Fire in the Sky

by Erin Hunter

  I’ll be gone tomorrow, he thought. He gazed into her dark, laughing eyes and wished he could tell her the truth.

  “Well, good night,” she said. She headed toward the front flap and he followed her. Outside, they stopped and looked at each other awkwardly for a moment.

  “I’m going this way,” she said finally, crooking her thumb at the sleeping tent and smiling.

  “Right,” he said. “And me this way.” He pointed out at the oil rig.

  “See you tomorrow.” She waved and turned away.

  “Bye.” He watched her disappear into the sleeping tent. He wanted to run straight to Toklo and Kallik, but Craig was nearby, talking to someone in a firebeast, and Erica was outside the main tent, gathering snow in a bucket. He waved to both of them and started walking toward the oil rig.

  It was much colder now that night had fallen. A pale moon glowed overhead, lighting his path toward the gloomy tower out on the water. Ujurak glanced back several times until he saw that Craig and Erica had gone inside again. Not many people were still out and about. He figured he was far enough away that no one would notice him doubling back.

  He trotted in a wide circle around the tents, keeping an eye out for any people. He saw no signs of Toklo or Kallik either; hopefully they were waiting for him well out of sight.

  Ujurak snuck behind the tents and found a pair of big snow vehicles parked and empty. Both were unlocked. Carefully, he opened the first door and crawled inside. He rummaged through the stuff in the back, looking for tools that would help him free Lusa. Even if she decided not to come with him, he at least had to give her the choice to be saved.

  He found a long black stick, and when he pressed a button on the side, light poured out one end. Startled, Ujurak dropped it and had to search for it under the seat.

  Flashlight, he thought as he hefted it in his hands again. It was strange how he somehow knew the right word for it, and yet he’d been surprised by what it did. He hit the button one more time and the light went out. This could be useful, especially with the feeble human eyes he had to work with.

  He also found a pair of enormous clipperlike things with sharp edges. He turned them over, gently touching the blades to see how sharp they were. He was pretty sure Lusa’s cage had a lock on it that needed a key. But perhaps he could break it using something like this instead. He lifted the clippers and realized how heavy they were. He’d have to move carefully while he was carrying them.

  After that he waited, hiding inside the firebeast, until he was sure that everyone would be asleep. The moon was high in the sky, which was packed with glittering stars. His weak human body shivered as he climbed out into the freezing cold again. He couldn’t wait to have all his fur back.

  Snow crunched under his boots, no matter how lightly he tried to walk. But there was no sound from the sleeping tent, and all the lamps were off inside the main tent. Ujurak crept around to the front and ducked through the flap.

  A few of the animals stirred sleepily. It was very dark inside the tent, and Ujurak wished he had his bear’s eyes. He pulled out the flashlight he’d found inside the snow vehicle. He pointed it at the floor and hit the button, shading the light with his other hand.

  The tiny warm beam guided him between the cages and tables until he found Lusa’s cage. She woke up as he moved toward her and blinked blindly into the light.

  “Sorry,” Ujurak whispered, turning the light back down to the floor. “Lusa, it’s me. It’s Ujurak. You know me, right?” He remembered communicating with his bear friends in their own language the last time he was a human. But the growls and rumbles he needed felt buried farther down in his mind than before, and he didn’t have time to dredge them back up. He felt sure that Lusa would understand him even if he didn’t speak bear to her right now.

  Lusa hooked her claws in the side of the cage and gazed back at him with bright eyes. He reached through the bars and stroked her soft head. She nudged at his hand with her nose, then licked his fingers.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” he promised, scratching behind her ear. He crouched and studied the lock on her cage. As he’d expected, it required a key—he’d seen a ring of keys on Craig’s belt earlier, so he guessed that those opened most of the cages. But he hoped he could snap the lock off with the clippers.

  “Stand back,” he said to Lusa, waving his hands at her. She tilted her head again, then slowly took a few steps back until she was pressed against the far wall of the cage.

