with honey and topped with some type of sweet cream finishes my meal as I lean back, completely full for the first time since late summer.

  Wringing my hands together I glance about the room wondering what I’m supposed to do next. I don’t know where my bedchamber is, Gerda just disappeared as if she’d never been there to begin with but even if she reappears she didn’t seem too interested in my presence.

  Just as I’m about to get up and search the palace until I either find my room or the polar bear, whichever comes first, the polar bear strides into the room. He’s surprisingly graceful on his feet for an animal meant to walk on four feet instead of two.

  I quickly pretend to sip from the dregs of the fruity drink in my goblet.

  “Is everything to your liking?” the polar bear asks, once again sounding unsure of himself.

  “It’s perfect,” I push away my own nervousness and force a smile.

  “I don’t want to interrupt you, I just wanted to leave you with this,” the polar bear places a small silver bell on the table in front of me. “Whenever you want something, no matter what it is, all you have to do is ring this bell and you’ll get it immediately.”

  “I don’t need anything special,” I protest.

  “You’ll soon find that this palace runs on magic,” the polar bear ignores my words, “so all you have to do is ask and your wishes will be fulfilled.”

  “You’ve done enough for my family and me already,” I point out. “I don’t need anything else as long as my family is okay.”

  “Oh, Hel, this new life of yours is just beginning,” the polar bear grins. “Some things you just have reach out and grab. Take the bell, Hel. Whether you use it or not is up to you.”

  He leaves the room without another word. I don’t even have a chance to ask him where my bedchamber is. I realize belatedly that that was his plan all along. He may not be a man, but he’s as infuriating as any one of my brothers on a bad day. And he still hasn’t explained to me why I’m here or what he wants from me.

  “And you still haven’t told me your name,” I murmur to the empty room.

  Chapter Five

  A wave of exhaustion takes over me. Gathering my skirts in my fists and wrapping my pinky around the bell I glide into the main gallery and consider my options. Logic tells me that it’s unlikely there are any bedchambers on the main floor because the main floor is probably reserved for entertaining; not that I believe much entertaining goes on in this grand, gloomy palace.

  At the far end of the gallery, a massive staircase leads up to the second floor. I grip the banister as I marvel at the marble steps, gold railings, and sparkling silver candelabrums flanking each banister. It’s hard to believe someone lives like this when my family and I have lived in a small cottage of wood and cloth partitions between bedrooms.

  When I crest the top of the staircase the corridor I’m met with stretches off in both directions. Each way I turn rooms split off from the main corridor. Assuming that the floors above would have been reserved for whoever rules over this domain, my bedchamber must be somewhere on this floor, but where?

  “You’re not going to make this easy on me are you?” I mutter as I stifle another yawn. My limbs ache from my travels and all I want is to lie down. “Fine, you win.”

  I barely jingle the bell in my right hand when the hallway around me begins to swirl and a white mist envelops me. I cover my mouth as I inhale the mist. When my coughing fit ends and I open my eyes I find myself in my new bedchamber.

  “This is not real,” I murmur as I pinch my forearm. I blink rapidly but the room around me doesn’t disappear. The room is roughly the size of my family’s cottage with gold filigree wallpaper and gauzy silver curtains draped over twin doors leading out to a large balcony. A large gilt mirror hangs above a marble fireplace that spans half a wall. A small child could wander into the fireplace if someone weren’t watching them. Across from the fireplace, a plush canopy bed sits invitingly.

  I finger the delicate bed curtains and run my hand over the interlocked circles expertly carved into the wood while admiring the soft looking mattress and fancy linens. Surely this room couldn’t be for me, but it must be because my roughly sewn pack is tossed onto the seat of the golden vanity set situated next to the balcony doors.

  I feel so out of place among such grandeur and I look down at the rags I’m wearing in shame. Once again I wonder exactly what I’m doing here. This kind of splendor shouldn’t be being offered to me; clearly Britta or Kiersten would be much better suited in a place like this.

  I push that thought from my mind. I do deserve to be here. For whatever reason the polar bear chose me and for however long it lasts I’m going to enjoy it.

