“I saw what I saw. And even you say the weather has been colder since that day,” Mother said defensively.
“Gerda.” Father’s voice was heavy with warning, his eyes narrow, and her mother closed her mouth in a thin line.
For an uncomfortable beat no one spoke and the only sound was the rain, smacking against the wooden shutters, and the wind rattling them, trying to get in. It kept Astrid constantly on edge.
“I believe Astrid saw bear tracks. Bears are everywhere now, getting in their last feed before winter sets in.” Tomas spoke mildly, as always coming to her defense. “Some of them can be huge.”
There was a moment of silence, and Astrid did not dare look at Tomas. Sometimes just the exchange of a look between them could set Father off.
“Bah.” Father shifted in his pride of place, right in front of the fire, his mood darkened by her mother’s disobedience, but not too much. Astrid relaxed muscles she hadn’t realized she’d tensed.
“Fine, a bear, but do you have to always exaggerate, Astrid? Does it have to be a giant bear? A talking bear who casts spells?” Father’s tone dared Mother to contradict him. Dared her to remind them again there were such things as giant bears, and trolls, and strange magical creatures in the world.
He knew they were just a turn in the path away—hadn’t Astrid seen him paint Thor’s hammer over the barn door himself, to shield their home from such things?
“It’s just like when you were younger, those stories you used to tell us about the wind talking to you.”
“It’s what I saw and heard.” She didn’t push it any further. What did it matter anyway? The tracks would be gone by morning in this weather, and it was only her word that the conversation she’d had in the woods took place.
“The mushrooms were good.” Mother tried to smile.
Astrid could see the fatigue on her face, the way she let her head rest on the high chair back, closing her eyes for a moment. Her pale beauty was scrubbed away, almost to nothing. Her hair was once golden as Astrid’s, but now, it was a dull mix of grey and yellow. Her eyes were a shade lighter than they had been, as if faded by too many tears. Too many years of living too close to the edge of survival.
A terrible pit gaped open inside Astrid, and she fought the helplessness that rose up every time she saw her mother this close to despair.
Fought the logic that said this would always be her life. That one day she would be the mother in the chair, sick with worry over how they would get through the winter.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Took her long enough to get them,” her father muttered, unable to let go of his anger at her.
She bent to her needlework and kept her mouth closed. Fighting with her father again would not make her mother’s life any easier.
Instead, she turned to Bets and Freja, sitting beside her on the mat near Mother’s chair, darning. “How was market—”
The blow against the shutters silenced her. Silenced all of them.
Eric stood, his eyes never leaving the window.
The bang came again, making the shutter hinges screech in protest, making Astrid jump and Bets scream.
“Who is there?” Father’s voice sounded too loud. Afraid.
Bang. The knock sounded again.
“Three times,” her mother murmured, and Astrid felt a chill in her heart.
Her father went to the door, hesitated a moment, and lifted his hand to the lock. Eric joined him, exchanging a look with Tomas as he crossed the room.
Tomas reached for the ax leaning against the fireplace, hefted it in his hand. Then he went to stand between Astrid, and her sisters and mother, and the door.
Her father wrenched the door open, and he and Eric stepped into the driving rain. As they were swallowed by the darkness, the wind took the door and slammed it shut behind them, as if protecting Astrid from whatever stood outside.
She could feel the eyes again.
She should have known running from him wouldn’t make him go away. Whoever the mysterious watcher was, he wasn’t skulking in the woods anymore.
* * *
There was no way to make himself smaller, so Bjorn bowed as well and as low as his inconvenient shape allowed.
“Good evening to you, sirs.” The wind shrieked louder, ruffling his white fur and trying to unbalance him, taunting him with his words. It was not a good evening.
Her father stared at him, mouth open, eyes so filled with terror he looked ready to faint. The brother was calmer, braver, but his face was white, all the same.
“I apologize for my poor timing, and for disturbing you, sir, but I come to ask for your daughter.” He kept his eyes on the father. The decision-maker.
The man seemed incapable of speech.
“Your daughter. I wish to take her with me, to my home. I promise to take care of her, and that she will want for nothing.”
“Which daughter?” The son’s voice quavered, but his eyes held Bjorn’s steadily.
“The one I spied today, working the fields. The one I spoke to in the wood earlier.”
“My youngest. Astrid.” The father found his voice at last.
Ah. Of course that was her name. The fair and beautiful one. “Yes. Astrid.” He savored saying it.
“Why do you want her?” The brother’s suspicion made him forget his fear for a moment.
Bjorn should have anticipated the question, and now that he was faced with it, he considered answering it truthfully. But it would only be a half-truth, because he was bound by the deal of secrecy he’d struck with Norga, and it may be dangerous for them to know too much.
“I find myself in need of a companion.” His words were glib, and never before had he lied so blatantly. It felt like a betrayal of her, of her worth. “She caught my eye, and I would have her.”
“Have her?” There was no mistaking the suggestion the brother was making. And crude though he was being, he had the right of it. Bjorn hesitated, but they would not believe him if he said he did not want her in that way, and he was afraid they would imagine worse things.
