by Erin Hunter
Aiyanna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Oh yes,” she murmured. “Very.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kallik
Kallik scanned the shoreline, straining to catch a glimpse of white fur. Beside her, Shila sniffed the air, while Tonraq stalked around the rocks, nose twitching.
“I know you’re there somewhere!” he called.
A stifled huff sounded from the stones ahead.
Kissimi was hiding, and Kallik, Shila, and Tonraq were playing “hunter,” trying to catch him before he could dodge around them and touch the home rock a few bearlengths behind.
Yakone was sprawled on a boulder, his eyes half-closed as the sun sank toward the hilltops. He seemed to be relishing the early evening coolness, a relief after the long, hot day.
Taqqiq sauntered toward them. “Aren’t you too old for this?” he grunted.
Kallik glanced at him, wondering if her brother was talking to her, but his gaze was on Shila.
Shila ignored him. She crept between the rocks, signaling to Tonraq with a jerk of her snout. As Tonraq veered toward her, Kallik saw a flash of white fur, then heard a splash. Kissimi was in the shallows, running fast. Cutting across the water, he raced for the home stone.
Kallik spun around. “Shila, I see prey!” She raced toward the stone, but Kissimi was moving swiftly, sending up spray as he dashed through the water. With a bark of delight he dove for the rock, his paws touching it before Kallik.
Kissimi lifted his chin. “I won!”
Tonraq and Shila climbed over the rocks toward him.
Tonraq was panting. “Well done!”
“Who’s going to hide next?” Kissimi asked, his eyes shining.
Shila inclined her head toward Taqqiq. “He is.”
Taqqiq grunted. “It’s a cub’s game.”
“So what?” Shila tossed her head. “There’s nothing wrong with acting like a cub from time to time.”
Taqqiq glanced over his shoulder. The other white bears were farther along the shore, where the crags gave way to smoother stone. “Okay.” He padded toward the home stone.
Kallik called to Yakone. “Why don’t you play, too?”
Yakone lifted his head. “No, thanks.”
“Are you worried about acting like a cub?” Kallik asked.
Yakone held up his scarred paw. Even from here, she could see the gap left by his missing toes. “I don’t think I’d be very nimble on rocks,” he grunted. “My grip’s not what it used to be.”
Kallik felt a flicker of frustration but didn’t argue. Was Yakone always going to believe that his injured paw meant he wasn’t as good as other bears? She’d speak to him later, when they were alone.
“I’ll hide,” Taqqiq announced. “Turn your backs.”
Kallik turned away and listened to her brother’s paws scuffing the rocks. She glanced at Shila. “Do you think he’s had long enough to hide?”
Kissimi answered. “He’s had ages!”
Kallik scanned the rocks. There was no sign of Taqqiq. She nodded to Yakone. “Did you see which way he went?”
Yakone’s eyes gleamed. “I’m not helping you cheat!”
Kallik began to clamber over the craggy boulders. Pale fur moved in the distance, where forest reached all the way down to the water. Iqaluk and Salik were padding out of the trees. Kallik halted. From the direction they were coming, they’d see Taqqiq first. She crept farther along the rocks, watching them. Had Taqqiq hidden so well that they couldn’t see him?
Shila’s pawsteps brushed the rock beside her. “Do you think they’ll give him away?”
“That’s not fair!” Kissimi caught up to them. He’d seen Iqaluk and Salik, too. “They’re not supposed to be looking for Taqqiq. It’s not their game.”
“Perhaps they won’t spot him.” As Kallik spoke, she saw Salik’s muzzle jerk toward a tall pointed rock.
“What are you doing, Taqqiq?” Salik’s bark echoed along the shore.
Kissimi hurried toward Taqqiq’s hiding place. Kallik followed with Shila. As they skidded around the pointed rock, they found Taqqiq looking ruffled and unhappy.
Kissimi shook his head sympathetically at Taqqiq. “It doesn’t count,” he told him. “Salik’s not playing. It only counts if we find you.”
Salik barked with amusement. “Are you playing cub games?” His eyes glinted with spite.
“Poor Taqqiq,” Iqaluk growled. “Won’t the grown-up bears play with you?”
