by Erin Hunter
‘You really flew?’ Lusa was saying. ‘In the sky?’
‘Well, I wasn’t flying,’ Kallik explained. ‘I was being carried by a giant metal bird.’
Lusa’s eyes were enormous. ‘That must have been the biggest bird in the world!’
‘It was like a flying firebeast,’ Kallik said. ‘It had the same kind of smell, of burning and no-claws.’
‘I’ve seen lots of no-claws – I mean flat-faces,’ Lusa said. ‘Flat-faces were the ones who brought us food and let us live in the Bear Bowl.’
‘And they never hurt you?’
‘No, never,’ Lusa said, shaking her head. Then she paused, and something darkened in her gaze. She looked at Toklo, and he knew she was thinking about his mother, Oka, who was taken away by the flat-faces after she attacked one of them. ‘They . . . they fed us and gave us somewhere to live,’ she repeated.
Toklo’s muscles ached from all his swimming the day before in Great Bear Lake. Oka had come to him during the swim, Oka and his little brother, Tobi, who had died before they reached the Great Salmon River. They had saved Toklo from drowning in the waves and given him the courage to make it all the way to the island. After moons of believing that if he went out of his depth in water, his mother and brother would drown him so that his spirit could join theirs, they had shown that they loved him and wanted him to stay alive. He missed them even more now.
As he climbed, listening to the chatter of the she-bears, he let his head hang and stared down at his paws. He felt tired, though he would never let the others know that, especially Taqqiq.
‘Oomph!’ He walked right into the white bear, who had stopped on a wide, flat boulder.
‘Hey,’ Taqqiq snarled, flexing his claws. ‘Watch where you’re going. Are brown bears blind as well as stupid?’
Toklo took a step back, swallowing a snarl. The rocks here levelled off into a shallow ridge cresting the top of the hill before it began to slope down again. Ujurak was standing on one of the tall grey boulders, staring down at the landscape spread out before them. Toklo scrambled up to join him.
A rocky plain rolled out below them, shifting from grey stone to rippling green grass further out to the edge of the sky. Narrowing his eyes against the wind, Toklo spotted a few small lakes and darker green patches that were probably trees in the distance.
Ujurak lifted his black nose and sniffed the wind. A hawk soared overhead, far up in the thin trail of clouds that stretched across the bright blue sky. Toklo saw Ujurak watching it and felt a stab of alarm. What if the bear cub suddenly transformed and flew away? Please don’t do that, Toklo prayed. Then Ujurak lowered his muzzle, and Toklo let out a sigh of relief.
The other bears clambered up beside them. Toklo glanced at each one – a brown bear that wasn’t always a brown bear, black and white she-bears that couldn’t stop talking, and a white bear with wasps for brains. He watched Taqqiq out of the corner of his eye. What would he make of Ujurak turning into a bird, or a frog, or a mouse? Who knew? It was probably best Taqqiq didn’t find out.
Toklo shook his head to clear his thoughts and stared down at the landscape below. Ujurak was no doubt trying to read the ‘signs’ he kept talking about. One direction seemed more obvious to Toklo, since it led to a small lake surrounded by trees at the bottom of the hill, but in his experience that usually meant Ujurak would choose to go the opposite way.
‘That way,’ Ujurak announced at last. Sure enough, he pointed with his nose at the craggy rocks that led down to the open plain, which stretched far into the distance before reaching any water.
‘What?’ Taqqiq objected as Ujurak took a step forward. ‘Are you as dumb as a seal? There’s nothing in that direction for skylengths!’
‘Taqqiq!’ Kallik said, hunching her shoulders. ‘Don’t be rude.’
‘What’s a seal? Is it like a flat-face?’ Lusa asked curiously. ‘What’s a skylength?’
‘It’s the distance from here to the edge of the sky,’ Kallik said, nodding at the horizon ahead of them. ‘And a seal is . . . um . . . like a big, blubbery squirrel. Only better-tasting. And without any fur.’
Taqqiq was looking scornfully at his sister. ‘Look down there.’ He jerked his head at the wood below. ‘There’s a lake and trees. We could probably find prey. I’m starving.’
‘No,’ Toklo said, although his belly was rumbling. He was irritated that Taqqiq had the same instinct he’d had himself. He was nothing like this white bear! ‘Ujurak says we go this way.’
