Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [37]
The faun only shuddered.
A thought struck the lass and she felt her stomach drop into her slippers. “Troll magic built this palace, didn’t it? It’s a troll’s enchantment that holds the isbjørn here.”
Another shudder. “I’ve said too much,” Erasmus said, real fear in his voice. “I must go.” He clattered away.
“No, wait! Please? Tell me more!” But as fast as the lass ran, he was faster, and he only shook his head without looking around.
When he reached the door that led down to the kitchens, he started down the steps but then stopped and half turned. The lass stopped as well, a few paces away, one hand outstretched in apology or pleading, she wasn’t sure which.
“The name of the faun maiden,” Erasmus said suddenly, his voice strangled. “The one who defied the troll princess and died because of her wicked tongue.”
The lass had to lick her lips to make any word come out. “Yes?”
“It was ‘Narella.’ In our language, it means ‘bright one.’ “ And then he hurried down the dark stairway to the servants’ domain.
“Narella,” the girl said. It was a beautiful name. She had a natural envy of beautiful women’s names, having gone so long without one of her own. She stilled the envy by thinking of the name bequeathed by the white reindeer, which to her was the most beautiful name of all. She stilled it, too, by thinking that the faun maiden, Narella, was dead.
“The white reindeer,” she breathed. “The white reindeer,” she repeated, louder this time. She smacked the side of her head, feeling like a fool. So many years had passed, and so much had happened since then, that she had forgotten what she had first asked the reindeer for: a cure for Hans Peter. And the reindeer, upon seeing the embroidery on the white parka, had drawn back and said that Hans Peter was troll-cursed. “I should have put these things together long ago,” she muttered to herself, feeling both foolish and frightened now.
Subdued, she went back to her apartments, where Rollo lay in his usual position before the fire. His middle was noticeably thicker from the rich steaks and sweets he had been eating and he barely stirred when she entered. She sat in a chair by the fire and put her slippered feet on his rib cage.
“Narella,” she said.
“God bless you,” he replied.
She rubbed her feet in his fur in irritation. “I’ve just been talking with Erasmus. You remember the story of the maidens who were frolicking, and then the princess discovered them and they fled? The one who didn’t run, the defiant one, was named Narella. She was a faun.” The lass took a deep breath. “And her betrothed was named Erasmus. Our Erasmus is the person being taught goodness and beauty.”
Rollo rolled out from under her feet and sat up. “Did he tell you this?”
“No. And yes. I found him looking at the pillars, and I showed him the right one, and he said that the symbol I couldn’t figure out, beneath the symbol for maiden, means faun. Then I asked him what the symbol under the one for princess meant.”
“What does it mean?” Rollo’s ears were pricked forward, and he was leaning in close to her, his chest pressed against her knees.
“Troll.” Saying it again made her shiver.
It was nothing compared to the shudder that racked Rollo, raising his hackles and curling his lips over his white teeth. “Then that rotten smell is the smell of troll,” he said.
He went into the bedchamber. The lass, following, saw him go through the chamber and into her dressing room. He stood in the middle of the rug there, looking at her.
“What are you doing?” She stopped in the doorway, putting one hand on the frame. She felt tired, drained, and sick. Troll magic.
“Put on your old things.” The wolf’s voice was tense. “We’re leaving.”
“We can’t.”
“Nobody said anything about having to live in a troll’s lair.” Every muscle in Rollo’s body was tense.
“Rollo, I gave my word that I would stay here for one year. It’s only been two months.”
“And the bear promised that you would not be harmed.”
“But I haven’t been. We’re perfectly safe.”
“It’s not safe. How could it be safe? Trolls! Trolls!” He paced nervously. “Erasmus is