The Longest Day

  “I’m coming with you,” Miki told her.

  “No, it’s too far. You should rest.”

  “I’ll go with her,” Ossi offered.

  Miki narrowed his eyes. “Of course you will,” he grunted.

  Lusa peered at him, surprised. It wasn’t like Miki to be grumpy. “You’ll soon be well enough to travel as far as you like,” she reassured him.

  Tibik distracted her with a loud burp. He was leaning against Sheena’s flank, wiping his tongue around his sticky muzzle.

  When she turned back, Miki was padding away. Worry churned in Lusa’s belly. “Do you think he’s annoyed because I didn’t share enough of my honey?” she asked Ossi.

  Ossi didn’t meet her gaze. “Maybe his head is hurting.”

  “Do you think? Perhaps I should go check on him.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Ossi told her. “Look. He’s surrounded by friends. They’ll take care of him.”

  Miki had joined the bears at the base of Issa’s tree. Settling among them, he looked up and watched Issa climb.

  “You’re right. He’ll be fine.” Relieved, Lusa headed through the trees, following the slope down toward the lake.

  “Follow me.” Ossi slipped past her and disappeared over a mossy rise.

  “Where are you going?” Lusa raced after him, the ground soft beneath her paws. As she reached the top, she saw Ossi standing in a stream. His snout was deep in the bubbling water.

  The sweetness of the honey had left Lusa’s mouth dry, and she bounded down the slope and splashed into the stream beside Ossi. Closing her eyes, she drank. Then she ducked down and let the water sweep over her shoulders. It was refreshingly cold. As she stood up, she saw Ossi staring at her. Was there still honey on her face? Lusa swiped a paw across her muzzle, but it was dripping with water, no stickiness left. She stared back, wondering why he was watching her with such warmth in his eyes.

  She jumped onto the bank and shook out her pelt. “What’s wrong?” He was still blinking at her like a drowsy rabbit. “What?” she demanded.

  “Where are you going when the gathering’s ended?”

  Lusa looked down at her paws. “I don’t know.” She sensed Ossi was working up to something, but she couldn’t imagine what.

  “Are you going to keep traveling with those brown and white bears?”

  Sadness tugged at her heart. “No,” she answered softly. “This is the end of our journey together.”

  “What did you plan to do next?”

  “I hadn’t planned anything really.” Thinking about the future sent worry worming beneath Lusa’s pelt. “I guess I thought I’d make some friends here and travel on with them. They might know a good place to live.”

  “You could come home with me,” Ossi murmured.

  Lusa lifted her head.

  “My home is a moon’s journey from here,” he went on. “It’s full of rowan trees and cedar and beech. You can climb from tree to tree forever. There are other black bears, and more berry bushes than you can imagine. And no flat-faces to bother us.”

  Lusa gazed at Ossi. He was so kind. And yet sadness tugged at her heart. Why? This was a future she’d dreamed of, and yet she couldn’t picture it with Ossi.

  When she didn’t answer, Ossi shook his fur. “Oh, I see.” He dragged himself out of the stream. “I guess you don’t want to come with me.”

  Lusa’s mouth felt dry. I’ve hurt him. “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course.” Ossi brushed past her. “It’s not important.” But he didn’t meet her eyes, and she knew he was lying.

  “I can feel the wind from the lake.” She changed the subject. “It feels warm. Do you think the weather’s going to get hotter?”

  “Probably,” he grunted, pushing past a patch of ferns. He headed through the forest, making for the white bears’ stretch of shore.

  Lusa tried to keep up, but Ossi managed to stay a few pawsteps ahead. As they neared the beach, he quickened his step and disappeared around a bramble. She heard his paws crunch over the pebbled shore and hurried to catch up. Was he going to be angry at her forever? Couldn’t they be friends now?

  The rustle of leaves sounded at the edge of her thoughts. Still half thinking about Ossi, Lusa turned. Her heart lurched.

  Hakan was striding toward her, his gaze fiery with rage. “You killed my sister.”

  “No!” Lusa scrambled backward as Hakan lunged at her, teeth bared. She shoved him away, but he rose to his hindpaws and towered over her.

  “Hakan! No!” Fear spiked through Lusa’s pelt.

  She leaped sideways as his forepaws slammed down. He missed her, thumping earth instead and sending leaves fluttering around them.

