by Erin Hunter
‘Stop! Get off her!’ Kallik roared. The beast didn’t seem to hear. It rolled a few more paces, and Kallik couldn’t see Lusa any more. Had it crushed her under its massive black paws?
‘Lusa!’ Kallik wailed.
She spun around, calling for Ujurak and Toklo, but the brown bears were too far away to hear. Kallik didn’t know what to do. Should she chase after them? There wasn’t time. Lusa needed help now. There was a harsh scraping noise, and the firebeast started rolling forward, heading out of the line towards the trench. As the beast lumbered away, Kallik saw Lusa’s limp body lying in the dirt. No-claws were jumping out of the other firebeasts and running towards her.
She tore across the bare earth, roaring at the top of her voice. The no-claws took one look at her and started running in the other direction. That’s right, she thought. Fear my teeth! And my claws! I won’t let you hurt my friend!
She skidded to a stop beside Lusa. Her heart lurched when she saw how still the little cub was. Blood puddled around her friend’s paws, and her eyes were closed. Kallik crouched closer, trying to listen for a sign of life. Was that . . . was that a soft breath? Kallik prayed to Nisa and all the ice spirits, hoping there were still some in the sky to help her. Please save her. Lusa’s done nothing wrong. She’s a good, kind bear. Please let her live.
Lusa let out a tiny whimper. She was alive! Kallik sprang up and carefully fastened her teeth in the scruff of Lusa’s neck. She hated moving her when she was so hurt, but the no-claws were already creeping back towards them – slowly, as if they thought Kallik might not notice.
Kallik took a step back, and then another, dragging Lusa along as gently as she could. Lusa whimpered again, sending claws of agony into Kallik’s heart. I’m sorry, Lusa. I’m trying not to hurt you. She was surprised by how heavy the black bear was. She always looked so tiny next to the other cubs. But Kallik had gone only a few steps, and already her legs were shaking with the effort. How would she get Lusa to safety on her own?
Plus she still had to frighten off the no-claws. She let go of Lusa for a moment and bellowed at them, sending them stumbling backwards. But not far enough . . . they seemed more confident now and came forward again, pointing and chattering to one another. Why couldn’t they just leave the bears alone?
Desperately, Kallik grabbed Lusa’s scruff and dragged her another few steps. Her jaw ached, and she winced every time Lusa’s body bounced over the uneven dirt and rocks.
Suddenly a no-claw broke away from the others and came running at her. He was waving something long and silver – longer than a firestick, but Kallik didn’t know what it was. He moved faster than she expected, darting forward while she was looking down at Lusa.
‘Get away from them!’ Toklo bellowed, charging up behind Kallik. He leaped at the no-claw with his teeth bared, knocking him to the ground. Toklo reared up on his hind legs over the no-claw and opened his jaws wide to roar his fury. The no-claw scrambled away and fled, leaving the silver stick where it fell.
Toklo roared again, and this time there was an answering call from Ujurak. The other brown bear came bounding up on Kallik’s other side and galloped at the crowd of no-claws. With screams that sounded like bird cries, the no-claws scattered, most of them running for the river while others leaped inside their beasts.
‘Help me!’ Kallik called to Toklo. He ran over to her and skidded to a halt, staring down at Lusa.
‘Is she alive?’
‘Barely,’ Kallik said. ‘We have to get her out of here.’ She fastened her teeth in Lusa’s scruff again and pulled. Lusa let out another soft whimper without opening her eyes. Kallik let go of her and shuffled her paws. ‘I’m afraid that I’m making her injuries worse.’
Toklo paced around Lusa, growling. ‘There must be another way to move her,’ he said. ‘Maybe . . .’ He stopped and crouched low to the ground. Inching forward, he gently worked his nose under Lusa’s body, then the rest of his head.
Kallik realised that he was trying to get Lusa on his back so he could carry her. She slid her paws under Lusa and helped to keep her steady until Toklo had crawled halfway under her. Very slowly, he rose to his paws. Lusa was draped across his back like a white bear cub resting on her mother. Kallik had a vivid flash of Taqqiq riding on Nisa’s back as the three of them padded across the ice.
But Lusa was more than half Toklo’s size. She must be very heavy on his back. Kallik pressed close to him, making sure Lusa didn’t slide off.
