by Erin Hunter
“I’d better move,” he muttered.
Peering around, he saw a dark tunnel leading away in both directions. The sides were lined by flat pieces of wood, and more thick strips of wood supported the roof, though where he had been lying the wood strips had fallen away. The harsh tang of firebeasts was stronger than ever down here.
“Flat-faces!” he said with a snort of disgust. “This is one of their places. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.”
In one direction the tunnel sloped upward, giving Toklo hope that it would soon lead to a way out. He began to pad along it, his paws unsteady at first until his muscles loosened up and the throbbing in his head began to die away.
His mouth felt as dry as a shriveled leaf, and in the dim light he spotted droplets of moisture clinging to the walls of the tunnel. Stretching out his tongue he licked some of them, wincing at the harsh taste that reminded him of firebeasts.
I’d give anything for a long drink of clean water!
The last of the light faded completely as he moved away from the hole, leaving him in total darkness. He felt a stab of fear at the thought of stumbling around in the pitch-black tunnels until he was too weak to go on, but he forced it down.
There must be a way out!
His hopes were raised when he felt a faint breeze blowing into his face, and a glimmer of light showed in front of him. Pain stabbed through his muscles as he broke into a shambling run, only to halt in frustration when he came to a place where the tunnels forked. A trickle of light came from a narrow crack in the roof, just enough to show him the two passages leading away from him. One looked bigger than the other, and still led upward; that was where the breeze was coming from. Toklo plunged into it, almost certain now that he was close to the surface and a way out.
But the tunnel went on without a break, farther and farther into the darkness. The upward slope leveled out, and the passage seemed to grow narrower, so that Toklo kept bumping into the walls. Bruised and confused, he was finding it harder and harder to make his paws move.
“I’ve got to sleep for a bit,” he told himself, with a pang of fear that he might never wake up. “Then I’ll feel stronger, and I’ll soon find a way out.”
But as he slumped to the floor and huddled against the passage wall, he had to admit that he didn’t really believe it.
A scratching noise woke Toklo. He started up, his heart thumping. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was. Then he realized that he could see: A thin ray of light angled down from a gap in the roof. The sight brought back the memory of his fall and his struggle through the tunnels. He had no idea of how long he had been sleeping.
In one direction the passage stretched away into darkness. In the other it was partly blocked by a pile of rocks and earth. The scratching noise was coming from the other side of the blockage.
“Kallik? Lusa?” Toklo’s voice was hoarse. “Is that you?”
There was no reply. Despair surged over Toklo. For a moment he had been certain that his friends had found him.
Scratch. Scratch.
Toklo froze. If it wasn’t Kallik and Lusa on the other side of the rockfall, what was it? He tried to sniff it out, but the harsh firebeast tang overwhelmed everything.
Scratch.
Toklo shivered at the sound of small, scrabbling claws. What sort of creature lives here in the dark?
Then he shook his head, annoyed with himself. Stop being ridiculous! You’re still a strong brown bear, even if you are underground. And the tunnel’s a tight fit, so whatever’s there is probably smaller than you.
Hunger was grumbling in his belly. Water flooded his jaws at the thought that the unseen creature might be prey. He began scrambling over the rockfall, flinching as the sharp stones bit into his pads, and let himself slide down on the other side.
Something white flickered in the near darkness. Toklo made out the shape of an Arctic hare, limping away from him as if it was sick or injured.
It probably fell down here, just like me, he thought, launching himself after it.
His scrapes and bruises, and the suffocating dark of the tunnels, made his movements stiff and clumsy. The hare let out a squeal of terror and dove away down the passage, but there was just enough light for Toklo to pursue it, guided by its pale pelt. He swiped at it with a paw, missed, and forced his aching legs into a leap that brought him down on top of it. Scrambling up, Toklo kept one paw firmly clamped down on the hare, but it was dead, its neck broken.
“Call yourself a hunter?” Toklo muttered, glad that his friends hadn’t seen the awkward catch. Then he crouched down beside his prey and devoured it in a few ravenous bites. He didn’t let himself think about the possibility that it could be Ujurak. If Ujurak decided to visit him down here, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come in the shape of prey, not when Toklo had no other source of food.
