Kallik shifted uneasily, glancing around as if she expected to see something that would guide them.
Is she looking for her mother to show us the way? Toklo wondered. “We have to keep going,” he said firmly. “We can’t stay on this island forever.”
To his relief his three companions nodded without any more protest or hesitation. Kallik led the way out onto the frozen sea. Toklo brought up the rear, and for all his determination he couldn’t resist a final glance back. He had to force his last paw to leave the solid ground.
Chapter Three
Kallik
A glimmer of satisfaction crept through Kallik as she and her friends returned to her familiar territory. Her pleasure at being back on the ice was joined by a wave of protectiveness toward her companions.
They don’t understand this place. I have to look after them.
After so long on the ice, their stay on the island had felt strange to her, even though the land was covered with snow. She had grown used to being the leader—the one who took charge of hunting and finding good places to sleep—and handing back the power to Toklo had thrown her off balance.
Now she was focused again, intent on keeping their little group together as she scanned the sky for the lights that showed the presence of the spirits. But there were no lights. She thought that with the end of their journey so close, she would have seen her mother dancing in the sky with all the other bear spirits. Their absence was a pain clawing deep into Kallik’s heart.
Where are you, Nisa? Have you abandoned us?
“I’m so hungry!” Lusa exclaimed, with a glance back at the island, now no more than a hump on the horizon behind them. “It’s been ages since I ate those leaves.”
“I’m starving, too,” Toklo grumbled.
“Kallik, can you find a seal hole?” Ujurak asked. His tone was edgy, and his claws scraped impatiently on the ice.
“I’ll do my best,” Kallik replied.
The other three kept heading away from the island, while Kallik cast back and forth. Eventually she spotted the dark patch of a seal’s breathing hole.
“Found one!” she called to her friends. “You wait there; I’ll do the catching.”
Kallik crouched down at the edge of the hole, making sure that her shadow didn’t fall across it, and made herself comfortable for the long wait. She was hardly settled when she sensed there was something strange about this hole, though it took a few moments for her to realize what it was.
There’s no fresh scent!
The only scent of seal was faint and stale, as if no seal had been there for a long time.
That’s odd.
The moments dragged by as Kallik waited beside the seal hole. There was no sign of movement in the water. Now and again she cast a glance toward her friends, who were clustered a few bearlengths away. Lusa and Toklo were talking together quietly, and Kallik could read impatience in the twitching of their ears and the scrape of their claws on the ice.
Ujurak sat a little ways away from them, his muzzle raised, his gaze scanning the sky. It was full daylight now, and the sun shone down, gleaming on the surface of the ice. Kallik longed for the night, when she would be able to see the Pathway Star, and maybe the spirits would return to guide them.
She made herself concentrate on the seal hole again, ready for the first swirling of the water that would herald the appearance of a seal. But everything was quiet. At last, in growing desperation, she peered down into the hole to see if she could spot any moving shapes. But she saw nothing except the shadows of the ocean.
“Kallik!” Ujurak’s voice cut through her concentration. “We have to keep moving.”
Kallik’s first instinct was to protest, to beg for a little more time. But she had to admit to herself that however long she waited, there wouldn’t be a seal for her to catch from this hole.
“Okay, coming,” she replied, heaving herself to her paws and flexing stiff muscles.
Returning to her friends, she saw how anxious Ujurak looked, though he said nothing, allowing her to take the lead as they set off once more across the ice.
“We could go back to the island if we can’t find food out here,” Lusa suggested longingly.
“No.” Ujurak’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “You know that’s no good. We have to go on. Besides,” he added, “there’s more land up ahead.”
He angled his ears toward a smudge on the distant horizon. Kallik felt more hopeful at the sight. In fact all the bears seemed to have found new energy. Their pace quickened.
As she bounded along, Kallik could hear sounds that she hadn’t heard for a long time: lapping water and the high-pitched creak of thin ice.
