“No, my child, any attempt to reach the castle is doomed to fail. It is best for you to stay here. It is what the bear would have wanted.”
Promise me you will not try. “He didn’t mean it!” If you love me, let me go. “He doesn’t want to be a troll prisoner. He wants to be with me!” She was surprised at the strength of her conviction. When push came to shove, she did believe he loved her. The realization took her breath away.
“Sometimes bad things happen to good people.” Father Forest ladled stew into a bowl. He carried it to Cassie and commanded the floor to raise him up until his face was even with hers. The smell of the stew filled her head. Betraying her, her stomach cried. “Everything will work out for the best,” Father Forest said. “You will see.” He lifted a spoonful to her lips. “Open up, now. You need to keep your strength up.” Saliva flooded her tongue. “Come on,” he said. “For the baby.”
Cassie spat in his face.
Father Forest wiped his eyes. “Foolish child. This is for your own good.”
“I hope you have a forest fire,” she said. She would not let him see her fear.
“You will stay up there until you understand.” At the flick of his hand, the floor lowered him down and the vines jerked her arms. She bit back a scream. He turned his back on her and emptied the stew back into the pot.
Tears pricked her eyes as her arms ached. She blinked her eyes clear.
“Someday,” he said, “you will thank me.”
And he left her alone.
Cassie wet herself during the sunlit night. She felt the warmth run down her thighs and pool at her knees, where the vines were a tight ring. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to think about anything but where she was. She thought of the station. Dad, Gram, Max… She’d always assumed that if she had a child, they’d be there with her. She pictured herself as a little kid, surrounded by scientists and snowmobiles. She’d been so lucky.
In the morning, she watched Father Forest putter in the kitchen, fixing himself breakfast. She hoped his eggs tasted like urine. But when he brought her some, she ate it. “There’s a good girl,” he clucked. He poured water into her mouth. Most of it spilled down her neck and seeped in between the vines. “Are you ready to cooperate?”
“I don’t want to starve before I rescue Bear,” she said.
He frowned at her. “Perhaps in another day, you will feel differently.”
“Don’t count on it.”
He left her again, and she hung from the ceiling for the rest of the day. It was hard, harder than she ever could have imagined, to not despair. She thought of her mother, prisoner of the trolls for eighteen years. No wonder Gail had nightmares. The wonder was that she had survived as sane as she was.
Father Forest returned in the evening. She heard the door open behind her. She couldn’t move to see him.
“You are evil,” she said flatly.
“Not true, my child. I have your interests at heart.” On his command, the vines loosened. Cassie collapsed to the floor. Her cheek pressed against the wood. She tried to remember how her muscles worked. She heard the munaqsri kneel beside her. “It hurts me to see you like this,” he said. “Please, be sensible. Cooperate, and your stay here will be pleasant. You will be my guest.”
Arms shaking, she pushed herself up. She reeked, and her thighs felt sticky. Blood rushed into her stiff fingers. Her eyes met Father Forest’s.
He had tears in his eyes. “I am not a cruel man,” he said. “All I want is what is best for you and your baby. Please, do not fight me. I am not your enemy.”
In a burst, Cassie scrambled for the door. Her legs failed her. She threw herself at the doorway, and then the vines snapped her back, like a dog on a leash. She sank back to the ground.
Vines lashed her to the floor. Clucking his tongue, Father Forest said, “Another day then.” He stepped over her. She heard the bedroom door open and shut.
Alone, tied to the floor, she watched the shadows from the shutters move across the floor. “Oh, Bear,” she whispered. How could she rescue him now? Who would rescue her? If she were in these vines for another day, she thought she would lose her mind. Anything else she could have endured—any pain, any challenge—but not this horrible helplessness. “I’m sorry.”
She had to be free of the vines.
A small voice inside her whispered that once she was free, she could earn Father Forest’s trust, lull him into complacency, and escape when he least expected it. She tried to convince herself it was a plan, not an excuse.
It felt like she was betraying her husband, betraying her father, and, most of all, betraying her mother. It made her sick to think about it. But her joints hurt, and her muscles burned.
She heard Father Forest enter the kitchen. He stepped over her to put the kettle on the stove.
“Fine,” she croaked. “You win.”
He beamed like a cartoon character. “Release.”
The vines retracted, and this time, Cassie did not run. She lay silently on the floor, telling herself it was part of the plan, but feeling like crying.
CHAPTER 24
Latitude 63° 54’ 53” N
Longitude 125° 24’ 07” W
Altitude 1301 ft.
Cassie bit the inside of her cheek so hard that she tasted blood. Meek, she thought, concentrating. Beaten. Using sheer willpower, she lowered her eyes. She could have seared a hole in the wood floor with her stare.
Father Forest beamed. “Good girl.”
How could anyone think Bear was a monster? Father Forest was a true monster.
He handed her a broom. She took it, wanting to snap it over her knee. Last night, after her surrender, he had simply fed her and let her sleep. But this morning, he’d greeted her with instructions. Become a good mother, he had said. Be the woman that Bear would have wanted her to be.
He was wrong. Bear loved her for who she was. She wouldn’t let this gnome poison her mind. She may have doubted Bear once, but never again.
Half her height, Father Forest could not pat her on the head, so he patted her on the elbow. She gripped the broom handle with white knuckles. Just until he’s lulled, she told herself. After she’d fooled him into thinking he’d won, she’d escape.
“Set a good example for your little one,” he said.
He went out into his garden of ferns. For an instant, sunlight flooded the kitchen. She saw dust hanging in sunbeams. Then the door shut like a cell door. Her insides screamed. She wanted Bear now.
Follow the plan, she told herself. Cassie swept viciously. She pounded at the floor with the broom bristles. Dust plumed around her. Cassie whacked at cobwebs. “Die, die, die!”
In the doorway, Father Forest sneezed.
Cassie froze midswing.
“Energetic,” he said dryly.
The broom fell out of her hands. It clattered to the floor. Both of them looked at it. Maybe “meek” wasn’t her forte. She swallowed and then plastered a smile on her face. She’d be free soon, she promised herself.
Three nights later, while midnight sun leaked through the shutters, Cassie inched across the bedroom. She saw the outline of her pack. Kneeling beside it, she placed her mukluks inside and packed it all down hard. She could not afford a single sound. Slowly and silently, she lifted the pack and settled it onto her shoulders. She slipped out the bedroom door.
Listening, she stood in the shadowed kitchen like a deer on alert. Her heart thumped in her throat. To her ears, her breathing sounded like a wind tunnel. Father Forest snored.
Barefoot, Cassie crept across the kitchen. She watched for coils of vines. Like sleeping snakes under the cabinets and chairs, the vines were quiescent. She put her hand on the doorknob.
Without warning, wood encased her hand. Biting back a scream, Cassie tugged. Bark spread. It grew over her wrist. She hit it with her free hand. It spread up her forearm. She pried with her fingers. It covered her elbow. Father Forest kept snoring.