Shila narrowed her eyes. “We were playing with him, and we’re plenty grown up. We would ask you to join us, but we don’t want the game turning as sour as your faces.”
Kallik waited for Salik or Iqaluk to snap back, but they lowered their gazes. Shila had won this time. Pride warmed Kallik’s pelt.
Taqqiq was watching Shila proudly. “Come on, Kissimi.” He lifted his chin. “Let’s find a really good hiding place. One that Kallik and Shila would never find.”
Shila tipped her head toward Salik. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and catch some fish? There are she-bears with cubs who haven’t had a chance to hunt all day.” Her gaze flicked to Iqaluk.
“I guess we could go fishing,” Iqaluk muttered.
Salik shrugged. “I suppose.” He headed toward the water and waded in. Iqaluk followed.
As they plunged beneath the surface, Kallik chuffed with amusement. “You certainly know how to deal with them.”
“It doesn’t always work,” Shila confessed. “But I don’t take any nonsense. They’re no better than overgrown cubs.”
Kallik thought of the loving way Taqqiq had gazed at the she-bear. “My brother is fond of you.”
“I’m fond of him,” Shila answered matter-of-factly.
“Do you plan to have cubs one day?”
Shila’s eyes sparkled. “If the spirits bless us.” She nodded toward Yakone, still drowsing on the rock. “What about you? Will you and Yakone have cubs?”
Kallik’s heart warmed as she followed Shila’s gaze. Yakone was a handsome bear, even when he was sleeping with one paw dangling from the rock. “One day.”
“Kallik! Shila!” Illa’s bark sounded across the rocks.
Kallik turned. Taqqiq and Kissimi were standing beside the she-bear.
“Anarteq’s going to tell a story!” Illa called.
Kallik crunched over the stones toward her. She loved hearing about the ancient days when the land belonged to the bears alone. Siqiniq told the stories at the last gathering, she thought sadly. Siqiniq was the gentle old she-bear who had led the Longest Day ceremony. She had died a few moons ago. At this gathering, she would be among the spirits.
Anarteq was sitting on a large boulder. Age showed in his yellow-tinged fur, and as Kallik approached, she saw that his eyes were faded, as though he were staring at a distant landscape.
“A long, long time ago,” Anarteq began, “before bears walked the earth, a frozen sea shattered into pieces, scattering tiny scraps of ice across the darkness of the sky.”
Yakone caught up to Kallik as she sat down between Illa and Qanniq. He squeezed in beside her, his flank warm. Kissimi wriggled between them and looked up at Kallik. “Is this the story about Silaluk?” he whispered.
“Yes.” Kallik nuzzled his head fondly.
Anarteq went on. “When you look at the sky, you can see a pattern of the stars in the Great Bear, Silaluk. She is running around and around the Pathway Star. It is snow-sky and she is hunting.”
Kallik glanced at Taqqiq. He sat beside Shila, listening intently. Their mother Nisa had told them this story when they were cubs. Kallik wondered if Taqqiq was remembering those long-ago days in the snow-den.
“With her quick, powerful claws, she hunts seals and beluga whales. She is the greatest of all the hunters on the ice.” Anarteq paused for a moment. “But then the ice melts. Silaluk can’t hunt anymore. She gets hungrier and hungrier, but she has to keep running because three hunters pursue her: Robin, Chickadee, and Moose Bird. They chase her for
many moons, all through the warm days, until the end of burn-sky. Then, as the warmth begins to leave the earth, they finally catch up to her.”
Anarteq’s growl grew dark. “The hunters gather around Silaluk and strike the fatal blow with their spears. The heart’s blood of the Great Bear falls to the ground, and everywhere it falls, the leaves on the trees turn red and yellow.”
Kallik shivered, just as she had done when she was a cub listening to her mother.
Anarteq went on. “But then snow-sky returns, bringing back the ice. Silaluk is reborn and the ice-hunt begins all over again, season after season.”
“Tell us more!” Qanniq called.
“Yes!” Kunik, an old male, barked from the other side of the circle. “Another story!”
