CurseBreaker Read online

  Chapter Three

  I ride on the polar bear’s back in silence until finally, the polar bear asks, “Are you afraid, Helga?”

  "Don't call me that." I shudder at the name I hate so much coming from his lips. The way he draws out the two syllables with that growling tone in his voice chills me.

  "What do I call you, Helga?" The polar bear teases.

  "Everyone calls me Hel," I try to hide the bitterness in my voice. The only people that call me Helga are Mother and Father.

  "After the Goddess of the Dead?" Curiosity colors the polar bear’s voice.

  "My grandmother died at the exact moment I was born. They say my soul came into the world to guide hers out." And my siblings have never forgiven me for taking away their beloved grandmother, I silently add. I remember stories of the vibrant soul Nona Brynja had been. Everyone who met her loved her and then I came along and took her away.

  "Well then, Hel of the dead it is," the polar bear dubs me, unaware of my resentful thoughts. “So are you?”

  “Am I what?” My forehead creases in confusion.

  “Afraid,” the polar bear taunts.

  “No,” I reply too quickly to be believed.

  “Don’t be, just mind and hold tightly to my shaggy coat and you’ll be fine.” the polar bear responds, “after all, it is I that should fear you o’ bringer of death.”

  I choose to ignore his joke as I ask, “do you have a name?”

  “Of course,” the polar bear replies as if I’m slow-witted for asking.

  “Are you going to tell me what it is?” I ask.

  “Nope,” I can practically feel the smile on the polar bear’s face, “Perhaps later.”

  I shake my head and fall silent as the night continues and the path before us continues ever onward. On and on we go, never once having to change course as some magic force clears any obstruction out of our way. I briefly wonder how the polar bear finds his way in the dark as my eyes finally begin to droop and I cling to the polar bear’s downy coat as I drift off to sleep. The last thing I see before my dreams drag me under is the forest bursting into light, but it might have been my mind playing tricks on me.

  I wake up on a hard, dry surface wrapped in my cloak. I open my eyes slowly so they can adjust to the flickers of light playing peek-a-boo through the trees overhead. As I look around the forest my mind plays catch up as I remember the events of the last week.

  I stretch and sit up slowly, my back knotting up from sleeping on the ground. Sitting up on his back legs the polar bear stares at me thoughtfully from a few feet away.

  “Where are we?” I ask through an unladylike yawn.

  “About a half day’s journey from your home,” the polar bear answers after a moment’s thought. “Even beasts have to stop and rest sometimes.”

  “I never said you were a beast,” I say cautiously.

  The polar bear’s knowing smile reveals that he suspects I’ve thought as much over the past week. Instead of pressing the polar bear changes the subject, “it is another two day’s journey to my home, so we’ll have to make camp again tonight and tomorrow.”

  “So far away,” I comment, “it’s a wonder you singled me out among all the women in these lands.”

  The polar bear frowns at something then says, “There’s a brook through those trees if you wish to clean yourself and you’ll find food in the pouch next to your pack. I’ll leave you to get dressed.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur as embarrassment colors my cheeks. Have I hurt the polar bear’s feelings with my words? The polar bear disappears in the opposite direction of the trees as I grab a green dress and a blue pinafore from my pack and search out the brook to bathe myself in.

  After checking to make sure the polar bear is nowhere in sight, I strip off yesterday’s skirt, jacket, and slip and wade into the brook. The frigid water shocks my system waking me up completely as I dunk my head under to rinse my hair. Resurfacing I wash my body with the coarse soap I was tasked with making several weeks ago. My mother had clucked at my failed attempt and helped me make a second batch, but now this misshapen lump is all I have.

  I swear I feel eyes upon me as I rinse the suds from my body so as quickly as possibly I wade to the shore and rush to pull on my clothing. I weave my damp hair into a loose braid and gather up my belongings and trudge back to camp.

  The polar bear is waiting for me as I stuff yesterday’s clothing into my pack and reach for the pouch of food the polar bear mentioned earlier. Inside I find a hunk of fresh bread and some jam. I look up at the polar bear questioningly.

  “I bought the bread and the jam off a merchant on the way to a nearby village before you woke,” the polar bear answers my unasked question.

  “Would you like some?” I ask as I hold out the breakfast he’d thoughtfully gotten for me.

  The polar bear shakes his head, “no, I got it for you.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur as I tear the hunk of bread in half and spread the jam over that half with my finger. I lick the jam off my finger and tuck the other half of the bread back into the pouch to save for later. After sampling the bread I exclaim, “it’s still warm!”

  “I suspect it was recently made,” the polar bear says as he watches me devour the warm flaky bread and delicious jam.

  “My father and brothers usually get the bread fresh from the oven,” I tell him, “when we have flour, I mean. It’s usually gone cold by the time I get a piece, but lately, we’ve mostly been eating porridge which can stay hot in the cauldron for hours, getting thicker the longer it sits.”

  “Your brothers should learn to share,” the polar bear replies.

  “Oh Bjorn and Axel would, I’m just not as early a riser as they are,” I admit. “Donar is selfish, though, and Leif and Espen are young yet so they cannot help themselves. Mother spoils them, anyway.”

