“My grandmother gave me away?”
“Not because she didn’t want you,” Anatoly rushes in. “She only did what she thought was best. You were spending more time as a human, so she thought you’d be happier living with a human mother. She chose your mamochka carefully. She watched her for months, collecting herbs for her medicines in the forest, and when your mamochka finally wandered close to the bear cave, your grandmother nudged you toward her.
“As soon as I found out what had happened, I tracked down you and your mamochka. I was determined to tell you both the truth, to take you back and raise you myself. I should have. But—” Anatoly sighs and shakes his head. “You were happy with Mamochka. You were loved. The bond you two had, right from the start, was so special and beautiful I didn’t want to interfere with it. I felt inadequate, unable to give you what your mamochka could. And no matter how hard I tried, the truth wouldn’t come. I’m sorry. Please don’t think I didn’t love you or didn’t want you … because that’s not true. I do love you and want you in my life more than anything.”
My heart softens, but another wave of anger flows back as I remember waking as a bear. “You could at least have told me about the curse,” I grumble. “You could have prepared me for this.” I stare down at my paws and shake my head.
“It’s no excuse, but I believed you wouldn’t change into a bear again. After you moved in with your mamochka, you stayed human, so I thought living with her, away from the forest, had cured you.”
“Clearly not.” I dig my claws into the ashy soil. “Do you know why I’ve turned into a bear now?”
Anatoly shakes his head. “I’ve never learned to control the changing. But I’ve learned to recognize the signs of it coming, and there are some patterns to it.”
“Like what?”
“When I was a fisherman, living with a human crew, I stopped changing into a bear. And when I was with your birth mother, Nastasya, I was always human. But after she died, and I was alone in the forest, I became more bear.”
“My grandmother told me that as a bear, my human memories would fade. Is that true?”
“Yes, but they never go away completely. Your grandmother is all bear, and even she remembers sometimes. When I’m a bear, my human memories come and go. But I’ve never forgotten you, or how you make me feel. I think even when specific memories fade, you remember something of the people you love. They pull you back, to your human life.”
“How often do you change now?” I ask.
“A few times a year. I’ve changed less since I’ve grown close to your mamochka. She makes me want to be human too.” Anatoly smiles his shy, lopsided smile and I notice his fur is patchy where his beard would be if he were human. “Perhaps both of us have more control over what we become than we realize.”
“But I didn’t want to be a bear at the festival, so why did I grow bear legs?”
“If you want a life as a human, you have to reach for them, let them into your world. I think we both struggle to do that sometimes. But it’s never as hard as it seems to ask for, or accept, help.”
I think back to the moment I fell from the ice fort, before I started turning into a bear. There were hands reaching for me, but I was too scared to take them. I thought they wouldn’t hold me. I was worried they’d drop me, or I’d pull them down.
I look at the ship in the distance, where Mousetrap, Yuri, Ivan, Blakiston, the house, and Elena are waiting for me. “That’s something I’ve learned on this journey. Without the help of my friends, I could never have gotten here and defeated Smey.”
Anatoly follows my gaze. “It sounds like in the last few days you’ve learned more than I have in a decade.”
“I’ve learned where I belong,” I whisper. My feet twitch with an overwhelming urge to run back to my friends on the ship, to thank them for helping me, then to run all the way home to Mamochka and Sasha. But first, I need to move the tree. Then I can ask it to save Sasha, and myself.
I rise to my feet and turn to Anatoly. “I need your help with something.”
“Anything.”
“Will you help me carry this tree to the house with chicken legs? It’s heavy, but we can do it. Together.”
The Lime Tree creaks and groans as Anatoly and I lift it onto our shoulders. It’s awkward edging down the steep slope on our hind legs, and almost impossible to balance. After only a few paces, Anatoly, who is walking in front, skids on loose rocks and pulls us down too fast. The last few leaves are whipped from the tree, and before they hit the ground, they turn into bullfinches that flap around in panic.
