The Quest Begins (22 page)

Muttering to himself, Toklo looked back down at the water. They'd probably scared off any salmon with all that splashing and hollering. But wait—something silvery pink was gliding toward them. He crouched, gauging its speed, ready to pounce where it was
going
to be.

“AHA!” Ujurak yelled. He sprang forward with all paws, crashing into the river with an enormous splash. The salmon shot out from under him as a cascade of water poured over Toklo, filling his ears and momentarily blinding him.

“Ujurak!” Toklo shouted, batting at his muzzle. “You're as dopey as a black bear!” He shook his head and opened his eyes.

Ujurak was gone.

“WHAT?” Toklo growled. He spun around, searching the trees and the sky. “Ujurak, you turn back into a bear RIGHT NOW.”

Something slithered by his paws and he nearly pounced instinctively. But he stopped himself before his claws sank into the fish, realizing that it could be Ujurak.

“Oh, I don't believe it,” he muttered at the river. Well, now he was stuck. He couldn't keep fishing in case he caught Ujurak. “I
should
eat you!” he yelled. “That might teach you a lesson!”

He scrambled out onto shore and shook his head hard, trying to force the water out of his ears. As his hearing cleared, he caught the sound of voices from farther downstream.

Uh-oh. Other bears—and they were fishing.

“No!” he shouted, galloping along the bank. Just around a bend, the river widened into a small pool surrounded by spindly trees. Two grizzlies were standing in the water, looking up at him with startled expressions.

“Don't eat the salmon!” Toklo shouted. His fur burned with embarrassment. He must sound completely crazy.

“What on earth are you talking about?” said the female grizzly.

“I haven't eaten in days,” growled the other grizzly. “If I catch a fish, I am
certainly
eating it.”

“You can't keep the river to yourself. Get lost, cub,” snarled the first bear. They both turned their attention back to the water.

Toklo tried to figure out how long it would take the Ujurak-salmon to get to the pool. The grizzlies were too big for him to fight. He had to think of something else. “They're poisoned!” he blurted out. “The salmon—they'll make you sick!”

The she-bear narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean? How do you know?”

Toklo shuffled his paws, trying to look pitiful. “Because that's what happened to my mother,” he whimpered. “Why else would I be all alone? She ate the salmon from this river and then she
died
.”

The male grizzly reared up on his hind legs with a growl. “Salmon from this river?” he demanded. “Are you sure?”

Toklo nodded earnestly. “It was awful,” he said. “Her stomach got all hard and she smelled funny and then she threw up and then she lay down moaning and then she
died
.”

The she-bear waded quickly out of the river, but the male looked back down at the water as if he wasn't sure Toklo was telling the truth.

“Maybe it wasn't the salmon,” Toklo said innocently. “Although that was the only thing she'd eaten in days. But I guess you could try eating it and see what happens.”

The bear let out a low rumbling growl and dropped to all fours, then shambled out of the river. “This better not be a trick,” he snarled as he padded past Toklo. “If I turn around and find you eating one of these fish—”

“Trust me, you won't,” Toklo said.

“Thanks for the warning, cub,” the she-bear growled. The two grizzlies paced off into the trees. Toklo waited until they were gone, then collapsed on the sand. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it might come racing out of his chest. He'd just scared away two big grizzlies! He couldn't believe that they'd believed his wild story.

A fierce bubbling started in the water a short way out, and Toklo sat up. He watched as a furry muzzle suddenly poked out of the water, followed by bony shoulders and shimmering flippers melting into shaggy paws. A few moments later Ujurak dragged himself out of the pool, dripping wet and coughing up water. He slumped down next to Toklo, gasping for air.

Toklo just glared at him.

Ujurak's sides heaved. He looked up at Toklo, shivering. “I'm…
really
sorry,” he said.

“You should be!” Toklo roared. “I nearly got mauled by two grizzlies trying to make sure you didn't get eaten!”

“Oh, wow,” Ujurak said, his eyes enormous. “Thank you so much. See, I
knew
we'd be good traveling companions!”

“You really do have bees in your brain,” Toklo said. “I don't know if you've spent too much time as a smooth-pelt or whatever, but you don't have the sense of a newborn cub. I can't go any farther with you, Ujurak. It's too dangerous and…and weird.”

Ujurak's shoulders drooped. “But I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don't turn into salmon and nearly get their friends killed,” Toklo snapped, thinking how ridiculous he sounded. “You're on your own now.”

He turned and stalked off into the trees. Ujurak's gaze felt like the sun scorching his shoulders, but Toklo kept walking. He was a lone bear. He didn't need to travel with anyone.