‘Who made him chief bear?’ Taqqiq snarled. ‘Why should I listen to a scrawny pile of brown fur like him?’
Toklo’s claws sank into the hard earth as he pictured slashing at this white bear’s tiny ears. ‘If you want to go your own way, that’s fine with me.’
Taqqiq’s eyes were like burning black stones as he glared back at Toklo. Toklo tried not to look at Taqqiq’s giant paws, or think about how the cub was already bigger than him. He needed to teach this fish-smelling cub a lesson.
‘I told you they wouldn’t want me!’ Taqqiq snapped at Kallik.
‘Well, stop being so disagreeable!’ she said. ‘They’ve been travelling together for moons – we should listen to them.’
‘I have been!’ Taqqiq growled. ‘But it’s past sunhigh, and we haven’t had anything to eat since we left the lake!’
‘I suppose the legends about the strength of white bears aren’t true, then,’ Toklo muttered.
‘Do you want to find out exactly how strong I am?’ Taqqiq snarled.
Toklo bunched his muscles and rooted his hind paws more firmly on the rock. A fight was just what he needed to show Taqqiq who was really in charge. ‘I’m not scared of you, fish-breath,’ Toklo growled.
‘You should be, tiny paws!’
‘I’ll claw your face off!’
‘Stop it!’ Ujurak barked.
Toklo shuffled his paws on the ground, a growl rumbling in his throat. Taqqiq’s fur bristled on his neck.
‘He’s a stupid badger-face,’ Toklo huffed.
‘Listen,’ Ujurak said before Taqqiq could snarl a retort, ‘it does make sense to rest before we go on. Let’s go down to the lake.’ He turned and began padding away down the rocks. ‘And after we’ve rested we can keep following the signs,’ he called.
Toklo couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Ujurak never agreed to leave the path when he suggested it. Not even if they’d been travelling for a whole day without stopping.
Taqqiq lifted his head and looked smugly at Toklo. Then he swung around and took off down the hill towards the lake. He was moving a lot faster now that he was getting his own way, Toklo noticed grumpily.
‘Come on, Kallik!’ Taqqiq called over his shoulder. ‘Race you there!’
‘Not fair!’ she cried. ‘You got a head start!’ She took a step forward, then turned and lowered her head at Ujurak. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured. With a swish of her stubby tail, she began running down the hill with Lusa close on her heels.
‘It won’t take long,’ Ujurak said to Toklo. ‘It does make sense to eat something while we can. I always forget to look for that practical stuff when I’m figuring out where to go.’
‘Oh, that’s reassuring.’ Toklo snorted. He followed the other bears down into the shade of the small wood. He could see Lusa with her head stretched up towards the branches, flexing her claws in a little dance. He guessed she was happy to be among trees again. The leaves whispered softly overhead, casting rippling puddles of shade and sunlight on the ground and across their backs.
It was much cooler once they were under the trees. Toklo made sure to check the bark of the trees for signs of any other grizzlies, but there were no clawmarks that he could see. No other bears lived here. He wasn’t surprised: the wood was too small to feed a full-grown brown bear for more than a half moon, and there was nothing else around.
Twigs and fallen leaves crunched gently under his paws. The soft sound of water lapping called to him from the lake ahead, so he pushed his way
through the undergrowth and padded down to the shore. Compared with Great Bear Lake, it was hardly more than a puddle: he could easily see to the far side, and the surface of the water was flat and shiny, not whipped into waves. Taqqiq and Kallik were already up to their bellies, splashing and rolling in the water. She cuffed a sparkling wave at her brother and he pounced on her.
‘Look out, I’m going to get you!’ he yelped.
He knocked her backwards into the water and she wrapped her paws around him, rolling until she was on top and could pin him down.
‘I win!’ she cried.
‘Never!’ he spluttered, surging up out of the water and throwing her off. She landed with a splash, her mouth wide open with amusement.
Toklo watched them playing. He wished his brother, Tobi, had been strong and that they could have played like this. Then his mother would have loved them both the same, and they would all still be together. For a moment he could see why Kallik had travelled so far and for so long, looking for her brother. If he thought Tobi was still alive, he’d have kept on searching for him too.
