by Erin Hunter
She pelted downstream. “Kallik! Toklo! Yakone!”
Shapes moved in the moonlight. She recognized a flash of white pelt. They were coming. Lusa scampered to meet them, panting. “We have to save them! They’re wailing!”
Toklo skidded to a halt and glanced nervously at the water. “We can’t,” he growled.
“You’re scared!” Lusa accused him.
“The river tried to kill me when I rescued that flat-face!” Toklo snapped.
Frustration surged through Lusa. There wasn’t time to be scared.
Kallik’s pelt brushed hers. “The river is strong, Toklo, but we’re with you. We won’t let it hurt you.”
Toklo ignored her. “Let’s just wait for the flat-faces to go to sleep and get past this mess.”
“Mess?” Lusa stared at him. “I can’t believe you’re giving up! Aren’t you even going to try to save the spirits?”
“We’re not strong enough,” Toklo insisted.
“We won’t know unless we try!” Bear spirits were trapped! They had to release the logs! It was the only chance the spirits had of escaping. They could reach the shore, far away from the flat-faces, and find new homes. Logs crashed behind her, and Lusa spun as the next load bounced into the river.
“Please, Toklo. We must help—” Her words caught in her throat as she spotted silver bark among the dark pine. “Chenoa?” she whispered. Splashing through the shallows, Lusa raced toward a birch as it rolled into the river. As the birch bobbed in the water, Lusa saw Chenoa’s face etched in the bark—broad muzzle, neat ears, warm eyes. “Chenoa!” The face gazed back at her.
Lusa turned to the others. “How did she get here? We left her days ago!”
Kallik looked somber. “The firebeasts must have carried her here.”
“We have to save her!” Lusa stared desperately at Toklo.
“Is that really Chenoa?” The brown bear peered, blinking, at the birch.
Lusa grabbed Chenoa’s tree and dragged it toward shore. “We can haul her out!” she puffed.
“Move!” Yakone roared.
Logs clattered down the bank. Lusa froze as she watched them bouncing toward her. Claws grabbed her flank and ripped her away as a huge pine crashed past.
“That was too close!” Kallik hugged Lusa against her belly.
Lusa struggled free. She stared at Toklo. Bark chips specked his muzzle. “You saw her, didn’t you? You saw it was Chenoa! We can’t leave her here!”
Toklo’s eyes glittered with fear. “She’s with the other tree spirits. She’s not alone.”
Yakone flexed his claws. “Let’s get out of here before someone gets killed.”
“No!” Lusa barked. “There are spirits in the trees!” She swung toward Kallik. “Did I ever doubt that your ancestors were beneath the ice?”
Kallik shifted her paws.
“They’re trapped! In the water! They’ll drown if they stay here!” Lusa jerked her snout to the clawed firebeast on the far shore. “Or that monster will take them somewhere worse!”
“She’s right,” Kallik murmured. “We can’t walk away from this.”
Lusa fixed her gaze on Toklo. “I abandoned Chenoa before,” she growled. “I’m not doing it again.”
The flat-face lights blinked out. Lusa gasped as darkness swallowed her up. As she strained to adjust to moonlight, the roaring rumbled to a halt. Lusa’s heart soared. The firebeasts had stopped. “We can save them! We must!”
“Okay.” Toklo lifted his muzzle. “We need to break that vine.” He padded to where one end was hooked into the rock. Thrusting his weight against it, he grunted with effort. Sighing, Yakone padded to join him. Kallik followed.
Lusa rushed to help. She grabbed the vine with her paws. It felt hard as stone, and slippery. Straining, she pushed beside Kallik. “It’s not moving.”
“Let’s bite through it.” Yakone clamped his jaws around the vine and tugged hard.
“Careful.” Kallik stiffened. Dark patches were spreading through the white fur around Yakone’s muzzle. “Your mouth’s bleeding!” He let go, spitting out blood.
Lusa wrapped her paws tighter around the vine and pulled harder. It held firm. She glanced along its length, following it down to where it tethered the web. “It might be easier to break in the water.” She splashed into the river. There was no room between the press of logs and the web. She scrabbled over the floating trees, digging her claws deep into the bark to steady herself. “I’m sorry!” she whispered to the spirits. Balancing on a pine, she pushed at the web. It was as tough as the vine! Panic bubbled in her belly. “I can’t move it!”
