by Jo Sandhu
Luuka bent to catch his breath and looked around. ‘I think we should keep going.’
Kaija was surprised. ‘But we may not find such a good camp site and we have water here.’
Before Luuka could respond, Rohk threw back his head and howled. His howl lacked resonance, but it carried through the trees. Nilkka whimpered, then she also howled. From the shadows came an answering cry. Then another.
Kaija’s fears rose. They had survived one wolf attack, but that time they had had fire and blazing torches to chase off the attackers. This time, they had nothing prepared.
‘We’ll keep going,’ Kaija said. Her face felt bloodless, and when she looked at her brother, she saw he was pale and worried as well.
‘Keep the wolves close,’ Luuka said. ‘As soon as the trees open out, we’ll make a fire.’ Then he grasped his sister’s hand. ‘We will be fine. You’ll see.’
Kaija nodded but kept her lips gripped together. In a tight group, they moved through the forest as fast as they could without running. From time to time, Kaija thought she saw a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. At other times, a howl would float on the breeze. She couldn’t tell if they were getting further away, or if the wolves were tracking them.
As the sun reached the horizon, they came to a river. It was deep enough that they would have to swim, but their clothes would dry and it would be a barrier between them and the wolves. Rohk and Nilkka were better at river crossings now, and together, the four of them quickly entered the water.
A small stand of twisted birch trees gave them shelter and cover for the camp, and they ate the ptarmigan roasted over the hot embers of their fire. But the wolves were still restless and they spent much of the night staring into the darkness and growling low in their throats at the howls that drifted across the river.
Kaija tried to stay awake, but she kept nodding off to sleep. Her dreams were fretful and haunted by the gleam of glowing wolf eyes and long, glinting fangs. Luuka built the fire larger, and they huddled together in its protective glow. The short night passed slowly, and in the morning, they broke camp hurriedly, determined to be far away from the wolves and their territory by nightfall.
It was towards evening on their fifth night out of the Ungirski camp that the wolves suddenly yelped and disappeared into the gloom. Luuka and Kaija called after them, but the wolves either didn’t hear or didn’t listen.
‘They’ll be hurt, Luuka!’ Kaija cried. ‘We have to do something.’
‘I won’t let them be hurt, Kaija.’ Luuka sounded grim. He had crafted some rudimentary thick spears during their meal breaks, with fire-hardened tips ground into points, just like Narn and Yorv had showed him. Now, he hefted one firmly in his hands and started running towards the wolf noises.
Kaija ran with her sling, but she doubted she could get more than one or two shots at whatever was attacking the wolves. Their yelps increased, howls echoing, voices raised in high-pitched cries. She wanted to scream after them, but had to save her breath for running.
She and Luuka burst through the trees, and stopped. Rohk and Nilkka had wrestled a small figure to the ground. The wolves were all over the cowering creature, yapping, biting, snapping, licking . . .
‘Stop! Stop! Rohk! Enough! Nilkka! Stop!’ A laughing voice broke through the noise. But the wolves couldn’t stop. They tumbled Tarin around, licking his face and his head. Utu jumped onto Nilkka’s back and hissed in disgust at the pathetic human rolling in the dust.
‘Tarin!’ Kaija screamed and leapt into the fray. She hugged him fiercely and punched him on the shoulder. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘And what are you doing to the wolves?’ Luuka raised his voice above the chaos.
Tarin stopped trying to cover his face and glared at Luuka. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing to them? They are eating me!’
‘Good,’ said Luuka. ‘We won’t have to feed them for a while.’ He held his hand out for Tarin to grip and hauled him to his feet. The wolves kept trying to leap and lick his face, but soon gave up and licked Utu instead. The little owl chirruped and smoothed their fur with his beak.
‘What are you doing here,’ Kaija asked again. ‘You should be halfway across the tundra by now.’
Tarin dusted himself off and grinned sheepishly. ‘I missed my Clan,’ he said.
A smile broke out on Kaija’s face. She thought she would never stop smiling again. ‘And we missed you, Tarin.’