‘Are you sure you can carry her?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Toklo rumbled stubbornly. He took a wavering step forward, then another and another.
‘Ujurak!’ Kallik called, and he came bounding up after them. She didn’t have to say anything; he went instinctively to Toklo’s other side. Together they tried to take a bit of Lusa’s weight, pressing their fur close to Toklo’s. Their paws padded in a steady rhythm as the cubs hurried away from the no-claws and into the woods.
Kallik felt her shoulders relaxing as the shadow of the trees fell over their group. ‘Hey, look over there,’ she said, spotting a track that cut through the trees. ‘I see a path. It might be easier to follow that.’
‘It’s a flat-face path,’ Toklo spat. He turned in the other direction and stumbled over a fallen tree. Lusa’s limp body slid sideways and nearly fell off.
‘Toklo!’ Kallik said, catching the black bear cub and rebalancing her. ‘Be smart! The path will be clearer, and you’ll be able to walk without falling over anything.’
Toklo growled, but he didn’t argue any more as Ujurak led the way on to the winding trail. It slanted up over a rise and then down beside a gully where the trees were thinner. As they struggled forward, heavy clouds rolled in, casting a dark greenish grey light over the sharp-edged peaks above them.
‘Where are we going?’ Kallik asked, panting.
‘As far away from the flat-faces as we can get,’ Toklo answered. He was breathing heavily, and his words came in short bursts. ‘We can’t go back to the river. Too many flat-faces. We’d never make it.’
Kallik’s ears twitched. ‘I think I hear water,’ she said, and all three bears stopped to listen. She tried to smell it, but it was hard to pick out above the powerful scents of clay, river grime and blood that clung to their fur.
‘There must be a stream down there,’ Ujurak said, nodding down into the gully. A glimmer of water trickled at the bottom, nearly hidden by the undergrowth.
They staggered down the scrubby earth and pushed through prickly thornbushes until they found the stream. Toklo began to follow the stream uphill, lowering his head and using his broad shoulders to shove aside the branches in his way.
As he stepped into the stream to get around one gnarled, crooked tree trunk, his paws slipped on the wet stones. For a heart-wrenching moment Kallik thought Lusa was going to tumble off his back and crash down the hill. But Ujurak jumped in the way and nudged her into place, her tiny paws dangling limply against Toklo’s thick fur.
The stream was fast-flowing and clear as it rushed down the gully, splashing over the roots of the bushes. They pushed their way up as the sky grew darker and a drizzly rain began to fall on them. Kallik couldn’t see any more trees over the top of the gully, only grey sky. The water gushed around her muddy white fur, surprisingly strong. It smelled of snow, but it also had an undercurrent of a darker, bitter scent, like the islands in the river.
Kallik’s paws stung as sharp pebbles stabbed her with every step. Her fur felt sticky and heavy, and she could barely keep her eyes open. After the long swim the night before, hardly any sleep, and the encounter with no-claws this morning, she wasn’t sure how much further any of them could walk.
Toklo was struggling beneath Lusa’s weight. His head was bent, and he stared at the ground as he walked. The little black bear still hadn’t woken up, and her blood was leaving matted trails through Toklo’s fur.
The gully ended abruptly at a small waterfall. A cold spray of water soaked their fur as they looked up the s
heer rock wall in front of them.
‘Oh, no. Do we have to go all the way back?’ Kallik murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the long walls of the gully behind them.
‘I think there’s a way up over here,’ Ujurak suggested.
He led the way as they scrambled over the boulders, hooking their claws in the scraggly bushes to pull themselves up. Kallik climbed behind Toklo, reaching up to help him balance and keep Lusa in place when he shifted his weight. Her paws itched at how agonisingly slowly they had to move, and her heart pounded every time Lusa’s paws started to slide towards her.
Finally they reached the top, where Ujurak was waiting to guide Toklo over the edge. Kallik blinked the rain out of her eyes and gazed at a steep rise of wet black rocks that loomed ahead of them. Her heart sank as she thought of struggling on in this weather, with their paws aching and Lusa bleeding to death.
‘I see a cave!’ Ujurak cried, bumping her side with his muzzle.