  Lusa backed through the brambles, her thoughts whirling. “We would have saved Chenoa if we could!” she barked desperately.

  “But you didn’t!” Hakan pushed after her through the spiky branches, his pelt bristling with rage.

  Lusa felt pebbles beneath her paws and hot sunshine wash her flanks as she stumbled backward onto the beach. Stones clattered behind her, and a moment later, Ossi was barging past her toward Hakan.

  “Leave her alone!” Ossi roared, shoving Hakan against the bramble.

  Hakan staggered, and then found his balance. Ducking past Ossi, he hurled himself at Lusa, knocking her onto her back. Pressing his claws against her throat, he hissed into her face, “Chenoa’s dead because of you!”

  Ossi grabbed Hakan’s scruff between his teeth and grunted as he tried to pull the black bear away. But Hakan was bigger than Ossi, and he was gripping tight to Lusa’s throat.

  She gasped, blood roaring in her ears as his claws pressed her throat. Was Hakan going to kill her?

  As terror swamped her, white fur flashed at the edge of her vision. Stones crunched under huge paws, and Lusa smelled the familiar scent of Kallik.

  Kallik swung a blow at Hakan. Lusa felt fur rip at her throat as Hakan staggered sideways, releasing his vicious grip. She heaved herself up onto her paws, panting.

  Kallik had pinned Hakan to the ground, her ears flat with rage, her muzzle a hairbreadth from the black bear’s face.

  Ossi hurried to Lusa’s side and watched wide-eyed. “He’s gone crazy!” he growled.

  Lusa frowned. Perhaps he had. Her chest ached with pity.

  “Leave Lusa alone!” Kallik hissed. “Chenoa’s death was an accident. There was nothing we could have done to prevent it.”

  Hakan snarled at her. “You should have let her stay with me. She’d still be alive.”

  Kallik snorted. “What kind of life would it have been? With a bully like you for a brother!” She swiped a paw across Hakan’s muzzle.

  “No!” Lusa darted forward. “Don’t hurt him!”

  Kallik swung her head around. “Why not? He tried to hurt you!”

  Lusa twitched her ears. “He’s grieving, Kallik.”

  Kallik hesitated, anger melting from her round black eyes. She let go of Hakan and backed away.

  Hakan heaved himself to his paws and stared at Lusa, his gaze suddenly bleak. “Why did you take her with you?” Sadness choked his growl. He wasn’t crazy; he was heartbroken.

  Lusa faced him. “She wanted to come with us. We couldn’t have stopped her, even if we’d tried. Nor could you. She would have followed us anyway.”

  Her heart twisted as she saw Hakan’s shoulders slump. “If I had been kinder to her, she wouldn’t have wanted to go.”

  Kallik shifted her paws. “Every bear needs to choose the path they follow. Chenoa chose hers.”

  “She was happy with us,” Lusa offered. “And her death was quick. She didn’t suffer.”

  Ossi padded forward and stopped beside Lusa. “It hurts to lose someone you love. But she’ll be at peace now.”

  Lusa nodded. “I saw her spirit in a tree.”

  Hakan jerked his gaze to meet hers. “You did? Where?”

  “Near the Big River,” Lusa told him. She hoped, with a pang, that the flat-faces hadn’t started cut
ting down the trees where Chenoa’s stood.

  Ossi was still staring at Hakan. “Come and make a nest in our camp,” he growled softly. “No bear should grieve alone. You can find comfort among your own kind.”

  Lusa tensed, watching Hakan’s face. Would he agree to make a nest in the same camp as her? She hoped so. Ossi was right. He need friendship more than anything.

  “Okay.” Hakan dipped his head. He flashed a look at Lusa, more reproachful than angry, and she guessed that, although he hadn’t forgiven them for what had happened to his sister, he was starting to accept that it was a tragedy no bear could have foreseen.

  Ossi blinked at her. “Let’s take him back to join the others.”

  “You take him, Ossi,” Lusa told him. “I want to speak with Kallik.” She wanted to thank Kallik for saving her, and she guessed that Hakan would rather travel without her.

  Ossi seemed to understand. He met her gaze for a moment, then turned to Hakan. “You can make a nest near mine,” he told the black bear gently. “There’s a thick clump of ferns. It’ll be comfortable. And there are berry bushes just up the hill.” Talking encouragingly, he nudged Hakan into the forest.

