“What did you eat?” Stellan asked.
“A bird accidentally dropped a fish. I ate that. That was all I had until the fish you gave me. Eventually this piece of jumble ice bumped up on a shore. And I had just enough energy to start walking. And … and here I am.”
Jytte touched the red band timepiece with her paw and felt a tremor pass through her. “It’s as if you have a compass watch in your head.”
“Maybe,” Third replied softly. “Maybe.”
Uluk Uluk spotted the tattered wings of the crows as the red band stained the horizon. The crows were the messenger birds of choice in Nunquivik. Before Uluk Uluk had become a hermit in Winston, he had preferred blackpoll warblers. Incredible flyers and navigators, these warblers outstripped the skills of the best navigators of all—the Nunquivik foxes. But the warblers had flown south and would not be returning until the Dying Ice Moons. Uluk Uluk had sent these crows to make sure that the cubs were on a direct track for the Ublunkyn and the Ice Clock.
The crows settled patiently a few feet away, perched on a trough.
“So?” Uluk Uluk said as he picked up a timepiece and began fiddling with it.
The largest crow stepped off the trough and hopped up to the bear. Uluk Uluk felt the eight dark pairs of beady eyes focused on his paws as he tinkered with a spring he had just extracted from the balance wheel.
“They stick to the route north and just east of Nevermoves,” the biggest crow cawed. The sound was scratchy, scratchy as a rusty ratchet. He always wanted to oil these crows when they opened their beaks.
Another crow cawed, “Tell him about the third cub.”
“Third cub?” Uluk Uluk repeated. “What’s this?”
“They picked up another cub.”
Uluk Uluk’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t say?”
“I do say!” The crow’s voice scraped the air. “Aren’t you going to pay us extra?” the crow asked, eyeing the spring.
“This will do you no good,” Uluk Uluk replied. “You wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“Are you insulting us?” asked the crow who perched next to the big one.
“No, not at all. I’ll find a finer piece of wire for your anting.”
The crows adored wire for poking in holes and picking out insects. The creatures would eat just about anything—which reminded Uluk Uluk of one of their more gruesome practices—picking out the eyes of newborn foxes. They loved kits’ eyes as much as voles. “No eye picking with the wire, though. Understand.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” the big crow said.
Liar, Uluk Uluk thought. But then again, he was a liar. The biggest liar of them all.
“You’re a Tick Tock,” Svenna whispered to the small cub huddled in the corner of her ice lock cell. Even whispered, the words seemed to scald the air.
The gauzy little bundle nodded.
“And you want your shadow back?” Again the cub nodded. “I don’t quite understand. If you get your shadow back, does that mean you will live again?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then why would you want your shadow back?”
“We all want them back.”
“All?” This stunned Svenna. Were there more cubs like this?
“Yes, there are … well, I can’t count that high. You see, we can only count to fifteen.”
“Why is that?”
“That is how many teeth there are on the escapement wheel.”
“Is that what you were doing, trying to escape?”
“Oh no! There’s no escape. Only terrible injuries.” The gillygaskin held up one forearm. There was no paw.
“If I’d survived, I would have been PIF.”
“PIF? What’s that?”
“Paid in full.”
“But what is paid in full?”
“My tribute payment. I would be released from the wheel.”
Svenna felt dread rising inside her. It took all the courage she could muster to ask the next question. “What exactly is the wheel?”
“The escapement wheel. It is where we bleed and die. Our tribute. The tribute of the Tick Tocks.”
Svenna staggered a bit. Great Ursus! she thought. What has become of our world? Our once noble bear world?
“But what are you paying tribute for?”
“The Grand Patek sacrifices us to the clock. That’s what prevents another Great Melting. The clock protects us bears, but it demands tribute.”
Svenna’s head swirled as a wave of nausea crashed over her. This was absolute insanity. But what did any of these bears know about honor?
“And had you survived the wheel, what would do afterward?”
“Who knows? Maybe be a low-level numerator.”
