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“Then what’s wrong?”

He closed his eyes again. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home.”

“What’s wrong? Last night you said something about dying.”

The door opened behind her, but she didn’t look to see who it was.

Alexander’s voice was so low and quiet that she barely heard him, and she bent closer. “If you will not finish the bargain…it is better for me to die here…with the light upon my face.” His great furry sides heaved with effort. “If I can dare to call you a friend, I am content.”

Ivarr knelt beside Gytha. “Bear, what can we do to help?” He did not have his axe. “Do you need to eat? You have given us fish and meat; it is only fair that we share with you whatever you need.”

The bear chuckled, low and rough and hopeless. “That was for you. I need Gytha to finish the bargain, or I die. But I do not ask it.”

“Why not?” Gytha said, appalled. “I didn’t know you would die if I left that place. Why didn’t you tell me before we got all the way here?”

He took several deep, shuddering breaths, and Gytha wrapped her arms around his neck. With her hand in the fur beneath his jaw, she could feel his heart thudding raggedly.

“It must be a free choice. But now I cannot ask, because…you have what I want.” He stopped, his sides heaving. “For two centuries and more I have wanted…love like this. I would not take you from your family.”

“You can’t ask, or you won’t?” Ivarr said quietly.

The bear growled low in his throat. “I must not. It is wrong to put my wants before yours.”

Gytha did not realize tears were slipping down her cheeks until her father handed her his handkerchief. She wiped them and buried her face in Alexander’s neck, but he was lost in sleep or something deeper, and he did not react. His breaths were shallow and unsteady, and she felt the guilt like a heavy knot in her stomach.

For an hour, she paced back and forth across the yard, but she could come to no other answer that satisfied her. She must return north; both honor and compassion demanded it. Besides, she had said she would. Or at least she had implied it, if not outright promised.

Sigrid said hesitantly, “Is it possible he is not entirely honest with you? That he is perhaps acting a little more ill than he is, to tug on your heart?”

Gytha chewed her lip. “It is possible. But I do not believe he is. He has been only kind to me. If he wanted to keep me there, he could have. He gave me the freedom to choose by bringing me home.”

Her father said quietly, “I heard him this time. Not just rumbling and growling, but I heard words.” His eyes searchedher face. “How about you, Gytha? Do you believe him?”

“I do.” She closed her eyes against his compassionate gaze. “I do believe him, and I cannot let him die because I was lonely. I am glad to know you are well. I was worried.”

Ivarr nodded reluctantly and put out his arm. She flung her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. His arm around her shoulders was strong, not thin and weak, and his hand cupped the back of her head, as he had done when she was a small girl. His voice was soft. “It grieves me to let you go again, but I think you are right. His voice is kind, and he spent a great deal of time hunting for us in winter and spring. The little ones, and your mother, perhaps all of us, live because of the meat he brought. We had enough to share with others, too; there are many in the village who might have lost someone in their lodge if not for him.”

She nodded without looking up, letting the comfort of his embrace give her courage.

“I am proud of you, Gytha.” His arms tightened around her. “I know it is hard, but you are brave. You can do hard things because they are worth doing.”

“Thank you, Pabbi.” She gave him her fiercest hug and then straightened to look him in the eyes. “You and Mother are good examples of courage. I will be brave, because you have shown me how.” She swallowed hard and then said, “I had better say goodbye.”

Tears stood out in Ivarr’s eyes, but he nodded sharply. He kept an arm around her shoulders as they strode inside together.

The explanations and goodbyes were both too long and too short, and soon Gytha was shaking Alexander’s shoulder.

“Wake up, please. I will go back with you.”

It took some time to rouse him, and finally the thing that brought him fully awake was Brinja clambering atop his head andspeaking directly into his ear. “Wake up, bear! Please wake up! Gytha is crying!”

He snuffled and grumbled and finally rumbled, “Don’t fall off, little sister.”

Brinja slid down his jaw and tumbled cheerfully to the ground. She thrust her small hands into the fur of his neck and patted him as confidently as if he were a lamb.

But his breathing was labored, and he did not rise.

Gytha said, “I don’t want you to die, Alexander. Can you get up? I will go back with you to finish the bargain.”