He followed the scent of the other grizzlies for a short
distance, until he was sure that they'd headed down into the valley. Then he circled back up into the trees, climbing higher as the sun slid slowly down the sky. He spotted the bear spirit star before it was fully dark, while the sky was still turning from light blue to deep purple. It shone brightly, and he wondered if Ujurak was looking up at it, bounding along cheerfully on his mysterious journey.

Maybe he should just check and make sure Ujurak hadn't crossed the path of the other two bears.

He turned back, weaving through the trees in a straight line toward the sound of the river. The mountains above him were black shapes fading into the night sky, and the trees around him glowed in the moonlight. Toklo found the river and padded along it toward the pool, keeping his nose down in search of Ujurak's scent. He hoped he would find it heading away from the river up the mountain.

But as he came around the bend of the river, he saw a small dark form huddled on the muddy bank of the pool. Toklo picked up speed, trotting faster until he was running through the sand. He skidded to a stop beside the cub.

Ujurak was sleeping. His sides rose and fell evenly, and a tiny buzzing sound came from his nose. Scattered through his fur were leaves that had fallen from the trees during the day, and patches of dirt from where he had dragged himself out of the river. Toklo looked down at him, remembering another small cub covered in dirt and leaves.

He couldn't leave Ujurak alone. It was a miracle the cub had survived this long—without Toklo, he would be killed or
eaten or maybe even squashed; Toklo didn't know if Ujurak turned into bugs as well. But he was definitely helpless, and Toklo didn't want another bear spirit following him around like Tobi's seemed to.

With a sigh, he stretched out next to Ujurak and pressed his fur against the cub's, sharing his warmth. Ujurak murmured happily in his sleep and wriggled closer.

Toklo looked up at the star, glinting through the trees. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “But it's only until he can take care of himself.”

Kallik half opened her eyes. She
was pressed up against Nanuk, the older bear's fur brushing against her nose. It wasn't the same as being out on the ice, but it was nice not to be running away from things all the time, and at least her paws weren't so sore and battered. She just wished the no-claws would give them some food.

“Kallik,” Nanuk murmured, nudging her. “Kallik, wake up. It's time to go.”

Kallik blinked and pawed at her eyes. She could hear the pawsteps of the no-claws coming closer. She opened her eyes fully and sat up. There were more no-claws outside the cage than she'd ever seen before, and they carried sticks and webs and other strange things in their paws.

“Don't be scared,” Nanuk whispered. “The no-claws are going to put us to sleep, but not forever. It's like what they did to get you here. You'll be asleep just while they take us to the place where the ice comes first.”

“We're going back to the ice?” Kallik gasped, jumping to her paws.

Nanuk nodded. “They'll leave us close to the edge of the bay, far from here. When the ice returns, we'll be waiting.”

Kallik tried to be brave, but as the no-claws approached, she pushed her nose into Nanuk's fur. “I'm scared,” she whimpered. “What if we never wake up? Or what if they take us so far away that I'll never be able to find Taqqiq?” She looked up at Nanuk. “Do you think he'll be there, too?”

“I'm sure he will be,” Nanuk said. She touched her nose to the top of Kallik's head, and Kallik curled up in the curve of her side. “Don't be scared. Just think about the ice. Think about eating seals, and running across shining white snow, and playing with your brother where the stars shine all night long.”

Kallik held her breath, waiting to feel the sharp scratch in her side. It hurt, but not as much as last time. As she slipped into sleep, she thought of Taqqiq. Would he be there when she woke up, waiting for the ice to return, too?

 

Kallik opened her eyes with a start. A cold wind was rushing through her fur. She was curled up on Nanuk's belly, surrounded by a strong web. Something was not right; it was too windy, and there was a strange swaying sensation, a bit like the waves on the sea. Something was thudding and rumbling above her, making the web tremble. She looked up and saw the belly of an enormous metal bird above her, its wings whirring in a circle and letting out a high-pitched roaring
sound, unlike any bird she'd ever seen before.

She peeked over Nanuk's side and her heart nearly stopped. The ground was skylengths and skylengths below her! She was flying in the air!

Kallik let out a panicked shriek and scrambled over the web, clawing at the thick tendrils. Sleet flew in her face, stinging her eyes.

“Shh, shhhh,”
Nanuk's voice said. One of her paws encircled Kallik and drew her back onto Nanuk's belly. “Keep still,” she said. “The bird is carrying us. It'll be all right.”