With his clan reunited, Tarin felt a renewed sense of joy and confidence. They would find the reindeer traders and Senja, and take her with them to Mammoth Clan. The weather would hold good, and by first snow they would be on the final stages of their journey. But the days were already shortening, the darker nights returning, and they pressed on into the long twilight to make the most of the last days of Summer.
Food was plentiful, but they hunted only for their immediate needs. Pikas, jerboas and fat steppe hamsters were easily hunted with the sling or spear. Luuka practised every day with the spear.
‘I bet I’m as accurate as you now, Tarin,’ he said with a laugh. He had just brought down a plump muskrat as it dived for its burrow by the side of a small stream. A smile covered his face and a stiff breeze tangled his hair. Tarin answered by throwing a stone at him.
‘As soon as your sister lets me take this strapping off, we’ll have a contest,’ he said.
Kaija made a face at them both. ‘Not yet. Do you want your arm to heal twisted?’
Tarin flexed his arm and tested opening and closing his fist. He was sure he was growing stronger each day. His arm no longer ached and the wounds on his face were pale lines. On his shoulder, Utu fluffed his wings and chirruped. The owl had lost his fine cover of down and was now growing soft grey feathers tipped with white.
‘Utu is growing stronger too,’ Tarin said, and scratched the owl beneath his chin. ‘And heavier.’ Utu snapped at him. ‘Do you think he’ll ever fly, Kaija?’
‘He is certainly strong-willed enough to try,’ Kaija said.
The stream joined with a larger waterway, and they followed this along until it, too, became part of a river flowing across their path. River crossings slowed them down, but they also provided an opportunity to fish and fill their water flasks. This river was an easy one to cross, because it split into numerous shallow channels, divided by rocky islands and large rocks. Kaija and Luuka were drying off on the bank, when Tarin realised the stones he was kicking into the water were familiar. He held them up to the sun and smiled. ‘Firestones!’
Kaija and Luuka were picking their way across to him, when Tarin felt the rocks beneath his feet moving. He waved his arms to tell them to keep back, but the rocks beneath the others were also moving. Rohk and Nilkka yelped and ran for shore, their tails and heads low. Utu twisted his head around and hissed. Luuka lost his footing and fell into the shallow water.
‘What was that?’ Kaija said.
‘Earth tremor.’
Tarin settled Utu and took a deep breath. Such an omen couldn’t be good, he thought. Dread settled over him like a heavy grey cloud and his optimism dimmed. Last time he had felt a tremor, he had been lost in the caverns of Ice Bringer, and now their journey was once more taking them towards mountains. He hoped they could catch the reindeer traders first.
He helped Luuka up out of the water and they calmed the wolves before moving on.
They travelled even faster now, often eating as they walked along. Two days of constant rain brought their journey to a sudden stop. They could barely see in front of them, mud made walking heavy going and they were all cold and miserable. Tarin’s last grain of optimism crumbled, and he hunched his shoulders and tried to stop Utu from making a nest in his hair.
So far, there had been no more tremors, and they had passed no other people or settlements, but on their sixteenth day out of the Ungirski camp, they came across a huddle of deserted lodges by the side of a small lake. They were simple structures of bones and thick bison hides, maybe used as tempor
ary shelters on an extended hunting or gathering trip.
‘I wonder where the people are?’ Kaija said. She lifted the flap on one of the lodges and looked in. Furs still lay on the floor and lined the walls.
‘Close by, I think,’ Tarin murmured. He sniffed the air and followed the scent of smoke to a cooking pit. The fire had been hastily covered in dirt, but a thin trickle of smoke still smouldered. He caught the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to see a dark figure move from one stand of tall river reeds to another.
‘We mean no harm.’ Tarin called out and raised his hands in the air.
The reeds rustled and a man rushed towards him. His face was covered in a crude mask of reindeer hide and he rattled a long mammoth bone staff at them. The wolves growled and prepared to attack, but Tarin and Luuka grabbed them by the soft fur around their necks and pulled them back.
‘We won’t hurt you,’ Kaija said. ‘The wolves won’t hurt you.’
‘Evil Spirits!’ the man cried out. ‘Turn from here.’