I struggle to keep a grip on the tree as my feet slide out from beneath me. I dig my claws into the ground, but they just rake through brittle gravel. We surge forward and fall backward at the same time but manage to keep hold of the tree as we shoot down the mountain like a sled over snow. Sharp rocks tear into my calves and I yell out in pain.
Anatoly desperately scrambles, trying to slow our descent, and my eyes widen with horror as I realize we’re heading straight toward one of the bubbling pools of mud at the base of the volcano.
Sulfurous fumes rise from its surface and thicken as we draw closer, until I’m struggling to breathe. The few short branches and roots left dangling from the tree reach for the ground in a vain attempt to slow us.
Though it rips and burns the skin of my back, I push my spine into the ground. But nothing works. We zoom down the slope, careening out of control. Blood pounds in my ears, and scorching air tears through my fur. I hold my breath and brace myself for a splash into boiling mud.
But something blocks out the starlight, and a cool, dark shadow falls over us. A jagged shape reaches down, dripping icy water. Long, clawed toes splay open, and relief washes over me as I recognize the outline of one of the house’s giant chicken feet.
It grabs the tree and sweeps it up. I keep my arms firmly locked around the trunk and am lifted too, my arms straining under the weight of my enormous body. I crane my neck to look for Anatoly and see him dangling from the other end of the trunk.
The next moment we’re flung onto the house’s porch with a crash and several bangs, squeals from Yuri, barks from Ivan, and whoops and applause from Elena. I roll onto my feet and try to get my bearings.
The tree is lying on the porch like a huge cut log. Anatoly is on the other side of it, swaying to his feet. I peer over the balustrade and my heads spins. We’re high above the smoking ground. The house’s legs are fully extended, its movements jerky as it picks its way across snow-streaked rocks between glowing fissures. “Please be careful.” I wince at the thought of the house burning its feet.
Elena throws her arms around my neck. “We saw you skidding down the volcano. I was so worried, and the house was bursting to help. Finally, it leaped off the ship to get to you.” Elena squeezes me so tight it hurts, but, relieved we’re all safe on the house together, I don’t pull away.
Mousetrap sprints along the balustrade and leaps onto my snout.
“Your pulled muscles are better, then?” I laugh.
“I was just a little stiff, from my war dance.” Mousetrap holds his arms out and spins around, like he’s showing off new clothes. “Look at my winter coat,” he trills.
“It’s beautiful.” I smile. “Though you’d look wonderful in any color.”
I glance back at the ship, alone on a moonlit, icy sea, and wonder what adventurers will find it next. Then I turn to the house. “Thank you, for coming to get us.”
The house smiles, with its windows and door and eaves.
“Is this the Lime Tree?” Elena stares at the tree on the porch. “What happened to it? Is it all right?” Then she spots Anatoly on the other side. “Oh! Another bear. Hello, bear,” she says nervously. “You look familiar …” She narrows her eyes. “Are you related to Yanka?”
“He’s my father,” I say, although I know Elena can’t understand me. I look at Anatoly and a smile lifts the corners of my mouth. Anatoly smiles back, the same shy smile he has whe
n he’s human, and a swell of love warms my chest, like a hot drink on a cold day.
The tree’s branches and roots flail between us. “Help me up.”
“Did the tree say something?” Elena kneels next to the tree and peers at its trunk.
“Help me up.” The tree groans, louder.
“I understood it!” Elena claps her hands together in excitement. “I understood the tree. Oh! Can you help it, House?”
Vines curl down from the rafters and thicken as they coil around the tree. Gently they lift it, like it’s no effort at all, and carry it up, over our heads. The tree sighs with satisfaction as it settles next to the chimney pot, and its short roots lengthen as they burrow between mossy tiles.
“Is the tree going to save Sasha?” Elena asks, and I flush with embarrassment, because I didn’t want to ask the tree for anything until it is safely back in the forest.
“You want me to save someone?” The tree’s branches elongate. New buds swell, and fresh leaves unfurl.
Hope flutters inside me. “I have a friend, Sasha, back in my village on the southern edge of the forest, who’s injured because of me. I was hoping you could help him make a full recovery.”
