Page 19

M ile after mile they walked, until Gytha felt sweaty and chilled and her legs burned with effort.

“I need a rest,” she said reluctantly.

The bear collapsed where he stood, and he made no sound as she snuggled into him. She fell asleep without eating anything.

The journey north was like an exhausted fever dream.

When they woke, Alexander waited for her to eat.

Then he insisted that Gytha climb on his back, and he began to run.

At times his feet stumbled, and the heaving of his sides told her he was nearly dead on his feet, but he pressed on, driven by desperation and magic, until again they entered the underground palace.

Alexander carried her all the way to her room, which was just as she had left it. She slid down his shoulder, and he collapsed to the floor .

“Thank you.” Her knees nearly buckled as she knelt beside him.

He said nothing, and indeed he seemed to be barely breathing.

She changed into her nightclothes in the dark, slid beneath the covers, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Not long after, she woke because her unseen visitor fell into the bed with unusual clumsiness. She felt a rush of gratitude toward him; he had spent his strength to bring her home and back safely. But it was too strange to think of him as a man; it was easier to speak to a bear.

Sleep claimed her again before she could think of anything to say to him.