Anarteq sat back on his haunches, resting his forepaws on his wide belly. “I remember my first hunt,” he began. “My mother and I stalked across the ice for a whole day. Each time we passed a seal hole, I begged my mother to let me dive in and catch a seal, but each time, she would tell me, ‘We are catching something better than seals.’ We kept walking until my belly was growling as loud as the Great Bear herself. Yet again, I begged my mother to let me catch a seal, but she was staring at a great brown shape on the ice.
“I could hardly believe my eyes. What was a brown bear doing on the ice? But when I asked my mother, she cuffed me around the ear. ‘That’s not a brown bear, cloud-brain. That’s a walrus!’”
“You mistook a walrus for a brown bear!” Taqqiq’s eyes shone with amusement.
“We were all young and foolish once,” Yakone grunted.
“There’s only one thing a brown bear would do on the ice,” joked Kotori, a large male. “Start an argument with a seal!”
The white bears murmured in agreement, but Kallik bristled. Not all brown bears were argumentative. Toklo had been on the ice, and he had been brave and kind and wise.
Qanniq dipped her head to Anarteq. “Thank you for your stories.” She blinked hopefully at him. “Will you lead the Longest Day ceremonies now that Siqiniq has gone?”
Anarteq shook his head. “I am too old. You should choose a younger bear. One who will return next suncircle to lead the ceremony.”
“He’s right,” Yakone grunted. “But how will we decide?”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Kallik scanned her companions. Would they quarrel over the leadership like the brown bears? Kallik saw Kotori’s eyes flash and noticed Qanniq leaning forward. Were they hoping to lead the ceremonies?
“Shouldn’t the wisest bear be chosen?” she suggested.
“What makes a bear wise?” Anarteq countered.
“Experience!” Kunik called out.
“Cleverness,” Tonraq barked.
Salik snorted. “A leader doesn’t need to be clever, they need to be strong.” He reared onto his hind legs.
Iqaluk slapped his forepaw on a rock. “Salik is the strongest bear!”
Yakone rolled his eyes. “We want to honor the spirits, not fight them!”
Kotori nodded. “We need a bear who can think further than the next brawl.”
Illa stepped forward. “We need a bear who understands the importance of the lake. One who knows how every white bear has to struggle to survive the long hungry moons of burn-sky.”
“If only our ancestors were here to guide us.” Anarteq looked up. Darkness was turning the sky indigo. Stars sparkled faintly, but there was no sign of the white bears’ ancestors. The glowing light that rippled across the sky couldn’t be seen here. Kallik wondered why their ancestors didn’t make the journey to the Great Bear Lake with them.
Shila jerked her muzzle impatiently. “We can talk until the ice returns. We must do something to decide.”
Anarteq stared at her. “Do what?”
“Let’s test ourselves,” Shila suggested.
Salik pricked his ears. “How?”
“We want a bear who is wise, patient, strong, and clever,” Shila explained. “We can test which bear has the most of these qualities by holding contests.”
Iqaluk’s eyes sparked with interest. “Like who can run fastest?”
Shila nodded. “And who can catch the biggest fish.”
“Who can hold their breath under water the longest,” Kotori called out.
Tonraq paced forward excitedly. “Who can stalk a rabbit longest without being seen.”
“Who can detect a rabbit from the farthest away!” Tartok put in.
Unease tingled in Kallik’s belly. Was it a good idea to encourage this kind of rivalry? Salik and Iqaluk were already eyeing the other bears as though weighing up their skill and strength. Kallik glanced at Yakone. He was staring at his paws. Wasn’t he interested in the trials? Leaning over Kissimi, she whispered in his ear. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Listening to this is a waste of time,” he muttered.
“Why?” Kallik was surprised. If there had to be a contest, she assumed Yakone would relish it. He was as strong and clever and patient as any bear she knew.
Yakone folded his injured paw beneath the other. “I’ll never win anything with missing toes,” he murmured under his breath. “The others would mock me for even trying.”
Kallik felt a stab of sympathy. At the same time, knowing Yakone, she doubted he wanted to be the white bears’ leader. “You don’t have to take part.”
He glared at her. “What will they think if I don’t?” His gaze flashed to Illa and Tunerq, the bears from Star Island. “It’ll look like I’m coming home weaker than when I left.”
