The Quest Begins

by Erin Hunter

  Nisa plunged into the water and dug her teeth into the loose skin at Taqqiq’s neck. Shivering with fear, Kallik watched from her island as her mother paddled strongly to a large, free-floating chunk of ice and dragged Taqqiq up onto it. He lay panting for a moment, then shook his head, sending out a spray of sparkling water droplets.

  “Come on, Kallik!” Nisa called. “Swim over to us!”

  “You mean get in the water?” Kallik gulped. “On purpose?”

  “You can do it!” her mother said encouragingly. “It’s not far.”

  Kallik sniffed the edge of the ice. The water smelled salty and fishy and very cold. She splashed a paw in the freezing water and drew back with a shiver. The only other times she’d been in water had been to splash through narrow channels between blocks of ice. This was really swimming, and she didn’t know if she could do it. It didn’t feel natural like walking on the ice—there was nothing to hold her up in the water. And she couldn’t help thinking of all the bear spirits that had melted into it. Would she be swimming in spirits?

  “Kallik, come on, hurry!” Nisa called again. “We have to keep moving toward the land.”

  Kallik knew she had to be brave. She couldn’t stay on her little island until it melted. She needed to be with her mother and brother, wherever they went. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaped into the sea with a giant splash.

  Sharp, salty water poured up her nose and she opened her mouth to gasp for air, but instead more water rushed in. Gagging and spitting, she swallowed what felt like half the ocean. Beating her paws against the current, she struggled to the surface and stuck her nose into the air, inhaling a quick breath before the waves swamped her again.

  I can do this, she told herself. I can swim over there because Mother is waiting for me, and Taqqiq needs to see that I am just as tough as he is.

  The force of the current was strong, trying to drag her back to her island, and she could barely see the edge of the ice in front of her as she paddled. Salty waves splashed in her eyes, and her sense of smell was overwhelmed by the sting of the sea in her nose. But she pressed on, keeping her mother’s face in sight. She couldn’t hear anything over the splashing of the waves, but she could see that Nisa and Taqqiq were both shouting encouragement. Finally she felt her mother’s teeth sink into her neck fur and drag her onto the ice.

  Gasping for breath, she shook herself as hard as she could and huddled closer to Taqqiq, who was lying flat on his belly again. It had been freezing in the water, but it was even colder now that she was back in the wind with wet fur.

  “Swimming is horrible!” Taqqiq whispered to her.

  “It’s worse than being chased by giant bears,” Kallik agreed.

  “Unfortunately,” said their mother, overhearing them, “we will have to swim to get to land.” They looked at her in horror. “It’ll be short swims, wherever we run into water,” Nisa explained. “We’ll rest in between as much as we can.”

  “Is it always like this?” Kallik asked. “Do you have to swim so far every ice-melt?”

  Nisa didn’t answer for a while. Then she touched her muzzle to Kallik’s. “No, it’s not always like this,” she admitted. “Usually we can get much closer to land before we have to start swimming. But we can swim, and we will. If you do as I say and stay close to me, we will make it to land soon.”

  Kallik pressed her nose to her mother’s muzzle, then reared up and wrapped her paws around her mother’s neck. “I will always stay close to you,” she whispered in her mother’s ear.

  “And always do what I say?” Nisa teased. “Can I have that promise on the Great Bear?” She prodded Taqqiq, nudging him to his paws. “All right, little cubs. See that large piece of ice over there? That’s where we’re going. Be brave, and move quickly.” She stood up, shaking herself off, and stepped gingerly down to the water’s edge.

  The chunk of ice they were on was not very large, and it rocked unsteadily below them as Nisa moved. Kallik dug in her claws, feeling a little seasick.

  “Whee!” Taqqiq spread out his paws to balance himself. “Come on, Kallik, this is fun. It’s kind of like riding on Mother’s back.”

  “Except if you fall off her back, you’re not going to drown,” Kallik pointed out.

  “We won’t drown,” Taqqiq said, padding to the edge and peering in. Nisa had slipped into the water and was starting to paddle ahead. “I’ll protect you, whatever happens. We may be small, but don’t forget there’s two of us.”