The hare meat seemed to lie heavily in Toklo’s belly, but the food refreshed him, and his legs felt stronger as he set out again along the passage. Blundering along in the darkness, he realized that the tunnel was rising again. He gradually became aware that he could hear something beyond the padding of his own paws: a low, rumbling sound, like distant thunder, except that it grew louder and softer again, then died into silence, without any pattern that he could work out.
Suddenly Toklo realized what he was hearing.
Firebeasts!
Somehow he must have found his way back to the Black-Path that he and the others had crossed before he fell down the hole. By now the sound was almost overhead.
More light was leaking into the tunnel from a jagged hole a few bearlengths ahead of Toklo. Padding along until he stood underneath it, Toklo saw that another rockfall had opened up a gap, breaking away some of the wooden strips that shored up the roof. Beyond it he could see the night sky. The gap looked too small for him to squeeze through, but Toklo’s paws were tingling at the thought of climbing back into the open air.
I can’t take another pawstep down in these horrible tunnels! Not without doing my best to get out.
Clambering up on the pile of earth and rocks that had fallen from the roof, Toklo reared unsteadily onto his hindpaws and sank the claws of his forepaws into one of the wooden strips. Grunting with effort, he hauled himself up and thrust his head and then his shoulders through the gap.
A thundering roar sounded as he broke out into the open, and blinding light angled over him. Firebeasts were sweeping up and down the BlackPath; he had surfaced a paw’s width from the edge.
But Toklo couldn’t wait for the noise and light to die away. The wood he was clinging to wobbled under his weight. He had to use all his strength to force his way out of the hole before it collapsed. Sharp rocks and splinters of wood dug into his sides as he heaved himself upward. His hindpaws scrabbled for a grip on the wood, and he groped with his forepaws at the edge of the hole.
“Nearly there …” he panted.
Then he heard the roar of another approaching firebeast. It grew and grew, louder and louder, until it seemed to fill the whole world. Its glaring eyes were fixed on Toklo, and its round black paws pounded the BlackPath.
A shudder ran through the wooden strip that was supporting Toklo. He let out a roar of alarm as it gave way, and he crashed back into the tunnel in a shower of earth and rocks. Pain clawed through Toklo’s head, and he choked on soil. Debris was pinning him to the floor of the passage.
As his senses spun away, he remembered how Oka had buried his brother, Tobi, under sticks and earth.
That’s the right way for brown bears, he thought muzzily. Maybe this is how I’m meant to die after all….
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kallik
Kallik halted, angling her ears forward. A faint roaring seemed to be coming from farther down the tunnel. “I can hear firebeasts!” she exclaimed.
“Then we must be close to the BlackPath!” Though it was too dark for Kallik to see the small black bear, Lusa’s voice betrayed her excitement. “And that’s not far from w
here Toklo fell in!”
“Let’s hurry,” Yakone’s deeper voice rumbled.
Kallik strained all her senses as she bounded down the tunnel. She hated the dark passages more and more with every breath she took. She had never felt so far from her mother or the endless sky. But she refused to give up. Somewhere in the darkness Toklo was lying injured, or searching desperately for a way out. She wouldn’t abandon him.
Just ahead the passage divided once again, but this time Kallik had some sound to guide her, and she made for one of the openings with scarcely a heartbeat’s hesitation.
“Yes!” Lusa panted, scurrying just behind her. “I can smell new dust this way. Some of the rocks must have fallen.”
Kallik drew in the air, though she hardly broke stride to check the scent. “You’re right,” she replied. “And I think there’s a trace of bear.”
“Toklo!” Lusa exclaimed happily. “We’ve found him!”
Kallik wasn’t so sure, but her hope mounted as the sounds of firebeasts and the new scents grew clearer. A cold wind was blowing down the passage into their faces. This was surely the way out—and somewhere close by there was a bear.
It has to be Toklo! It has to!
Now faint light was filtering through the passage from somewhere up ahead. Drawing closer, Kallik saw that it came from a ragged hole in the roof, above a mound of earth and stones. Dust still hung in the air, catching in her throat.
