by Erin Hunter
RETURN TO THE WILD #1
SEEKERS
ISLAND OF SHADOWS
ERIN
HUNTER
HARPER
AN IMPRINT OF HARPERCOLLINSPUBLISHERS
DEDICATION
Special thanks to Cherith Baldry
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One: Lusa
Chapter Two: Toklo
Chapter Three: Kallik
Chapter Four: Lusa
Chapter Five: Toklo
Chapter Six: Kallik
Chapter Seven: Lusa
Chapter Eight: Toklo
Chapter Nine: Kallik
Chapter Ten: Lusa
Chapter Eleven: Toklo
Chapter Twelve: Kallik
Chapter Thirteen: Lusa
Chapter Fourteen: Toklo
Chapter Fifteen: Kallik
Chapter Sixteen: Lusa
Chapter Seventeen: Toklo
Chapter Eighteen: Toklo
Chapter Nineteen: Kallik
Chapter Twenty: Lusa
Chapter Twenty-One: Toklo
Chapter Twenty-Two: Lusa
Chapter Twenty-Three: Kallik
Chapter Twenty-Four: Toklo
Chapter Twenty-Five: Lusa
Chapter Twenty-Six: Kallik
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Toklo
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Toklo
Excerpt from Seekers: Return to the Wild Book 2: The Melting Sea
Excerpt from Warriors: Omen of the Stars Book 5: The Forgotten Warrior
About the Author
Other Books
Credits
Copyright
Back Ads
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Lusa
Excitement tingled through Lusa’s paws as she padded down the snow-covered beach. Ice stretched ahead of her, flat, sparkly white, unchanging as far as the horizon. She didn’t belong here—no black bears did—yet here she was, walking confidently onto the frozen ocean beside a brown bear and two white bears. Ujurak had gone, but Yakone, a white bear from Star Island, had joined Lusa, Kallik, and Toklo. They were still four. And a new journey lay ahead: a journey that would take them back home.
Glancing over her shoulder, Lusa saw the low hills of Star Island looming dark beneath the mauve clouds. The outlines of the white bears who lived there were growing smaller with each pawstep. Good-bye, she thought, with a twinge of regret that she would never see them again. Her home lay among trees, green leaves, and sun-warmed grass, a long, long way from this place of ice and wind as sharp as claws.
Lusa wondered if Yakone was feeling regret, too. The bears of Star Island were his family, yet he had chosen to leave them so that he could be with Kallik. But he was striding along resolutely beside Kallik, his unusual red-shaded pelt glowing in the sunrise, and he didn’t look back.
Toklo plodded along at the front of the little group, his head down. He looked exhausted, but Lusa knew that exhaustion was not what made his steps drag and kept his eyes on his paws and his shoulders hunched.
He’s grieving for Ujurak.
Their friend had died saving them from an avalanche. Lusa grieved for him, too, but she clung to the certainty that it hadn’t been the end of Ujurak’s life, not really. The achingly familiar shape of the bear who had led them all the way to Star Island had returned with stars in his fur, skimming over the snow and soaring up into the sky with his mother, Silaluk. Two starry bears making patterns in the sky forever, following the endless circle of Arcturus, the constant star. Lusa knew that Ujurak would be with them always. But she wasn’t sure if Toklo felt the same. A cold claw of pain seemed to close around her heart, and she wished that she could do something to help him.
Maybe if I distracted him….
“Hey, Toklo!” Lusa called, bounding forward past Kallik and Yakone until she reached the grizzly’s side. “Do you think we should hunt now?”
Toklo started, as if Lusa’s voice had dragged him back from somewhere far away. “What?”
“I said, should we hunt now?” This close to shore, they might pick up a seal above the ice, or even a young walrus.
Toklo gave her a brief glance before trudging on. “No. It’ll be dark soon. We need to travel while we can.”
Then it’ll be too dark to hunt. Lusa bit the words back. It wasn’t the time to start arguing. But she wanted to help Toklo wrench his thoughts away from the friend he was convinced he had lost.