“But we're flying!” Kallik whimpered. “Bears don't fly! It's so cold and we're so high and how is this happening?”

“Shhhh,”
Nanuk said. “Keep still and breathe in. Can you smell that?”

Kallik lay quiet and let the air rush into her nose. “It smells like ice,” she said. “It smells like home.”

“That's right,” Nanuk said. “We're going home. Everything will be all right, little one.”

Kallik buried her head in Nanuk's fur, trying not to think about how far above the ground they were. The wind was getting stronger, making the web sway back and forth. The air was thick with the scent of an approaching storm, and freezing rain blew through the holes in the web, coating their fur with icy crystals.

“When we get there,” Kallik whispered, “can I stay with you?”

Nanuk rested one paw on Kallik's flank, holding her still. “Yes, you can.”

 

Somehow Kallik slipped into a doze. She was jolted awake again when the web lurched, nearly sending her sliding off Nanuk's belly. The wind had dropped, and they were surrounded by something thick and white and fluffy. They'd been eaten by a cloud!

“It's only fog,” Nanuk said. “Just like you get on the ice.”

Kallik peered over Nanuk's flank. She couldn't see the ground anymore. Just billowing fog, hanging in the air, muffling the sound of the metal bird above them. From the sound of it, the metal bird didn't like flying in the fog. It sounded distressed, its wings whining and clattering. Kallik looked up. Her fur was tingling. Something bad was happening.

As Kallik stared up through the cloud, the spinning wings began to tilt and sputter. Then they stopped completely, and the bird plunged straight down, howling louder than the wind.

Kallik could see the bare brown ground now, getting closer very quickly. Not even birds landed this fast! She shrieked and buried her head in Nanuk's fur as the ground rushed up toward them. Nanuk's paws clutched her closer, and she could hear the older bear's heart pounding beneath her ribs.

“What's happening?” Kallik shouted.

Nanuk didn't answer. All at once there was a sound like thunder and the sky flashed orange as the bird burst into flames, the heat scorching Kallik's fur. They slammed into the ground and everything went black.

 

When Kallik awoke, she was soaking wet, as if she'd been lying in the rain for a while. She blinked, feeling a heavy weight against her side, and for a moment the brush of the cold air and the warmth at her back made her think she was back in her BirthDen with Nisa and Taqqiq. Then she smelled the stench of burning metal, and she remembered where she was.

“Nanuk!” she cried, squirming free. “Nanuk, are you all right?” She tore at the web around them, shoving the tendrils aside as she clambered up to Nanuk's face. The older bear's eyes were closed, and she felt cold beneath her fur.

“Nanuk,” Kallik whimpered. “Wake up. It's me, Kallik.”

The other bear stirred. She turned her head and coughed, and a bright red spatter of blood hit the dirt beside her.

“Oh, Nanuk, you're hurt!” Kallik cried. “What should I do?”

Nanuk opened her eyes and looked at Kallik. “Find your brother,” she said hoarsely. Another fit of coughing wracked her body and more blood splattered onto the muddy ground.

“But I want to stay with you. I thought we were going to look for him together.”

“I can't come with you,” Nanuk croaked. “You must be strong. You
are
strong, stronger than you know. You'll be all right.”

“But what about you?”

“It is time for me to join the ice spirits,” Nanuk whispered, laying her head back with a sigh. “You will have to go without me. Go to the place where the ice never melts and the bear spirits dance in many colors.”

Kallik gasped. “Is that place real? I thought…perhaps it was just a story.”

“It is real,” Nanuk murmured, her eyes closing. “I know it is.” Her voice faded, whisked away by the wind that had begun to howl around them.

“Wait!” Kallik cried. “How do you know? Please tell me more, please, Nanuk, please don't die!” She shook Nanuk with her paws, trying to push the older bear up. But Nanuk was heavy and cold, and her sides were still.

Kallik pressed her nose into Nanuk's fur. “I'll miss you,” she whispered. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She backed away, untangling herself from the web. The air was thick with smoke from the wreck of the metal bird. It crackled and popped like a death stick, and flames were shooting out of it into the sky. Although it was dark, Kallik couldn't see the stars through the stinging smoke and sparks.

She started to run, not caring which direction she was going as long as she got away from the burning bird. She could feel the mud squishing under her paws and the wind blowing sleet in her face. As she reached the top of a long slope, she turned to look back at the flaming wreckage of the bird and the still white shape of Nanuk lying not far from it.

“Good-bye, Nanuk,” she murmured. “I'll go to the place of Endless Ice, just like you said. And maybe, if that's where the spirits dance, I'll find you there as well.”