Hanne! Svenna thought. Hanne and her half paw.
“So you aren’t … dead? ”
“We are caught between earth and Ursulana. We are quivik. Not alive, yet not quite dead. We don’t have names. I mean, not real names like the ones our mums might have given us.”
“What do you call yourself, little one?”
“Juuls.”
“That’s a lovely name.”
“Still, even with names, no one knows us in Ursulana, the den in the sky where the spirits of bears go when they die. We are nothing. That is the other number you learn as a gillygaskin—zero.”
“You are not zero,” Svenna said forcefully. “I cannot bring your life back, but I can try, try my hardest, Juuls, to get you to Ursulana. You won’t suffer anymore. You’ll be able to play.”
“Play? What’s play?”
The words chilled Svenna to the bone. A cub who did not know about play? How freakish!
“Play is … is to roll in the snowdrifts, or slip down an ice slide, or dance under the lights of the ahalikki.”
“The ahalikki?”
“You don’t know about the beautiful colored lights of the ahalikki that fan through the skies like rippling rainbows?”
Suddenly they heard the footsteps of a guard. “How are you coming with those calcs, madam? Need more time?”
“Uh … perhaps,” Svenna said. The guard seemed not to see the gillygaskin. He was looking straight at the corner where Svenna’s parchment and quill were, right next to the cub’s pawless forearm. She didn’t understand it. The cub opened his mouth slightly and closed his eyes halfway. He was smiling. Yes, just the way little cubs often expressed happiness, and she could hear little squeaks coming from him too. She felt a twinge in her heart. She would do whatever it took to help this cub and the others.
In a place that was neither here nor there, in a place called quivik, a place of vapor swirling with the scented steam of the fire goblets, hundreds of little gillygaskins seemed to drift. Some lacked paws or feet, arms or legs. One poor soul lacked a head, or rather its head hovered just about its shoulders.
“It worked!” the gillygaskin replied, still smiling.
“You mean the guard didn’t see you?”
“No. But she did. The bear called Svenna did!”
“Then she can help us! You’ll go back?”
“I’ll try. But I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be in ice lock, and when she is out, well, you know her denmate is that she-bear Hanne who lost half her foot as a cub on the wheel and nearly died. It could be a problem. Hanne might have a sense about gillygaskins.”
“Oh, I think that’s just an old gilly tale,” said the nearly headless one.
“Perhaps, but I’ll go back. Do you know what she said?”
“What, Juuls?”
“She said, ‘You are not zero. I cannot bring your life back, but I can try, try my hardest, to get you to Ursulana … you’ll be able to play … ’ ”
“Play?” The word hummed through the vapors. “What do you think that is?” the other gillys murmured.
“I have no idea. But if she can get us to Ursulana … ” Juuls’s voice melted into a deep sigh.
The cubs traveled on. It was not easy. There were days when the sky thickened
with blizzards or fog and they lost track of the stars. But Jytte’s ice gazing had sharpened and she continued noting the changes.
The going was slow, as Stellan’s haunch ached from the toothwalker’s slashing tusk. And although Jytte had thought the wolf fangs had just gone skin deep, the claw must have grazed a muscle. They were both limping. In Jytte’s mind, the journey had been divided into two parts: before the wolf and after the wolf. And in Stellan’s mind, there was before the toothwalker and after the toothwalker. Neither cub ever complained, even though Stellan, in his own odd way, felt Jytte’s pain in addition to his own. Each wince was like a flinch in his brain.
They must have made some progress north, for it did seem like new country here. There was no open water, no inlets in sight. It was all ice—ice sometimes twisted into strange forms and figures. Some of the ice was crystal clear, and when the moonlight struck it, the shaft of light would break into different colors.
Third stopped abruptly, then stepped into a puddle of violet light. Next he placed his other foot in a puddle of blue light. “Look at this!” he cried with delight. Stellan began moving slowly through the radiant light puddles. “Caught in a rainbow!” he exclaimed.
