Fire in the Sky (9 page)

Lusa felt the slow beat of
her heart matching its rhythm to the heartbeat of the earth. She was warm and comfortable for the first time in a long while. The sun was hidden away, but its warmth seeped through her paws and her fur, promising that it would return. She was surrounded by the scents of bears she knew and loved—the familiar smells of Ashia, King, Yogi, and Stella from the Bear Bowl floated around her, comforting her. She saw the faces of Toklo, Kallik, and Ujurak, all at peace with the world for once.

That was how she felt: at peace. Everyone was safe. She breathed in the whole world, feeling connected to it through every whisker. Leaftime would come again, and for now she could sleep, waiting peacefully for it to return.

Then something sharp jabbed at her belly, breaking into the dream like an unwelcome burst of sunlight inside a shadowed cave. Lusa tried to wriggle away, but someone was poking her from the other side as well. There was nowhere she could escape back into her sleep. Gradually her breathing sped up,
and she sensed cold, hard ice below her.

“Lusa! Lusa! Lusa!” Her friends’ voices were too loud, too insistent. Lusa covered her head with her paws, trying to block them out. She wanted to go back to the peaceful place. She wanted to sleep.

“No, Lusa, wake up! You have to wake up!” Toklo barked, nudging her again. She could smell the seal carcass on his breath, meaty and rich. A fierce wind struck her nose, filling it with the scents of ice and snow. She shivered as a blast of cold shot through her bones. Why would her friends do this to her? Why couldn’t they just
let her sleep
?

“Go away, Toklo!” she growled. She shoved his paws away from her. “You’re ruining it! I don’t want to be awake! It’s nice and warm when I’m sleeping, so go away and let me sleep!”

“Lusa, you can’t,” he said, and the fear in his voice woke her up more than any of his jabbing and prodding. Snow flew into her face as she rubbed her eyes and blinked up at him. The world was a blinding whirl of white and the howling wind struck her with its full force. She didn’t want to wake up into this storm, but Toklo hung over her anxiously. “You mustn’t let yourself sleep out here in the open, Lusa,” he insisted. “This isn’t the right time or place. You have to stay awake.”

Memories of Ashia saying the same thing in her dream came back to Lusa. She tried pulling herself into a sitting position, although it tired her out just to do that. “Why?” she yelped. “What—what’s the matter with me?” She looked at Kallik, pressed up against her other side, and saw Toklo’s look of terror reflected there. Ujurak was pacing in a circle
around them, pawing at the snow on his face and watching her worriedly. Around them the storm still raged, and it was hard to see much beyond the shadows of her friends gathered close to her.

“It’s the longsleep,” Toklo said quietly. “Brown bears do it when the cold weather comes and the season of earthsleep sends all creatures into their dens to wait for fishleap to return. They burrow into the earth and sleep through the cold months, until they can come out with the warm weather and find enough food to live on again.” He shook his head, burying his black nose in her fur. “I didn’t know that black bears did it, too. But that must be what’s happening to you—you’re feeling the pull of the longsleep.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about it,” Ujurak said guiltily. “I should have known this would happen to you.”

Lusa shook her head, trying to give Ujurak and Kallik reassuring looks. “That can’t be it,” she said. “I never heard about any longsleep in the Bear Bowl. Wouldn’t my mother have told me about it, if black bears did it?”

“Maybe they do it only in the wild,” Toklo said, and Ujurak nodded. “But you can’t fall asleep out here, Lusa. You might not wake up again until the ice melts, and then what would you do?”

I guess I’d wake up once I hit the water,
Lusa thought, but she knew he was right. If she woke up in the sea, skylengths from shore with no idea which direction to swim in, she would surely die. Assuming she even survived the moons of cold-earth out here, where any white bear might find her and eat her or the storms might freeze her to death without her even noticing.

“All right,” she said, shaking herself so the snow flew off in swirling white clouds. “I won’t let myself sleep. At least now I know what’s wrong with me, right?”

She sighed. It was a relief to know that this was normal for a wild black bear. But it was scary, too. How could she fight the longsleep that was curled up inside her, waiting to wash over her like soft water? If this was natural for bears, what could she do to stop it?

As if he’d read her mind, Toklo nosed her gently and said, “I can feel the pull of the longsleep, too. I find it helps if I eat well and keep moving.”

Lusa’s stomach ached at the thought of any more seal fat. “I’ll try,” she said. “But it’s hard to keep moving when it’s so cold.”

“We
have
to keep moving,” Ujurak insisted. “We’re wasting time here. We have to go.”

“We’re not wasting time,” Toklo said, giving him an icy look. “We’re making sure Lusa is all right.”