  “And your sisters?” the polar bear prompts.

  I shrug, “my sisters are more concerned with their figures so they don’t eat much anyway.”

  The polar bear nods as if he understands.

  “Do you have any family?” I ask uncertainly.

  The bear looks off into the distance and whispers to the wind, “I did long, long ago.”

  The polar bear doesn’t say another word as I finish my breakfast and as soon as I’m done he checks the sky and tells me, “We should get going. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

  “Okay,” I reply as I gather my bundle and get on his back again. I cling to the soft fur at the nape of the polar bear’s wide neck as he navigates us through the thickening forest.

  We travel until the forest turns into barren snow covered fields and the mist covered sun rises high in the sky.

  “Are you tired?” I ask the polar bear when it dawns on me that carrying me might be sapping up all of the polar bear’s energy.

  “No,” the polar bear replies and keeps going.

  Talkative aren’t we? I let the thought flit from my mind without voicing it. Whatever the polar bear has planned for me, I don’t want to anger him.

  The snow drifts rise to the polar bear’s hips and shoulders as we begin to gain altitude. In the distance, great jagged mountains rise toward the sky, and still, we journey on.

  We reach the mountains just as the sun begins to dip behind them. By my guess, we must be heading west but the polar bear hasn’t given me any details about where his home is.

  “There is a cave up ahead,” the polar bear tells me, speaking to me for the first time in hours. “We will camp there for the night. It will be dry and a fire can be built to warm you.”

  “Okay,” I say as if I have any decision in the matter. I am getting sore from riding for such a great distance on the polar bear’s back.

  Once we reach the cave I climb off the polar bear’s back and stretch my stiff muscles. The polar bear rests for a minute then says, “I’ll find you something to eat, wait here.”

  He leaves so abruptly I don’t have a chance to offer to help forage fo
r something. My stomach rumbles angrily to remind me that I haven’t eaten anything since I finished off the other half of bread around midday. Even if the bear does find something, how will we cook it? How will we even be able to start a fire?

  I look up when I hear a sound at the mouth of the cave. The polar bear enters the cave on two feet carrying a satchel in one of his giant paws and a stack of sticks tucked under his other arm. Wordlessly he hands me the satchel as he drops the sticks on the ground in front of us. In the span of one eye blink, a bright crackling light fills the cave and the sticks give under a roaring fire.

  “How did you do that?” I ask.

  “Flint,” the polar bear answers. There’s something strange to his tone that makes me believe he’s lying but before I can question it he nods his head at the satchel in my hands, “I’ve brought you dinner. You should eat; I’ve heard your stomach growling for the past hour.”

  My cheeks flame as I pull some wrapped up meats and cheeses out of the satchel. “More bartering off merchants?” I inquire.

  “No,” the polar bear answers. “I knew we’d be coming this way so I stored some food here for you to eat on the journey home.”

  “You were that sure I would accept?” I ask as I meet his gaze.

  “I had hoped you would,” the polar bear says quietly. Something flashes in his eyes and I wonder about this creature. How lonely he must be to seek out the company of a girl from far away.

  I duck my head at his words and say, “the least I can do is share this meal with you.”

  The polar bear shakes his head, “there’s no need.”

  “Don't you eat?" I ask as I turn to watch the fire cast shapes on his white fur.

  “I eat wild things," the polar bear replies sounding almost embarrassed.

  “Oh,” I say dumbly, unsure I want to know exactly what the polar bear considers edible. “So we have another day yet before we reach your home?”

  “Yes,” the polar bear nods, “one more day of traveling and a night of camping then we should be within an hour’s trek from my home.”

  Traveling with the polar bear, being in his presence is different than what I imagined. Last night I dined in silence after the polar bear grew silent and went to rest up for the next leg of our journey. I fell asleep lying beside the fire and woke up with ashes coating my outstretched fingertips and my cloak once again covering me though I know that I was not wearing it when sleep grabbed hold of me last night. Is the polar bear watching me while I sleep? Did he place my cloak over me like a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold? Why?

  During my waking hours the polar bear is quiet and as we travel onward we barely speak at all, only when he asks if I’m hungry or if I need to stop and rest for a little while. The further we travel and the further we get from my home, the more changes I pick up. Everything is different as we get closer to the polar bear’s home. The air is warmer but the snow is denser. Ice clings to the branches of trees we pass but it doesn’t melt even though it’s definitely warm enough for a thaw. We pass through valleys, around mountains, and through streams. When I woke up the sun was shining but throughout the day clouds move in and eventually a light snow starts up.

  It’s when the sun begins to fade to sunset that I start to notice a shift in the polar bear’s attitude. His back muscles tense and his eyes begin to sweep the forest we’re traveling through, searching for something.

  “What is it, is something wrong?” I ask as I grip the polar bear’s fur a little tighter in my hands.

  “Shhh,” the polar bear hushes me as he listens to something in the distance. His ears perk up and a menacing growl passes his pursed lips. I scan the forest for signs of a disturbance and my eyes play tricks on me as I glimpse figures of shadow and mist peeking around the trunks of trees. “Hel, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” the urgency in the polar bear’s voice gets my attention. “I want you to run in the direction we came from and hide among the trees. Whatever you hear do not come out until I come find you. Can you do that?”