  As they disappeared past the bramble, Lusa turned to face Kallik. “Thank the spirits you saw us!” She glanced past Kallik, wondering where Yakone was. She couldn’t see him and only recognized Nukka close to the edge of the group. Lusa remembered the she-bear from the Melting Sea.

  Kallik touched her muzzle to Lusa’s head. “I’m glad I did! Where did Hakan come from? Did you know he was here?”

  “He came to our part of the woods earlier,” Lusa told her. “He was looking for Chenoa. He was angry when I told him Chenoa was dead. The other bears sent him away, but he must have been following me.”

  Kallik frowned. “Do you think you’ll be safe, sharing a camp with him?”

  Lusa nodded. She felt sure that with the friendship of his own kind, his anger would ease. “He can mourn properly now. And I won’t be alone with him.”

  Kallik’s gaze darkened. “I wonder if it was Hakan who blocked the river.”

  “What?” Lusa didn’t understand.

  “Someone used a branch to block the salmons’ path to the shallows where the brown bears were holding their trial,” Kallik explained.

  “Why would Hakan do that?” Lusa asked.

  “I can’t see who else would want to spoil the trials.” Kallik shrugged and glanced toward the trees where the black bears had disappeared. “Ossi seems nice.”

  “He is.”

  “Is he a special friend?” Kallik’s question was edged with meaning.

  Lusa stepped back. “No!”

  “Oh.” Kallik looked crestfallen. “He just seems to be very loyal.”

  “We’re not like you and Yakone,” Lusa snapped. Kallik’s eyes clouded, and guilt washed over Lusa. “I’m sorry!” she gasped. “It’s just that everyone seems to be trying to push me and Ossi together.” Even Ossi.

  Kallik touched her nose to Lusa’s cheek. “It’s okay. You must make your own decisions now. After all, it’s your future, no one else’s.”

  Lusa’s heart ached as she rested her cheek against Kallik’s muzzle. The white bear’s fishy breath smelled comforting and familiar. My future. After all these moons, I still have no idea where my journey will end.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Toklo

  “I want to carry it!” Akocha picked his way down the rocky ridge after his mother.

  Toklo grunted, amused, as Tayanita headed back to camp with Akocha’s salmon clamped proudly between her jaws. The fish was too big for Akocha to hold. Even the white bears glanced at it admiringly as they crossed the stone beach.

  Hattack was still complaining. “We should have kept fishing until we found a real winner.”

  Toklo scanned the white bears, looking for Yakone and Kallik. They had sometimes bickered on their journey, but they’d never fallen out like this. He caught sight of Kallik beyond the edge of the white bears’ stretch of shore. He blinked in surprise. Lusa was with her.

  “Hi!” Toklo stopped beside them as the other bears streamed past, heading for their own beach.

  “Turned into a white bear, have you?” Muna hissed in his ear.

  Toklo ignored her. Lusa was looking troubled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hakan’s here,” Kallik told him. “He attacked Lusa. He said if it wasn’t for us, Chenoa would still be alive.”

  Anger made Toklo’s fur spike. “The coward! Why didn’t he come looking for me? I’m the one who persuaded Chenoa to leave with us.”

  “It’s okay,” Lusa reassured him. “We managed to reason with him. Ossi’s taken him to join the others. He’s grieving, that’s all. Perhaps the Longest Day ceremony might help him to accept Chenoa’s death.”

  Toklo snorted. “Hakan couldn’t accept his mother’s death. He blamed Chenoa for it, remember? Why would he accept Chenoa’s?”

  “He’ll be okay now,” Lusa promised. “He’s with his own kind.”

  Kallik was still frowning. “We think it was Hakan who spoiled your fishing trial.”

  Toklo blinked. Hakan couldn’t have known that Wenona would suggest the fishing trial, unless . . . he had been lurking in the forest, following the brown bears.

  Would he really go that far?

  “Toklo!” Aiyanna called. “Hurry up. It’s the fighting trial next.” The brown bears had reached the edge of their shoreline and were pacing restlessly.

  Toklo looked at Kallik and Lusa. He didn’t like the idea of Lusa sharing a camp with a bully like Hakan. But he had to trust that she knew what she was doing. “Be careful,” he warned.

  “And you!” Kallik replied, watching the brown bears. Some of them were already facing each other, fur rippling as though they couldn’t wait to start fighting.

  “Are Lusa and Kallik okay?” Aiyanna asked as Toklo reached her.

