SPIRITS IN THE STARS
ERIN HUNTER
Special thanks to Cherith Baldry
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One - Ujurak
Chapter Two - Toklo
Chapter Three - Kallik
Chapter Four - Lusa
Chapter Five - Kallik
Chapter Six - Toklo
Chapter Seven - Lusa
Chapter Eight - Ujurak
Chapter Nine - Kallik
Chapter Ten - Ujurak
Chapter Eleven - Ujurak
Chapter Twelve - Kallik
Chapter Thirteen - Toklo
Chapter Fourteen - Kallik
Chapter Fifteen - Toklo
Chapter Sixteen - Lusa
Chapter Seventeen - Kallik
Chapter Eighteen - Ujurak
Chapter Nineteen - Ujurak
Chapter Twenty - Toklo
Chapter Twenty-One - Lusa
Chapter Twenty-Two - Kallik
Chapter Twenty-Three - Toklo
Chapter Twenty-Four - Ujurak
Chapter Twenty-Five - Lusa
Chapter Twenty-Six - Kallik
KEEP WATCH FOR OMEN OF THE STARS WARRIORS
Prologue
Chapter 1
About the Author
Also by Erin Hunter
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
Ujurak
Ujurak’s legs ached as he tried to concentrate on just putting one paw in front of another. He and his friends seemed to have been trudging across the Endless Ice forever, though he knew that only a few sunrises had passed since they’d escaped from the flat-faces near the oil rig.
Glancing over his shoulder, he could see that his three companions looked just as tired as he felt. Toklo, the big brown bear, shambled along with his head down. Lusa stumbled after him as if she hardly knew where she was anymore, her small shape a black dot against the endless white; Ujurak knew they would have to keep a close eye on her, for fear that she would sink back into the longsleep. Even Kallik, who was more at home on the ice than any of them, padded along with a grim expression.
All around them the ice had been carved and twisted by the wind into strange shapes, which sometimes stretched over their heads into the sky. At first they had played hide-and-seek among them; Ujurak let out a small huff of amusement as he remembered how good Lusa was at hiding, in spite of her black pelt. Sometimes they would slide down the frozen drifts, or look for shapes that reminded them of animals. Toklo had growled at an ice pillar that he thought looked like Shoteka, the grizzly who had attacked him at Great Bear Lake.
But we’re too tired for games now, Ujurak thought. Too tired for anything except this endless slog.
His heart sank farther as he made out a frozen ridge across their path, a wall of ice that disappeared into the distance on either side.
“Now what?” Toklo grumbled, trudging up as Ujurak slowed to a halt. “Don’t tell me we have to climb that.”
“We do,” Ujurak replied. He could feel that they were drawing closer and closer to the spirit of his mother, and the tugging on his paws was too strong to be ignored. “This is the way we must go.”
Once the big grizzly would have argued with him. Now he just let out a snort of disgust. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“But how?” Lusa asked, stifling a yawn. She and Kallik had plodded up next to them. “It’s so high and smooth!”
Ujurak glanced at Kallik for advice, but the white bear only shook her head in confusion. “There were no ridges like this where I lived with Nisa and Taqqiq.”
“I’ll go first,” Toklo announced. “I’ll try to scrape some pawholds in the ice for the rest of you.”
Without waiting for the others to respond, he began clawing his way up the slippery slope. Ice splinters showered down as he dug his claws into the surface; Lusa crouched and wrapped her paws over her head. “Hey, that stings!” she protested.
“Come on, you’ll be fine.” Kallik nudged the small black bear to her paws again. “You go next, and I’ll give you a boost.”
Working her shoulders underneath Lusa, the white bear heaved her upward. Lusa scrambled up the slope in Toklo’s wake, struggling to thrust her paws into the holes the bigger bear had made. She let out a startled yelp as she lost her grip and began to slide down again, her forepaws splaying out against the ice while her hindpaws scrabbled frantically. Ujurak let out a sigh of relief as he saw her drive her claws into a gap in the surface and start climbing again.
