CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The White-Bear’s Den

Fast and faster Saga slid, whizzing round twists and shooting round bends until she couldn’t help laughing out loud. It was an ice flume that ran all the way down through the castle and the mountain, and it was better than sledging. Saga whooped. When the flume came to an abrupt end, she tumbled on to a pile of fluffy snow outside. She lay there for a moment, until there was a whumpf and another pair of boots shot out. Saga scrambled away, but she wasn’t quick enough and a large fist hoisted her up by the back of her furs and sat her aside.

‘Oops, nearly squashed you there,’ a booming voice chortled. It was the huge raider who had led the others in the battle cry last night. He had long, braided blond hair, a nose that was bent in two places and light-blue eyes that were surprisingly friendly. His spear, shield and axe came clattering out of the ice flume behind him. ‘There we go.’ He picked them up, slinging his shield on to one arm and tapping it proudly. ‘Never go anywhere without my sun.’ His shield was wooden, reinforced with leather and painted with a cheery sun wheel. ‘Name’s Torben.’ He clasped Saga’s wrist and they shook. ‘Now, who might you be?’

‘I’m Saga.’

‘You’re a little young to be venturing so far north, Saga.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘I reckon you’re braver than any raider I know. It’s good that you are not ruled by fear like most.’

‘Well …’ Saga faltered, afraid that soon she would have to confront her fear of the runes. More and more contestants were now shooting down the ice flume and they were all grown up and confident in their magic.

Torben leaned down. ‘Remember, it is not the number of raiders that seize a victory, but those who charge forward the most fiercely!’ He banged his axe on his shield and strode off, joining the other raiders.

Luckily, Ruvsá and Canute appeared not long after, along with Elof, whose furs were squirming suspiciously.

Saga narrowed her eyes. ‘You didn’t bring your kitten with you, did you?’

‘Of course not.’ Elof tried to look serious, but his dark-brown eyes shimmered with mischief. A fluffy tail popped out of his collar and he pushed it back in a hurry. ‘Squirrel’s safe in my room,’ he promised.

Ruvsá’s mouth twitched as Saga struggled not to laugh.

Then Rollo shot out of the flume and landed on his feet, gracefully brushing ice from his blue robes. Without waiting to see who would follow him, he set off into the dark wilderness, away from the sorcerers’ mountain. The lantern he carried flickered blue-green, like a lost wisp of the Northern Lights. Saga hurried after him, along with the rest of the contestants, who were jostling each other and making jokes, each determined to prove that they were the most fearless – apart from Leif and Unn, who kept themselves away from everyone else, conversing in whispers.

After the enchanted warmth of the ice castle, the cold was a shock. Saga’s teeth chattered, she shivered and shook, and her eyelashes froze. If only Bjørn was with her, then she could nestle into his fur and bury her face in his familiar smell. He always smelled like home. But she had left him behind, so it was just Saga and the cold gnawing at her bones. Then Ruvsá skipped forward and shyly looped her arm with Saga’s and some of the chill faded away.

After a long trek over the ice, Rollo stopped in what looked like the middle of nowhere and lifted his lantern high. The contestants all craned their necks to see what this first task held for them.

‘It’s another hole,’ Canute said.

‘Like another ice flume?’ Saga asked, thinking of their exit from the castle.

But Ruvsá shook her head. ‘More like a white-bear den.’

Canute and Saga both stared at Ruvsá.

‘Do they expect us to go down there?’ Saga gasped.

‘That is exactly what I expect, Saga Thorolfsdottir.’ Rollo’s voice slunk down Saga’s spine like a shiver.

Saga frowned. ‘How do you know my name?’

The lanternlight danced over Rollo’s face, turning his long silver hair an eerie green. ‘I have lived in this ice castle for longer than you can imagine, child. I am not merely a harvester of magic, a guardian of Bifrost – I am magic.’ He bent closer to whisper in her ear. ‘And I know all.’

Saga’s heart quickened.

Rollo stepped away and raised his voice. ‘As some of you have surmised, this is a bear den. There is a talisman for each of you hidden inside. You must retrieve it. Remember, the white bear of the Far North is a ferocious creature, a killer who hunts with tooth and claw, and as strong as the allfather, Odin, himself. You will enter one at a time. And you may not harm the white bear in any way.’

‘Why are there not more sorcerers to bear witness to this challenge?’ Torben asked. ‘How will you alone be able to tally our attempts and judge who has passed?’

Rollo’s smile was ominous. Saga buried her cringe in her fluffy collar, worried for Torben.

‘The other sorcerers have matters of greater importance to tend to,’ Rollo said. ‘They have no desire to stand outside in the cold, nor remove your bear-eaten remains. As for tallying, I can assure you I am more than up to this task, though if you continue to question me I may be inspired to … forget some of your points.’

Torben raised his shield a little at that, but said nothing. A few of the other raiders muttered something in an undertone, but none dared speak aloud. Elof’s eyes had widened at the mention of bear-eaten remains and he was now holding on to the meowing bulge in his furs, half hiding behind Canute, while Saga was busy wondering what was so important that the sorcerers never left their ice castle, not even to watch a nearby contest taking place.

Ruvsá’s arm tightened round Saga’s. ‘What if someone takes more than their fair share of talismans?’ she asked.

‘The talismans are magicked; only one will be visible to each of you.’ Rollo’s grey eyes gleamed under his lantern. ‘We are not entirely without mercy.’

Torben stepped forward. ‘Very well, then I shall go first.’

The leader of the shieldmaidens arched an eyebrow at this. ‘Why should you have that honour?’ She faced off against him, her armour delicately chinking together, her sword strapped to her back. What could be seen of her golden hair was braided in sophisticated patterns and her expression was fierce.

Torben stood his ground. ‘I volunteered first.’

‘Just because you have the loudest voice does not mean the world should bend to your will,’ the shieldmaiden shot back.

Torben spluttered.

Saga glanced at Rollo to see if he would step in before someone drew their sword, but to her surprise, he looked rather entertained.

It began to snow. As the snowfall grew thicker, so did Saga’s nerves. She needed to complete this task; standing out in the snow wouldn’t save Afi. Before she lost her courage, she stepped forward.

‘I’ll go first.’

Rollo fixed his glittering stare on her. ‘Are you certain you don’t wish to walk away and live another day? Or will you stay to fight for the magic you need?’ His smirk was knowing. It gave Saga the fire she needed to compete.

Clenching her hands inside her mittens, she ignored the murmured disappointment and scowls from the other contestants who had wanted to be first, and held her head high.

‘I’m going to fight.’