A branch dips and three leaves grow from it. They’re different from the other, heart-shaped leaves. These new ones are star shaped and patterned with dark red veins. They break free and float toward the floor. Three bullfinches swoop after them, and each one grabs a leaf in its beak before flapping away. “The birds will take the leaves where they need to go”—the tree rustles—“and your friend will be well again.”
“Thank you.” A huge smile spreads across my face. I feel light as the birds flying south. “Also, I wondered if … there’s a curse and …” All of a sudden, the thought of asking the tree to make me human again sends a quarrel of sparrows fluttering through my body. I frown, confused by the feeling.
“I’m sorry,” the tree creaks, “but I can’t undo old curses.”
Anatoly moves closer, until he’s standing by my side. “I’m sorry, Yanka.” He shakes his head sadly.
“No, it’s fine.” I sigh with relief, realizing what the fluttery feeling meant. I don’t want the curse to be broken. I don’t want to be only a human forever. I like being a bear too. I look at Anatoly, the truth sparking in my mind. “You said we have control over what we become.”
“Well, yes.” He nods. “But it’s difficult; it can be a struggle—”
“Some struggles are worth it.” I look down at my feet and feel a rush of affection toward them. They’re a gift from the forest, like Valentyna said. A reminder of all that’s magical and mysterious in the world. “I want to keep this gift and learn how to control it.”
Anatoly lowers his head to mine, until our foreheads are almost touching. I feel our fur merging together. “I’m so proud of you, Yanka,” he murmurs. “You really are the most precious treasure in the Snow Forest.”
“That’s very touching.” Mousetrap nips my ear. “Now, perhaps you could ask Anatoly where he keeps the key to that cod store we found on the roof of his cabin.”
“How do you know this is Anatoly?” I ask.
“I’m not sure why you humans find it so difficult to read souls.” Mousetrap leans over my eye and frowns. “Somebody’s external appearance doesn’t change what’s inside.”
“You’re right.” I nod. I recognized Anatoly as a bear, so I shouldn’t be surprised Mousetrap did too. I wonder if Mamochka would recognize me like this.
Yuri squeals as the house picks up speed. We’re heading south, toward the village, and for the first time since I grew bear legs, I understand that what my body looks like doesn’t change who I am or where I belong. Nothing will stop me from going home. Not even looking like a bear. Somehow, I’ll show Mamochka this is me.
The house draws alongside the crest of the Fiery Volcano. Already it looks smaller and less angry than before. The gently glowing streams of lava and the smoke pluming from cracks seem beautiful now that they aren’t threatening to burn my paws or snout.
I glance down at my fur. It’s as patchy as the forest surrounding the volcano, and raw streaks of scorched and grazed flesh glare back at me like they’re on fire. I wish Mamochka were here, with some of the goose fat and cucumber ointment she makes for burns. My smile widens as I picture her riding on a house with chicken legs, telling me how ridiculous it is.
Excitement and wonder burst through me. I’ve seen so many amazing things on this journey, made so many friends, and found a grandmother and a father. But above all, I’ve learned the importance of going home to the people you love.
“Where’s Blakiston?” I ask, suddenly realizing he’s not with us.
“He’s flown ahead, to wind-wash the smell of burning feathers from his wings,” Mousetrap trills into my ear.
“Oh no!” Elena gasps in dismay and her hands rise to cover her mouth. Ivan bolts to her, his ears pricked up, and Mousetrap scrambles frantically over my snout. I follow Elena’s gaze, and my heart stops. The house has passed the peak of the volcano, giving us a view of the other side.
The entire south slope is a smoking, black scar. The trees there must have caught alight during the battle with Smey, starting a blaze that has already swept for miles.
I stare at the path of the fire. It’s torn through the forest in a wide, curved line, leaving a charcoal-filled trail of destruction that runs all the way to the Silver Stream. On the shores of the river, flames flicker into the sky.
“What can we do?” Elena grips the balustrade tight and the house tilts and swerves in the direction of the blaze, then surges forward as it picks up speed. It gallops through the parts of the forest that have been spared by the flames, leaping and lurching as it rushes toward the Silver Stream.