Kissimi bounced on his paws. “I want to take part!”
“You’re too young to be good at anything!” Salik scoffed.
“I’m good at hiding!” Kissimi told him.
Iqaluk swiped playfully at the young bear. “Then go hide now, and let the grown bears talk.”
Kallik turned to Illa. “Is this such a good idea?” she whispered. “What if everyone gets too competitive?”
“That shouldn’t happen,” Illa answered. “It’s just like playing games. And it will keep us busy until the Longest Day.”
“Is there enough time left?” Kallik wasn’t sure how close the Longest Day was.
Illa nodded. “I was watching the evening shadows,” she told Kallik. “Judging by their length, there are three more sunrises before the Longest Day. That gives us plenty of time to find a new leader.”
Kallik hoped the gentle she-bear was right.
Anarteq got to his paws. “It’s decided then. The first trial will be swimming underwater.”
Qanniq’s eyes lit up. Kotori stared across the lake, his eyes narrowing.
“We will meet at the water’s edge at dawn.” Anarteq looked around at the bears, his gaze solemn. “Good luck, everyone. See you at sunrise!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lusa
The sun was sinking when Lusa woke. Rosy light filled the forest. A cool breeze rolled in from the lake and streamed over her nest among the pine roots. Yawning, she climbed to her paws and stretched.
Her first thought was of the injured bears. Had Pokkoli brought them food? Had Issa changed their bedding? Lusa padded into the trees, toward the black bear camp. She smelled herbs as she neared, and freshly dug earth and root sap. When she reached the clearing, she admired the thick layers of fern that lined the nest of the wounded bears.
“Lusa!” Rudi spotted her first. The old bear looked bright-eyed. “Tell me I don’t have to stay here anymore! The scent of fresh berries is driving me mad. I have to forage before everyone takes them!”
“Pokkoli brought you food, right?” Lusa checked.
“Loads.” Rudi nodded to a pile of discarded branches. “But it’s not the same as picking your own.”
Lusa sniffed the old bear’s wounds. The cuts on his shoulders smelled sharply of herbs, but no heat rose from them. They were healing well. And the swelling around his bruised back had eased. “You can go where you like,” Lusa conceded. Foraging in the fresh air would proba
bly help him heal more quickly.
Rudi dipped his head. “I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done.”
Lusa glanced away. It’s Ujurak you should thank.
“And those white bears,” Rudi went on. “Make sure you thank them from me. I owe them my life.”
Lusa nodded, surprised. Was this the same bear who’d refused to let Kallik carry him? “I’ll tell them.”
Rudi turned to go, then hesitated. “I don’t know how you ended up being friends with white bears,” he grunted. “But I hope it’s a friendship that lasts.”
As the old bear shambled away, Lusa’s heart lurched. So do I. She couldn’t imagine not being friends with Kallik and Yakone, but they would be leaving for the Endless Ice soon. Was friendship still friendship if you never saw your friends again?
“Lusa!” Issa’s call shook her from her thoughts. “Did you get some sleep?”
“Yes, thanks.” Lusa studied the rest of the injured bears.
Tibik was fidgeting as if he had fleas in his pelt. Chula was dozing, her injured leg wrapped in thick leaves. “Has she been in much pain?” Lusa asked.
“She complained earlier, but I dripped water onto the leaves to make them damp and the sap seems to have eased it,” Issa answered.
Lusa was impressed. “That’s great!”
“The hardest part has been keeping Tibik in his nest.”
“I’m bored,” Tibik complained. “Can I go foraging with Rudi?”
“Not yet,” Lusa told him gently. It would be better for Sheena if he stayed close.
“But I’m so bored!” Tibik wailed.
Lusa spotted a lump of moss at the bottom of the dip. Issa must have used it to drip water onto Chula’s dressing. She grabbed it and found it was still damp. Squeezing it between her paws, she rolled it into a ball. “Where I come from, a bear could balance that on his nose.” She gave it to Tibik.
He took it from her, his eyes lighting up. “Really?” He placed it on his snout. It rolled off and dropped to the ground. “That’s impossible!”
“I’ve seen it,” Lusa encouraged. “Keep practicing.”
Paws scuffed through the leaves behind her.