  Ujurak braced the clippers around the curved silver hoop of the lock. He leaned into the handles with all the force he could muster. Boy, a bear’s strength would be really useful right now!

  A long anxious moment passed as he grunted and strained. Suddenly there was a loud SNAP! and the lock broke in two. The heavy pieces went clattering to the floor with a noise that sounded deafening to Ujurak.

  “Quick!” he whispered, swinging the door open. “Lusa, hurry!”

  The little black cub darted out of the cage and gave him a grateful look. He started to lead the way out of the tent, then realized she had turned toward another cage.

  “What is it?” he whispered, hurrying back to her. She had her nose pressed to the bars. Inside, the old male polar bear was sound asleep.

  Ujurak was torn. If Lusa wanted him to rescue the old bear, he had to do it—but he was afraid that someone might have heard the noise of Lusa’s lock breaking. What if flat-faces were heading for the tent right now? He didn’t want to risk having to fight them off.

  Then Lusa sighed a little and turned away from the bear’s cage. She bumped Ujurak’s leg with her nose and padded away toward the entrance.

  Confused but relieved, Ujurak followed her. As they got to the door, he switched off the flashlight. Outside, the moon would be enough light for them, especially once he turned back into a bear.

  Ujurak slipped out of the tent first. He turned to hold the flap open for Lusa and then jumped as someone shone a flashlight into his face.

  “I knew it!” said Sally’s voice. Ujurak lifted his hands to try to block the light from his eyes. “I knew I saw you sneaking around. What are you doing?”

  “I, uh—” Ujurak started. Then Lusa nosed her way out of the tent and nearly crashed into him.

  Sally gasped and the light fell away from his face. “That’s the black bear!” she cried. “It got loose!”

  “Actually, I freed her,” Ujurak admitted. He could sense Lusa’s nervousness in the way she was shuffling her paws and making small noises deep in her throat. He reached down and rested his hand reassuringly on her head.

  In the moonlight, he saw Sally’s mouth drop open. “You’re crazy,” she said, taking a step back. “You can’t just—but she’s—how—”

  “Sally, this is Lusa,” Ujurak said. “She’s one of the friends I mentioned before.”

  Sally looked too thunderstruck to speak.

  Ujurak was about to go on, when suddenly a light came on in the sleeping tent. He heard voices calling to one another and clattering that he was sure came from those sticks that made animals go to sleep.

  “I’m sorry I can’t explain,” he said to Sally. “We have to go. Lusa, run!”

  He shoved Lusa toward the ice field where he hoped Toklo and Kallik were still waiting. She pelted past Sally and scrambled up the slope. Her small black body stood out against the snowy backdrop, lit up by the silver moon.

  Ujurak threw off his coat and shirt as he felt his body changing. His arms grew thicker and brown fur sprouted from his skin. His hands reached toward the ground, shifting into massive paws with thorn-sharp claws on the end. He shook off the work boots and pants as the last changes rippled through him. He was a bear once more.

  Sally had her hands pressed to her face. He dipped his head to her, feeling waves of regret washing through him, and then bolted after Lusa. Behind him, the voices turned into shouts, and he heard flat-faces running across the snow toward Sally.

  He dug his paws into the snow and ran faster
. Above him, he could feel the warm glow of his mother’s constellation gazing down at him. This was his path, and he would follow it where it led…now and forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Kallik

  Kallik bounded to her paws when she heard the commotion down by the pelt-den.

  “Something’s happening!” she barked.

  Toklo was already standing at the top of the slope, staring at the pelt-den. “I can’t tell what’s going on,” he said. “It’s too dark. There are shapes outside, but they could just be more flat-faces—or—” Suddenly he gasped. “I think I can see Lusa!”

  Kallik pressed up next to him. Her heart was pounding. Were Lusa and Ujurak all right? All she could see outside the pelt-den was a couple of shadowy figures that looked like flat-faces. Then she spotted a small blur of shadows next to one of them. That could be Lusa!

  “We should get down there,” Toklo growled, taking a step forward. “They need our help!”