  I wander over to the vanity and pick through my belongings for my nightgown. I slip out of my day dress and gently lay it over the back of the vanity seat before slipping my nightgown over my head. I smooth the plain white fabric into place as I regard my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. The days of traveling have taken their toll on me and dirt smudges are visible on my cheek from my tussle with the troll in the forest. I dip a cloth into the silver basin on the vanity and wipe my face clean before releasing my long hair from the confines of the braid I’d woven it into. After shaking my hair out once I pull the bed curtain back and climb onto the bed. I sigh as I sink into the soft mattress as sleep beckons me forth. I hastily blow out the candles on the bedside table and lay my cheek upon the plump pillow.

  So this is what pure bliss feels like, I think sleepily.

  His name. That’s all she had asked for and he’d hesitated not once, but twice. Now he stood outside her bedchamber like the stalker he’d become. Always watching from afar since the day he’d spied her in the mind of the man who loved her as he lay dying on the footbridge of this palace where he’d sought refuge. He knew she’d hate him if she ever found out the truth.

  Outside in the corridor, he waits for the girl's breathing to slow and sleep to grab her. Once he hears her sleeping the fur from his polar bear form melts away leaving him in his true human form. Ivory skin snaps into place and shoulder length black hair caresses his cheek before he pushes it behind his ear. He's gone through this transformation so many times he doesn't even howl out in pain anymore. This is his curse, polar bear by day, man by night.

  Prince Dyre knows the girl cannot wake and see him or everything will be over before it has a chance to begin. Ever so slowly he edges the heavy door to her bedchamber open and slides inside.

  Dyre sighs in relief at the sight of the beautiful girl lying wrapped up in the sheets and blankets. Her deep red hair fans out on the white pillowcase like a pattern.

  Careful not to wake her, Dyre pulls the bedding back and climbs in beside her. When she doesn't stir he gently wraps his arm around her waist and holds his breath, but the girl keeps sleeping. Taking a huge risk he plants a gentle kiss on the place where her nightgown has slipped off her shoulder. The girl sighs in her sleep before her breathing evens out once again.

  Yes, Dyre smiles in the dark as he settles in beside her, yes this will be the girl who breaks his curse and frees them both.

  I wake up sometime the next morning with the sun streaming in through the gauzy curtains. I slept better than I can ever remember sleeping but I dreamed of someone I hadn’t encountered in my dreams for a long time. It’s funny; I cou
ld swear that I felt his lips upon my shoulder in my sleep, though I know that’s not possible.

  I shake off the remnants of sleep as Gerda bustles into my room. “I see you are finally awake,” Gerda remarks, making sure to emphasize the word finally.

  “Yes,” I reply ignoring her tone. “I was so comfortable I did not want to wake.”

  “Hmph,” Gerda grunts as she yanks the blankets off of me and says, “well go on, up with you, yeah?”

  Not sure what I’ve done to make Gerda dislike me so much in our brief meetings I clamor out of bed. She appraises me with a deep frown on her face before stepping into my personal space and begins pulling at my nightgown.

  “Um, what are you doing?” I ask as I wrap my arms around myself to stop her probing hands.

  “Getting you bathed and dressed,” Gerda replies impatiently, “what’s it look like I’m doing?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I murmur feeling like a scolded child.

  Without further comment, Gerda pulls my nightgown over my head and leaves me shivering and undressed as she pulls back a wooden partition in the wall concealing a large tub which she begins filling with steaming water.

  “Get in,” Gerda orders pointing to the tub.

  Eager to escape the cool air I quickly climb into the tub and sigh, thankful for the hot, soothing water. Before I can even sit back and relax Gerda pours a magic foaming bath tonic onto a scrubbing brush and begins scrubbing at my shoulders and back vigorously.

  “Ouch,” I protest. “I can wash myself.”

  Gerda grunts as if she doesn’t believe me as she scrubs harder. Little flakes of my skin fall into the tub leaving the new skin underneath an angry, raw red. Next Gerda pours a pitcher of water over my head and works a hair tonic straight into my scalp. I bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out at Gerda’s brusqueness.

  Once I am clean to Gerda’s satisfaction, she wanders over to my pack. After rummaging through my belongings and disapproving of everything she stalks over to a large white wardrobe with golden accents and yanks open the door. I didn’t even notice the wardrobe last night. She shifts a few things around within the wardrobe before returning to me with a slip and a cobalt blue dress with long bell sleeves that trail all the way to the floor. A blue and gold flower pattern trim the plunging neckline, sleeves, and hem.

 

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