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She patted his cheek affectionately and then said, embarrassed, “I’m sorry! Was that too bold?”

Alexander’s surprised chuckle caught her off guard. “Someone must be bold, and it cannot be me. Don’t forget the rules, Gytha.” He lowered himself to let her climb on. “Lie down on me. Your jacket is too thin for this place.”

When they set off again, Gytha could feel his fatigue and reluctance in every step, but he did not falter. He climbed yet another low hill, and then crossed a long stretch of broken ice chunks.

“I’ve never seen land like this.” Gytha sat up and looked around curiously. Her eyebrows were covered in frost, and every breath felt like it was burning her with ice from the inside out. Her eyeballs felt like they were freezing in their sockets. She shivered convulsively and leaned down to press her body into his fur, her eyes closed. Her back might freeze, but her face was full of the scent of clean, snowy bear.

He was safe.

Then there was a strange sound, like a rushing of wind and water and stone unlike anything she had ever heard before. His steps shifted and his body tilted, so that she felt she might slip forward if she did not hold on even more tightly.

She peeked through the rippling white fur. He was following a narrow, precarious path down a cliffside. To her left a steep rock face rose up above their heads. To her right, shecould not see the ground, and the strange rushing sound came from far below.

“Remember, Gytha. Trust me, if you can, and be brave.” The bear’s words were almost inaudible.

Gytha took a deep, shaky breath and stretched a little farther.

Enormous chunks of ice surged atop the water, like the layer of ice atop a bucket that had been broken but not melted. The icebergs crunched against each other with the force of the ocean waves below. Bits of froth were visible at intervals between the sharp edges as the ice chunks broke apart and crashed together again.

As far as she could see, the starlight glinted on a vast, broken, shifting sheet of ice.

This was the edge of the world.

Chapter 4

After many minutes, the steep path widened onto a small promontory, an ice-crusted and precarious outcropping with the salt wind whipping up in their faces. Alexander turned left into a cave and an even deeper darkness.

The path was level, and for some distance he did not turn to either side. Gytha kept herself flat on his back, both for warmth and for fear of bashing her head on some unseen rock. The darkness was absolute.

Soon the rushing of the waves grew distant and Alexander turned downward on a long, sloping path. At last there was a faint light around a corner. When they reached it, Gytha could see that they were in a long, rough hallway carved of stone, and at the end there was a set of softly glowingdoors.

When they drew closer, Gytha saw that the doors were made of ice or some translucent crystal, for the pattern on them was intricate but hard to discern. The refracted light gleamed and glittered on many carved surfaces, so that the doors were like two enormous jewels.

The doors swung outwards, and a strange little man nodded them inside. Alexander and Gytha passed through a short hallway into a great hall, which was lit with myriad lamps. She looked at the little man, but after so long in darkness, her eyes were dazzled, and she could not tell what about him had struck her as so strange.

The hall was a marvel! The ceiling rose far overhead, carved of smooth stone and vaulted in elegant lines. Great columns marched up each side of the room. The floor was polished stone, but over it were thick carpets of unusual colors, colors Gytha had only seen in small, expensive bundles of embroidery thread. So many rugs of such fine thread was almost unimaginable!

On every wall hung tapestries of equally fine make, and near one corner there was a desk, beside which there were several baskets containing a few skeins of wool, and knitting needles. The room was cold. The bear walked through it as though it were familiar and uninteresting, but Gytha craned her neck to see it all.

Alexander continued through the center of the room and turned into another corridor which led to another room of similar size, with different tapestries and carpets, and then another room, smaller, with a fireplace, and another room with a pool of water beneath a waterfall, and another like the first. Then another hall and more rooms, great hall after great hall, all luxurious and unique and deserted. At last, after another corridor, the bear turned through an open door into a room smaller than the rest but still quite spacious, about the size of her family’s lodge, including the side that housed the animals and the storeroom.

On one wall there was a fireplace, cold now but with logs cut and kindling ready. There was a low pallet of thick woolen blankets and piles of furs, enough to be comfortable even without sisters to help warm it. The ceiling was not as high as in the other rooms, nor was it smooth; the stone had been intricately carved to depict flowers and vines, the delicate petals coming out of the stone in gorgeous relief.

Alexander crouched, and Gytha slid off his back with a groan. Her sore legs buckled, and she fell in an ungainly heap to the floor. The bear lowered his head in what appeared to be sympathy.

Without rising, Gytha looked around, noting the washing basin carved into the wall. Next to it was a wooden table with a lovely alabaster pitcher. The room was lit by several lamps on small tables throughout the room. The light was warm and friendly, picking out the red accents in the thick rugs layered in front of the fire.

On another wall, several low wooden shelves held books! Even the rich merchants in town only had a dozen or so books, and these shelves held several hundred. The books were large, with neatly lettered titles painted in gold on the spines. The leather covers looked old, well-used but well-kept. There was something tall in the corner covered with a white cloth that draped all the way to the flagstone floor.

By the sleeping pallet, there was a pair of lambskin slippers and a robe of heavy silk.

“Is this where you live?” Gytha turned to Alexander, who lowered his head and stared at her wordlessly.

No, that could not be right. Everything except the books looked new, yet Gytha had the feeling this was a very old place. Old, and full of stories. Full of sorrows.

Besides, bears did not sleep in beds, nor did they need layers of wool or lambskin slippers to stay warm. What a strange thought. This room was obviously intended to be hers.

Gytha got to hands and knees, grimacing as her sore legs protested, and slowly made her way to her feet. The room spun for a moment, and she wondered why she was dizzy again.