River of Lost Bears (13 page)

Fury surging, Toklo ripped free of the black bear's claws. With a roar, he struck Hakan's snout. Blood spurted, and Hakan howled. The black bear hit back, pounding Toklo's head with a flurry of well-aimed blows that unbalanced him. As Toklo fell backward, Hakan hooked his pelt with his short, sharp claws. Toklo gasped in pain, choking as he slid underwater. He tried to struggle free, but pebbles rolled beneath his paws and he couldn't get a grip. The current tugged his fur and dragged both bears, writhing like eels, downstream.

Toklo stretched for the surface and gulped air. They were heading for rock-strewn rapids, and the noise of the river as it bubbled and foamed filled Toklo's ears. He glimpsed a boulder a moment before it struck his flank. The current tumbled them on. Hakan pulled him back down, but Toklo had time to see another boulder rushing toward them. He twisted just in time, letting Hakan slam into it. The black bear let go. Toklo plunged his hindpaws into the riverbed and reared up. As he hit air, Hakan swept past. Toklo sank his claws deep into Hakan's pelt. He dragged him up and flung him back against the boulder. He held him there, snarling. “You fight like a coward.”

Hakan's eyes clouded.

“Get off my brother! You'll kill him!”

Toklo gasped as claws dug into his back and tugged him away. “Chenoa?” He whipped around, spraying water.

Chenoa stood up to her belly in the rapids. “Stop it! Both of you!”

Toklo stared at her. “But Lusa sent me back for you!”

Chenoa tipped her head in surprise. “She did?”

Hakan shook the clouds from his eyes and lunged toward Toklo. Chenoa flung herself between them. “No!” she howled above the roaring of the river. “Enough! I can't live with you anymore, Hakan! Go back to your territory. Find a mate! Raise cubs! My home's not with you. It's somewhere else.”

Hakan stared at her, flanks heaving, his breath coming in gasps. Toklo tensed, ready to protect Chenoa if he lashed out.

“I didn't ask our mother to save me,” Chenoa hissed. “That was a choice she made because she loved me. She chose her own destiny. Let me choose mine. If you truly love me, you'll let me go without a fight.”

Hakan blinked. “You're really going to leave me?”

Chenoa didn't flinch. “I'll come back one day and meet your mate and your cubs. I'll never stop loving you. And if I have cubs, I'll tell them all about you.”

Toklo felt a rush of pride as Chenoa defiantly lifted her muzzle.

Hakan's gaze hardened. “Go, then!” He splashed to the shore and bounded up onto the rocks. “At least our mother isn't here to see this. She'd never forgive you for leaving me. It would be like killing her all over again!”

Chenoa stood, frozen in the flowing
water, and watched as her brother stalked into the woods.

Toklo leaned closer to her. “He'll understand eventually.” He nudged her toward the shore and waited as she heaved herself onto the bank. Toklo leaped up after her and shook the water from his pelt, wincing with pain. Hakan hadn't hurt him badly, but he could still feel where the black bear's claws had ripped his fur.

Chenoa gazed into the woods, her eyes sharp with grief.

“There's nothing more you can do,” Toklo told her softly. “Perhaps you'll come back one day and tell him it was the right decision.”

Chenoa looked at him, eyes round. “Is it the right decision?”

“Of course!” She couldn't waste her life being bullied by Hakan. “You have to live for yourself, not for Hakan.”

Chenoa sighed. “I hoped it'd be different.”

Toklo shook his head. “Sometimes doing the right thing feels worse than doing the wrong thing.” With a prick of grief, he remembered Ujurak leaving them in the cave of stars. “Come on.” Steering her along the shore, he guided her upstream. “Lusa will be thrilled to see you again.” The sun was sinking down toward the horizon. The trees stretched long shadows over the shore.

Chenoa glanced backward as they followed the curve of the river. Toklo guessed she was hoping Hakan would appear to say a kinder farewell.
She's got more faith in him than he deserves.
He looked back, too, relieved that there was no sign of the bad-tempered bear.

Chenoa dragged her paws, but Toklo didn't hurry her. Leaving Hakan was probably the biggest decision she'd ever made. But when her steps slowed more, worry pricked at his pelt. She couldn't change her mind now. Hakan would never stop bullying her.

“Let's fish,” Toklo suggested. It might cheer her up. He waded into the river. The shallows here raced over smooth rock. “Come on.”

Chenoa lingered on the shore.

“You must be hungry,” Toklo prompted. “You never got a chance to finish your fishing.”

“I guess.” Chenoa splashed into the water and stopped beside him. “This
is
a good spot.”

Fish flashed past, swept over the smooth rock by the current. Toklo plunged his paws onto one, growling as he missed. The water moved faster than he expected. Chenoa snorted, amused, then made her own lunge. She hooked out a fish and tossed it to the shore.

Toklo watched it flap on the rocks. “You're quick!” He was impressed.

“I'm used to fishing this river.”

“I guess I'm out of practice.” Toklo shrugged. “I've spent too much time sitting beside ice holes and waiting for the fish to come to me.”

Chenoa stared at him. “I can't imagine you on the ice. Kallik and Yakone grew up there, but it must have been horrible for you and Lusa.”

“It is good to be back in the forest,” Toklo conceded.

“I'll bet!” Chenoa swung her head, taking in the wide sweep of trees and river. “The ice must be weird without forests or hills. Isn't it spooky, all that whiteness?”

Toklo let his thoughts drift back to the Melting Sea. “When you get used to the white, you see other colors there.” He huffed. “You have to look pretty hard, though.”

The fish had stopped flapping on the shore.