I look from Elena to Anatoly, to Ivan and Yuri, desperately trying to figure out a way to stop the fire. All of them are standing by the balustrades, as still as figureheads, darkness and flames reflected in their eyes.
“No one can stop a blaze this size.” Ivan scowls at the fire ahead. “I need to warn my pack before it crosses the river.” Ivan throws a heartrending howl into the air that slices through the wind. Before Ivan’s howl finishes, replies surge toward us, eerie and echoing, all coming from the direction of the Blue Mountain. “Let me down, House,” Ivan barks. “I need to find my pack.”
The house slows as it approaches the Silver Stream and veers north to avoid the flames that flicker all along its banks. It steps into the river and sighs as its feet sink into the cool water. Then it dips down until its porch steps hover above the water’s surface, a few feet from the opposite bank.
“Are you sure you want to get off here?” My chest tightens. I don’t feel ready to say goodbye to Ivan.
“It’s time for me to return to my pack.” Ivan nods. “You should all stay near the river as you head back to the village. It’s the safest place for the house.”
“Will you return as pack leader?” I ask.
Ivan leaps onto the bank and turns back to me. A smile curves his lips. “I’ve realized being leader isn’t so important after all.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “But you were so sure that’s what you wanted.”
“Things change.” Ivan shrugs. “We defeated Smey, together, as equals. That’s shown me I don’t have to be leader to feel strong. I can be strong as part of the pack.” He grins, revealing his long, shining fangs. “I’ll see you all again.” He dips his head in a small bow, then disappears into the shadows.
I lift a paw as a gesture of gratitude and goodbye, but I know Ivan is right: I’ll see him again. I’m not sure when, but I’ll come back to the forest. My fur shivers with excitement at the thought, because it’s not only Ivan I’d like to see again. It’s my grandmother too. I only got to talk to her for a brief time, and I was so confused and emotional at having woken as a bear. I want to visit her again and get to know her properly, because having a bear for a grandmother is as magical as having Mamochka for a mother.
“My grandmother!” I exclaim. “Should we warn her about the fire too?”
Anatoly looks at the Blue Mountain. “She’ll see the fire coming from miles away and have plenty of time to retreat farther up the mountain, if she needs to. We should carry on south, to the village. They might need our help.”
The house surges up and Elena points downstream. Her face pales. “The fire is crossing the river. There, look.” She waves her finger frantically and I peer in the direction she’s gesturing.
Sparks fly across the river, and low shrubs burst into flames on the other side. Within moments the fire blazes up and away, following a long row of pines. The air glows orange behind thick clouds of smoke, and air rushes to fuel the rising flames.
“The wind is sweeping the fire toward the village.” Anatoly frowns. “So fast the villagers won’t have much time to prepare.”
The house takes off, picking up speed as it splashes through the river. Yuri squeals as he skids backward, and Elena grips the balustrade tight. “Faster,” she urges. “We need to get to the village.” Her eyes well with tears, and I realize Elena is worried about her mother, Valentyna, trapped in the village without her house.
Mousetrap’s claws dig deep into my ear, and wind gusts through my fur as the house sprints and splashes through the Silver Stream. The house’s chicken legs are long, its steps huge and bounding. We travel faster than I’ve ever moved before. Faster than a sled over ice, or a twenty-strong dogsled.
We speed past the Blue Mountain. I stare at it until my eyes blur, but I finally see the dark shape of my grandmother, walking calmly over snow, toward the peak. For a moment I think I see her stop and glance back at me with a smile on her face. But she’s so far away, and we’re traveling so fast, it’s probably only my imagination. Still, I smile back, just the thought of her safe like a blanket for my soul.
We speed on, my chest tightening as I watch flames leap from tree to tree, blazing through the forest. I can’t believe how far the fire has traveled already, and now that it’s reached the drier, snowless trees, it’s zooming, swifter than a storm wind. It will be at the village in no time.
The Girl Who Speaks Bear Page 18