“What happened?” she asked hoarsely. “Where’s Toklo?”
“Toklo!” Yakone let out a full-bodied roar. “Toklo!”
“Look!” Lusa darted forward, and started scraping soil from the bottom of the mound.
Kallik stared at her in surprise for a moment, then realized that Lusa was uncovering a patch of brown fur. “Toklo!” Lusa gasped. “He’s buried!”
Lusa whimpered as Kallik came to scrape beside her. “Oh, spirits, don’t let him be dead!” said Kallik.
Kallik’s heart thumped so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest. Her paws flung soil and pebbles to one side, uncovering more of Toklo’s pelt. Working together, she and Lusa gradually uncovered Toklo’s body, while Yakone climbed the mound of debris beside them and poked his head out of the hole.
“The BlackPath is just here,” he reported, his voice almost drowned by the roaring of a firebeast. “And the hole should be big enough to get Toklo out.”
Kallik finished brushing earth gently away from Toklo’s muzzle. His eyes were closed, and at first she thought he was dead. Then she saw the grizzly’s breath stirring the dust on the floor where he lay. “Lusa, he’s breathing!” she exclaimed. Her legs felt shaky with relief, and she had to pause for a moment. “Wake up, Toklo,” she urged him. “It’s us. We’re here!”
Toklo grunted, as if he had heard Kallik and was trying to respond, but he didn’t open his eyes or try to raise his head. His pelt was still clotted with soil, and he was bleeding from countless small cuts.
“How are we going to get him out?” Lusa asked, gazing up doubtfully at the hole where Yakone was still peering out. “He’s so heavy.”
“Yakone and I will manage,” Kallik replied. “Yakone, let Lusa climb out first; then you and I will lift Toklo.”
Lusa looked as if she was about to protest, but then seemed to accept that she was too small to lift a brown bear. After hesitating briefly she scrambled up the mound of debris and over Yakone’s shoulders, to disappear through the hole.
Her voice came floating down to Kallik. “It’s so good to be out of there! Quick, get Toklo out while there are no firebeasts coming.”
Yakone followed her out, his body blocking the light from the hole for a few moments. Kallik could hear him grunting and puffing with the effort of dragging himself through the gap. A light rain of soil pattered around her; then light filtered down to her again, and she looked up to see Yakone’s head outlined against the night sky as he gazed down at her.
“Can you lift him where I can reach?” he asked.
Kallik began working her shoulders underneath Toklo’s unconscious body until she could balance him on her back. At first she thought that his weight would pin her to the ground, but after taking a deep breath she straightened her legs and hauled him up the heap of rubble, every pawstep an effort. Yakone stretched down with one paw and hooked his claws into Toklo’s pelt. Leaning farther over at a precarious angle, he sank his jaws into Toklo’s shoulder.
“Push!” he urged Kallik, the word choked out around his mouthful of fur.
Kallik heaved upward, almost losing her balance as the mound of earth and stones started to give way underneath her. Suddenly she felt Toklo’s weight grow lighter, and she stretched upward to give him a final push as Yakone hauled him through the gap and out onto the surface.
“You did it!” Lusa squealed excitedly.
Kallik scrambled up the disintegrating pile and launched herself at the edge of the hole. Her forepaws sank into snow; she felt herself start to slip, but then Yakone grabbed her pelt in strong jaws and yanked her upward. With one last frantic scrabble Kallik heaved herself through the hole, feeling splintered wood raking along her sides. Then she was standing shakily on the surface beside the BlackPath, taking in huge gulps of the freezing night air. The icy wind that probed at her fur felt wonderful after the stifling darkness of the tunnels.
“Thank the spirits!” she exclaimed.
Lusa was bending over Toklo, and she looked up anxiously at Kallik. “He still won’t wake up,” she said.
“Give him time,” Yakone replied. “He needs to rest. We’d better get him away from this BlackPath before the no-claws spot us.”
Glancing around, Kallik spotted a rocky bluff a few bearlengths away, overhung by thorn trees. “That would be a good place,” she pointed out.