  “That’s true,” Kallik said, feeling a little better. She followed him down to the water and dabbed at it nervously with her paws. Taqqiq scrunched himself into a ball and leaped in with a huge splash, showering Kallik with water.

  “Hey!” she squealed.

  “You have to get wet anyway!” he called. “I’m just helping!”

  “I’ll help you!” Kallik spluttered, jumping in after him.

  She managed to splash him back, but then the current began tugging at her fur, and she had to paddle her front paws furiously to keep up with her mother. By the time they got to the next piece of ice, her legs felt as if they were going to fall off. She wondered if this was how Silaluk felt, racing around the Pathway Star forever and ever.

  Kallik gripped the ice with her front paws, churning her back paws in the water as she tried to shove herself up. A firm nudge from behind boosted her up and out onto solid ice; then Kallik turned around and sank her teeth into Taqqiq’s fur, helping to drag him out as well.

  Nisa pulled herself out beside them, looking pleased. “See? You’re swimming like seals already!” But Kallik noticed that her mother was shaking, and she wasn’t sure that it was just with cold.

  At least this piece of ice was much larger than the last one. Here they could walk for a while over the snow, which was easier than swimming. But the sky was cloudy and gray, and for once Kallik wished that the sun was shining, because the freezing wind seemed to tug at each one of her wet hairs with fierce little teeth. She kept her head bent low so that snow wouldn’t blow up her nose, and she pressed her flank to her mother’s to shield herself from the wind as much as she could. On her other side, Taqqiq pressed close, so they could share their body warmth.

  Kallik hadn’t even noticed when the sun had gone away, but now there were masses of clouds above them again. She could tell from the smell of them that they weren’t snow clouds; it was too warm for that, although she didn’t feel warm right now. Those were rain clouds, and if they opened up, things would get even worse. The only time Kallik had seen it rain, everything got very slippery, and with the ice already melting, she knew that walking would be much harder in a storm.

  The sun was beginning to set when Nisa paused at another wide channel of water. She sniffed the air and stared across to the blue-white sparkle of ice on the other side. To Kallik it looked skylengths away.

  “Do we have to swim again already?” she whimpered. “Can’t we keep walking along the ice?”

  “We have to go in this direction,” Nisa said. “The land is that way. Can’t you smell it?”

  Kallik tried, but the scent of the water was too strong. “But I’m so tired,” she protested.

  “Me, too,” Taqqiq complained. “I just want to lie here until I can feel my paws again.”

  “I’ll take you across one by one,” Nisa said. “Stay close to me, and I’ll help you.”

  Kallik knew she had to be brave. Her mother would have to make the trip three times to take them both across, and if she could do that, Kallik wanted to show that she could be strong, too.

  “You go first,” Taqqiq said, flopping down on the ice and resting his head on his paws.

  “Okay,” Kallik said. “I can do it, I know I can.”

  “I’m very proud of you,” Nisa whispered, her breath warm on Kallik’s ear. “Everything will be all right once we get to land, I promise.”

  Kallik and Nisa plunged in. Kallik let out a puff of glee at the giant splash they sent up together. She tried to co
py her mother’s graceful pawstrokes, gliding through the sea like her, but the water kept washing up her nose, making her cough and splutter.

  The ocean stretched away in every direction, dark and endless. The waves swelled around them so Kallik couldn’t see the ice they were heading for, and even her mother’s head vanished a few times. Her claws tingled with fear as a new scent filled her nose—a smell that reeked of blood and ripping teeth and cold menace.

  She spun in the water, batting frantically at the waves with her paws, trying to see what it was. There! A huge black fin was slicing through the water, bearing down on her much faster than she could swim.

  Nisa roared, anger and terror mingled in her cry. “Orca!” she bellowed. “Kallik, swim! As fast as you can!”

  Kallik flailed blindly, pushing with her paws as hard as she could, but there was nothing to press against here—no solid ice beneath her paws to lend her speed, no whirls of snow to urge her on her way. She was lost in the dark, cold water.

