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Her father still stared at Alexander, who stood like a great white mountain, motionless but for the faint rippling of his thick fur in the breeze. “Take good care of my daughter,” Ivarr said, his voice rough with emotion. “Understand this: I love her, and if you hurt her, I’ll hunt you to the end of the earth and beyond. Understand?”

Alexander bowed his head solemnly, and the man pressed his lips together.

The bear’s rumbling voice reverberated in Gytha’s bones, soft and deep. “The way is very long, and your legs will tire. Will you let me carry you?” She nodded, and he lowered himself. “Climb on my back, and hold on tight.”

Her father watched in awe as she climbed up. The white fur was so thick that her legs sank into it, and she buried her hands in it, grabbing handfuls to steady herself. “Does it hurt when I hold on?”

The bear snuffled as if in soft laughter. “Not at all. Don’t fall.” Then he took off in a surging, ground-eating run that carried them into the forest in moments.

All day and night he ran without stopping, his powerful muscles working beneath Gytha’s legs. She had never ridden a horse, but it must be easier than this! She rocked and swayed, and she might have fallen off except that she clamped her legs aroundthe bear’s ribs and gripped his fur with both hands. She kept her head down to avoid the lower branches of the spruces and firs, but the bear chose paths that did not have too many low-hanging branches, and he slowed when he approached them to give her time to duck.

Gytha’s legs burned from the effort of holding on. In fact her whole body burned from the unfamiliar strain. Her face stung with the cold, and she feared that her nose had become frostbitten and fallen off. What if she returned to her family unrecognizable?

Exhaustion finally overcame her, and she lost her grip on Alexander’s fur. She slipped sideways with a helpless sense of falling into darkness.

The scent of bear and an incongruous feeling of safety and warmth filled Gytha’s senses as she woke slowly. She moved a little and then groaned; every muscle of her body ached fiercely.

“Are you hurt?” The bear’s voice rumbled through her bones.

She pulled away, struggling to make sense of where she was. The bear shifted and the world moved.

“Oh!” She had been curled up, lying between the bear’s front legs as it had laid its great head and neck over her. When she moved, snow slid off the bear’s head and fell into her face.

Gytha brushed the snow hurriedly from her face and stood up. The world was blanketed in another layer of heavy snow, though only a few fat flakes still fell. The world was gray and silver, and Gytha couldn’t tell whether it was dawn or dusk.

“Where are we?” She looked back at the bear.

He stood and shook the snow from his body in a great rush. “North.”

She looked around again. Her stomach was empty, and the feeling was both familiar and discouraging. Had she made a terrible mistake? Without the bear’s fur around her, her coat was too thin to protect her against the lethal cold.

“Is your food too frozen to eat?”

“Yes. But I will eat next time we stop.” She put two of the flatcakes and some of the elk venison into an inner pocket, where it would warm next to her body.

On every side were tall, dignified evergreens, and the snow was so thick that much of the underbrush had been entirely covered. The stillness was almost eerie.

The bear’s soft, rumbling voice broke into her thoughts. “Can you climb on again? We have a long way to go.”

Gytha’s legs buckled when she turned, and she fell to her knees, biting back a cry.

“What is wrong?”

“I’m terribly sore.” She groaned as she struggled to stand, legs trembling. “Oh, everything hurts.”

“Use me to steady yourself.”

She hauled herself upright with handfuls of his thick fur. At last she stood, resting her forehead against his shoulder and trying not to let her trembling breaths turn into tears.

“How far north are we going?” she managed.

“The end of the world.” Alexander’s voice was low and, if she wasn’t mistaken, grieved.

“Are there wolves here?”

The bear turned to look at her, his dark eyes grave. “There are wolves here, but we are going too far north even for them.”

He lowered himself to a crouch, and it still took her two tries to climb onto his back. When she was on, he began torun in the same powerful, rippling gait that had taken them so far.