‘We’re not evil Spirits,’ Luuka said. He strained to hold Rohk under control. ‘We’re not even Spirits.’
‘Evil ones!’
The man advanced towards them and rattled the staff again. Rohk bared his teeth and snarled.
‘Tarin! I can’t hold Rohk much longer. I think we should go.’
Tarin nodded. He and Kaija were having their own battle with Nilkka, and Utu wasn’t helping. He puffed his feathers out and raised both wings in the air. He flared his facial feathers wide, showing the full length of his dagger-sharp beak, and with a shrill cry, he pushed himself off Tarin’s shoulder and swooped towards the man.
The man screamed and waved his staff in the air. It whistled past Utu, just brushing his wings. The owl wobbled, then turned to attack again.
‘No!’
Tarin leapt forward and grabbed the man around the waist. They both landed hard on the ground and pain shot through Tarin’s arm. The man was the first to his feet and he raised the staff in the air, as though to bring it down on Tarin’s head.
‘Stop!’ Luuka shouted.
Rohk burst from his hold and stood over Tarin, snarling viciously at the man. Luuka grabbed his arm and wrestled the staff from him. Tarin was dimly aware of cries coming from the thick reeds that ringed the lake.
‘Luuka! Let’s just go. We’re scaring them,’ he grunted.
‘We’re scaring them?!’ Kaija asked with a gasp. She still had hold of Nilkka. Utu hopped awkwardly over to her and she smoothed his feathers.
Luuka held the mammoth bone staff out to the man. ‘We are going. We will leave you in peace. But there was no danger.’
‘The Evil Ones are trying to trick us!’ The man grabbed the staff and again flourished it at them.
Luuka sighed and helped Tarin to his feet. ‘If he tries to hit us with that staff again I’ll break it.’
Tarin let Utu settle once more on his shoulder and the travellers backed away from the camp. Behind them, they could still hear the chanting of the Spirit Keeper.
Once they were well away, Tarin looked at Luuka with a smile. ‘You would break a mammoth bone staff ?’
Luuka grinned. ‘I thought I might break it over his head. How could he be so stupid?’
‘They were afraid,’ Tarin said. ‘Deathly afraid of the bad Spirits.’
‘If they had hurt you or Utu or the wolves, I would have broken that staff over his stupid head myself,’ Kaija said with a sniff.
‘How brave were our friends, though?’ Tarin said. He dropped to one knee and scratched Rohk vigorously. The wolf licked his face and whined. ‘And Utu! You can fly!’ Tarin lifted the owl from his shoulder and buried his head in the owl’s soft feathers.
‘I told you he was stubborn enough to fly,’ Kaija said. ‘Can I see his wing?’
Gently, she ran her hands over the owl. Utu made a noise low in his throat, but he let Kaija finish her examination.
‘I think he will always have a slight weakness in that wing,’ Kaija said. ‘But he seems healed.’
Tarin hugged the owl again and replaced him on his shoulder. Once again, Owl and Wolf had protected him and their little clan.
‘Thank you,’ Tarin whispered, and his heart was full.
The confrontation had upset all of them, even the animals. Rohk and Nilkka stayed close by their sides as the travellers put more distance between them and the tiny camp.
The grasslands gradually gave way to rolling fells and forests of firs and spruce. River crossings still slowed them down. At this time of year, some were nothing more than shallow, rocky fords, but others required planning. Steep cliffs and gullies meant they often had no choice but to change course, and swift-flowing deep water was dangerous to cross. The landscape was unfamiliar to all of them, with huge rocks sometimes sticking out of the water, as though they had fallen from the sky.
‘I didn’t know we’d have to climb in and out of every gully in our way,’ Tarin grumbled one evening. They had made camp beneath an overhanging rock and three fat perch lay baking across hot rocks. The river below them had yielded not only the fish, but a couple of crayfish they were saving for tomorrow. The wolves had disappeared in search of their own dinner, but that wouldn’t stop them demanding a share of whatever the others were eating. Utu sat calmly picking his way through the fish intestines Luuka had thrown his way.
‘I’ll tell you a story I once heard about the Karvkh,’ Luuka said. ‘I wish I could sing it like Aatos . . .’