“It’s so boring being white,” Jytte said. “Imagine if we could change our colors every day!” Jytte peered deeply into a green patch of ice. She suddenly had a staggering thought. Could this be klarken ice? The ice that Uluk Uluk had told them about? That would be the sure sign that they were entering the richest hunting grounds on earth. Had they actually made it to the northern hunting grounds? A flash of movement caught her eye. She glanced down and saw a seal swimming beneath the ice. Jytte gave a yelp, and, forgetting her pain, she bounced up on her paws and turned a somersault.
“What is it?” Stellan asked, alarmed.
“We’re here! Or almost.”
“How do you know?”
“This is klarken ice!”
Jytte and Stellan forgot their aches and pains and began dancing through the magic of the night, of the ice, of the nearness they felt to those great hunters and the possibility of finding their father.
Third sat down and crossed his legs, propping his chin on his forepaw as he regarded them. “I don’t understand. What is this klarken ice and why is it so important?”
“We’re going to find our father,” Jytte explained. “And we were told we would be getting close to the hunting grounds when we began to see the klarken ice. This is klarken ice. You still want to come with us, don’t you?”
“Of course. I certainly don’t want to go back to Taaka. Nobody has cared for me at all until you two came along. I feel The Belong.”
“The Belong? What’s that?” Jytte asked.
“I think it’s like love. But not quite the same.” Third looked back over his shoulder. “I think I am caught between The Belong and danger. But if I, if we, have The Belong, I think we can face the danger.”
The Belong. The words lingered in Stellan’s and Jytte’s minds. Was it a place? Or just a feeling?
The klarken ice did not diminish but went on and on. Yet there was still no trace of the great hunters.
The sealing was good. With the strong winds, the snow was often blown off the ice in great swaths, and the cubs could see the seals swimming beneath the klarken. But even full bellies couldn’t mask the concern that they were drifting farther from their father. Stellan had begun to wonder why there were no roarings in this region. If this was a place where the hunters gathered, why would they not celebrate with roarings?
On this particular day, the skies had darkened. There was a shift in the wind that seemed to resonate with a shift Stellan was feeling in himself as he gazed down at the red band timepiece.
“Seems like your plan is working out well, isn’t it, Jytte?” Stellan asked with a slight sneer in his voice.
“Why say such a thing?”
“It’s only a question, Jytte.”
“He’s just wondering,” Third added. “I was wondering too. I asked Stellan the same thing the other night.”
“Wondering what?” Jytte snapped. “And how dare you go behind my back, Stellan.”
“You were sleeping! You want me to wake you up every time I speak to Third?”
“I don’t like it when bears speak behind my back.”
“It wasn’t behind your back. You were asleep!”
“I wasn’t asleep this morning when you said that we should head a bit more west. But that is not what Uluk Uluk said. We need to keep east of Nevermoves. East!” She raised her voice.
Stellan felt anger swelling in him. “WEST!” he shouted back. “Just try it—west. We’re clearly not heading toward the hunting grounds. There’s no sign of them!”
“I’m not risking that. EAST!”
Third clapped his paws over his ears. He couldn’t stand it. He’d never seen the cubs fight before. Their faces became twisted and ugly. Their shouts scalded the air. He might have been back in the den with Taaka screaming at him. She often screamed at his brothers as well, even First, her favorite. She would slap them about, threatening to break their heads, tear out their claws. The horrible racket of that den, the sting of her swats all came back to him.
“STOP!” Third cried out. It was the anguish of his cry that stopped them. They looked at the cub. His paws were clamped over his ears. His eyes pinched shut for a moment, then he opened them slowly and looked from one cub to the other. “We have to stick together. We are all each other has.”
“But you know nothing, Third. I know ice.” Jytte’s words were directed at Third, but she glared at her brother. She couldn’t put up with this any longer. How dare they question her? How dare they try to keep her from finding her father? “EAST!” she shouted one more time, then bolted off, unable to stand it any longer.
“Jytte! Jytte!” Stellan called after her.