Kallik lifted her head and spotted the dark opening in the rock ahead of them, overlooking the stream a few bearlengths before it cascaded into the waterfall and the gully below. She hoped the cave was empty. She didn’t have enough strength left to chase off any other animals who might be sheltering there.
Following Ujurak, she padded out of the rain. The cave was dry, and big enough for all of them. Its cold stone walls were covered in patches of moss and messy remnants of birds’ nests. Toklo collapsed to the sandy floor as soon as he stepped inside. Kallik and Ujurak gently slid Lusa off him and on to the hard sand.
Toklo bent over Lusa, sniffing her. Ujurak crouched on her other side, studying the wide gash in Lusa’s back leg and the bleeding scratches in her side. All of them were covered in mud from nose to tail.
Toklo looked up at Kallik, his eyes bleak. ‘I know this smell,’ he said. ‘My brother, Tobi, smelled like this before he died.’
Kallik shook her head. They couldn’t lose Lusa, not here, not like this. ‘But . . . we brought her so far,’ she whispered. ‘You carried her all this way . . . and she came so far by herself . . .’ She knew that what she was saying didn’t make sense. A bear could die at any moment, especially on a journey as dangerous as this one. And the gash in Lusa’s leg looked as bad as the wounds on Nanuk after the metal bird crashed.
But it still shouldn’t be Lusa. It couldn’t be Lusa. The little black bear had come further than any of them: from a life in the Bear Bowl to being in the wild. It wasn’t fair.
‘I know this smell,’ Toklo said again.
Kallik lay down next to Lusa and snuggled close to her, ignoring the sticky warmth of the black cub’s blood trickling from her cuts and grazes into Kallik’s fur. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘No, Lusa. You can’t die.’
‘She isn’t dead yet,’ Ujurak said quietly. ‘Come on, Toklo. We’ll go look for herbs. I’m going to try to heal her.’
Toklo followed him without arguing. Left alone in the cave with Lusa, Kallik listened to the patter of raindrops and the blowing wind outside. She wanted to have hope, but part of her knew that Toklo was right. She knew this smell too. It was the same smell Nanuk had before she died.
‘Kallik!’ Toklo called from outside the cave.
She pushed herself upright again and dragged her paws to the mouth of the cave. Toklo and Ujurak were staring up at the low-hanging clouds above them. The mist had parted for a moment, revealing sharp black peaks looming overhead.
Kallik turned to look back down where they had come from. They were much higher than she’d realised. Far below, the Big River twisted across the landscape like a flat brown snake.
All around them, dark wisps of smoke hung in the mist, as if they’d risen from the rocks themselves.
Toklo’s dark eyes met hers. ‘We’re on Smoke Mountain.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Lusa
Fluffy, sun-filled clouds scudded across the bright blue sky, carried by the warm breeze. Leaves rustled in the trees, and the scent of blueberries and pears hung in the air. Far in the distance, the chatter of flat-face voices sounded like laughing birds.
Lusa blinked. Bark scraped under her paws, and she twisted around to see that she was perched on the highest branch of a tree.
A very familiar-looking tree.
Lusa caught her breath. She had seen the winding stone paths below her before, and the enclosures full of odd-looking animals. The funny ones were called monkeys, and the leggy pink birds were flamingos.
She was sitting in the tallest tree of the Forest, back in the Bear Bowl.
Quickly she scrambled off the branch and climbed down the tree. Every bump and twist of the branches and bark seemed to fit naturally into her paws. At the bottom of the tree she jumped off and turned round.
She was surrounded by black bears. Not just any black bears – her family.
‘Lusa!’ Yogi cried. He charged forward and knocked her over. They rolled on the grass, batting at each other with their paws. He felt heavier to Lusa, but she was bigger now too. She ducked under one of his paws and popped up behind him, tumbling him on to his back.
‘Ha!’ she cried, pouncing on him triumphantly. ‘I win!’
‘No fair!’ Yogi said. ‘You used wild bear tricks on me.’
Lusa shrugged. ‘I’m a wild bear now,’ she said. ‘I’m allowed to.’
‘You are a wild bear,’ Stella said admiringly, poking Lusa in the side with her nose. ‘You even smell like a wild bear.’