“You next,” Kallik suggested. “I’ll keep watch for danger.”
Ujurak agreed, though he wasn’t sure they had much to fear in this desolate landscape. He almost felt that they were the only living creatures left in the world.
By now Toklo had reached the crest of the ridge and turned to call back to his companions. “Come on! It’s easier on the other side!”
Ujurak climbed quickly, his paws strengthened by the feeling that his mother was watching over them, and reached the top of the ridge just behind Lusa.
The small black bear flopped down, panting. “I thought we might be able to see land from up here,” she said. “But it’s just more ice.”
Gazing ahead, Ujurak saw that the ridge on this side sloped down gradually to an ice plain with a broken, choppy surface, like a frozen sea. The sky was covered with clouds, brightening to a milky radiance where the sun was trying to break through, and it was impossible to tell where the land ended and the sky began.
“We just have to keep going,” Ujurak said.
As soon as Kallik arrived, shaking ice chips from her fur, they set off down the slope.
“I’m so tired my paws are falling off,” Toklo grumbled, padding at Ujurak’s side. “And my belly thinks my throat’s been clawed out.”
Ujurak pushed his snout into his friend’s shoulder fur. “We’ll stop to eat soon,” he responded, trying to sound encouraging. “Kallik will hunt for us.”
“She is good at that now,” Toklo admitted. “Hey, Kallik, what about a nice fat seal?”
“Sure.” Kallik raised her head, looking proud that Toklo was relying on her to provide for them. “Why don’t you three rest, while I go and look for a seal hole?”
She paused, swinging her head around and sniffing—Ujurak guessed she was trying to sense the best place to start searching—then she plodded off across the ice.
Ujurak led the way to a twisted mass of snow that would give them some shelter against the wind that scoured the frozen plain. Lusa curled up in a hollow, wrapped one paw over her nose, and closed her eyes.
Toklo crouched beside her, scanning her anxiously. “I hope she’s not falling into the longsleep,” he muttered.
Ujurak nodded. Though Lusa had been more cheerful and active since they’d escaped from the flat-faces, he couldn’t help worrying just as Toklo did. She needs to reach land. We all do.
The two brown bears huddled closer to Lusa, sharing their warmth, while they waited for Kallik.
“She’d better get a move on,” Toklo remarked, shifting uneasily. “I’m starving!”
“Me too,” Ujurak agreed.
“I’m sick of seal, though,” the big grizzly went on. “What I wouldn’t give for a fresh salmon or a hare!”
Ujurak felt his mouth beginning to water, and his stomach rumbled at the thought. “I’ve heard Lusa muttering about grubs and berries in her dreams,” he told his friend. “It won’t be long now.”
Toklo’s only reply was a disbelieving grunt.
Ujurak couldn’t help feeling optimistic. Awareness of his mother’s presence tingled through him from his nose to his paws. But he didn’t expect his
companions to share his conviction. They’ll see, he thought. We must be near the end of our journey.
Time dragged on, and Kallik did not return. Drowsily Ujurak let his mind drift back to the flat-face camp and to Sally, the young flat-face female who had been his friend. He remembered her dark hair and the laughter in her eyes, and the compassion she had shown when she was helping the animals who had been trapped in the oil. He remembered how shocked she had been when she’d seen him change back into a bear.
I wonder what she told the others about how Lusa and I disappeared. And will she try to find us again?
A pang of regret throbbed through Ujurak. It was weird to be missing a flat-face, and he knew it was best for them not to meet again. But he did miss Sally’s cheerfulness and her kindness.
I’m not a flat-face; I’m a bear . . . aren’t I? Not long ago he had almost lost the sense of who he really was when he had spent too long in whale shape. He didn’t want to risk that ever again. I’m a bear. And how would I explain myself to Sally if we met again?