“I know, I know,” Ujurak said. He started pacing back and forth again. “But it’s just a storm. We can handle a storm, if we just keep going.”

“I will,” Lusa promised, rubbing her face with one paw. “I can do it, Ujurak.”

Kallik lay down and crawled up beside her. “Climb onto my back,” she suggested. “I’ll carry you, at least until we find shelter. We can’t risk losing you again in the storm.”

“And we’ll figure out the rest tomorrow, after we’ve slept,” Ujurak said.

Lusa felt her heart leap happily at the idea of more sleeping.
Even knowing how dangerous it was, she still wanted to sleep more than anything else in the world. That seemed like an ominous sign to her.

She scrambled up onto Kallik’s wide back and flopped over like a cub. It was easy to tell from here how much Kallik had grown. The white bear’s broad shoulders and hips comfortably supported Lusa’s weight as they trudged on into the whirling snowstorm.

“Don’t worry, Toklo,” Lusa said. Her friend was padding right beside Kallik’s paws, watching Lusa anxiously. “I’ve been sleepy before and managed to stay awake. I can do this!”

“I hope so,” said Toklo.

But despite her words, Lusa felt Kallik’s rolling gait slowly lulling her back into sleep. Her fur was so warm…Even the snow battering at Lusa’s back didn’t feel cold enough to keep her awake. And it was so easy to just close her eyes and sleep….

Kallik had her head down to
keep the driving snow out of her eyes, so it took her a few moments before she heard Toklo calling her name.

“Kallik, stop,” he said again, nudging her side.

Lusa’s weight across her back was warm and heavy, and it took all her concentration just to keep putting one paw in front of the other. Reluctantly she stopped and swung her head around to Toklo.

“She’s fallen asleep again,” Toklo said, nodding up at Lusa. On his other side, Ujurak pressed closer and gave the little black bear a worried look. Through the whirling snow Kallik could see large shapes, like bears watching them, but she knew they were just frozen hillocks of snow and ice like the ones they’d been passing all day.

“There must be somewhere we can shelter around here,” Ujurak said.

Toklo stared around at the bleak, dark landscape. “Even if we do find shelter,” he said, “what happens if Lusa goes to
sleep and we can’t wake her up again?”

They were all silent for a moment. Kallik knew none of them had any idea what to do if that happened.

She slowly lowered herself to her belly while Toklo tried digging in the nearest snowdrift. But before too long his paws hit ice. “It’s like rock,” he hissed, scraping it with his claws.

Kallik blinked, feeling despair wash over her. She couldn’t search for shelter and carry Lusa at the same time. But they couldn’t just keep walking forever, could they?

“We’ll make her walk between us,” Ujurak suggested, nudging Lusa until she slid off Kallik’s back. Lusa’s eyes popped open as her paws hit the snow and she stumbled upright.

“I’m awake!” she squeaked.

“You are now,” Kallik said. “And you’ll stay that way if you keep walking. Just one paw in front of the next, all right?”

Lusa nodded, rubbing her muzzle wearily. They set off again with the snow flying directly into their faces. The howling, freezing wind carried their voices away as soon as they opened their mouths, so it was impossible to talk. Kallik wasn’t even sure how to look for shelter anymore. It seemed like every snow pile concealed a block of ice underneath. But if they stopped too long to search for one without ice in the middle, they’d be buried in the snow, and then they might never wake up.

Kallik’s pelt brushed against Lusa’s, although it was agony to walk as slowly as the little black bear needed to. She lifted her head to watch Ujurak as he paced ahead of them. His brown fur was almost entirely white under the snow. He pressed
forward steadily, his hindquarters nearly disappearing in the flurries of snow between them. What was he looking for on the ice? What was Kallik supposed to find out here?

“Nisa, please help us,” she whispered, but the wind yanked the words out of her mouth and scattered them into the storm. Surrounded by flurries of white on all sides, Kallik couldn’t see the ice spots in the sky or the bubbles and shadows under her paws. She was utterly alone, cut off from the spirits above and below her.

She’d thought she knew the ice, but really she knew so little about it. All that time she’d longed to live on the Endless Ice—all that traveling to get here—and now it seemed as if she wasn’t suited for it at all. Maybe she could survive better on land. Certainly she could keep her friends safer there. In this white, white world she couldn’t even tell which way was up anymore. How had her mother survived with two cubs? How did any bear survive out here?

Kallik didn’t know how long they walked, but her paws ached and her nose was numb and they were surrounded by total darkness and whirling snow, when suddenly Lusa and Toklo stumbled at the same time and collapsed to their bellies. Lusa buried her face between Toklo’s front paws and curled into him.