On the shore, Toklo gnawed at the claw holding the vine. He backed away, blood dripping from his jaws. “It’s too hard.”
“We’re not strong enough!” Lusa wailed. She scrambled back to shore, her pelt dripping. “What do we do—” As she spoke, a shadow cut across her path. She looked up with a gasp.
A huge moose gazed down at her, its wide antlers framed by the moon. Its gaze caught hers, its blue eyes pale as ice. A flame flickered deep within them. And inside Lusa’s head, a voice said, I can help you.
Lusa froze. “Ujurak? Is that you?”
The moose turned toward the river. It padded down to the water and waded in. Lusa gulped. It left no hoofprints in the sand. The moose moved through the water without a ripple and the logs shifted, opening to let it pass.
Lusa felt pelts brush around her. Kallik, Yakone, and Toklo were staring at the huge animal.
“Is it Ujurak?” Toklo whispered.
“Yes.” Lusa’s eyes widened.
“I thought he was a bear.” Yakone sounded puzzled.
“I told you, he changes shape,” Kallik murmured.
The moose sniffed at the mesh, then waded out of the river. It touched its nose to the vine, following it up to the boulder.
“We can’t break it,” Toklo explained.
The moose gazed at him wordlessly.
I’ve missed you, Ujurak. The words sprang from Lusa’s heart.
The moose seemed to hear. It jerked its soft muzzle around. I am always with you, my friend.
Lusa felt the words like warm sun through her pelt. She stared, joy rising in her chest, as the moose walked back into the water. Once more, the logs cleared a path. The moose beckoned with a flick of its antlers, and Kallik waded in behind him. Yakone followed and grabbed hold of the web. Lusa glanced at Toklo. He was hesitating at the river’s edge. Stiffening, he splashed into the water, screwing up his eyes like a cub.
Lusa scampered after, staying in the shallows where her hindpaws could get a grip on the riverbed. She lifted her forepaws and gripped the web. Its tough threads dug into her pads.
“Push!” Kallik gave the order.
Together, the bears heaved. Lusa felt her muscles burning. Her hindpaws slipped, and she splashed underwater. Coughing, she surfaced and caught hold of the web once more. The vine creaked. Were they shifting something? Lusa pushed harder. We can do it! Toklo grunted beside her. Kallik’s eyes bulged. A roar rumbled in Yakone’s throat.
The moose watched them work, his pale blue eyes full of encouragement.
Lusa plunged her muzzle into the water, pushing with all her might. Something thumped her back, and she tumbled beneath the surface. Glancing up, she glimpsed silver bark through the water. Chenoa was nudging her! Lusa surfaced with a splash. “I’m pushing!” she promised. Heaving her shoulder against the web, she quivered as she strained.
Suddenly the vine shifted. With a crack, the claw pinning it to the rock gave way. The web folded beneath Lusa’s paws as the vine snaked down the bank and disappeared into the water.
“Get out of the way!” Kallik roared.
The sea of logs sailed toward them. Lusa splashed from the water and scrambled onto the bank. Toklo landed beside her, panting.
The spirits were free! The river was unblocked! With a gasp, Lusa saw that Kallik and Yakone were still in the water. “Hurry!” Lusa barked as Kallik splash
ed toward the shore.
Wood cracked and bark splintered as the current swept the logs closer to the white bears. With a bellow, Yakone threw himself against a log and held it back with his shoulders. Trunks piled up behind, and his face twisted with effort. Kallik bounded toward the shore. She exploded out of the shallows and skidded to a halt beside Toklo.
“Yakone!” Her panicked cry echoed across the river.
Yakone let go of the log and lunged for the shore. A trunk bashed his rump, knocking his paws out from under him. He began to spin away, logs crowding toward him. Kallik darted forward and snapped at his scruff. As she grabbed him, his paws hit the riverbed and he scrambled from the water, logs clattering behind.