“Do you think geese ever come down to rest on the ice?” she asked.
This time Toklo didn’t even look at her. “Don’t be bee-brained,” he said scathingly. “Why would they do that? Geese find their food on land.” He quickened his pace to leave her behind.
Lusa gazed sadly after him. Most times when Toklo was in a grouchy mood, she would give as good as she got, or tease him out of his bad temper. But this time his pain was too deep to deal with lightly.
Best to leave him alone, she decided. For now, anyway.
As Star Island dwindled behind the bears, the short snow-sky day faded into shadows that seemed to grow up from the ice and reach down from the sky until the whole white world was swallowed in shades of gray and black. When Lusa looked back, the last traces of the hills that had become so familiar had vanished into the twilight. Star spirits began to appear overhead, and the silver moon hung close to the horizon like a shining claw. The bears trekked between snowbanks that glimmered in the pale light, reaching above their backs in strange shapes formed by the scouring wind.
“It’s time we stopped for the night,” Kallik announced, halting at the foot of a deep drift. “This looks like a good place to make a den.”
“I’ll help you dig,” Yakone offered. He began to scrape at the bottom of the snowbank.
Lusa watched the two white bears as they burrowed vigorously into the snow. This would be Yakone’s first night away from his family, away from the permanent den where he had been raised. Yet he seemed unfazed—enthusiastic, even, as he helped Kallik carve a shallow niche that would keep off the worst of the wind. The white bears’ heads were close together now as they scraped at the harder, gritty snow underneath the fluffy top layer. Yakone said something that made Kallik huff with amusement, and she flicked a pawful of snow at him in response.
Lusa turned away, not wanting to eavesdrop. A pang of sorrow clawed once more at her heart when she spotted Toklo standing a little way off, watching the white bears without saying anything. After a moment he turned his back on Kallik and Yakone and raised his head to fix his gaze on the stars.
Looking up, Lusa made out the shining shape of Silaluk, the Great Bear, and close to her side the Little Bear, Ujurak. Seeing him there made her feel safe, because she knew that their friend was watching over them. It helped to comfort her grief.
But there was no comfort for Toklo. All he knew was that his friend, the other brown bear on this strange and endless journey, had left them. His bleak gaze announced his loneliness to Lusa as clearly as if he had put it into words.
“We’re here, Toklo,” she murmured, too faintly for the brown bear to hear. “You’re not alone.”
She knew that Toklo had been closer to Ujurak than any of them; he had taken on the responsibility of protecting the smaller brown bear. Toklo felt like he failed when Ujurak died, Lusa thought. He’s wrong, but how can any bear make him understand that?
Kallik’s cheerful voice sounded behind her. “The den’s nearly ready.”
Lusa turned to see the white she-bear backing out of the cave that she and Yakone had dug into the snow. Kallik shook herself, scattering clots of snow from her fur. “Are you okay, Lusa?” she asked. “You look worried.”
&
nbsp; Lusa glanced toward Toklo, still staring up at the stars. “He’s missing Ujurak. I wish I knew what to say to him.”
Kallik gazed at Toklo for a moment, then shook her head with a trace of exasperation in her eyes. “We’re all missing Ujurak,” she responded. “But we know that he’s not really dead.”
“Toklo doesn’t see it like that,” Lusa pointed out.
“I know.” Kallik’s voice softened for a moment. “It’s hard out here without Ujurak. But think what we’ve achieved together! We destroyed the oil rig and brought the spirits back so the wild will be safe. Toklo should remember that.”
“Toklo just remembers that Ujurak gave his life for us.”
While Lusa was speaking, Yakone emerged from the den, thrusting heaps of newly dug snow aside with strong paws. Kallik padded toward him, then glanced back over her shoulder at Lusa.
“Ujurak has gone home,” she said. “He’s happy now, with his star mother. There’s nothing for Toklo or any other bear to worry about.”
Lusa shook her head. It’s not as simple as Kallik thinks, she told herself. And not as simple as Toklo thinks, either. He might not be here on the ground with us, but I think we’ve still got a lot to learn about Ujurak.