“Yes. Have her.”
“You would marry her?” The father frowned in confusion.
“Alas, I cannot. Perhaps one day . . .” He thought of the circumstances which would free him to marry her. It would mean he’d have won. He’d have beaten Norga for good and there would be no wedding between him and Norga’s daughter. “When my enchantment is over.”
“Why would I give you my daughter, then? If you don’t intend to make a respectable woman of her.”
Was that a considering look he’d seen in the woodsman’s eyes? A glint of greed? A look passed between father and son, and Bjorn felt a stir of disgust. And he was as soiled at they were, horse-trading a woman’s innocence.
It could not be helped and he had no time to play coy. And enough gold to dazzle Astrid’s father.
“If you can persuade your daughter to come with me, I will make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams.”
“How would you do that?”
“I have two sacks of gold right here.” Bjorn shuffled back and revealed the bulging bags beside him.
Both men’s eyes widened at the sight of them.
“I will make her go—”
“No!” It came out as a roar, and the woodsman cringed back. The brother stood his ground, but Bjorn saw his whole body trembled with fear.
Bjorn shook his head. “She must come willingly or not at all.”
The father looked back at the house. Hesitated.
It would not be easy, Bjorn realized. His Astrid was not one to blindly obey. She had spirit and courage, as he’d found out in the woods. It gave him a moment’s pause, and a flare of admiration.
“Father?” Someone fought the door open, and Bjorn saw a second, younger son step into the rain and raise a lantern. “Who is there?”
The father and the first son shared a quick look.
Ah, Bjorn thought, here is Astrid’s champion. The one who will stand i
n my way.
He bowed even lower than he had before. “Good evening, sir.”
“Give me a moment to speak with her,” the father said.
He turned and went past the gaping younger son, through the door. The older son followed him, and after a moment of staring, the younger one stepped back within. As the door closed in his face, Bjorn wondered if Astrid would be persuaded tonight.
The shrieking wind laughed at his hopes.
Chapter Four
“Who is there?” Astrid took in Tomas’s white face, the suppressed excitement in Father’s stance, and twisted the embroidery in her hands.
“Do you know who was watching you earlier?” Her father stepped closer to her, and for the first time since this afternoon there was no edge to his tone.
Astrid shook her head, felt her heart trying to escape from her ribcage.
“It was a bear. A giant bear, you were quite right,” Eric said, the words bursting out of him, earning him a dark look from Father. “A magical white bear.”
Freja gasped, and her mother made a choking noise, her eyes going wildly to the door. Bets said nothing, hugging her knees tighter to her body as she sat on the floor.
Astrid looked at Tomas. “A giant, magical, white bear?”
Tomas nodded, and there was something in the way his eyes slid to Father and Eric that made Astrid’s every nerve tingle with warning.
“He wants you for his own, Astrid. As a companion.” Eric opened his arms, pleadingly. “And if you will willingly go with him, he promises to take care of your every need.”
“And the two bags of gold?” Tomas asked, and it was as if the night’s cold autumn rain had seeped into his voice.
“If you become his, he wants to see to the well-being of your family, too. He will give us the gold, so we have no more worries.” Father spoke quickly, but there were patches of high color on his cheeks.
“What kind of companion?” Her mother leaned forward on her chair, her eyes on Father.
Her father looked at the ground, the flush creeping down his neck. “I do not know.” He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. “He said he cannot marry her.”
There was an extended silence at her father’s words.
“Why not?” Tomas’s question cut through the shock. “Why can’t he marry her if he wants her in that . . . way?”
“Perhaps his enchantment forbids it.” Eric tried to shrug with nonchalance. But for once, even he was thoughtful.
“And what is the nature of his enchantment?” Astrid asked, feeling as if both bags of gold were lying in the pit of her stomach.
“Ask him.” Tomas stepped toward the door, and opened it.
“No—” Father spun, tried to grab the door, but Tomas swung it wider, and Astrid took her courage in both hands and walked toward it. Toward the eyes.
She felt Tomas at her side as she stood just within the threshold and stared up at her suitor.
“Astrid.”
He spoke her name as if it were a jewel he was holding to the light. She only came to his shoulder, he was so huge. A hulking mass of white fur, his black eyes looking out at her, not with the wild canniness of an animal, but with the cool intelligence of a man.
“Sir.” She forced herself into a curtsey, then shivered as the rain needled her, and fear shook her core. “We meet again.”
“Indeed.” He bowed to her, managing to look threatening and polite at the same time. “I don’t give up, as you can see.”
She ignored that. “My father says you wish to have me. As a companion.” Her tone leaned heavily on the word companion.
The bear gave a huff of surprise, but did not deny it.
“I wish to know why you want me, and why I should go with you.”
“As to why I want you,” his voice was a deep growl, “it is because you are like a ray of sunshine to me. You will grace my life and bring me happiness.” He shuffled his huge body. “As to why you should go with me . . . I will care for you, and give you everything you could desire. I will give you a new world.”