  More fins appeared behind the first.

  “Faster, Kallik!” Nisa roared. “Get out of here!”

  “Mother!” Taqqiq screamed from the ledge of ice behind them. “Kallik! What’s happening?”

  Nisa swam in a circle around Kallik, clawing at the killer whales. Kallik felt the water surge around her as the orca smashed into Nisa with their massive heads. Then their tails slammed into her mother’s body and spun her around.

  “Mother!” Kallik cried as the world flashed white and black around her.

  “Go!” Nisa butted Kallik with her head and turned to snarl at the whales again. Kallik caught a glimpse of a gaping jaw lined with yellow teeth and small, cold, black eyes.

  Whimpering with fear, Kallik swam and swam and swam. She didn’t know if she was still headed in the right direction or if she’d end up swimming out to sea forever.

  Suddenly her nose bumped into something solid. Her eyes flew open and she gasped. Ice! She’d made it to the other side! She dug her claws into the cold surface and thrashed her back paws in the water, trying to push herself up. But her limbs were so heavy and her waterlogged fur weighed her down.

  “Help!” she shrieked, clutching the ice. “Please, help me!”

  Like a spirit sent by the Great Bear, her mother appeared beside her with a whoosh of sharp-smelling water. Nisa ducked under the surface and shoved Kallik upward. With the extra boost, Kallik was able to scramble up to safety. Immediately she spun around, reaching for her mother’s paws.

  “Out, out, get out!” she screeched.

  But Nisa’s paws were already sliding back out of reach, into the water. Her mother was falling, falling away from her, and the churning water was rising to suck her down, and the fins were closing in.

  “Mother!” Kallik screamed. Nisa was still fighting, her claws leaving long gashes in the sides of the killer whales, but there were too many of them. The water that sloshed over the ice was pink now, staining Kallik’s paws, smelling of salt and blood and fear.

  Kallik lunged forward, stretching her muzzle over the water. “Mother! Grab on to me! I’ll pull you out!”

  An orca tail flicked out of the water and slammed into her. Kallik was knocked back onto the ice, crashing to the ground and sliding through the snow for several bearlengths. She lay there, too stunned to move. Beneath the ice, there was a hollow knocking sound, a roar cut off, the snap of teeth.

  When her ears cleared, she realized that she could no longer hear splashing or roaring. A deep, mournful silence hung over the water. The killer whales had gone. And so had Nisa.

  “Mother!” A voice sounded from far away. “Mother! Kallik! Mother!”

  Taqqiq! He was calling to them across the water. Kallik lifted her head, trying to see him. But the clouds were hanging low, hiding the cubs from each other’s sight. Kallik tried to climb to her paws and call back to him, but she was too winded. She couldn’t catch her breath to make a sound. I’m here, Taqqiq! I’m still alive!

  “Don’t leave me alone!” Taqqiq wailed. “Mother! Come back! Kallik, where are you?”

  Kallik squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself up. But her body would not do what she wanted, and her paws lay limp on the ice.

  The wind picked up, howling and shrieking and hurling freezing sleet against Kallik’s fur. Kallik heard her brother call a few more times, and then his voice started to fade. He was running along the edge of the far ice, disappearing into the snowy darkness. And there was nothing Kallik could do.

  She curled into a ball, letting the storm whirl around her, and slowly slipped into white nothingness.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lusa

  “Bet you can’t get up this high,” Yogi challenged, scrambling to the next branch.

  “I can, too,” Lusa retorted, digging in her claws and pulling herself up with her forelegs. Yogi was quite a bit bigger than her, but Lusa was determined to prove she could climb as far as he could.

  The sun shone through the leaf buds on the trees, casting green shadows on the bear cubs. Along the top of the wall, the usual crowd of flat-faces was pointing and exclaiming, and the scent of strange food drifted over from them. Below her Lusa could see King and Ashia snoozing in the shade. Every once in a while King would blink, shake his head, and glare up at them, as if he expected them to fall on his head.