“I can’t go any farther,” she said. “I’m sorry, I’ve tried.”

“I can’t, either,” Toklo agreed, his breathing heavy and labored. “We have to rest.”

“No, we can’t!” Ujurak cried, bounding back to them. His movements were slow and exhausted, but he shook his head
insistently. “We can’t give up. Our quest—”

“I don’t care about your stupid quest!” Toklo snapped. “We’re trapped out here in a blizzard because
you
thought it was a good idea to follow
her
.” He jerked his chin at Kallik.

A pang of guilt shot through Kallik. “I’m doing my best!” she protested.

“This is what the signs said to do!” Ujurak reminded him.

“You haven’t caught a seal,” Toklo pointed out to Kallik, ignoring Ujurak. “You can’t find us shelter. You can’t survive out here any better than we can! We might as well be following a salmon!”

“Stop fighting,” Lusa murmured, burrowing farther into Toklo’s fur.

“You just can’t stand letting someone else lead,” Kallik growled, getting angry now. “I’d be doing fine out here if I weren’t dragging your worthless carcass around behind me. And you’d be dead if it weren’t for Ujurak.”

“We’re supposed to be working together!” Ujurak yelped. “Why can’t you all see that? We
have
to keep going!”

“For what?” Toklo snarled, turning on him. Lusa whimpered in protest as he shifted away from her. “To where? You don’t even know where you’re taking us!”

“Maybe I don’t,” Ujurak admitted.

A chill shivered through Kallik’s bones. If even Ujurak didn’t know where they were going, what hope did they have?

“But I know we have to get there, and I know we have to do it together!” Ujurak added.

“Do your precious signs say anything about how to stay
alive?” Toklo growled. “Because we’re not going to be much use if we’re all dead!” He stopped, panting, and looked down at Lusa, asleep between his paws. “I just don’t care anymore,” he said. “You keep going if you want to. Lusa and I are staying here.” He flopped down beside her and closed his eyes. Almost immediately the storm began to cover them both with snow.

Kallik wanted to keep arguing, to try to defend herself, but the truth was she didn’t think she had it in her to walk much farther, either. More important, she was afraid that Toklo was right. She had no idea what she was doing out here. She couldn’t take care of her friends, even though she’d promised to.

She looked up and met Ujurak’s hurt, confused eyes. “I’m sorry, Ujurak,” she said. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t find us shelter, and we’re all too tired to keep walking. Maybe coming out here was a mistake.”

Trembling with exhaustion, she curled up against Lusa’s side and huddled as close to her friends as she could. After a long moment, she felt Ujurak lie down beside her, resting his head on his paws with a defeated sigh. The wind howled against Kallik’s back, battering her fur. Perhaps she could protect her friends…if they kept Lusa in the center, maybe their warmth would keep her safe…maybe the storm would end soon….

Kallik was asleep before she could have another worried thought.

In her dream, Nisa and Taqqiq were curled around her in
a warm den, listening to the storm howling outside. Kallik rested in her mother’s fur, letting her fears drift away. Someone else could take care of her now.

“I’m going to get some food,” Nisa said, standing up and rolling Kallik aside. She shouldered her way to the entrance of the den and began digging at the snow.

“Wait, don’t go,” Kallik begged. “We’re all right in here.”

Nisa didn’t answer. Her white haunches disappeared down the tunnel into the whirling snow outside. Kallik crawled over to Taqqiq and huddled next to him. At least she wasn’t alone.

Then Taqqiq stood up and walked to the entrance as well.

“Taqqiq, don’t leave me!” Kallik yelped.

He shook his head slowly, then crawled outside.

Kallik was terrified. Why had they left her alone? She turned in a circle in the center of the den. It felt as if furry bodies were pressing up against her, but she couldn’t see anyone else in there with her. She was on her own, and the den was filling up with snow.

More flakes flew in through the entrance, fast and furious as if bears were outside shoveling it in at her with their paws. But it wasn’t ordinary snow. Kallik tried to dig into it as it covered her paws, but it was black instead of white, sparkling with the light from countless chips of ice, like the night sky turned into snow and piling up all around her….

The ice spots swirled under her paws, eddying and rippling across the roof of the den. Kallik looked up and then all around, and realized she was surrounded by blackness on all sides. The den had vanished, and she was floating in warm
darkness, lit only by the sparkling ice spots.

“Kallik,” said a gentle voice.

Kallik turned and saw a great bear padding toward her across the sky. The bear’s pale fur glittered with stars and rippled as she moved, carrying with it the scent of the wind. Her eyes were kind as she leaned down to touch Kallik’s nose.

“Silaluk,” Kallik breathed in awe.