Lusa’s heart soared. They were safe! And she could hear the trees sighing. The spirits were singing as they slid downstream. “Good-bye, Chenoa,” she whispered, a lump rising in her throat. “You’re free now to join your mother.” She dug her claws into the sand. I’ll be alone soon. The future she’d imagined with Chenoa slipped away with her spirit.
She stiffened. The moose! Where was he? Just before the mesh gave way, he’d been standing in the middle of the river. “Ujurak!” She scanned the mass of trees skimming past.
Toklo raced to the river’s edge. “Ujurak!”
The moose had disappeared. Was it lost beneath the logs?
Something flashed at the edge of Lusa’s vision. She whirled and saw a beaver haul itself onto the bank. It shook out its heavy fur and gazed straight at Lusa. Its eyes burned brightly in the moonlight.
Ujurak! She knew it was him. “Thank you!” she called.
A voice whispered in her mind. Chenoa is free now. Travel on, my friends. I’m watching over you.
The beaver turned to go.
“Wait!” Lusa called. “Why did she have to drown? Couldn’t you save her?”
The beaver looked back. I can’t change every bear’s destiny.
Lusa blinked, her eyes misting.
The beaver slid into the water and, with a flick of its powerful tail, disappeared beneath the ripples. I grieved with you.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Toklo
Toklo watched the logs slide away. They rode the current, rolling and bumping, glittering with starlight before disappearing into darkness. We set them free!
Lusa stood wide-eyed beside him, her wet pelt spiked up in alarm. Toklo pictured the river filled with black bear spirits. They would be swimming, free as fish, among the brown bear spirits that already flowed through the endless stream. Relief flooded Toklo. Perhaps the river didn’t hate him after all. It fed him and cooled him and rinsed the dust from his fur. And when he died, it would carry his spirit to the sea and to freedom.
Good-bye, Chenoa. The silver birch tumbled away, its bark shining among the dark pine trunks. You’ll be free soon.
Lusa bounced beside him. “Ujurak came!”
“He helped us!” Kallik exclaimed.
“We couldn’t have done it without him.” Toklo had recognized Ujurak-moose the moment he’d appeared. He felt at peace. Their friend was still with them. “He set Chenoa free.”
Yakone turned away. “We’d better get moving.”
Toklo nudged him gently. “You still don’t believe?”
Lusa scampered around the white bear. “But you saw him with your own eyes.”
“I saw a moose,” Yakone grunted.
Kallik’s eyes flashed with amusement. “A very helpful moose.” She headed along the shore, Lusa on her heels. Yakone shambled after them.
Toklo dipped his head to the river. “Thank you,” he whispered, and hurried after his friends.
They trekked quickly past the log-rolling slope and followed the river. The shore became rocky, the river narrow and choppy. Foam flashed in the moonlight, and boulders sparkled. Before long, Toklo’s paws grew heavy. Every muscle ached. But they couldn’t stop yet. They had to get clear of the flat-faces and their firebeasts.
At last, the horizon paled as dawn pushed into the sky. Squinting, Toklo could make out the purple peaks of the mountain range Chenoa had shown him. The river chattered as it passed. It drew him on, pulling him toward the rising sun. He trusted the river. It carried a faint scent that tugged at his heart; it was leading him home.
As dawn melted the darkness and streaked the clouds pink, Toklo slowed. Lusa was limping. Kallik and Yakone tottered and tripped over the rocky shore.
“We should rest,” Toklo called.
Kallik turned, her gaze soft with relief. “I’ll make a nest near the trees.”
Toklo’s belly rumbled. “Let’s hunt first.”
Yakone headed for the river, wading into the shallows. Lusa bounded after him, splashing through the water.
“Don’t scare the fish!” Yakone warned. “Or they’ll hide in the deep channels.”
Toklo rumbled with amusement. The white bear thought like a brown bear now. He watched as Yakone focused on the fast-flowing water, frowning with concentration. Swift as a fox, he slapped his paws down with a splash. He hooked out a trout and flung it to the shore. He hunts like a brown bear, too. Toklo remembered his days ice fishing. When they each reached the end of their journey, they’d have more skills than any other bears.