“Uh . . . Sally, you see I’m mostly a bear, but sometimes I’m a flat-face, or a bird, or . . .” he muttered out loud.
“Hey!” Toklo prodded him in his side, bringing Ujurak fully awake again. “Are you talking to yourself?”
“No, I was talking to Sally,” Ujurak replied, not thinking how this might sound to Toklo.
“What do you want to talk to her for?” There was a tinge of jealousy in Toklo’s voice. “She’s not even here. And she’s a flat-face.”
“She’s a good flat-face,” Ujurak protested. When Toklo huffed angrily, the smaller bear stretched out a paw to touch his friend’s shoulder. “But you’re right,” he murmured reassuringly, even though he couldn’t understand why Toklo was getting so worked up over a flat-face they would never see again. “There’s no point in talking to her.”
Never again . . . he thought wistfully. She was so good and kind, but we don’t walk the same pathways.
The sun had begun to slide down the sky by the time Kallik returned, dragging a seal behind her. Ujurak nudged Lusa awake, and the friends clustered eagerly around the catch.
“That’s . . . er . . . great, Kallik,” Ujurak said, trying to hide his dismay. The seal was the smallest he’d ever seen, not even fully grown. There wasn’t nearly enough meat to feed all four of them.
“Yeah . . . brilliant catch!” Lusa added, but her voice sounded hollow.
Toklo just let out a growl as he tore off a chunk of meat.
“Don’t say thanks or anything,” Kallik muttered to him as they all crouched down to share the catch. “I waited ages for this!”
Lusa swallowed a mouthful of the seal meat. “We know you did your best—”
“It doesn’t sound like it,” Kallik interrupted, her voice rising in frustration. “If this isn’t good enough for you, why don’t you go and find some berries or hares?”
“You know we can’t.” Toklo rose to his paws, glowering at the white bear. “There’s nothing here but seals! And ice! And more seals and more ice!”
He gave the remains of the seal a contemptuous prod with one paw and started to lumber away.
“Wait,” Lusa cried, springing to her paws and scampering after him. “Come back! You’re wrong!”
Toklo swung around and loomed over the little black bear. “Wrong, am I?” he challenged her. “If you’re so clever, then show me these other things.”
Lusa stretched out her muzzle toward him, a sudden intensity in her eyes. “Listen . . .” she breathed out.
Ujurak and Kallik exchanged a mystified glance. All the bears fell silent. Ujurak hardly dared to breathe. Then, far in the distance, he heard a faint barking.
“There!” Lusa exclaimed triumphantly.
“I suppose you’ve made your point,” Toklo grumbled as he plodded back to his friends, with Lusa bouncing alongside. “But what is it? And can we eat it?”
They all listened again to the faint barking. Ujurak thought he should remember what animal sounded like that, but the memory escaped him. “Is it seals?” he asked Kallik.
The white bear shook her head, looking puzzled. Then suddenly her eyes brightened. “Walruses!” she exclaimed.
“What?” Lusa’s eyes stretched wide with alarm. “They’re scary!”
Ujurak’s belly lurched, remembering the time that he and Kallik had been attacked by a walrus. Even with two of them to fight back, it had taken all their courage and strength to kill the fearsome creature.
“I know,” Kallik responded. “We’ll have to make sure we don’t get too near them. But walruses never go far out onto the Endless Ice. Hearing them means we must be near land.”
New energy flooded through Ujurak. With his friends hard on his paws, he scrambled and scampered over the ice in the direction of the noise. But however fast they ran, the sound didn’t seem to grow any nearer.
“It’s much farther away than I hoped,” Kallik said.
“The air is so still,” Lusa panted as she struggled to keep up with her bigger companions. “Sound travels a long way.”
Twilight gathered as the sun sank down and the short day came to an end. But the clouds were breaking up, and the full moon soon appeared, floating high in the sky. The ice glimmered silver under its pale light.
“Let’s keep going,” Toklo growled. “I don’t care where, just so long as we get off this stupid ice.”