  “I can help you,” I suggest as my eyes scan the forest again. The shadow figures are creeping closer.

  “No!” the polar bear snarls. Softening his voice he adds, “Please Hel, just do as I say.”

  Reluctantly I slip from his back and run away, my cloak whipping wildly in my wake. I hear the polar bear’s powerful growl echoing through the forest as I run as fast as I can. I mentally curse the dress I’m wearing as it wraps around my legs. Behind me, I can hear the sounds of growls and inhuman whines followed by the sickening sound of flesh being ripped from bone. My braided hair slaps against my back and loose strands blur my vision as I swear I see more shadowy mist figures popping up in the direction I’m heading. I skid to a halt and change course but I can see something rushing toward me in my peripheral vision.

  Something bites my elbow and I shriek in pain as I cradle my wounded arm against my chest and try to outrun my invisible assailant.

  Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look back, I chant over and over in my head as I feel invisible hands tugging and ripping at my cloak. I spin around to fend off the grabbing hands with my pack and come face to face with my assailant at the moment it loses its invisibility. A scream reverberates through the forest and it takes me a minute to realize it is coming from me.

  I back up quickly as the eyes of the monstrous creature narrow and zero in on me. Bigger and stronger than me the creature standing before me is completely naked and covered in thick black hair on nearly every inch of its’ body. Its’ nose is large and bulbous and crazed unfocused eyes catch my every movement. A trickle of blood oozes out of the corner of its’ mouth from my elbow wound as it stalks forward hunting me. Long claw-like fingernails swing in my direction as I back into a tree trunk and throw my arms up in front of my face in a lame attempt to protect myself. I can feel the hard bark of the tree scraping my back through my dress, a small pain compared to what the troll is about to do to my face and body.

  Just as the troll is about to lunge at me the polar bear pounces on it and rips its throat out in one swipe. Excess blood splashes on my face and dress as the troll drops lifelessly to the ground.

  The stress and shock of the situation washes over to me as I sink to the ground and cover my face with my hands trying to un-see what I’ve just seen.

  “It’s alright Hel, they’re all gone now.” the polar bear tries to soothe me as he nudges me with his nose.

  “That was a troll,” I sputter as I try to catch my breath.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” the polar bear confirms regretfully.

  “Why were trolls attacking us?” I ask.

  “They weren’t attacking you exactly,” the polar bear draws out the word slowly. “They were mostly attacking you to get to me.”

  “But why?” I ask as hysteria edges into my voice.

  “It’s complicated,” the polar bear replies vaguely.

  Despite everything, I laugh a short snort of laughter, but a laugh all the same.

  The polar bear’s face contorts into something similar to relief. “There shouldn’t be any more lurking around but even so I don’t want to risk stopping and making camp again tonight. Will you be alright if we push on through the night? We should get to my home by midmorning.”

  “I’ll be alright,” I nod, eager to put as much distance between myself and the remains of the trolls as possible.

  The polar bear glances at the decimated troll, “then let’s go.”

  Instead of traveling back through the woods the polar bear cuts straight through a line of trees until we reach a narrow lane running parallel to the forest, a steep cliff drops off to the right of the lane. Picking his way carefully down the lane and scanning the forest for any further threats the polar bear plods along the winding path as I cling to his back.

  Slowly as the sunset fades into a dark blue sky full of stars, the forest on our left drops away and I relax slightly. A fishing village appears up ahead but the polar bear skirts a
round it and we leave all traces of civilization behind. As the night grows darker I try to pick up our surroundings but all I can make out are vague shapes; a tree here, a rock there, but nothing that I could really identify in the light.

  Finally, when there’s nothing to see but complete darkness I lay my face against the polar bear’s back and listen to the sound of his heart beating. The strong, steady rhythm finally relaxes me so much that sleep becomes a possibility.

  “Wake up, Hel,” the polar bear’s voice breaks into my choppy dreams. For a moment I fear that I was thrashing about on his back while nightmares of the raid that took away the future I had envisioned tormented and teased me but as I open my eyes I find that I’m still lying face down on the polar bear’s back. The morning sun is creeping up the eastern sky.

  “What is it?” I ask as I sit up and straddle his back. I scan the ground around us and find nothing but a strange energy crackles through the air. “Is it the trolls again? Are they back?”

  “No,” the polar bear laughs, “the trolls can’t get to us here. I just wanted you to see where you’re going to be living.”

  “We’re at your home already?” I ask as I look around. There isn’t a cave or a structure of any kind as far as the eye can see.

  “Not yet,” the polar bear replies, “but in just a minute when the sun shifts in a specific way you’ll be able to see my home coming up ahead. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” My voice comes out breathless, tinged with nervousness.

  “Look to the left of the sun,” the polar bear instructs. “Can you see it?”

  At first I have no idea what he’s talking about then a ray of sunlight glints off something in the distance. I gasp as four massive golden spires emerge from the morning mist, shooting straight to the sky. Connected to the spires is a massive castle, entirely made of gold. It’s blinding as the sun’s ray reflects off of it.