Once Upon A Bear First Chapter Sample
The leaves rustled in the forest beside her, and Guinevere’s heart stopped. Was it the bear?
Whatever was making that noise was far bigger than the usual squirrel or rabbit, or even a deer.
She peered through the undergrowth, her eyes searching for the brown fur that she’d only glimpsed once or twice, even though she’d been searching for it for almost a year.
That was how long it had been since she’d heard about the unusual bear in the woods near Eldenwilde, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it was a bear who needed her help.
They didn’t get unusual bears very often in the Northlands–or regular bears, for that matter.
After a moment of listening, she continued on. She was bringing a tincture to Linnea and Thea to give to one of their customers, and she didn’t want to be late.
It had been a few restless nights recently, and she wanted to be home and in bed well before dark so she could hopefully get a little more sleep.
Her dreams had been haunted by glimpses of brown fur and a feeling that if she didn’t help him, something would go terribly wrong.
But for now, she was making her way to town, and there was a swing in her step and cheer in her heart. She was going to take advantage of her trip into town and get a muffin at the café…or maybe a cinnamon roll.
She mulled over her options as she kept walking. None of the choices were bad ones. Thea and Linnea were both excellent bakers, and any day she could stop at the Cozy Cat Café and treat herself was a good one.
The trees thinned out in front of her, and she slowed her steps. If the bear was around, she didn’t want to spook it.
But then she glanced to her left, and her heart jumped into her throat, because there he was—the elusive bear—standing there staring at her, as if he hoped that if he were still enough, she wouldn’t notice him.
Perhaps she had surprised him just as much as he had surprised her.
“Hello,” she said quietly, taking a step closer to him.
His eyes were haunted.
The bear let out a quiet snort, so quiet she almost missed it.
“I want to help you,” she said quietly, taking another step. “Will you let me help you?”
The bear let out a huff before saying, “As if anyone can help me,” turning and running away, crashing through the brush.
To someone who didn’t have the magical ability to understand animals, it would have sounded only like a bear’s roar, but she understood every word. And something about those words were distinctly human, despite the form he appeared in, and the fact that they were spoken in the bear’s language.
If anything, this encounter had only confirmed her suspicion.
The bear was actually a human, and he needed her help.
***
“You what?” Linnea shrieked as Guinevere recounted her early morning experience. “Why would you try to talk to a bear?”
Guinevere shot a glance meaningfully at Nathaniel, the café owner’s husband. “I don’t suppose we know anyone who has turned into an animal before,” she said.
Linnea’s eyes widened. “Oh. You think he’s that kind of animal?”
“I don’t know,” Guinevere said with a shrug, “but I think probably there’s something about him that is far too much like a human and not a bear. Most bears wouldn’t have spoken in words like that, or sounded nearly so wistful.”
Linnea slid into the chair across from her with a squeal, setting down the teapot she held in her hands and leaning across the table conspiratorially. “So what does this mean?”
“It means I have to help him–I just have to figure out how. It’s not as if I can rub a salve on him and make it all better.”
Linnea grinned at the reference to the time they had been forced to lather Conrad with a magical salve while he was delirious after a bad reaction to something.
“It fixed him,” Linnea pointed out. “You never know.”
“I would need gallons of salves to try to cover a bear. Even if I had the ingredients for that, I certainly don’t have the equipment to make that much, and I don’t think a salve is the key here. I think I’ll have to find some other way. Probably a potion,” she said, thinking of what had worked for Lord Alexander. After a moment, she sighed. Making potions was much more complicated than a magically infused salve.
It would do her no good to make a potion designed to unlock his tongue the way she had for Alexander if the curse were tied to his feet, for example…and he seemed perfectly able to speak.
But before she could figure out how to make the proper potion, she had to figure out what was wrong with the bear exactly–and knowing who he was would be the place to start.
She had her suspicions…she had for a while. But she needed to know for sure before she could help.
“I wonder if your friend’s husband might have any ideas,” Linnea said quietly, staring into Guinevere’s eyes until she understood the meaning.
Alexander might actually be able to lend a hand to her mission.
Lord Gideon Rendon had been acting oddly for at least the past year, and if she was right about it being him, maybe Beatrice and Alexander would be able to help her.
Because an illegal magic user had no place waltzing up to a noble and asking if he occasionally turned into a bear.
***
Guinevere made her way to Eldenwilde with a few of Beatrice’s favorite pastries in hand. She might as well bribe her into sharing everything she knew.
She slipped in through the kitchen, exchanging pleasantries with the cook and the other staff. “Where’s Lady Beatrice?” she asked.
Even though she was no longer working as Beatrice’s lady’s maid, everyone knew that she and Beatrice were friends.
“I believe she’s in Lord Alexander’s study with him,” the housekeeper said as she hurried by.
“Thank you,” Guinevere called over her shoulder as she made her way toward the study, knocking loudly for a moment.
It was best not to surprise Alexander and Beatrice if one didn’t want to catch them kissing.
After giving them a moment to stop anything they might have been doing, she let herself in. As she expected. Beatrice was sitting next to her husband, her hair mussed and a bright pink on her cheeks.
“Hello Guinevere,” Alexander said, his tone dry. “Nice of you to let yourself in.”
“It is, I’m sure,” she said brightly as she approached with a muffin in her open hand. “I brought a peace offering.”
No one could resist a muffin from the café. If Guinevere didn’t know better, she would think that perhaps Thea was infusing them with magic to make them irresistible.
“I have a question,” she said, sitting next to Beatrice and flopping backward into the comfortable support of the couch. “I believe you two are alone?”
“We are,” Alexander said, getting to his feet. “I’ll let the two of you chat.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind you staying,” Guinevere said, so Alexander took a seat behind his desk and surveyed Guinevere with a look that might have made her quiver in fear if he were still her employer.
But she knew that underneath his stern exterior was a man full of softness who was absolutely in love with his wife and unwilling to hurt a flea.
“How can we help?” Alexander asked.
Guinevere aimed her gaze in his direction. He was more likely to know what she was talking about. “Have you heard about the bear?”
“The bear?” Alexander frowned, running his hands through his hair as he leaned back in the chair. “You mean the bear that keeps being spotted around our land and has half of my people scared to leave their homes?”
“That’s the one,” Guinevere said.
“What do you know about the bear?” Beatrice asked, her keen eyes far too perceptive.
“I think he might be a human under a curse,” Guinevere said simply.
Alexander’s jaw clenched, and he turned to look at his wife.
“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Guinevere said, “but I have my suspicions about who it might be, and I was wondering if you had any insight for me, since I know you’ve probably seen him more than I have.”
“Who?” Beatrice asked.
“Gideon Rendon,” Guinevere said.
The husband and wife turned to each other, speaking a silent language she would never understand before Alexander nodded.
“It’s possible,” he said. “I know Kellan was telling me how Gideon keeps disappearing, and how frustrating it was that he was unable to help his brother.”
“I know,” Guinevere said quietly. She’d heard the same rumors, that Gideon Rendon was too flighty and disappeared frequently. If it was founded, she could understand the frustration, but more than a small part of her was convinced it was because he was turning into a bear—and if she had to guess, it wasn’t voluntary.
“Sophia was telling me the same thing,” Beatrice said thoughtfully.
“So you think it’s possible?”
“I do,” Beatrice said. “I’m not sure what you’re going to do about it, though.”
Guinevere grinned as she got to her feet, leaving the parcel of pastries with Beatrice.
“I’m going to do what I do best: I’m going to meddle.”
Beatrice’s laughter followed her as she left the study. How exactly she was going to meddle, she wasn’t sure—but she had no doubt that it was going to be necessary.
***
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