Lusa scampered after the fish, nosing it away from the edge and killing it with a bite. Kallik waded into the river a few bearlengths downstream. Yakone called to her without taking his gaze from the water. “Here comes another one.”
Kallik stiffened, eyes fixing on the glittering stream, then pounced as Yakone’s fish reached her.
Toklo turned away from his friends and headed for the forest to hunt. The river might be his friend, but he wasn’t ready to get his paws wet again.
They slept through sunhigh, in the shade of the trees.
Toklo woke with a start. His pelt prickled. He sat up and glanced at the trees. Was something watching them? He got to his paws and shook out his pelt. He’d seen too many flat-faces; they’d set him on edge.
“Toklo?” Kallik lifted her muzzle, blinking away sleep. “Is everything okay?”
Yakone moved beside her. Lusa was still snoring.
“Everything’s fine,” Toklo promised. His fur lifted along his spine, but he forced it flat. “I’m just a bit spooked.”
Yakone opened one eye. “Let’s put some more distance between us and the flat-faces.”
Toklo glanced up through the branches. The sky had cleared to a brilliant blue. There was plenty of walking time before sunset.
Kallik nudged Lusa with her nose. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Lusa rolled on her back and stretched like a bobcat. “Can’t we sleep some more?”
“Toklo and Yakone think we should keep moving,” Kallik told her.
Lusa stumbled sleepily to her feet. “Okay.” She rubbed her nose with a clumsy paw.
Kallik winced as she hauled herself up.
Toklo jerked his muzzle around. “What’s the matter?”
“My flank got bruised trying to save the flat-face cub,” Kallik confessed. “Freeing the logs woke the pain.”
Yakone touched his nose to her side. “It feels a bit warm. Should we rest longer?”
Kallik shook her head. “I want to get as far away from those tree killers as I can.”
Toklo kicked the bracken they’d lined their nest with, sweeping the brittle stalks into the undergrowth. “Let’s leave as little trace as we can.” He couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched.
Lusa’s eyes widened. “Do you think the flat-faces will be hunting us?”
Kallik frowned. “They’ll never guess we set their logs free.”
“They’ll think the vine snapped by accident,” Yakone added.
“Let’s hope so.” Toklo padded between the trees and bounded onto the shore. The glare of the sun made him squint after the shade of the forest. Lusa bounced out beside him, Kallik and Yakone lumbering after.
Toklo headed along the shore. Wide stretches of boulders gave way, every now
and then, to pebbly beaches. The river curved through the trees, narrower and quieter now after the noise and mayhem of the logs and waterfall.
As they leaped a stream running across the shore, Kallik caught up to Toklo. “Your pelt’s ruffled,” she commented softly.
“I don’t like this part of the forest.” Should he tell her about the unease he’d felt since he woke?
“I know what you mean.” Kallik glanced into the trees. “I keep feeling like we’re being watched.”
“Me too.” Toklo’s heart lurched. He quickened his pace. The sooner they were out of here the better. A sharp, musky scent made him freeze. “What’s that?”
Kallik stopped beside him. Her nostrils twitched. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
Yakone joined them with Lusa beside him. “I smell trouble,” the white bear growled.
“Have you smelled that scent before?” Toklo searched his memory.
“Not exactly.” Yakone twitched his ears. “But it feels bad.”
Toklo swallowed. He knew what Yakone meant. Deep in his belly, he sensed danger.
Lusa’s eyes glittered with worry. “Where’s it coming from?”
“I don’t know,” Toklo admitted. “But the shore feels too exposed. We should head into the woods.”
Yakone backed away. “If we stay on the shore, we can see what’s coming.”
“And it can see us,” Kallik pointed out.
Toklo’s gaze flicked from Kallik to Lusa, then Yakone. “Let’s try the woods and see if the scent’s fainter there.”
Yakone frowned but didn’t argue. They headed for the trees. Toklo led the way, nostrils wide. Sap scent drowned the musky tang, but he still felt uneasy. He glanced behind. Kallik and Yakone were watching their paws as they lumbered between the trees. Lusa leaped roots and ducked brambles, pulling quickly ahead. “Stay close,” Toklo warned her. He scanned the undergrowth, trying to find deer trails that Kallik and Yakone could follow easily.