“Let's take our catch back to the others,” Chenoa suggested. “I can't wait to see Lusa!”

Toklo bounded toward the bank. “Yeah.” He appreciated the way Chenoa was eager to share her catch with Kallik, Yakone, and Lusa. He was glad Lusa had persuaded him to go back. Chenoa was going to make a good traveling companion.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the others. Toklo spotted Lusa first, a black smudge pacing on the moonlit shore, and then Yakone, standing in the river. Kallik was sleeping in a nest of twigs and leaves.

“Chenoa!” Lusa limped toward them, her eyes flashing in the starlight. “You came!”

Chenoa rushed forward and touched Lusa's muzzle with her own. “Thanks for letting me.”

Yakone called from the river, “Chenoa's here!”

“Chenoa!” Kallik scrambled to her paws, shaking leaves from her pelt. Chenoa galloped to greet her.

Lusa nestled against Toklo. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He nudged her playfully. “You can rescue the next bear yourself,” he teased.

They padded after Chenoa. “Did you see Hakan?” Lusa asked.

Toklo rolled his eyes. “He saw me first.”

Lusa stiffened. “Did you fight?” Her gaze swept Toklo's pelt.

“Yeah.” Toklo shrugged. He lowered his voice as they reached Chenoa and the others. “But it was okay. Chenoa was the brave one. She stood up to him, perhaps for the first time.”

Kallik was gazing at the sky. “Shall we travel, while the moon's bright?”

Toklo scanned the horizon. Clouds bubbled ominously. He tasted rain in the air. It would be a good idea to push on before it hit them. “Are you okay to walk?” he asked Lusa.

She stretched her hind legs, wincing a little. “Walking might help,” she told him. “I'm getting stiff from resting.”

Yakone led the way. Toklo stayed close to Chenoa, while Kallik and Lusa brought up the rear.

“It's almost like traveling over ice,” Yakone commented as he padded along the moonlit stone.

“Except you can't fall through it,” Toklo grunted.

Chenoa stared at him with round eyes. “You didn't!”

“I did.” Toklo shivered at the memory of the shocking coldness.

“Ujurak rescued him,” Lusa called from behind.

Chenoa swallowed. “Ujurak must have been a brave bear!”

Her voice faded as memory swallowed Toklo. He was back in the freezing ocean, lungs bursting and panic roaring in his ears as he scrabbled at the jagged ice above his head. And then Ujurak had appeared, not as a bear, but as an orca. He'd been so huge; Toklo thought his heart would explode from fear. Powerful and swift, the Ujurak-orca had swept Toklo from beneath the ice and lifted him safely onto the surface.

Chenoa's voice broke into his memories. “How did he save you?”

Toklo shook away the fear flashing through his pelt. “He just jumped in and hauled me out.”

Rain darkened the forest ahead. Before long it was beating against Toklo's muzzle. He called to Yakone through the rising wind. “Let's stop here.”

Yakone nodded and turned his paws toward the trees. “I prefer snow,” he grunted, his ears flat against his head. He led Kallik, Lusa, and Chenoa through a swathe of brambles at the forest's edge until they were sheltering under the pines. “It sits on your fur; it doesn't try to get inside your pelt.”

Toklo shook water from his snout. Above, rain thrummed the trees, but only a few drops made it through the thick branches. He headed deeper into the shadows until, among the clustering trunks, he found a shallow scoop in the earth, soft with a thick coat of pine needles. “Over here.”

Kallik caught up with him and padded down into the dip. “Nice find, Toklo.” She settled down, and Yakone nestled beside her.

Chenoa curled up near the edge, wriggling to get comfortable. She scrabbled at the needles, hollowing her own nest. There was something awkward in her movements, as though she felt out of place. Toklo hesitated, wondering if he should curl up next to her.

Lusa beat him to it. She scrambled down beside Chenoa. “You must miss your own den.” She nestled beside the she-bear. “But you'll get used to sleeping in a new place every night.”

“I hope so.” Chenoa tucked her nose under her paws.

As her breath grew shallow with sleep, Toklo clambered down the slope and curled up beside Lusa. “Will she be okay?” he whispered.

“She's with friends now,” Lusa murmured. “She'll be fine.”

Soothed, Toklo closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him.

A twig cracked beside his ear. Alarmed, Toklo jerked up his head and growled.

“It's just me.” Chenoa was gazing down on him, glowing in the pale dawn light. Rain was still pattering on the branches, and Chenoa's black pelt was dripping. “Did you think I was a wolverine?” Her eyes flashed teasingly.

Toklo scrambled to his paws. “No.” Kallik, Yakone, and Lusa were still sleeping. “How long have you been up?”

Chenoa shrugged. “Before sunup. I couldn't sleep.”

Toklo smelled fish. “Have you been hunting?”

Chenoa lifted her muzzle toward a pile gathered at the top of the hollow. “I thought I'd make myself useful.”

“You don't have to hunt for us.” Toklo climbed the slope and sniffed the fish. They were still wet from the river. His mouth watered.

Chenoa bent and nosed one toward him. “I was standing in the shallows, and they kept leaping into my paws,” she joked. “It seemed rude to ignore them.”

Toklo crouched and began eating. His belly rumbled happily. Chenoa sat beside him and gazed down into the hollow. Toklo watched her from the corner of his eyes. She seemed distracted. “Are you okay?” he mumbled through a mouthful of fish.

“I guess.” She sighed. “I wonder how Hakan is.”

“He'll be fine,” Toklo promised. “And this won't always seem so strange. The traveling, I mean. We all found it hard at first.”