‘Do I?’ Lusa asked. She didn’t know her smell had changed.
‘And you weigh as much as four wild bears,’ Yogi protested, wriggling underneath her. Lusa hopped off and poked him playfully.
‘Oh, little blackberry,’ Ashia said, pacing up and burying her nose in Lusa’s fur. ‘We miss you so much.’
‘I miss you too,’ Lusa said, cuddling close to her mother. ‘The wild is so big! You’d never believe it!’
‘I know it is,’ Lusa’s father, King, rumbled. He’d been born in the wild. He stalked in a circle around Lusa and Ashia, sniffing suspiciously. Ashia ignored him, licking Lusa’s ears.
‘You’re so thin,’ Lusa’s mother fretted. ‘What have you been eating? Do you get enough sleep?’
‘Not nearly,’ Lusa admitted. ‘But I’ve met the most wonderful friends. Yogi, guess what? I’m travelling with grizzlies!’
His mouth dropped open. ‘No way! Brown bears? And they haven’t eaten you yet?’
‘No, they like me!’ Lusa said. ‘And they’re not that bad, actually. Well, they don’t smell as nice as black bears.’ She leaned into her mother, inhaling the warm honey-berry-milk scent of her. ‘And guess what else? My best friend is a white bear! She’s not nearly as grumpy as the ones in the Bear Bowl. I like her very much. We’re going to the Last Great Wilderness.’
Suddenly Lusa stopped. The bears around her seemed to freeze, and even the wind fell still. She blinked, looking around at their staring faces.
‘Except . . . I’m not going to make it,’ she whispered. She knew what was happening. She wasn’t really back in the Bear Bowl.
She was dying.
There was a pause as the other bears gazed at her. Finally King shook his greying pelt. ‘You’d better make it,’ he said sternly. ‘I won’t have the legends say that a brown bear and a white bear got to the place where the spirits dance, but the black bear gave up halfway!’
‘Legends?’ Lusa echoed.
‘Stella tells stories about you all the time already,’ Yogi chimed in.
The she-bear nodded. ‘You’re much more interesting than my “Old Bear in the tree” story,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe you really escaped! King thought you were dead.’
‘But I knew you weren’t,’ Ashia said, nuzzling Lusa.
‘I’m sorry, Mother,’ Lusa said. ‘I think I am.’ She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the leaves and feeling the wind brush her fur. ‘I’m going to join the bear spirits in the trees.’ She fought to sound brave. ‘I must be here to say goodbye
to you.’ She hoped her tree would be something big and beautiful, maybe with blossoms on it, like the one she’d seen when she first reached the wild.
King growled, but it was Ashia who spoke.
‘No, little blackberry,’ she said. ‘It is not your time yet.’
Lusa felt the vision wobble, as if the Bear Bowl might disappear if she closed her eyes for too long. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘I can feel them calling me – the tree bears.’
‘Don’t listen to them!’ Yogi blurted. ‘Don’t you go to them, Lusa! Tell them you’re not ready yet!’
‘There’s something important you still have to do,’ Ashia said.
‘Me?’ Lusa asked. ‘What is it?’
‘You must save the wild.’
Lusa gazed up at her mother, then at the other bears. They were watching her intently, as if they all knew what that meant.
‘I don’t understand,’ Lusa said. ‘Save the wild? From what? I’m only looking for a place to live safely with my friends.’
‘No,’ Ashia said, shaking her head. She stepped away from Lusa. Her eyes were sad but hopeful. ‘You must save the wild.’
‘Wait,’ Lusa said. The bears and the Bowl behind them were starting to fade and get fuzzy. ‘Don’t go yet. Tell me what that means! I don’t understand!’ She tried to force her eyes open, to keep her family in front of her, but finally she had to blink.
When she opened them again, the Bear Bowl was gone. The sunshine, the warmth, and the breeze were gone. Yogi, Stella, Ashia and King – all gone. Lusa was lying on damp, scratchy sand. Stone walls curved overhead. The sound of rain reached her from somewhere nearby, mingled with the dark smell of smoke and snow.
Ujurak was bending over her. Lusa felt a pang of longing for her family. She missed cuddling with Ashia, playing with Yogi, listening to Stella’s stories – even getting growled at by King.