A new world? Astrid started. Had she not wished for just such a thing, only minutes ago? Had she not looked at her mother and longed for something else?
Be careful what you wish for.
She swallowed. “Who enchanted you and why?”
Again he huffed, looked at her more closely. “I cannot tell you.”
“Then I cannot go with you.” She lifted her chin. “Good evening to you, sir.”
Then she stepped back and closed the door.
* * *
Bjorn blinked away the rain as he stood, stunned, outside the house.
Whatever he’d imagined her to be, the fierce, intelligent woman at the door had not been it. From her countenance he’d thought she’d be biddable, shy.
The wind howled with glee at his mistake.
The door swung open again, and her father stepped out to join him, wincing as the wind slammed the door shut behind him.
“Give me three days, Bear. Come again with the gold and ask for her one more time.”
Her father’s eyes slid to the two sacks.
“You think her answer will have changed?”
“We are a poor family,” her father forced his eyes up to Bjorn’s own. “The weather has grown colder with each passing year, our crops have not done well and we are going to have a hard winter.” He looked at the gold again. “Astrid is headstrong, but she loves her family, and she will sacrifice a great deal to see her mother happy.”
Even her father thought going with him would be a sacrifice.
“Do you love your daughter?” he asked the woodsman. The question shamed him the moment he spoke it.
The woodsman’s face twisted at his words. “Do you want her or not?”
“I do.”
“Then come in three days.”
Bjorn scooped the sacks up and turned to go.
“Don’t forget the gold,” the woodsman called, and Bjorn could hear the defiance in his voice.
Maybe the woodsman loved his daughter, maybe he didn’t, but he was willing to sell her to a monster for enough gold.
You deserve better, Astrid, he thought as he reached the trees.
But you’re getting me, instead.
Chapter Five
She was worn down smooth as a stone in a fast-moving stream by the pressure. Or rather, ground into tiny chips of rock like a boulder in the wake of a glacier. Astrid shook a few vegetables onto the table and sat down wearily.
She ignored Freja and Eric, busy with their own chores on the other end of the kitchen table. Tomas and Bets were her only safe havens, the only two who did not try to urge her to go with the bear.
Mother said nothing to her, but Astrid had only to think of the lines on her face to ask herself why she wasn’t giving anything to ease them. Even her very life.
She knew the answer.
She’d never taken well to commands.
And they wanted her to go not just with a stranger, but with a stranger who wasn’t even a man. With a bear who could talk, and who stood twice her height and looked at her with eyes as black and keen as an eagle’s. And who could enchant her with a word, make her freeze in place whenever he wished.
Though she was prepared to sacrifice herself for the survival of the others, she’d like to do it voluntarily. She knew it was small of her, but she hated the thought of Father and Eric thinking they had won.
“It’s not as if you have such a wonderful life here anyway,” Freja suddenly spoke out while she kneaded dough. Eric stood beside her at the table, and Astrid ignored them both and shaved the skin off a carrot.
“She’s right. Father picks on you all the time. You always get the worst jobs. What have you got to lose?” Eric leaned forward, so earnest he surely could not hear what he was saying.
Astrid put down the paring knife and folded her arms.
“Thinking about the two bulging bags of gold into the bargain, as well as getting rid of me?”
At that, Freja’s eyes jerked up from her work and she looked, for the first time, stricken.
“Yes.” Eric slammed his fist into the table and shouted in her face.
She flinched, and for a long moment they stared at each other, finally seeing who the other had become.
Astrid barely heard Mother, Father, Tomas and Bets come into the room. Summoned by Eric’s shout.
“Yes, you ungrateful cow.” Eric lifted an arm and wiped the spittle from his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking about. Two bulging, lovely bags of gold, and one less mouth to feed.”
“What have you against me, Eric? I have never harmed you.”
“You take up space and food, and you are fey. You talk to the wind and you talk back.”
“Eric.” Father’s soft call was like a whip crack through the tension in the room.
“No,” Astrid spoke slowly. “He’s being honest for the first time.” She rose up and took a step toward Mother. “I will talk with the bear when he comes. I may choose to go with him, I may not.”
“That is all you have to say? With the sun almost set?” Her father shook with a wild anger that came close to violence. The kind of anger that had earned every one of them bruises from him in the past.
“That is all I have to say,” she replied, refusing to move back, or look away.
“That is all we can ask of you, Astrid,” her mother said quietly. “If we should be asking you at all.”
“He is not a troll, Gerda. For the last time, he is not a troll.” Father clenched his fists, close to snapping.
“How do you know?” her mother cried, reaching out to grab Astrid, to pull her into her arms. “And what does it matter? He is enchanted. He could be a troll. He could be anything. As it is, he is a bear.”
“Mother.” Astrid hugged her close. Loving her more at that moment than she had for a long time. Finding respect for her after thinking she’d lost it forever.
“Do not go,” her mother whispered to her. “This will only lead to unhappiness.”
Astrid put her mouth to her mother’s ear. “I will make him swear an oath before I go with him. I will not be harmed, I promise you.”
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