We’re getting close to land again! Or . . . is the ice melting? A sharp pang of foreboding stabbed through her like a walrus tusk at the thought of being cut off from land, balancing on a diminishing ice floe as she tried to reach the safety of the shore.
Picking up Ujurak’s urgency, she ran even faster. A low ice ridge blocked their path, but she pushed upward with powerful hind legs, springing easily to the top.
“Stop!” Kallik froze as she barked out the warning. “Danger!”
Only a few pawlengths ahead the ice had vanished. A wide channel about the width of one of the no-claws’ waterbeasts had been gouged through it. The stink of burning oil fumes still hung around it, making Kallik gag.
Her friends scampered toward her, bounding up to the very edge of the channel and peering curiously into the water. Kallik stayed where she was, her paws turned to stone. The channel reminded her too much of the place where she and Taqqiq had needed to cross, where Nisa had given up her life to save her from the orca.
Toklo was balanced on the very edge of the ice. “We’ll have to swim,” he said. “It’s not as wide as the Big River we crossed before Smoke Mountain. It won’t take long.”
“No!” Kallik choked out the word. “We can’t. It’s not safe.”
Toklo narrowed his eyes at her. “Not safe how?”
Kallik swallowed, the terrible day when she lost Nisa coming back to her all too vividly. “Orca,” she whispered at last.
She stared down at her paws, struggling with terror, and realized that Lusa had padded over to her. She felt the comforting warmth of the black bear’s pelt pressed up against her own.
“That’s how your mother died, isn’t it?” Lusa murmured.
Kallik couldn’t speak, but she managed to nod.
“I know how you feel,” Lusa went on, her voice warm and sympathetic. “But it will be different this time. Everything will be okay. It’s not far, and we’ll swim fast. Besides, we’re much bigger than you and Taqqiq were back then.”
You’re not, Kallik thought. And maybe the seal hole was empty because there are too many orca here.
Lusa gave her a gentle nudge, and Kallik allowed herself to be coaxed as far as the water. Peering into it, she saw that the edge of the ice was broken up where the waterbeast had plowed through, and the reek of oil was stronger than ever.
“Kallik, we have to go this way,” Ujurak said.
“He’s right,” Toklo agreed impatiently. “It’ll be dark soon, and we can’t stay here all night.”
“I’ll find a good place to slide in,” Lusa announced, scampering along the ice at the very edge of the channel.
Suddenly there was a loud crack, and the ice underneath Lusa’s paws shattered, pitching her into the sea. Kallik started toward her, only to halt as Lusa’s black head bobbed up again.
Lusa spat out water, her forepaws working vigorously. “Spirits, that’s cold!” she exclaimed. “But I’m in now. I may as well keep swimming. It’s like when we first swam out to the ice,” she added over her shoulder as she struck out for the far side of the channel. “I don’t know why, but it’s much easier to swim in the sea than it is in rivers. You were right when you told us that, Kallik.”
Facing forward again, she paddled strongly across the stretch of water, and Toklo slipped in after her.
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“You next, Kallik,” Ujurak prompted.
“I—well . . .” Kallik began to protest, then let her voice die away. She realized there was no point in arguing. I helped them when we first swam in the sea. I taught them how to float when they were tired. I can’t hang back and leave them alone now.
She launched herself into the channel, and the water closed around her, cold and familiar. Behind her she heard Ujurak slide in and start swimming as well. Ahead she could see that Lusa was doing well, already halfway across the channel, with Toklo just behind her.
Suddenly Kallik spotted a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a huge black fin sliding through the water, bearing down on Lusa. The little black bear swam on, unaware of the danger.
Terror surged over Kallik like an icy wave. “Orca!” she shouted. “Swim faster!” She forced her legs to send her powering through the water, devouring the distance between herself and Lusa.
As she overtook Toklo, he turned, his teeth bared in a fierce snarl. “Help Lusa,” he ordered. “I’ll fight off the whale.”