  “They’re fine.” There wasn’t time to tell Aiyanna about Hakan.

  Shesh was nodding the bears into groups. “Toklo, you’re in this group,” he directed. “Aiyanna, are you taking part?”

  Aiyanna shook her head. “This is my first gathering,” she told him. “I wouldn’t know how to lead the ceremony.”

  Shesh raised his voice. “We fight in pairs, without tooth or claw. This is a test of cunning and skill, not a real fight. The winner is the bear to hold his opponent down for three heartbeats. The winners will fight until one pair is left. Their fight will decide the winner of the trial.”

  Toklo went over to the group Shesh had pointed to. Wenona, Tuari, and Muna moved aside to let him join. “I’ll fight Tuari,” he offered.

  Wenona bristled. “Let Muna fight Tuari. I’m fighting you.”

  Toklo frowned. Was that fair? “I’m bigger than you—”

  She silenced him with a snort. “This is about skill, not brute strength.”

  Shesh shooed the bears away from each other so that each group had space to fight.

  Farther up the beach, Akocha was wrestling with his catch on the stones. “I won again!” he barked, planting his paws on the smooth silver fish. The other cubs were watching.

  “Can we eat some?” Elki asked, eyeing the fish hungrily.

  “Only if you fight me for it.” Akocha squared up to the cub and showed his teeth. Tayanita and Izusa hurried over.

  “No teeth or claws,” Tayanita reminded them.

  Izusa pulled the fish out of harm’s way. “This is play-fighting, remember?”

  Toklo pulled his attention away from the cubs. There was a real trial to focus on. He glanced around the other groups, seeing the same hardness in the gaze of every bear. They all want to win. Something stirred in Toklo, a feeling he hadn’t had since he faced his father on his home territory. He’d wanted to show his father he was stronger. He’d wanted to prove he could take Chogan’s territory for himself. The same competitiveness throbbed in his belly now. He didn’t want to be leader of the brown bears, but he was going to win
this fight.

  He faced Wenona and waited for Shesh to give the signal. Nearby Tuari and Muna stood snout to snout. Silence fell around him as the bears prepared to fight.

  “Begin!”

  Shesh’s bark rang across the shore. Wenona was on her hindpaws before Toklo could move. He tried to stand up with her, but her forepaws crashed onto his shoulders. Stiffening, he pushed back against her weight, then sank back, letting Wenona fall to one side. One fast move now and he could pin her shoulders to the pebbles. He lunged, but she was faster. She rolled out of the way. Toklo’s paws smashed onto the stones, sending them flying.

  Wenona leaped to her paws, narrowing her eyes. She rammed her shoulder into his. He was surprised by her power and staggered. With a growl, she tried to heave him over, but he pushed back, driving her toward the water’s edge. She ducked away suddenly, and he stumbled forward. As Toklo regained his footing, Wenona darted behind him. Confused for a moment, he froze. Where are you?

  Paws slapped heavily onto his spine. He jerked around, shaking her off. As her paws thumped onto the ground, Toklo saw his chance. Wenona’s gaze dropped for an instant as she stumbled. He reached out with a forepaw and hooked her hind legs from beneath her. With a bark of surprise, she toppled over. This time, Toklo was faster. In a flash, he slammed his paws into her shoulders and held her firmly down for a count of three.

  Rage flared in Wenona’s gaze. Grunting, she shook him off and clambered to her paws. “You were lucky,” she hissed. Barging past him, she lumbered away.

  Tuari was sitting on his haunches beside a pile of driftwood, looking beaten. Wenona sat next to him and glowered.

  Muna nodded to Toklo. “It looks like we’re the winners of this round.”

  Toklo dipped his head to her. “Congratulations.”

  Around them, the other fights were ending. Toklo glanced toward Hattack. He was watching a young bear limp away. Hattack was the largest bear here, and Toklo knew that if he was going to win the trial, he would have to beat him.

  Toklo won fight after fight until finally he stood head to head with Hattack. His paws stung from the pebbles, and his flanks were bruised from the blows of the other bears. Holata had been the hardest to beat. Toklo had admired his speed and quick thinking. He’d almost toppled Toklo twice, turning as fast as a deer. But Toklo was light on his paws, and the moons of traveling had given him enough stamina that when Holata had finally begun to tire, Toklo still had the strength to knock his opponent to the ground.