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use the magic of the palace against you, but neither could you.”
    “He didn’t need magic, he’s twice my size.”
    “I never thought you’d leave the palace. I never thought anything could get in.” I was a fool.
    She stepped closer, as if drawn by the bleakness in his voice. “I thought you were dead, or seriously hurt,” she said quietly.
    “I had . . . help. From a friend. He has some healing powers. Enough to get me on my feet.”
    She bent forward, touched his fur. “I want warm water, please,” she said to the room. “And cloths.”
    “Astrid—”
    “Hush.” Her words were an echo of his own last night. “Let’s clean you up before you have to disappear. Will these wounds be on your real body, too?” She dipped a cloth into the basin of warm water which had appeared beside him, and squeezed it over a deep cut.
    “They are troll-made, I won’t be able to heal myself as easily as usual.” He hesitated. “I don’t know.”
    There was so much he didn’t know, but for now, feeling her hands gently stroking him was all he needed.
    “Well then, if they do, tonight, I will kiss them better,” she whispered.
    Bjorn closed his eyes, let his whole body relax. Please , he prayed to the deities. Let her truly be mine. Let me not be my father all over again.
    * * *
    “I think we should visit my parents.” Astrid rose up on an elbow, gently tracing the lines of Bjorn’s chest in the darkness.
    “You want to go home?” He spoke warily. “You can’t even step into the forest at the bottom of this mountain without being attacked.”
    “Exactly.” She’d spent the last five days since the troll attack thinking of nothing else. Of how she was unable to walk free, imprisoned here forever. “I do not want to spend the rest of my days trapped within.”
    “It . . . won’t be forever.” He hesitated as he spoke.
    “Well, how long then?” Could it really make such a difference if she knew how long? Did he trust her so little?
    “A year.”
    Her heart sank. Even a year trapped within the gloomy confines of a mountain seemed like a death sentence.
    “And this Norga? Will she stop trying to kill me now her troll is dead? Or will she try again?”
    “Oh, she’ll try again. She has everything to lose.” His voice was grim. In the dark, she imagined what his face must look like; serious, a frown creasing his brow.
    “Then let’s go. My mother knows something that can help us, I’m sure of it.”
    “What would your mother know of this?” Despite his words, he sounded relieved, and she realized he’d thought she meant to leave him, not seek out answers. And it struck her that leaving him had never entered her mind. All her thoughts, plans and ideas involved them both.
    “The night you first came knocking on the window, she told me she’d once seen a troll. It had killed a hag, and there was a small boy there, too.”
    His big hands shot out, gripped her shoulders, moving so fast he frightened her. At her cry of surprise, he let her go and fell back.
    “Tell me all she said.” There was an intensity to his voice, a wildness.
    “Nothing else. Except I was with her that day, but I was too young to remember it. My father made her stop the tale.”
    “Why? Why would he do that?”
    “He didn’t want her talking about it. It seemed to disturb him.”
    “If we go, we take the risk Norga will try to kill you on the way.” His words came slowly. Considering.
    “Whoever she is, will she not try to kill us both?” Why was he not worried for his own life?
    “Never mind that. Is the risk worth it?”
    “It is to me.”
    She had won him over. She could hear he was seriously considering the journey. But a new question niggled at her.
    If Norga did not want to kill him, then it was because she needed him or was bound by some oath not to. And once again he’d avoided her questions.
    His oath to his enchanter frustrated her beyond measure, but no matter what else lay between them, they opened