“No—” Kallik began to protest, unwilling to leave Toklo to face an enemy that was far too strong, even for him. Then she saw the terror on Lusa’s face as her short legs paddled furiously across the channel. Kicking out strongly, Kallik reached her and propelled her to the edge of the ice. She could hear Toklo behind her, growling and thrashing, but she had no time to turn and look.
And where’s Ujurak? she wondered, fighting back panic. Have the orca taken him already?
Lusa was clinging to the ice with her forepaws, but she was too exhausted to haul herself to safety. Kallik tried to boost her out of the water, but the black bear was heavy, her pelt waterlogged, and she slid back again with the waves lapping around her shoulders.
Below her in the depths Kallik could see more black shapes swarming upward toward her. So many! Is this what it was like for my mother? Kallik asked herself as she gave Lusa another shove. Nisa, help me! The black shapes were perilously close; Kallik imagined she could see their gaping jaws, full of sharp teeth, and the glitter of their cold, cruel eyes.
Don’t give up, a familiar voice murmured into her ear.
“Nisa!” Kallik gasped.
Strength flowed back into her body. She gave one more massive push, and Lusa slithered forward onto the ice. In the same movement Kallik turned to see Toklo surrounded by the evil black fins.
“Save yourself!” he bellowed as Kallik struck out toward him.
Kallik ignored him, forcing herself through the water. But before she could reach Toklo, she spotted another fin, bigger than all the others, churning up the water as it charged toward her.
“Sorry, Toklo,” Kallik whispered. She closed her eyes and hoped it would be over quickly.
But nothing happened. Kallik heard Lusa shriek behind her and opened her eyes to see the big fin veer to the side at the last moment, as the whale crashed into the orca that were attacking Toklo.
Spluttering and choking, Kallik was swept underwater in the wake left by the huge whale when it swept past her. As she fought to right herself, she saw the newcomer fighting with the other orca, butting them with its nose and driving them away from Toklo.
Kallik struggled back to the surface and gasped in a mouthful of air. “Swim, Toklo!” she choked out. “It’s Ujurak, helping you!”
Jaws wide as he gulped for air, Toklo thrashed frantically to escape from the seething water where the orca battled. Kallik swam beside him until they reached the ice and could haul themselves out. Lusa was waiting, leaning over to grip their fur in her teeth and tug them upward.
Kallik’s chest was heaving as she turned back to look across the channel. “Ujurak, get out!” she shouted. “We’re all safe!”
She didn’t know if the Ujurak-whale could hear her. Four more black fins were bearing down on him, cutting off his escape. They surged toward him, churning the sea to foam. Ujurak’s fin was motionless as his attackers closed in.
Then, just before the four orca reached it, the black fin vanished. Lusa let out a squeal of astonishment as the four attacking whales swirled together in a chaos of bubbling water.
Baffled, the orca swam to and fro, looking for their vanished enemy. With Lusa and Toklo beside her, Kallik peered down into the sea, but she couldn’t make out anything beyond the surging water and the circling shapes of the whales.
“What happened?” Lusa asked. “Where’s Ujurak?”
“I don’t know.” Kallik glanced from Toklo to Lusa; both her friends looked as bewildered as she felt. “Did he sink?”
“I’m going to look.” Toklo stepped forward, ready to leap into the water again, but Kallik blocked him and shouldered him away.
“Don’t be cloud-brained!” she snapped. “What good can you do, with four orca swimming in there? Besides, we have to stick together.”
Toklo huffed angrily, but to Kallik’s relief he flopped down onto the ice and didn’t try to argue.
“What are we going to do?” Lusa asked in a small voice. “We can’t just go off and leave Ujurak.”
“We have to wait,” Kallik replied. “He’s gone missing before and still come back. He’ll be back this time; you’ll see.”
“But this isn’t the same,” Lusa persisted, blinking anxiously. “He was here, and suddenly he wasn’t. How can a huge orca vanish like that?” She hesitated, then went on in a rush. “Suppose he’s dead; then how will we know which way to go?”
“He’s not dead!” Toklo growled obstinately.
