by Erin Hunter
Yakone landed heavily beside her. His pelt was stained with mud and stuck with pine needles. Toklo leaped down from the lowest ledge and stared across the water.
“We can’t see her,” Kallik told him.
Yakone glanced at Kallik, his gaze dark. “Do you think she survived the fall?”
Kallik flinched. She didn’t want to answer that right now, when the water was crashing down beside them loud as thunder, heavy as rocks. Instead, she followed Toklo as he clambered past the boulders to where the pool flowed over a ridge and became a river once more. Lusa was a few pawsteps ahead, her head swinging back and forth as she searched the shore.
“Chenoa! Chenoa!” Panic edged her cry.
Kallik brushed past Toklo and caught up to Lusa, who was stumbling, eyes glazed. Tufts stuck from her pelt where brambles had snagged her. Kallik smelled blood. Lusa’s pads were leaving red stains on the rocks. Kallik pressed against her, propping her up as she staggered along the river.
Yakone padded into the shallows. Nostrils twitching, he passed Kallik, Lusa, and Toklo and launched himself into the river. Swimming fast, letting the current carry him, he pulled ahead, his head turning as he scoured the edges. As the walls of the gorge gave way once more to forest, he turned and headed toward the riverbank. Emerging from the water, he padded ashore.
Kallik’s pelt pricked along her spine. Yakone had seen something. His nostrils were twitching and his ears were flat. He was heading toward boulders, where a dark shape was wedged in the shallows.
“Chenoa?” Kallik quickened her pace.
Lusa bounded forward. “Chenoa!” She reached Yakone first. “Chenoa!”
“Wait!” Toklo darted after her, pulling her back.
Kallik’s heart lurched as she saw the dark shape. A sodden pelt lay half in, half out of the water. The river tugged at Chenoa’s limp paws, making it look as if she was trying to swim away.
“Wake up!” Lusa struggled free from Toklo. She crouched beside Chenoa, nudging desperately at her cheek. “We’re here now! You’ll be okay!”
Kallik saw a deep gash above Chenoa’s closed eyes. The blood had been washed away, leaving the flesh clean and pink. Kallik hoped that the blow had come quickly, stunning Chenoa before she could feel any pain.
Toklo reached his paw out and pulled at Lusa’s shoulder. She shook him off. “Chenoa! Wake up!”
“Leave her.” Kallik nudged Toklo away. She raised her eyes, meeting Yakone’s gaze as he stood in the shallows. He stared back darkly.
“Wake up, Chenoa! We’ve found you! You’re safe now!” Lusa’s agonized cry rang around the walls of the gorge.
Toklo leaned forward. “There’s nothing we can do to help her, Lusa.”
Lusa turned on him, eyes blazing. “You should have let me go after her!” She was trembling. “She always rescued me! Why didn’t you let me rescue her?”
Toklo blinked, his eyes sharp with grief. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
Lusa turned back to Chenoa. “Another lost bear,” she wailed.
“It’s not your fault, Lusa,” Kallik told her.
“No.” Toklo’s growl cracked.
Kallik caught his eye and saw panic glittering in his gaze.
“It’s not her fault,” Toklo repeated. He turned and stalked up the shore.
Kallik’s belly tightened. He blames himself for Chenoa’s death!
Yakone splashed out of the shallows. “Toklo!”
“Let him go, Yakone.” Kallik shook her head. “He needs time alone.”
She leaned past Lusa and grabbed Chenoa’s pelt between her jaws. Yakone hurried to help, lifting Chenoa’s flank with his muzzle. Tugging hard, they freed the she-bear and pulled her close to the tree line. They laid her out gently. Water drained from her pelt and streamed over the stone, carrying her blood to the river.
Lusa pushed past Kallik and crouched beside Chenoa, beginning to lap her pelt like a mother washing her cub. “Don’t be cold.”
Kallik watched her, feeling hollow. You can’t warm her up, Lusa.
Yakone gazed into the forest where Toklo had disappeared. “We should bury her,” he growled. “Unless you want wolverines picking at her pelt.”
Kallik hushed him with a warning glance, but Lusa hadn’t heard.
She was murmuring to Chenoa. “You nearly made it! You nearly found your own home. But you’ll be safe now. You’ll make your home beside your mother.”