Suddenly, there was a deafening roar. The sky stirred with an odd color. Clouds streamed across the sky and a wind crashed down upon them. The blyndspryee! Stellan felt a thud against his chest. A blast of air had smacked Third against him. He clutched the little cub and opened his mouth to howl again for Jytte, but the howl was stuffed down his throat by the gusting wind. He began coughing. He dared not open his eyes, for the air had turned prickly with grit. He was accustomed to blinding snowstorms, but this was different. Where was Jytte? She was lighter than he was. Would she be blown to the Schrynn Gar, where she’d starve, scared and alone? He grasped Third harder, but his arms felt empty.
After what felt like ages, the roar of the blyndspryee began to diminish, until finally it was but a hoarse whisper leaving the gritty gray residue it had brought from across the Schrynn Gar. But for Stellan, the world was hollow. He stood up, shouting, bellowing his sister’s name. If only she had not stomped off at just that moment. And to make matters worse, he had been left with the red band timepiece.
The world seemed directionless to Stellan. It was simply a void without his sister. Once, they had called everything that was different Not Mum. Well, this world was now Not Jytte. Not Jytte! This was impossible. They had always been together—always. There was never a night they had spent apart.
“We must find her,” Third said. The little cub was pulling at his own ears, his eyes sliding back with terror. I caused this … This is my fault, Third thought.
“But where? Where do we start?” Stellan looked down at Third, whose white pelt was now dusky with the grit and dust.
Third said nothing but just began to walk. In a daze, Stellan followed the tiny cub. There was no hope of finding any tracks. The blyndspryee had erased every imprint and leveled any ice formations.
Jytte pulled herself out from beneath a low ice ledge where she’d eventually taken shelter once the wind grew too fierce. The snow was gritty under her paws. Her fur was gritty and had turned gray. “Stellan! Stellan! Where … where are you?” But there was nothing but a resounding emptiness, only the sound of her own voice smacking against the klarken ice.
&nbs
p; Fine, she thought. She’d be perfectly fine without her brother. How dare he doubt her? She would find her father on her own. He would recognize her instantly, of course. He would gather her into his arms. She would tell him about being an ice gazer. She might mention that Stellan was a riddler. She might. He’d ask where her brother and her mum were. And then because she was an ice gazer, she would lead him back to where Stellan and Third were. She’d have to explain about Third, but she was sure her father would understand. And then all of them would go to find Mum! But now she was tired and her shoulder was hurting her terribly. She had to take a little rest.
When she woke up hours later, a curious feeling came over her as she looked up at the sky. The stars were just where they should be. The Svree star pointing at Nevermoves, and the twin stars skipping between them, almost side by side. But we’re not side by side, she thought. The words were like a stab in her heart.
She closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She regretted everything she had said to Stellan and Third. She hated herself. Hated that she was so impulsive, hated the recklessness that had brought her to this desolate place in this unknown world. She even hated her stupid dream of meeting her father. Meeting him alone without her brother! How could she have ever dared to think of such a thing? She reached for the red band timepiece.
“Crow splat!” she muttered. Stellan had it. “Stellan!” she cried. She realized that the wind that had blown them apart had not been just any wind. It was the blyndspryee. She touched her head. There was a huge lump rising near her ear, and something sticky. She lowered her paw and saw a streak of blood. I must have hit my head. She recalled Uluk Uluk’s words about these freakish winds, the blyndspryee. You must grasp each other, clutch each other, for if you get separated, you might never find each other again.
“Oh no!” Jytte crumpled to the ground. She touched the lump on her head, then spied nearby a rock with a blood smear on it. Her blood! Wherever they had been before the blyndspryee, there hadn’t been any rocks. She must be some distance away from Stellan and Third. She could see the tops of two mountains. But were they mountains? They had the most bizarre shapes. Cones? Yes, the tops were like cones, and smoke was rising from them. Her mum had told her about such mountains. They were called volcanoes.
The Quest of the Cubs Page 11