  “Wait!” Kallik yelped. She shoved herself in his way. “Look!” The small blur separated from the other shadows and began running toward them. Kallik could tell right away from its funny rolling gait that it was Lusa. She was free!

  “Where’s Ujurak?” Toklo muttered fretfully. “Why isn’t he right behind her?”

  Then they saw one of the flat-faces start to change. His shadow grew bigger and bigger, and a moment later, a brown bear was dashing across the snow toward them, right on Lusa’s paws.

  “Over here!” Kallik shouted, leaping up on her hind legs and waving her paws. “We’re here! Lusa! Ujurak!”

  The two bears veered toward her, galloping up the incline. Kallik wanted to roar with joy when she saw Lusa’s face only a bearlength away. The black bear cub threw herself at Kallik, knocking her over into the snow, and they rolled happily for a moment.

  “I thought I’d never see you again!” Lusa cried.

  “Same to you!” Kallik said. “What are you doing, letting yourself get caught by no-claws?”

  “But they were nice,” Lusa protested. “They cleaned me up. See?” She spun in a circle, showing off her shining coat.

  Toklo snorted. “Only you would enjoy being caught by flat-faces.”

  “You’re just jealous,” Lusa teased, “because your pelt is still sticky and smelly. Maybe you should go down there and ask them to give you a bath, too.”

  “Not on your life!” Toklo growled. “No flat-face is putting its paws all over me!”

  Lusa bumped against him. “Well, I guess you don’t smell that bad.”

  He harrumphed and muttered grumpily. Lusa gave Kallik a twinkling glance, and Kallik sighed with relief. She hadn’t seen Lusa this awake since they’d been out on the ice. It was nice to have their cheerful little friend back to herself again. Kallik hoped it could last—she knew the longsleep was still waiting to take Lusa, and they were heading back into a world of hard journeys and food that disagreed with the black bear.

  Toklo sniffed Ujurak as he caught up. “You smell like flat-faces,” he said disapprovingly.

  “It’s nice to see you, too,” Ujurak joked.

  “We’d better run,” Toklo said. “Those flat-faces will be after you any moment now.”

  Ujurak shook his head. “Sally will stop them. I mean, she was pretty shocked, but—I think she understood.”

  “Sally?” Toklo grumbled. “What kind of name is that?”

  “Lusa,” Ujurak said urgently. “You can still go back if you want to.”

  Kallik stared at him. What was he talking about? Freeing Lusa was the whole point!

  “Why would I do that?” Lusa asked, equally puzzled.

  “They were planning to take you back to the mainland tomorrow,” Ujurak said. “I know…I mean, I know that’s what you wanted…before. If that’s still what you want—” He paused, looking despairing, then burst out, “But we need you, Lusa! We need you to come with us. I saw more signs—we can’t do this without you. All four of us have to be—”

  Lusa pressed her nose into his thick fur and he stopped. “It’s all right,” she said. “You’re right. We’re going together.” She gave Toklo a significant look. “No matter what happens. This is our destiny.”

  Kallik glanced at Toklo, expecting him to argue. But the big brown bear just ducked his head and glared at the ice under his paws. Ujurak looked at him, too, and then let out his breath in a long sigh.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “It won’t be long now. I can feel it. Our journey will be over soon, I promise.”

  “Well, let’s get a move on, then,” Toklo growled, glancing at the pelt-den below them. More lights had come on and flat-faces were milling about outside, but it looked as if Ujurak was right. None of them had come after the bears.

  Kallik took the lead as the bears turned their back on the flat-faces and began to run. She could feel her friends’ fur brushing against her on either side—white and black and brown together. And as they ran, Kallik felt another bear running with them, huge and weightless, her paws skimming the ice. She turned and saw how Ujurak’s eyes were shining, and she knew he felt his mother’s presence, too.

  Together, the bears ran through the darkness, heading toward the line of gold where the sun was just starting to rise.

  Coming Soon from Erin Hunter

  LOOK FOR

  SEEKERS

  BOOK SIX

  SPIRITS IN THE STARS

  Kallik

  A glimmer of satisfaction crept through Kallik as she and her friends returned to the frozen sea. They don’t understand this place. I have to look after them.