Then Taqqiq noticed Toklo watching them and he abruptly stood up, shaking his fur so that droplets rained down on the water around him. He pawed at his nose and waded back to shore. Kallik floundered in the lake for a moment, waiting for him to jump on her again. Finally she sat up and noticed he was gone. Blinking as water streamed off her muzzle, she stared after her brother with a confused look.
Lusa barrelled up to the lake and leaped in with all paws. ‘Whee!’ she yelped, disappearing in a glittering wave of water. ‘It’s amazing! It’s perfect! It’s really cold! Brrr! I’m getting out!’ She charged back on to the shore and shook herself vigorously. Drops of water spattered Ujurak and Toklo.
‘Hey,’ Toklo growled.
Lusa bounced around him like a jackrabbit. ‘Try it, Toklo! Your paws will feel so much better! And then so much colder! Brrrrr!’
‘Are there fish in there?’ Toklo called to Kallik. ‘Or did you great lumbering beasts scare them all off?’
‘Oops.’ Kallik looked worried. ‘I didn’t even think of that. Sorry!’ She lifted her front paws one at a time as if there might be a fish hiding under one of them.
‘Fish,’ Taqqiq scoffed. He lay down on a patch of grass under a tree, gazing at them all with narrow eyes. ‘They’re barely a mouthful for a real bear. What we need is a fat seal.’
‘Why don’t you go get one, then?’ Toklo snapped. ‘If you’re such a great hunter, surely you can find one?’
Taqqiq bared his teeth at Toklo, but Lusa nudged in between them, trying to draw Toklo’s attention back to the lake and Kallik.
‘Tell me more about seals,’ Lusa said to Kallik, who was wading back to the shore. ‘Do they taste like squirrels?’
‘Not really. A seal is like a great big fish, only much better.’ Kallik padded on to the stones and let the water stream from her fur, which was noticeably whiter. ‘They’re crunchy and chewy and delicious and I could eat nothing but seals for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. I wish I could catch one for you! I bet you’d love the taste even more than blueberries.’
‘More than blueberries!’ Lusa echoed. ‘Wow, they must be really tasty. Do you think there will be seals at the Place of Everlasting Ice?’
‘Of course,’ Kallik said. ‘That’s why it’ll be the perfect home for us.’
Trying to block out the nattering, Toklo took a long drink. He stared at the pebbles wavering below the surface, wishing he could see a flash of silver. Catching a fish right now would make Taqqiq look like a dopey squirrel for chasing away that bird. And maybe it would make everyone shut up about stupid seals.
But all he could see were tiny darting shapes no bigger than a claw, and the swirls of sand the other bears had kicked up as they jumped around in the lake. He’d have to sniff around the trees to see if he could find prey there instead.
His sharp ears caught a new sound – something nearly lost under the growling and babbling of his noisy companions. He lifted his head and froze.
‘What is it, Toklo?’ Kallik asked.
Lusa had been dabbling one of her paws in the water, but she stopped moving. Her ears, the biggest of any of the bears’, went up. Beside her, Ujurak glanced around, searching the bushes.
‘Shh,’ Toklo hissed.
‘Why?’ Taqqiq grunted. ‘I don’t hear anything.’
‘Anything but yourself,’ Toklo muttered. There it was again – a low moan, deep and guttural. This time Lusa heard it too. She gave Toklo a wide-eyed look. He nodded at a large clump of prickly bushes not far from the edge of the lake. He was sure that was where the sound had come from.
Lusa took a step back, her fur bristling along her back. ‘Should we run?’ she whispered.
It could be anything, Toklo thought. It could be a wolf like the ones that had chased them on the Sky Ridge. Or another enormous grizzly like Shoteka, waiting to attack them.
Then again, it could also be prey.
Taqqiq leaped to his paws. ‘Well, I’m not a frightened mouse, like the rest of you.’ He stomped over to the thicket and swatted aside the branches in his way.
‘Wait!’ Toklo barked, but it was too late. With his broad shoulders and sharp claws, Taqqiq cleared a path straight to the middle of the thicket.
And there, lying in a tangle of brambles, was an enormous white bear.
CHAPTER THREE:
Lusa
Lusa gasped and dug her front paws into the pebbles to stop herself from fleeing up the nearest tree. The full-grown white bears at Great Bear Lake had been huge, but this one seemed even bigger. Or perhaps she was just used to Taqqiq and Kallik’s size – which was still too big for a cub, in Lusa’s opinion. For a heartbeat she wondered if this was the bear she’d seen from the top of the tree, but that one had been a female with a cub, while this one was a giant male. A giant, scary male.