Grief rolled through Kallik, hardening in her chest until she was aware of the weight of every breath. The shadows lengthened, and she felt the sudden chill of evening as the sun dipped down behind the forest.
The undergrowth swished, and Toklo appeared from the trees. “I’ve found a place for her,” he announced. “She’ll have a proper burial.”
Kallik searched his eyes for grief or rage, but they were clear and steady. He nudged his snout beneath Chenoa’s damp pelt. With a grunt, he rolled her up toward his shoulders. Yakone helped haul Chenoa across Toklo’s back. Together, they carried her into the forest.
Lusa stood trembling on the stones. “It’s too soon to bury her. I need to see her.”
Kallik rested her muzzle on Lusa’s head. “We’ll build her a safe place to rest. Away from scavengers.” She nudged the black bear forward into the forest. Yakone’s white pelt flashed ahead of them. Kallik guided Lusa until the trees opened into a small clearing. She gasped when she saw that the undergrowth had already been scraped away and broken branches were heaped beside a pile of rocks. Toklo’s prepared her burial place.
Toklo knelt and let Chenoa slide from his shoulders. As Yakone gently lowered the dead bear to the ground, Toklo began to dig in the place where he had exposed the dark brown soil. Yakone joined in. Together, they heaped up pawfuls of earth. Kallik nosed in beside them and helped.
They dug until the hole was deep enough to hold Chenoa’s body. Wordlessly, Toklo grabbed Chenoa’s scruff. Kallik saw his muddy paws buckle with the effort. She leaned closer and grasped the she-bear’s cold pelt between her teeth, and together, they heaved her in. Chenoa slid into the bottom of the hole.
Lusa backed away, her fur on end. Her eyes were round with horror. “Chenoa.” The word came in a sob.
Kallik padded to Lusa’s side. “She’ll be safe here,” she murmured.
Toklo pawed earth onto Chenoa’s body. “Sleep well, Chenoa,” he whispered. “May your spirit hear the wind in the trees and taste the scents of the forest.”
Yakone bowed his head. “May you find good hunting and feel the sun warm on your back.”
Kallik stepped forward and scraped more soil into the hole. The black she-bear looked as small as a cub, curled in the bottom. Her soaked pelt was disappearing beneath the coat of earth. “We will meet again in the stars,” Kallik promised. She glanced over her shoulder. “Lusa?” Was she ready to say good-bye to her friend?
Lusa blinked back at Kallik, her eyes misted. Then she darted forward and leaned into the hole. “I should have rescued you! I’m so sorry! This is all my fault. I wanted to be your friend forever.”
Toklo paced around the edge and nudged Lusa softly away. “We have to bury her now. Before scavengers scent her death.” He turned and dragged a branch from the pile and laid it over Chenoa. Yakone covered her with another. Then they began to pile the rocks on top. Kallik padded across the clearing and lifted a heavy, flat stone. She placed it carefully in front of the mound, a marker if she ever came back here. Lusa sat and watched.
They worked in silence until Chenoa was hidden under a heap of stones, earth, and branches.
“No one will disturb her now.” Toklo backed away, his pelt dusty. He dropped to his belly and rested his nose on his paws. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Kallik’s heart ached. She swung her head around and caught Yakone’s eye. Yakone stretched out his muzzle and touched hers. “Let’s all rest,” he whispered. Padding to Toklo’s side, he settled down and pressed close to the brown bear.
Kallik turned
to Lusa. “Come on,” she huffed softly. “Let’s rest beside Chenoa.”
Lusa stared blankly as Kallik curled around her. “Rest, Lusa.” She pulled Lusa down into the warmth of her pelt. “Sleep. Dream of Chenoa.”
Lusa did not move.
Kallik looked up. The sky showed in tiny slivers, dark between the treetops. Moonlight streamed down into the tiny clearing. She could see stars, glittering. “Take care of Chenoa,” she whispered to her mother. “Keep her safe until we meet again.”
Lusa hardly spoke in the days after Chenoa’s death. During the second long, weary struggle up the waterfall and all the sunrises since, she’d walked alone, her eyes on her paws. When they hunted, she sat on the shore and watched. Yakone brought her roots, but she only nibbled at them. Her pelt grew dirty and unkempt.
“I’m worried about Lusa.” Kallik fell in beside Toklo as he marched along the shore. They’d trekked all day, and now the sun was sinking behind the trees. She could hear Yakone splashing through the cool shallows behind them. Lusa was trudging along a few bearlengths ahead.
