As we began to run out of objects to name, I pulled Tuki over to a stool and had him sit beside me.

"Is Tuki happy?" I asked. I thought he might remember the word, which I had taught him back at the castle. But he did not, so I pantomimed happy as best I could.

He suddenly began nodding emphatically and pointed to me. "Happy."

I thought I understood him to say he was happy to be with me, although he could have meant he thought I was happy. And I remembered the frustration I had felt in trying to communicate with Tuki in the castle. Suddenly I thought of Malmo's story knife.

Again using pantomime and words, I told him that I must get back to work and that he should leave. But I asked him to come back the next night, and eagerly he agreed.

I worked quickly, to make up for the time I'd spent with Tuki. I fell asleep that night trying to figure out what I could use with the story knife instead of snow.

The next night I was ready for Tuki. I had managed to sneak a small sack of white sugar out of the kitchen, right under the nose of the terrible Simka, though she did manage to land a sharp kick to my shin as I ran out. Before Tuki arrived I spread the sugar evenly on the floor in a corner of the room.

When he came in I promptly led him to the sugar-covered floor and bade him sit beside me. I took out the story knife. He jumped up, thinking it a weapon, but I smiled reassuringly and urged him to sit down again. Warily he did, and I started sketching.

I began with a short, simple tale, the one Malmo had first told me about the girl adopted by seals. I think Tuki understood most of it, and when I had finished, he clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"More!" he said, in Njorden.

I told him another story, then another. Finally, I again had to tell him to go so I could catch up on my work. I said there would be more stories the next night. He went, even more reluctantly than he had the night before. I swept up the sugar and hid the bag of it under some fabric.

I did not get much sleep that night, for I had to work very late to get the allotted amount of work done.

The next night I told Tuki one brief tale to start out with. Then I turned to him and said that I had an important story to tell him. It was about me, I said, and why I had come to the ice palace. I don't know if he understood, but he nodded very solemnly and made ready to watch the figures I would draw.

I took a deep breath, and using the story knife, I told Tuki my story from the very beginning, when the white bear first came to our door, to the time I spent in the castle with the white bear—man lying beside me in the bed; from the candle wax dripping on his shirt to my long and perilous search for him. I did not go into detail about my journey, just showed myself crossing land, sea, and snow to reach the ice palace. I then drew the Troll Queen and the white bear—man hand in hand, as though being wed, and myself bending over, weeping.

I looked up at Tuki, who had been silent throughout the entire tale, his eyes round and intent, and saw that there were tears streaming down his ridged cheeks.

"The softskin man who was a white bear must not marry the Troll Queen," I said, my voice hoarse from the telling of the tale. "Will you help me, Tuki?"

He stared at me, tears still wet on his skin.

"Will Tuki help Rose?" I said again, my own eyes bright.

Slowly he nodded.

Troll Queen

URDA HAS ASKED a favor of me.

I am inclined to grant it. It is easy enough to do, and on the whole I believe the benefit outweighs any small risk.

She says that her son, Tuki, has come to admire my Myk and is eager to serve him.

I see no harm in allowing Tuki to be an aide or companion to Myk. Myk will be agreeable, I am sure, for he has a soft nature and will be patient with Tuki's childish ways. And Urda will be less inclined to complain about those long years of exile and the damage she feels it did to Tuki.

The only concern I feel is the possibility that Tuki was contaminated by his exposure to the girl in the castle, the one who raised Myk's hopes and then betrayed him. If Tuki became attached to her in some way, he might speak of her to Myk. I do not think there is anything now that would stir Myk's memory—the rauha slank is too powerful for that to happen—but such a slipup may trigger a nightmare. (I still do not know why the slank does not eliminate those occasional nightmares. It is irksome.)

I have therefore mandated that Tuki may serve Myk, but only if he agrees never to speak to Myk of the castle or of what transpired there. Urda has been told that if Tuki disobeys this order, he will immediately be put to death.

I will inform Myk of the new arrangements this evening.

Rose

MY PLAN WAS WORKING—so far anyway.

Thanks to his mother, Urda, Tuki had been appointed as a sort of companion to "Myk." When the Troll Queen was a child, Urda was her nursemaid—and since then the older woman had continued to hold a position of trust to the queen.

Tuki learned that Myk had a large cup of slank each night before bedtime. For a week Tuki had managed to substitute plain slank for the kind with the powder. I have some idea he switched his own slank, unpowdered, for Myk's, which he poured away. Tuki had also contrived to smuggle in several bundles of clothing that were crucial to my plan. And in between orders for dresses, I sneaked in time to do my own sewing.

There were only a handful of days until the wedding.

White Bear

I AM GLAD MY QUEEN assigned the troll Tuki as companion to me during these days before the wedding. I like him very much. He listens while I practice my flauto, and I see tears come into his bright, eager eyes when I play. And he nearly falls off his chair clapping when I finish. If the other trolls like my music even half as much, I shall consider my performance a great success.

He is good company, too. He likes to play games, especially a game in which I teach him words of my old language by pointing to things and saying the word, and then he tells me the troll word for each. I have learned much of the troll language from my queen, but Tuki has helped me learn even more. I want to assist my queen in any way I can when I rule at her side, and she is well pleased at my interest in the language of her people.

I have been feeling somewhat odd of late. Not ill or unhappy. Just a little different, like my sight is clearer, or my thoughts. Or perhaps it is that I feel more awake; I certainly rise in the morning feeling more alert. I can't quite figure it out, but I am glad of it.

I have even had brief memories of the time before I came to the ice palace. Even before I became a white bear. They are fleeting but pleasant.

Just today I recalled being a child and playing on a field of the greenest grass, with many bright yellow flowers poking through the green. There were other children and we were all laughing together at something. It was very enjoyable, the memory.

I have not told my queen because she does not care for mention of the past. And I do not wish to upset her, especially when she is so busy preparing for our future happiness.

Rose

TUKI MANAGED TO smuggle some of the plain slank to me, which was wonderful. Despite my increased status as seamstress and weaver, I still received only the most meager of meals, presumably because most of my nutrition should have come from the doctored slank, which I continued to pour away. (The hole under my bed had grown quite large.) I was becoming painfully thin and worried the trolls would notice. They never did, though. Softskins were viewed as a herd, not worth taking note of individually. Our function was to provide service to the trolls until our bodies wore out. Then we were replaced.