But the strange white bear didn’t leap up and attack them. He didn’t open his jaws and snarl at them with his enormous teeth. He whimpered with pain as he slowly scooted his head around to look at them. His dark eyes looked fuzzy and unfocused, as if he could barely see the cubs, and his fur was filthy and matted. He looked worn out . . . old and tired. His eyes drooped and his long blue-black tongue flopped out between his teeth as he panted and groaned. Streaks of mud had turned his white muzzle brownish grey.
Lusa felt a stab of pity for the old bear. She remembered the same dull, defeated look in the eyes of another bear: Oka, Toklo’s mother. This white bear didn’t have any fight left in him. Lusa hadn’t been able to do anything for Oka. She had lain beside her on the other side of the fence the night before the flat-faces took her away, but she hadn’t been able to touch her, or fetch food for her, or do anything to fill the gaping hole left by the loss of both her cubs. Maybe there was something she could do to help this bear.
She padded closer, nosing past Taqqiq. The white cub was staring in shock at what he had uncovered.
‘Lusa, be careful,’ Toklo growled behind her.
‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. She crouched beside the strange bear’s head and sniffed him. He smelled horrible, like rotting fish and hot, grimy fur. Lusa tried not to wrinkle her nose. She didn’t want to make him feel worse than he already did.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’m Lusa. Who are you?’
The older bear blinked at her. ‘I . . . I’m Qopuk,’ he wheezed. His eyes rolled sideways to stare at Taqqiq. The white cub shuffled his paws and backed away. Behind him, the other three bear cubs were peering into the thicket. Kallik edged forward first, but she stayed away from the big bear’s enormous paws. Each paw was nearly the size of Lusa’s head. If this bear had had any strength left, he could have knocked her out with a single blow, and he wouldn’t even have to try very hard. But he had no strength left. She could tell that from the scent of him, from his sunken frame and dull eyes.
‘What happened to you?’ she whispered.
Qopuk drew a l
ong, raspy, clattery breath, like claws scraping across bark. ‘Death,’ he grunted. ‘Death . . . so far from the ice.’
Lusa felt as though freezing water were running under her skin. ‘Death? What do you mean?’
‘I’m dying,’ Qopuk rasped. ‘All my life I wanted to get there, but now it’s too late.’
‘No,’ Lusa protested. ‘Don’t say that! We’ll help you. Ujurak knows all about herbs that will make you feel better, and I can fetch food for you. And some nice soft grass to lie on.’ She sniffed the crushed undergrowth beneath the old bear. It smelled like he’d been lying there for a moon.
‘It won’t help.’ The old bear’s eyes closed and he sighed.
‘But we can try,’ Lusa insisted. ‘What do you want?’
Qopuk tried to twist his head towards the lake, but his fur snagged in the brambles and he winced, then lay still. He opened his mouth a little and his tongue pushed forward again.
‘Water?’ Lusa guessed. ‘Ujurak, can you get him some water?’
Ujurak’s eyes were full of pain as he gazed at the wounded bear. Without a word, he turned and padded down to the lakeshore.
‘We should just let him die,’ Taqqiq growled. ‘He’d let us die if he had a choice.’
‘We don’t know that,’ Lusa pointed out. ‘And if there’s anything we can do to help him, we must do it.’
Taqqiq scratched the ground, leaving deep furrows in the dirt. ‘It’s not our problem,’ he snarled.
‘Toklo doesn’t mind if I help Qopuk,’ Lusa said challengingly. ‘Right, Toklo?’
The brown bear cub glowered at Taqqiq. ‘Do what you like,’ he growled. ‘I’m going hunting.’ He turned round and stamped off into the trees.
Ujurak came back from the lake, carrying a bundle of soaked moss between his jaws. He dropped it into Lusa’s outstretched paws.
‘Here,’ Lusa said, dribbling some of the water into Qopuk’s mouth. His jaws twitched open as she pressed the moss to his dry snout. He licked it gratefully, his tongue nearly brushing her paws. Lusa forced herself not to think about the giant teeth that were only a clawslength from her fur. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about big . . . giant . . . enormous teeth . . .