Movement from the other bears disturbed Lusa, and icy trickles of cold probed her fur. She let out a small grunt of dismay and wrapped her paws over her snout. She wanted to sink back into sleep, as if she were letting herself slip into a warm, dark pool. Waves seemed to lap around her, luring her to sink deeper and deeper.
“Lusa!” A paw prodded her sharply, and she forced her eyes open to see Kallik’s face looming over her. “Lusa, wake up!”
Faint light was seeping through the entrance to the den, and Lusa realized that morning had come. Yakone and Toklo had already abandoned their sleeping places, just leaving scoops in the snow shaped like their curled-up bodies. Lusa stretched her jaws in a massive yawn, stumbled to her paws, and followed Kallik out into the open. Yakone was standing just outside the den, while Toklo was a few bearlengths away.
“Sorry,” Lusa mumbled. “It’s the longsleep again. It’s so hard to stay awake.” All her instincts told her that she should sleep through the cold, dark months of the suncircle. Her appetite had waned, especially when there was nothing to eat but greasy seal meat, and she seemed to sleep more and more deeply. Lusa longed for the days to start stretching out, for more daylight to travel and hunt by. She couldn’t think of anything else that would keep her awake.
“Try rubbing your face with snow,” Yakone suggested. “That should wake you up.”
Doubtfully, Lusa scooped up a pawful of snow and rubbed it over her muzzle and into her eyes. The icy sting helped to revive her, though her legs still felt heavy and clumsy.
“Thanks, that’s a bit better,” she told Yakone.
“We’ll have to hunt before we go much farther,” Kallik said. Her belly rumbled as she spoke.
Toklo gave a grunt of agreement. “I suppose there are seals around here,” he said.
“Yes, it shouldn’t take long to find a hole,” Yakone put in. “You can leave it to me and Kallik.”
Lusa winced. That was the wrong thing to say to Toklo. The brown bear hated feeling dependent on anyone else for food or shelter. She glanced apprehensively at the brown bear, half expecting him to growl an angry retort at Yakone, but Toklo said nothing. He glared briefly at the white male, then swung around and headed away from the den. Kallik and Yakone shared a quick glance, then followed, and Lusa brought up the rear, still struggling to shake off sleep and make her sluggish paws obey her.
Before they had traveled many bearlengths, they left the snowbanks behind and reached an area where the ice was flatter and clearer and they could see as far as the distant horizon. The dark hump of another island lay in front of them, too far away for Lusa to make out any details.
“Over there!” Yakone called, pointing with one paw.
Following his gaze, Lusa saw the dark patch of a seal hole in the ice. Kallik and Yakone were already heading toward it.
“We’ll soon have a seal,” Kallik promised as she settled down beside Yakone at the edge of the hole, their pelts brushing.
Toklo watched them and stood fidgeting for a few moments. “They could take all day,” he grumbled at last. “I’m going to look for another hole.”
Lusa trotted after him, casting anxious glances back at Kallik and Yakone; her belly churned at the thought of getting separated in this unfamiliar place, but she didn’t want Toklo to think he had to hunt alone. To her relief, Toklo spotted another seal hole while Kallik and Yakone were still in sight, and he flopped down at the edge of the black circle of water with a grunt. Lusa crouched down a little way off, wishing she didn’t feel so useless.
I’m not good at this sort of hunting, she thought sadly. And I can’t even talk to Toklo. He’d be angry with me for making noise and warning the seals.
Sighing, Lusa tucked her paws underneath her belly and resigned herself to waiting. Sleep crept up on her again, as if she were plunging slowly into deep mud. She jerked back to wakefulness, her heart pounding, at the sound of Kallik’s voice.
“Hey, Toklo! Lusa! Yakone caught one!”
Lusa opened her eyes to see Kallik bounding across the ice with Yakone following more slowly, dragging a seal in his jaws.
At the same moment, the water in the hole where Toklo was waiting swirled and bubbled, and Lusa caught a glimpse of a seal’s nose popping above the surface. Toklo flashed out a paw, but the seal plunged down again before he could grab it.