With Yakone’s help, she managed to drag Toklo across the snow and into shelter. Lusa padded alongside, her eyes wide with worry. The brown bear was limp, showing no signs of waking. But Kallik could still see the faint movement of his chest that told her he was breathing.
At the foot of the bluff the ground fell away into a hollow, with only a light covering of snow over tough grass and lichen. Kallik and Yakone tugged Toklo into the deepest part, out of the worst of the wind. The sound of the firebeasts sank to a distant rumble.
“You stay here with him,” Yakone suggested. “I’m going to hunt. Food will give us all more energy.”
“Okay.” For the first time Kallik realized how hungry and thirsty she was; she had cramps in her belly, and her jaws were so dry it was hard to speak. Toklo was right: They had to eat. They couldn’t worry about every piece of prey being Ujurak. Ujurak wouldn’t want them to starve.
As Yakone climbed back to the top of the hollow and disappeared, Kallik licked up a few mouthfuls of the powdery snow, then settled down beside Toklo, pressing close to him to keep him warm and feeling the steady beating of his heart.
“I don’t think he’s badly hurt,” she murmured to Lusa. “Just a few bumps and scrapes. He’ll be fine when he wakes up.”
Lusa still looked anxious. “I hope so.” She sniffed at one of the scratches on Toklo’s shoulder and saw the bleeding had already stopped. “I wish Ujurak were here. He would know what to do for him.”
Kallik was shaken once again by a sharp pang of loss as she remembered Ujurak’s knowledge of herbs, but she made her voice sound confident as she replied. “Even Ujurak couldn’t do anything for Toklo while he’s sleeping. Besides, Toklo is strong. He’ll be fine, Lusa; you’ll see.”
Lusa nodded, but Kallik could see she wasn’t convinced. She curled up on Toklo’s other side, and soon her rhythmic snoring told Kallik she was asleep.
Kallik tried to stay awake until Yakone came back, but her eyes were heavy, and her muscles ached from the long trek through the tunnels and the struggle to escape. A sound startled her; she jumped to her paws, heart racing, to see Yakone dragging an Arctic fox over the rim of the hollow. Behind him the sky grew pale toward dawn, wit
h one lone star spirit left to look down on them.
“How’s Toklo?” Yakone asked as he dropped his prey at Kallik’s paws.
“I—I’m not sure.” Kallik scuffled her paws in shame. “I must have fallen asleep.”
Turning to Toklo, she saw that the brown bear was stirring. He let out a grunt of pain, and his eyes flickered open. He gazed at Kallik and Yakone.
“Are you spirits?” he muttered. “Have you come to take me to the river?”
Kallik exchanged an alarmed glance with Yakone. “It’s us, Toklo,” she said. “Don’t you recognize us?”
Toklo raised his head and let it flop down again. “I was buried,” he went on. “Sticks and earth … that’s the right way for brown bears.”
“Toklo!” The sound of his voice had roused Lusa; she sprang up with a cry of joy. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”
Toklo didn’t reply. Blinking in confusion, he gazed from Kallik to Lusa and back again, but he still didn’t seem to know who they were.
Cold fear gripped Kallik’s heart. He must have hit his head, she thought. “I’m Kallik,” she prompted him. “And this is Lusa.”
At last recognition flowed into Toklo’s eyes, but it was followed by a terrible grief. “Then you’re dead, too,” he murmured. “And we’re here together in the place of the spirits. I’m sorry you had to die.”
“Toklo, we’re not dead,” Kallik assured him.
“Then why did they bury me?”
“You fell into tunnels under the ground.” Lusa faced Toklo, forcing him to meet her bright gaze. “We followed you and found you, and I think you must have fallen again, trying to get out. But we’re all safe now. We’re all alive.”
Toklo let out a long, bewildered sigh. “I thought I was dead. My head hurts.”
“Have something to eat,” Yakone invited, pushing the body of the fox toward Toklo. “That should make you feel better.”
Moving stiffly, Toklo worked his paws underneath him so that he could crouch beside the fox. He sniffed at it uncertainly, then began to eat, but slowly, as if he had lost his usual ravenous appetite. He couldn’t finish his share of the prey, turning his head away with a grunt.