East

Rose

ONLY ONE DAY BEFORE my departure, and Father still had not returned. Already my family was begging me to stay longer, at least until Father came back. For a moment I imagined doing as they asked and pictured myself going to the white bear and saying, "Just a bit longer. Just until Father comes home." And then I would remember that look in his eyes.

The harm he had spoke of—I wondered to whom it would happen. To me? Or to him?

The thought of those doors to the castle in the mountain shutting behind me made my breath go short and my heart pound in my chest. Remembering the despair I'd felt, the indifference to the days passing, frightened me. Maybe this time I would die.

I told myself that month of freedom would last me for a long time. And perhaps he would allow me to visit again, even longer the next time. But I didn't believe it.

Anyway, it didn't matter. I had made a promise.

I was in the room I shared with my sisters, doing the scant packing I needed to do, when Mother entered. I had successfully avoided being alone with her after our one encounter, and I felt guilty, though I was always kind and attentive to her when we were with others. My heart sank a little when she appeared then, but I smiled at her.

"I won't disturb you long," she said. "I have brought a few things for you to take back." She laid a small bundle on the bed next to me. Opening it she handed me a jar. "Some of neighbor Torsk's sweet honey. And look, a vest made for you by Widow Hautzig."

"Oh, how nice," I said, admiring the soft heathery wool, though I knew full well that Mother had surely paid the widow generously for her work.

"And here is some of that toffee candy you like so well. And a new handkerchief. And some hair ribbons from Sara ... Your hair is getting so long, my dear, and quite lovely. Oh, and a candle, and flint. 'Tis a special flint, the latest thing. And the candle is also quite nice, slow burning, and I am told it will stay lit even in a strong wind. Whether or not that is so, I can't say, but it may come in handy during your journey back to the castle." I gazed at the candle, which was a creamy ivory color, then up at Mother's face. Had Neddy told her of the unlightable darkness in my bedchamber? I did not believe it of him. Yet a candle, a candle that stayed lit ... Her face was calm, placid. There was no hint of deception there.

"Just a few things from home, dear, that may bring you comfort until you can return to us for good."

"Thank you, Mother." I leaned over and hugged her. Then I took the things she had given me and stowed them in my pack.

I didn't know how I would get through the good-byes. I had thought of slipping away during the night to avoid them altogether, but that would have been cowardly, and I didn't want to miss even one moment with my family.

The night before the moon had been new, the same silver eyelash I had pointed to when I had parted from the white bear. I had counted the days carefully.

When the time came for me to leave, we were all subdued. I gave each of them a quick hug, swallowing my tears.

"Let me walk with you, partway at least, to where you will meet..." Neddy said.

I nodded and was grateful for his arm around my shoulders as we left the farmhouse. And the tears I had held back overflowed down my cheeks.

Fishing in my pocket for the handkerchief Mother had given me, I said, "Neddy, please, when you see Father, tell him that ... that I love him and that I am sorry for the angry words I said when I saw him last." I paused. "And tell him to forgive Mother, if he can. She needs him, I think"

"I will tell him," Neddy responded.

"And keep an eye on Widow Hautzig, Neddy. I don't trust her."

"Nor do I."

"I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet your Master Soren. Thank him for me, for all he's done for us. And Neddy..." I turned and looked him in the eye. "Go to Trondheim, study with the scholar there. Do not wait for me to return. I will know how to find you if you are not here."

Neddy was silent.

"Promise me."

"I don't know..."

"Neddy."

"I will think about what you said," he replied reluctantly. "But you will be back soon," he added with conviction. "And you can come to Trondheim as well." There was a pause. "Rose, if ... if anything should happen, if you need me for anything, promise me you'll get word to me. I will come to you, no matter where you are."

"Thank you, Neddy. I will be fine."

It was time to part. I clung to him a moment, then hurried away.

The white bear was where I had left him a moon cycle ago, standing beside the brook and weeping willow. He looked as if he had not moved from the spot.

I didn't know how to greet him, so said nothing. He gazed at me for a long time, and I read something approaching joy in those bottomless eyes. I felt guilty at the traces of tears on my face.

Then he said, "Come," and I had to find my balance on his broad white back all over again.