Toklo didn’t look up. “She’s grieving over Chenoa.”
“She can’t go on like this,” Kallik pointed out. “She’s not eating properly or washing.”
“Did you think I hadn’t noticed?” There was anger in Toklo’s growl.
“But we need to help her.”
“How?”
“We need to make her understand that it’s not her fault.”
Toklo flashed her a glance. Kallik veered away, shocked by the rage glittering in his eyes.
“It’s not her fault,” he hissed. “It’s my fault!”
Kallik blinked. “How?”
“I persuaded Chenoa to come with us.” He kicked angrily at the pebbles. “I should have left her where she was. Traveling with us is too dangerous.”
“But she wanted to leave Hakan!” Kallik argued. “She was so happy to be with us. You gave her a chance to find a new life.”
“What a great new life I gave her!” Toklo snarled. “It didn’t even last a moon!”
Kallik felt his grief and rage like a wall of stone around him, shutting her out. “Be gentle with yourself,” she whispered, and hurried to catch up with Lusa. “We should stop soon, Lusa,” she told her briskly.
Lusa ignored her.
“Toklo’s sad about Chenoa, too,” Kallik ventured. “But I know her spirit is watching over us.” She jerked her muzzle toward the woods. “Have you seen her spirit yet? In a tree?”
“No.” Lusa’s growl was hard.
Kallik refused to be pushed away. “But you were such a good friend to her,” she persisted. “And Chenoa was so fond of you. She’ll know you’ll be looking for her.”
“But I’m not,” Lusa snorted.
“Perhaps you should,” Kallik suggested.
Lusa stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to see her being dead!” she snapped. “Why don’t you look? Or Toklo? Let’s all look. I’m sure one of us will find her. She’ll be so pleased. Playing hide-and-seek is the best part about being dead.”
Kallik was shocked by the harshness in Lusa’s growl. “Please, Lusa, don’t be angry. It’s not your fault Chenoa died, any more than it’s Toklo’s.” She felt despair swamp her. “Chenoa knew how brave you are. She knew you would have saved her if you could. But the river’s too powerful. There was nothing you could have done.”
“But I’ll never know that!” Lusa’s growl turned into a wail. “I didn’t even try! I let her down when she needed me most!”
Kallik fought the grief rising in her throat. She hated to see Lusa in so much pain. “We’re here if you need us,” she murmured. She slowed down, letting Toklo pass, and waited for Yakone to catch up.
He bounded from the water and stopped beside her. “Couldn’t you cheer them up?”
Kallik sighed. “I’ve seen Toklo in one of his dark moods before, but never Lusa.”
“This is something they’re going to have to work through by themselves,” Yakone warned her. “You can’t fix everything.”
“I can try.”
Yakone pressed his cheek against hers.
“We should stop and rest for the night,” Kallik suggested.
Yakone nodded. “Toklo! Lusa! We’re stopping!”
The woodland bears halted and peered back.
“Who wants to help me find a good den in the woods?” Yakone headed for the trees.
Kallik felt a rush of gratitude for her friend. Yakone hated sleeping in the forest.
Lusa shrugged. “Don’t bother,” she called. “I’ll find my own nest.” She headed into the trees farther upstream. Toklo settled down on the shore where he’d stopped.
Kallik stared at them.
“Come on, Kallik.” Yakone’s white muzzle poked out from the shadowy trees. “Let’s sleep.”
Kallik gazed at Toklo. Lusa had disappeared. “But—”
Yakone cut her off. “Let’s sleep,” he repeated firmly.
Kallik followed him into the woods, heart aching. Why did Chenoa have to die? She was just beginning her new life. She’d been so eager to explore, always rushing to be first around the next bend in the river. Hadn’t she deserved more happiness before she died? Hadn’t they all suffered enough grief?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lusa
Lusa barged through a line of ragwort into the forest. Evening light streaked the leaf-strewn earth. She growled under her breath. The others could sleep where they liked. She wanted to be alone. She was sick of Kallik trying to cheer her up and Toklo pretending it was all his fault.
I’m so sorry, Chenoa.
She wandered through the trees until dusk softened into night. The air grew chilly. Lusa scanned the branches above her head. The aspen and birch trembling around her reminded her of the way Chenoa shook with laughter. Lusa padded to a trunk and scrambled up it, nestling in the low branches. The bark scraped her fur. The branch was twisted and knobbly. This tree would be no good for sleeping.