Toklo let out a roar of rage. Springing to his paws, he rounded on Kallik. “I nearly had it! Why did you have to make all that noise?”
Kallik halted, looking puzzled. “Sorry,” she said. “But there’s no need to get angry. Yakone has a seal. There’s plenty for all of us.”
Toklo bared his teeth in a snarl. “You don’t ever waste prey!” he growled.
Lusa rose to her paws as annoyance sparked in Kallik’s eyes. “Please don’t argue—” she began.
Both bears ignored her.
“It’s a waste of prey to kill two seals when one will do,” Kallik snapped.
Toklo opened his jaws to make an angry retort, but he was interrupted by Yakone, who padded up and let his prey drop to the ice at Kallik’s paws. It was a big, plump seal, with enough meat on it to feed all four of them.
“Here you are,” Yakone said. “Let’s eat.” Suddenly he seemed to become aware of the tension between Kallik and Toklo, and he glanced from one to the other uncertainly. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Kallik replied, glaring at Toklo as if she was daring him to contradict her. “Great catch, Yakone.” She crouched down on the ice beside the seal carcass and tore off a mouthful of flesh.
For a moment Lusa thought that Toklo was going to refuse his share. Don’t be so stupid, she thought, with a pleading glance. What does it matter who catches the prey?
“Come on, Toklo,” she said aloud, taking a bite in her turn. The seal meat was too rich and greasy for her; her belly was craving nuts and berries. But the long moons of journeying had taught her not to be fussy; bears had to take food where they could find it. It’s been so long since I had proper black bear food; I’ve almost forgotten what it tastes like. “Thanks, Yakone,” she mumbled around the mouthful.
Toklo hesitated a moment more. Then, to Lusa’s relief, he stepped forward and bent his head to tear at the seal. “Yeah, thanks, Yakone,” he grunted, as if every word were being dragged out of him. “It’s a good catch.”
The tension faded as the four bears ate.
But it’s not over, Lusa thought. Toklo will have to learn to get along with Yakone. If he doesn’t, how will we travel together? Will we have to split up? Oh, Toklo, don’t make me choose between you and Kallik!
CHAPTER TWO
Toklo
The seal meat in Toklo’s belly felt heavy as he hauled himself up. Studying Yakone, he coul
dn’t decide whether the white male’s contented expression came from being full-fed, or whether he was feeling smug that he had caught the seal.
I would have caught one if it hadn’t been for Kallik.
“We ought to head for the island over there,” Yakone said, jerking his muzzle toward the distant smudge on the horizon. “I’ve never been there myself, but some of the Star Island bears have visited it. We might pick up some prey.”
“Great!” Kallik agreed. “It’ll be good for Lusa to get onto land for a bit, too,” she added with an affectionate look at the black bear. “She can dig down and find some leaves and roots.”
Yakone set off, taking the lead without even a glance at Toklo, who bit back a snarl that rose in his throat. “Ignore me, why don’t you?” he muttered to himself as he followed.
His belly churned with misery and resentment as he padded across the ice. Everything had changed; everything felt wrong. He was fed up with snow and ice and the waste of endless white that stretched around them in every direction. He longed for forests with tall trees and deep undergrowth, and warm air full of the scents of prey. He wanted long days of sunshine, or even cloud and rain, rather than brief moments of daylight where the sun barely peeped over the horizon.
And instead of Ujurak we have this white bear with us.
Somehow Toklo had never minded taking direction from Ujurak. Almost from the beginning he had realized that the small brown bear knew more than he did about certain things, in particular which way they needed to go. Even though he had protested some of Ujurak’s weirder decisions, his friend had never been wrong. Except that at the end of their journey, Ujurak had been killed in the avalanche. Had he known all along that this was his destiny, that this was waiting for him when they reached the end of their quest?
Toklo felt as though every hair on his pelt, every muscle in his body, were groaning in pain because Ujurak had left them. He tried to tell himself that Ujurak wasn’t really dead, that he had returned to his BirthDen among the stars. But it didn’t help.