  She had grown used to being the leader, the one who took charge of hunting and finding good places to sleep.

  Now she was focused, intent on keeping their little group together as she scanned the sky for the lights that showed the presence of the spirits. But there were no lights. Their absence was a pain clawing deep into Kallik’s heart.

  Where are you, Nisa? Have you abandoned us?

  “I’m so hungry!” Lusa exclaimed.

  “I’m starving, too,” Toklo grumbled.

  “Kallik, can you find a seal hole?” Ujurak asked. His tone was edgy and his claws scraped impatiently on the ice.

  “I’ll do my best,” she promised.

  The other three kept walking while Kallik cast back and forth on either side. Eventually she spotted the dark patch of the seal’s breathing hole.

  “Over here!” she called to her friends. “You wait there; I’ll do the catching.”

  Kallik crouched down at the edge of the hole, making sure that her shadow didn’t fall across it, and made herself comfortable for the long wait. She was hardly settled when she realized there was something strange about this hole.

  There’s no fresh scent!

  The only scent of seal was faint and stale, as if none of the creatures had been there for a long time.

  That’s odd.

  The moments dragged by as Kallik waited beside the neat black circle. There was no sign of movement in the water, and no scent of seal. Now and again she cast a glance toward her friends, who were clustered a few bear-lengths away. Lusa and Toklo were talking together quietly; Kallik could read impatience in the twitching of their ears and the scrape of their claws on the ice.

  Ujurak sat a little way away from them, his muzzle raised and his gaze scanning the sky. It was full daylight now, and the sun shone down, gleaming on the surface of the ice. Kallik longed for the night, when she would be able to see the Pathway Star, and maybe the spirits would return to guide them.

  She made herself concentrate on the seal hole again, alert for the first swirling of the water that would herald the appearance of a seal. But everything was quiet. At last, in growing desperation, she peered down into the hole to see if she could spot moving shapes in the water. But she saw nothing except the shadows in the ocean.

  “Kallik!” Ujurak’s voice cut through her concentration. “We have to keep moving.”

  Kallik’s first ins
tinct was to protest, to beg for a little more time. But she admitted to herself that however long she waited, there wouldn’t be a seal for her to catch from this hole.

  “Okay, coming,” she replied, heaving herself to her paws and flexing stiff muscles.

  Returning to her friends, she saw how anxious Ujurak was looking, though he said nothing, allowing her to take the lead as they set off once more across the ice.

  He angled his ears toward a smudge on the distant horizon. Kallik felt more hopeful at the sight, and all the bears seemed to find new energy now that they had something to aim for. Their pace quickened.

  As she bounded along, Kallik could hear sounds that she hadn’t heard for a long time: lapping water and the high-pitched creak of thin ice.

  We’re getting close to land again. Or is the ice melting? A sharp pang of foreboding stabbed through her like a walrus tusk at the thought of being cut off from land. Picking up Ujurak’s urgency, she ran even faster. A low ice ridge blocked their path; she pushed upward with powerful hind legs, springing easily to the top.

  Only a few pawlengths ahead, the ice vanished. A wide channel had been gouged through it. It was about the width of one of the no-claws’ water-beasts, and the stink of burning oil fumes still hung about it, making Kallik gag.

  “Stop!” Kallik froze as she barked out the warning. “Danger!”

  Her friends scampered past her, bounding up to the very edge of the channel and peering curiously into the water. Kallik stayed where she was, her paws turned to stone. The channel reminded her too much of the place where she and Taqqiq had crossed, where Nisa had given up her life.

  Toklo was balanced on the very edge of the ice. “We’ll have to swim,” he announced. “It’s not as wide as the Great River we crossed before Smoke Mountain. It won’t take long.”

  “No!” Kallik choked out the word. “We can’t. It’s not safe.”

  Toklo narrowed his eyes at her. “Not safe how?”

  Kallik swallowed. “Orca,” she whispered. She stared down at her paws, struggling with terror.