She clutched the trunk with her forepaws and lowered herself to the ground. A birch nearby had thicker branches. She clawed her way up, past the lowest branches to a sturdier bough. Curling in a cleft where the branch arched from the trunk, Lusa nestled down. The bark was smooth and the tree cradled her. As a breeze swished through the tree, Lusa listened to the sighing of the branches. She felt comforted by their gentle creak. Safe in their embrace, she closed her eyes and burrowed into sleep.
The river swept through her dreams. Suddenly, she was back at the waterfall. She was balancing on the rock, water swirling around her.
Chenoa!
Her friend’s eyes were dazed with shock as she stared back from the edge of the falls. Lusa froze in horror as Chenoa floundered desperately against the current.
“Chenoa!” The scream stuck in her throat. Her chest seemed to burst as Chenoa slid from view.
She can’t be dead! She can’t be!
Lusa struggled in her sleep, trying to escape her dream, but another flooded in. She was on the shore, the waterfall thundering in the distance upriver. Dread filled her as she padded toward the boulders where Yakone stood. She knew what he’d found, even before she saw it. But the shock of seeing the limp black pelt, snagged on the rocks, slammed into her like a firebeast. She struggled for breath.
Next moment, Chenoa was lying in the shallow pit Toklo had dug with Kallik and Yakone. They were heaping dirt onto her, then branches, then rocks, one by one. How will she breathe? Lusa wanted to scream as they covered her friend’s body. Suddenly, she was in the pit alongside Chenoa. But I’m not dead! Darkness pressed in with the weight of the rocks. She struggled to push them off, but they were too heavy. She clawed at the branches, trying to scream, but earth showered into her mouth.
“Help!” She woke with a shriek, relieved to feel the cool night air ruffling her pelt. She was safe in her tree. Moonlight filtered through the branches, glowing on the silvery bark. It seemed to pool on one particular part of the trunk, d
elicately picking up shadows and coils in the surface of the tree.
Lusa stiffened as a swirl in the trunk close to her muzzle seemed to take on a familiar shape.
“Chenoa? Is that you?” She sniffed at the whorls in the bark. There was no tang of sap, just the soft scent of her friend. Lusa jerked backward, eyes wide. The shape in the trunk seemed to be looking straight at her. “Chenoa! It is you!” Lusa wrapped her paws around the trunk and closed her eyes. She’d tried not to look for her friend, scared of any reminder that Chenoa was dead. But Chenoa had found her! Her spirit had found its way into the tree. Even though she was dead, she was still in the forest. Lusa suddenly felt warm and safe.
“Thank you for finding me,” she whispered. Clinging to the tree, she closed her eyes and drifted deep into sleep.
A buzzing noise woke her. Lusa opened her eyes.
Sunshine glittered through the branches. Where are the others? She jumped to her paws, realizing with a jolt that she wasn’t in a nest or a den but in a tree. She clung to the trunk to stop herself from falling. Chenoa’s scent touched her nose. Gasping, Lusa remembered and sat back on the branch. In the warm sunlight, she could see Chenoa’s face clearly picked out by the rippling bark: her broad muzzle, her neat ears, her warm eyes.
“Hi, Chenoa!” Lusa huffed in delight.
The buzzing noise broke into her cheerfulness. It was the same angry buzzing they’d skirted before in the forest, the one that sounded like all the firebeasts in the world gathered together. She’d better find the others.
Lusa climbed down from the tree and glanced around, trying to remember which way she’d trekked from the river. Nothing looked familiar in the morning light.
“Toklo?” she called. “Kallik?” She pricked her ears, but only the buzzing answered.
She looked up at Chenoa. “Which way should I go?”
The swirl in the bark looked down solemnly.
“I need to find the others.” Chenoa must understand that she had to leave. Lusa backed away, feeling sadness tug in her belly. “I’ll always remember you.” She turned and set off through the woods. Was that a glimmer of water flashing through the trees? The river must be this way, and the others would be on the shore. She quickened her pace, ducking under bracken and pushing past knotweed until the birch gave way to pine. The buzzing hummed louder until it grew to a screech. Lusa flattened her ears. What was making the noise? Was it coming to hurt them? Her heart began to pound. Why had she left the others last night? She had to warn them.