Lusa’s voice rose to a wail. “Then tell me where he is! Ujurak! Ujurak!” Her voice rang out across the ice, but there was no response. “He’s not coming back,” she choked out at last. “What are we going to do?”
The numbness of grief crept up on Kallik as she realized that Lusa could be right, but she fought to hide it from her friends. Still, she couldn’t make her paws move; continuing their journey would be to accept that Ujurak was dead. And what will he do if he comes back and finds we’ve left him alone on the ice?
She cast a glance at the channel, to see the orca finally giving up their search and beginning to glide away. At the same moment she heard a splash from the opposite direction, followed by huffing and puffing breath.
Sudden hope pierced Kallik, sharp as a shard of ice. Turning, she saw Ujurak a few bearlengths farther down the channel, pulling himself out of the water in his bear shape.
“Ujurak!” Lusa squealed, bouncing toward him. “You’re okay! Where did you go?”
Ujurak plodded up to his friends, water streaming from his pelt. “When the orca attacked, I turned myself into a tiny little fish,” he explained. “I swam down into the dark water and hid under the ice until the orca left.”
“That’s so clever!” Lusa marveled.
Ujurak let out a huff of satisfaction and flopped down on the ice beside Toklo, who pushed his snout briefly into his friend’s shoulder fur. “Thanks,” Toklo muttered. “Those stinking whales would have finished me off without you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ujurak murmured.
He sounded exhausted after his battle, and Kallik realized that he couldn’t go any farther until he had rested. Besides, the short day was drawing to an end, the sun going down behind a bank of clouds in a murky red glow.
“Let’s make a den for the night,” she suggested. “We can go on in the morning.”
None of the others argued with her. They were exhausted, cold, and hungry, and it was all they could do to scrape out a rough den in a nearby snowbank and curl up together in a mass of wet fur.
Kallik felt herself drifting in darkness, unbroken except for the shining shape of Silaluk stretched out above her, paws reaching toward her in welcome. Kallik drew in a breath of wonder, feeling that she could gaze at the vision forever.
“Don’t give up,” the star-bear said, speaking in the voice of Kallik’s mother. “You were very brave today. Do you understand now why I would never have lef
t you in the water? You wanted to save Toklo; I wanted to save you.”
Kallik blinked, confused but feeling warm and safe. Is she Silaluk or Nisa? she asked herself. And does it matter?
“I understand,” she murmured, reaching up to touch noses with the huge starry bear. “Thank you.”
Chapter Four
Lusa
As soon as Lusa curled up in the den, she closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead the events of the day repeated themselves endlessly in her mind. She thought she would never forget the terror of swimming away from the orca, her struggles to pull herself onto the ice, and her gratitude and relief when Kallik boosted her up. She remembered her bewilderment when Ujurak vanished, and her joy when he reappeared in his familiar bear shape.
At last Lusa sank into sleep, but even then she couldn’t rest. She thought she was thrashing in dark, icy water, banging her head against an endless roof of ice. Huge shapes swarmed around her; she caught the flash of cold eyes and spiny-toothed mouths gaping to tear her flesh. Her senses started to spiral away in terror.
Help me! Someone help me!
Then Lusa felt something nudging her from behind, propelling her through the water. A moment later she broke out into open air. Gasping, she plunged away from the ice and turned to see who had saved her.
“Ashia!” she exclaimed, so amazed that she almost forgot to swim.
Lusa’s mother gazed at her with all the warmth and love she had given Lusa when they lived together in the Bear Bowl. But she had changed.
“Mother, there are stars in your fur!” Lusa whispered, awestruck as she gazed at the soft glimmer sifting through Ashia’s black pelt.
Ashia stretched out her paws and rose from the water until she hovered over Lusa. She grew and grew, and the stars in her fur grew brighter and brighter, until she took on the form of the Great Bear, Silaluk. But when she spoke, it was still with the voice of Lusa’s mother.
“You are safe now.”
The starry bear alighted gently on the ice and began to amble away.
“Wait for me!” Lusa cried, scrambling out of the water and bounding in pursuit.