  A shower of bark splinters rained down on Lusa’s shoulders as Yogi clambered higher. “I can see into the brown bear area from here,” he called down to her. “Oooh, I can see your favorite bear!”

  “I don’t have a favorite grizzly,” Lusa said. “I don’t like any grizzlies. They’re too big and they’re angry all the time.”

  “Especially Grumps,” Yogi agreed, nodding his muzzle toward the old male grizzly who lived alone on the other side of the Fence. The cubs had never talked to him, so they didn’t know his real name, but they called him Grumps because he was so old and grumpy. “He’s rolling on his back in the dirt. It looks pretty funny.”

  Lusa wanted to see. She tried pressing her hooked back claws into the tree trunk and wrapping her front paws around the nearest branch. From there she could swing herself up, but it took a lot of effort.

  “Hrrmph.” She heard a loud grunt from the ground, but she was too focused on getting her back paws onto the branch to look down.

  “HRRRRRMPH,” came the grunt again. Lusa peeked over her shoulder. Her father was standing on his back legs, reaching up the tree toward her.

  “It’s okay, I won’t fall,” she called. She tried even harder, grunting with the effort, and managed to wrap all her paws around the branch.

  “You’ll never get to the top if you climb like that,” King growled. “You’re going much too slowly.”

  “Well, I’m still learning,” Lusa replied breathlessly. She lay on her belly on the branch, letting her paws hang down while she rested for a moment.

  “Don’t be so timid,” he said. “It’s much easier if you climb the tree in quick bounds. Grab the trunk with your forepaws and push yourself up with your hind legs, like you would if it was lying on the ground.”

  Lusa thought it sounded more like a way to fall out of the tree, but this was her father talking. He only pawed out advice when it was something important.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “Safe!” King snorted. “Black bears are the best climbers in the forest. You listen to me, Lusa: Black bears don’t fall out of trees. Not even puny cubs.” He dropped back down to all fours and lumbered away, grumbling to himself, his ears twitching.

  Lusa looked up again, up to the top of the tree where the spindliest branches waved against the cloud-dotted blue sky. Yogi had gotten bored and was climbing back down, scratching the trunk to look for insects on his way.

  The best climbers in the forest, Lusa thought. We don’t fall out of trees. Feeling bolder, she scrambled to her paws and reached up to hook her claws into the bark. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her back paws into the tre
e and shoved herself up in a quick leaping bound.

  To her surprise, she landed almost a whole cublength up the tree. Excited, she tried the move again, and then again immediately after that, until she was racing up the tree. She didn’t even stop when she got to the highest point Yogi had ever reached. She kept going, pushing herself higher and higher, until she came to a branch and realized—there were no branches above her. She had reached the very top of the tree.

  The very top! Lusa sat on the branch and wrapped her paws around the trunk, panting with exertion and delight. She was up so high! Below her the other black bears were the size of caterpillars. She could see over the wall into the rest of the Bowl, to the brown bears on one side and the white bears on the other.

  But she could also see beyond the Bowl itself. There was a gray path winding around several enclosures, most of them surrounded by Fences like hers. Not far away she could see some small animals that looked a bit like flat-faces, but furrier and more agile, with long swinging tails. She saw one holding on to a tree branch with only one arm, dangling in the air as if it could hold on forever.

  Farther along the path she saw a large pool of water—more water than she’d ever seen in one place before. It made her wish she could leap into it and splash around. There were birds in the water, or at least she thought they must be birds, because they had wings folded by their sides, although their legs were so long and skinny that they were probably taller than she was standing on her hind legs. They were bright pink, with hooked bills, and some of them looked like they were standing on one leg. Maybe those ones only had one leg?

  A roar that didn’t sound bearlike drew her attention to an enclosure in the other direction, where large gray boulders formed a cliffside dotted with trees and thick bushes. She had heard the roar before, but she’d never known what kind of animal it came from. Now she could see that on one of the large flat rocks, a four-legged animal was lying in the sun, flicking its long tail. It was golden-colored, with jagged black stripes along its fur, and when it yawned she could see teeth as sharp as a bear’s.