‘No, don’t,’ said Kaija.
Luuka made a face at her and leant back on his elbow. ‘There was once a time when all the world was dark, and the ice was so thick it was like a great mountain. Bear looked down from his place in the Spirit World and saw the people cold and afraid.’
Luuka tossed another branch on their fire and the flames flared upwards.
‘So Bear came down into the world, and brought with him a flame. He gave the flame to the people, and showed them how to use the flame to keep them warm and keep away the darkness. Then Bear returned to his place in the Spirit World, but if you look up, you can still see him and his fires shining brightly.’ He pointed towards the sky. ‘See those three bright stars? They form Bear’s tail. He’s low down in the sky now because soon it will be Autumn and time to sleep.’
‘That doesn’t look like a bear,’ Kaija said with a snort. ‘The tail is too long.’
‘Another part of the legend says that when Bear tried to return to the Spirit World, the people were sad, and caught him by the tail to stop him going, but Bear was stronger. He pulled his tail free and returned to the Spirit World, but that is why his tail is so long. To the Karvkh, Bear is just as important as the Earth Mother.’
Sleep drifted closer and Tarin sighed. He had enjoyed the story of Bear. It reminded him of the Mammutti legend his mother had told him, about the star on Bear’s tail. When he returned home, he would sit about the fire with his sisters and tell them this new tale. He imagined Saara’s eyes glowing in the firelight.
Tarin relaxed further, and as he finally slept, he wondered what other stories of the mysterious Bear People he would have to tell.
The following day dawned grey and wet. A steady fall of rain overnight had turned the earth to sludge and made it impossible to see more than a short distance in front of them. Tarin would have voted to stay in the shelter that day, resting and waiting out the rain, but Kaija was keen to move on. The closer they came to the mountains the more eager she was to reach the Karvkh settlement and her mother. Luuka scratched his chin and stared out at the falling rain, but in the end, he, too, voted to push onwards.
Since leaving the Ungirski, the moon had come full circle, but there had been no sign of people, and they decided that the reindeer traders must have already reached the Karvkh.
Tarin hitched his backpack higher and pulled his hood around his face. Utu tried to burrow under the hood as well, and after pushing him away several times, Tarin finally
gave in and let the sodden owl huddle close to him. Rohk and Nilkka loped along beside them, Rohk casting mournful looks at them.
‘Tarin?’ Kaija dropped back to walk with him. ‘Do you remember if Osku said anything about where to find the settlement once we had reached the mountains?’
‘Two tall rocks on an escarpment that look like old women hunched over,’ Tarin said. ‘And a shallow river with lots of rapids and waterfalls.’
He had turned to look at her when he noticed the wolves were acting strange. They kept close to Luuka, running behind him as though to push him faster. Rohk’s head was low to the ground, and Nilkka whimpered and whined.
They had just picked their way through a marshy area fed by a small spring, but their water flasks were still full from the river so they hadn’t stopped.
The wolves, however, had snuffled at the ground surrounding the spring and had to be called away from it when they wouldn’t come themselves.
Tarin had just wondered what it was they could smell, when he felt the ground around them shift. The limestone rocks beneath them had been weakened by the constant dripping water and the same tremors that had caused the avalanche on Ice Bringer, further to the south.
Now, the rocks moved and shifted again. Rohk put his head back and howled. A flurry of birds took to the skies from the surrounding trees, and with a sucking, gurgling sound, the earth slipped away, taking Luuka with it and leaving the wolves scrabbling for a hold on the edge of a huge chasm.
Tarin and Kaija stared in speechless horror. Then they both leapt forward and grabbed a wolf each, pulling them towards safety.
More ground gave way, crumbling further into the huge pit that had opened at their feet.
‘I can’t . . . I can’t look,’ Kaija stuttered. She wrapped her arms around a muddy Rohk and buried her face.
Tarin edged carefully forward. He used a spear to test the ground, but it held beneath him. He lay on his stomach and peered downwards. He expected to see nothing but crushed rocks and mud, or Luuka’s lifeless body lying at the bottom of the pit, but . . .