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Tears filled her eyes, and she swallowed. The anger passed, and then she became afraid, for if the bear was not her friend in this place, then she had no friends at all.

But he was the reason she had come, and the anger returned, and she was both afraid and angry. She stuffed both feelings down in her heart and lifted her chin in a rush of proud determination not to show her fear.

She followed the bear down the hall, though she could feel his disapproval with every step. He turned down another corridor, and at last the narrow space opened to another spacious hall. The room was golden, with gold inlaid on every visible stone surface, and tapestries of green and gold and scarlet covered the walls. The floor was covered in thick carpets of blue and green with many glittering golden threads. Light filled the room, spillingfrom crystal and gold lamps like liquid sunlight. Far overhead sparkling chandeliers lit the vaulted ceiling.

The room was dazzling, and Gytha breathed a sigh of relief. She had not realized until then how oppressive the darkness felt, as if the whole crust of the earth pressed upon her.

The bear stood some distance away looking toward her, and when she met his gaze, he growled softly, so low that she could barely hear him.

Over the low menace of his growl was the sound of bells and ice cracking, and the queen swept toward her. Her face glittered in the light, and her slender hands were as strong as steel and cold as ice when she touched Gytha’s cheek.

“So beautiful! She’s so warm, bear. You are right!” She smiled triumphantly.

Her teeth were pointed!

Gytha tried to be brave, but she felt her heart pounding again.

The queen swept her toward a dais at the far end of the room. So many other objects and surfaces glittered that Gytha only now noticed the gilded throne upon the dais. The seat and back were upholstered in short, dark fur which Gytha did not recognize, and the arms and legs gleamed gold. Below the throne were steps hewn of the pale stone, with a decorative edge carved into the front of each one.

The queen dropped Gytha’s arm as she sailed up the steps. She flung herself into the chair with a sigh and crossed her long legs. “Sit there!” Her voice was hard and sharp.

She pointed at the steps in front of her, and Gytha sank to sit on the second step from the top, careful not to sit on the queen’s robes.

There was another chair beside her throne, slightly plainer but still glittering with gold. Gytha wondered whether it was for her king and whether she would meet him. The thoughtset her heart racing again, and she twisted her hands together in her lap.

The queen’s robes splayed out across the chair and down the steps, many layers of silk and fur. None of the layers were wool, and the fur seemed to be only for ornamentation, not warmth; the dress left her long arms and her throat bare. She did not seem to mind the cold.

“Sit still!” She jabbed at Gytha with the point of one sharp shoe, and Gytha swallowed her protest.

“Bear!” The queen’s voice rang out like shattering glass. “Dance for me!”

The bear shuffled forward and stood heavily in the middle of the room on all fours. His head hung down, and Gytha thought he looked terribly sad.

“Dance!” the woman cried. Several servants, all with that strange gray complexion, filed in through the far door and stood silently watching.

Then there was music, though Gytha could not see where it came from. The bear rose up on his hind legs and shuffled forward and then back. Side to side.

The music was quick and sharp, but his movements were slow. Was he resentful? Sad? Furious? Or merely exhausted? Gytha couldn’t tell.

The show, such as it was, went on for what felt like hours. The bear continued his sad dance, and Gytha watched him awkwardly. She listened for his voice, but he said nothing. His eyes never met hers.

At last, when Gytha’s eyes had filled with sympathetic tears, the queen cried abruptly, “That’s enough! I am tired of this poor entertainment. Go away, bear!”

The bear dropped to all fours again and shuffled to the side, where he lay down with his sad, dark eyes on Gytha’s face.

“Prepare food for my guest!” cried the queen to the servants. The servants hurried away, and the queen turned her full attention to Gytha.

Her eyes were a cold, silvery gray, and even in the warm light of the many lanterns and chandeliers, her skin had a gray-blue tone much like that of the servants. Had she been that color before? Gytha was sure she had been alabaster-pale before, a more human tone.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked.

“No.” Gytha shook her head.

The woman shot a poisonous look toward the bear before looking back at Gytha. “I am Javethai, Queen of the North! Shall I assume you know the rules of your stay here?”

Gytha hesitated. “He told me, but I would like to hear them from you, too, if you don’t mind,” she said carefully.

Queen Javethai laughed, and the sound was sharp and brittle. “Clever girl! For a year and a day, you will stay here in my palace. Food and drink and entertainment will be provided for you, and no danger will trouble you.