“Ujurak, can you see any signs?” Lusa asked.
Ujurak halted briefly and scanned the sky, but there was no sign that the spirits were present, only a few faint streaks on the horizon.
“We’ve hardly seen the spirits since we left the oil rig,” he said, half to himself. “Have they given up on us because we’ve taken too long?” He felt as if a stone were in his belly, pulling him down. “Are we too late?”
“Don’t think that!” Lusa encouraged him, pushing her snout into his shoulder. “You can still feel your mother urging you on, can’t you? And now we’ve found a whole new place to explore!”
She bounded off again, her short legs pumping determinedly, and Ujurak followed, catching up to Toklo and Kallik. But their days of journeying and lack of food were sapping their strength. They couldn’t keep running for long.
Ujurak thought that the barking of the walruses was a little clearer, but they were still a long way off when he realized that the bears were all too exhausted to carry on. Lusa had started to lag behind, blinking and shaking her head now and then as if she was trying to keep awake. Kallik was limping after treading on a sharp piece of ice, and even Toklo looked strained.
“We have to rest,” Ujurak announced, coming to a halt. “The walruses won’t go away.”
His friends were too weary to argue. They found a sheltered spot at the foot of another ice ridge and curled up to sleep. As Ujurak closed his eyes, the barking of the walruses continued to echo in his ears, but the land still felt a long way off.
The whining of the wind and a raw chill in the depths of his fur woke Ujurak before the sun rose. Snowflakes whirled in front of his nose; the blizzard lashed his pelt and tore at his body with icy claws.
Beside him Toklo was crouching, with Lusa peering over his shoulder into the eddying snow. “Just what we need,” Toklo grunted.
“We can’t freeze to death now!” Lusa protested. “Not when we’re so close to land. The spirits wouldn’t be so cruel.”
“We should dig into the snow,” Kallik said, from Ujurak’s other side. “That way we can keep warm.”
For a moment Ujurak thought he was too exhausted to make a single scrape. But desperation gave strength to his paws. Together the four of them began to burrow into the snow at the bottom of the ridge, hollowing out a den.
“Stupid blizzard!” Lusa exclaimed as her paws worked vigorously. “If it weren’t for that, we could be on our way toward the walruses again.”
She dug even deeper, her hindpaws throwing up a bank of snow behind her, while her head disappeared into the b
ottom of the hollow. Suddenly she stopped, letting out a startled yelp.
“What’s the matter?” Ujurak asked anxiously, afraid that his friend had hurt herself.
Lusa’s head popped up again. “Stones!” she squeaked. “Earth!”
For a moment Ujurak gaped at her in disbelief; then he crowded around with Toklo and Kallik to see what the small black bear had found.
Lusa was right. Instead of water, or snow, or more ice, at the bottom of the hole was a layer of gritty pebbles. Ujurak reached down and touched the rough surface, feeling it solid beneath his paw. Thankfulness flooded through him.
We’ve made it!
As the four bears stood together, too overwhelmed to speak, the bellowing of walruses broke through the sounds of the storm.
“I name this Walrus Rock,” Lusa announced solemnly. Scrambling into the hole, she pushed forward her snout to snuff up the smell of the land. Ujurak and Toklo squeezed in beside her; Ujurak closed his eyes and drew the warm scent of stones and earth deep into himself.
“Well,” Kallik’s voice came cheerfully from the rim of the hollow, “maybe now you’ll all stop complaining about eating seals.”
Ujurak looked up again, seeing the white bear as a dim shape amid the whirling snow. As he clambered out of the hollow, he could see nothing in all directions except for the same snow-covered landscape they had journeyed over for what seemed like endless days.
Where are all the plants and animals? he asked himself. How much farther do we have to go?
Together they enlarged the hollow and huddled inside it while the storm screamed overhead. Two sunrises came and went while the wind whipped over the icy plain, driving the snow along with it.