Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [17]
“Go away!” She made a shooing gesture.
“Can you understand me?” The isbjørn’s voice was deep and rumbling, and it caught a little, as though it was unaccustomed to talking. Frida gave a little squeak, and Jarl lifted the knife off the table at what sounded like a threatening growl.
“Yes,” the lass replied shortly.
The bear’s eyes closed, and it came a little farther into the cottage. It was crowded against the table now, within reach of both Jarl and Hans Peter and their knives, but it did not seem to care. The black eyes opened.
“Come with me,” the bear rumbled.
“What?” The lass felt like her skin was shifting over her bones.
“You. Come with me.”
“What’s it saying?” Hans Peter’s voice was barely a whisper.
“What’s it saying?” Frida’s voice was much sharper, but not much louder. “It’s a bear! Kill it!”
“He wants me to go with him,” the lass said. Her voice shook, and she didn’t bother to whisper. She knew from the bear’s voice that he was male, and from his eyes that he did not mean to harm anyone. “Why?” This last she addressed to the bear.
The isbjørn swayed from side to side. A low moan issued from its throat. “Can’t say.” Its brow furrowed and it moaned again. “But. Need you. You come now.”
“He says he needs me to come with him,” the girl said in a bewildered voice.
“No.” Hans Peter’s face was white and strained. He waved his knife at the bear, not threatening it so much as urging it away. “No. Leave her be.”
The bear shook its head. “Need you. Please. Come with me.”
“Why do you need me?” the lass pressed. “Come where?”
“Live with me in a palace. For just one year.” Every word seemed to drag out of the bear’s broad muzzle with more and more effort.
“He wants me to live with him in a palace for one year,” the lass reported to her shocked family.
“No.” Hans Peter dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter. Whirling around, he caught hold of both of the lass’s shoulders and shook her gently. “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. You cannot know what evil there is in the world.”
“You, live in a palace?” Frida’s eyes were moving from the bear to her youngest daughter, and she looked much more interested than frightened now. She licked her lips. “So, this is an enchanted bear? Like King Valdemon in the old legends?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, woman,” Jarl growled. He had not dropped his knife. “Get away from here,” he said, brandishing his knife in a much more violent manner than Hans Peter had.
“You will not be . . . harmed,” the bear said.
Jarl took another step forward, hearing only a growl.
“Husband, wait a moment,” Frida said. “Perhaps this is the luck that Askeladden has brought.”
“Having an isbjørn take my youngest child isn’t ‘luck,’ “ Jarl replied. “And I doubt Askel had anything to do with it.”
“This is the bear he was hunting, I’m sure,” Hans Peter said. “And as I thought, it will bring no good to any of us.”
“It wants to take the pika to live in a palace.” Frida’s hands were on her hips: she was about to get stubborn.
“Mother,” Hans Peter said in that strained voice, “you cannot know what you are saying. This is not a natural thing—you said yourself that this was an enchanted bear. You cannot want the lass to enter into this enchantment.”
The lass gently moved out of her brother’s grip and stood so that she could look the bear in the eyes again. The bear gazed back, its black eyes holding the same hurt and pain that she saw in Hans Peter’s. “You will not harm me?”
“No!” Hans Peter grabbed one of her hands in both of his. “No!”
“Oh, act like a man,” Frida snarled at him. “Your sister has an opportunity most people could only dream of, to—”
“To enter into such horror that you cannot imagine,” Hans Peter said in anguish.
“To live in a palace,” Frida finished.
Even the isbjørn froze at this pronouncement, and all eyes were now on the lass’s mother.