Spirits in the Stars

by Erin Hunter

  “Stay here and play, little one,” Kallik told him. “Don’t wander away. I’ll come back for you very soon.”

  Kissimi nodded happily; Kallik made for the beach, where the others were padding up and down, exploring the bay. She stood still and sniffed; close to the sea the ice still smelled clean. There were no leaking pipes here; there was no disgusting black mud to defile the sea with its stink.

  “This place looks good for seals,” Toklo remarked, halting beside her.

  “It does, but we can’t be sure yet,” Kallik replied. “Not until we’ve looked under the ice. That’s where the seals and fish spend most of their time. We have to be certain that there’s no poison in the water.”

  Lusa stared out at the ice, her eyes wide with dismay. “But how will we be able to do that? That ice is thick!”

  “I’ll look for a breathing hole,” Kallik replied, beginning to head out onto the ice.

  “But won’t that mean there are other seals living here?” Lusa asked. “They might not let the seals from the cove come live here.”

  Kallik glanced back. “Maybe. But I don’t have a better idea.”

  She ranged back and forth across the ice within the curve of the bay, but at first she found nothing. Almost ready to give up, she was on her way back to the beach when she spotted a darker patch a little farther ahead. Drawing closer, she found a ragged hole in the ice, already starting to close up.

  It looks as if there was a seal here, but quite a while ago. If there were seals here now, there would be more than this one hole.

  Taking a deep breath, Kallik plunged her head through the hole, right down into the sea. The cold shock rushed through her, sending a tingle of energy through her whole body to the tips of her paws.

  Opening her eyes, she saw that the sea was dark but there was no dirt in it. With a satisfied grunt she pulled back, taking a huge gulp of air. Carefully she swiped her tongue around her jaws; all she could taste was salt and the wild tang of the ocean.

  “Well?” Toklo was plodding over to her across the ice, followed closely by Lusa and Ujurak. “What did you find?”

  “It’s clean,” Kallik reported. “This really could be what we’re looking for.”

  “Then we should go and tell—” Lusa began.

  She was interrupted by a loud squeaking from farther inshore. “K’lik! K’lik!” Kallik turned her head to see that Kissimi was scampering across the ice toward them.

  Warm happiness spread through Kallik. He knows my name!

  As Kissimi hurtled toward her, his paws skidded on the ice. He let out a shrill cry of exhilaration as he slid forward with the wind flattening his soft fur to his sides.

  Kallik’s happiness turned to horror. “Kissimi, watch out!” she shouted, hurling herself toward him.

  But she was too late. Before any bear could reach out to stop him, Kissimi fell with a splash into the breathing hole. His excited squeal became a startled wail; then his head went underwater.

  “No!” Kallik exclaimed.

  For a moment of heart-stopping panic she thought that the young cub had vanished completely. Then she spotted him underneath the ice, scratching feebly at the underside with his paws. His eyes were wide and terrified.

  Kallik crouched beside the hole and plunged a paw into the water, but Kissimi was just too far away for her to grab him; all she managed to do was push the cub farther away still.

  Beside her Toklo reared up on his hindpaws. “I’ll break the ice,” he grunted, his forepaws poised to crash through it.

  “No!” Kallik thrust herself in front of him. “You’ll hurt him!”

  “I’ll save him.” Ujurak spoke behind them, tense but calm. “Wait here.”

  He bounded over to the hole. Kallik watched in breathless hope as his body shrank and his brown fur vanished, to be replaced by a gleaming gray-brown pelt. In the shape of a sleek seal he dove into the hole, his slim form just brushing the sides.

  Gazing down, Kallik saw Ujurak’s dark shape curl around Kissimi. The cub thrashed with his paws as if he was afraid and trying to escape. But Ujurak nudged him safely back to the hole, where Kallik bent down and sank her teeth into the cub’s scruff, hauling him out onto the ice.

  “What did I tell you?” she growled as Kissimi lay with his paws splayed out, coughing up water. “I said stay by the river! You might have died!”

  “Hey, take it easy.” Lusa pressed comfortingly against Kallik’s side. “He’s only little. He doesn’t understand about danger.”

  “Then it’s time he learned!” Kallik snapped. She thought that her heart would never stop thumping. “Oh, little one, what if I’d lost you?” She bent her head and started to lick the seawater out of Kissimi’s fur.

  “He got a bad scare,” Lusa went on. “And on top of being stuck under the ice, the way he was fighting looked like he thought Ujurak-seal was going to eat him! I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”

  “I hope so,” Kallik muttered between licks.

  Ujurak pulled himself out of the hole, changing back from a seal to a brown bear and shaking the water from his pelt. Kallik looked up to see a huge fish flapping helplessly in his jaws.

  “Great catch!” Toklo said, his eyes gleaming hungrily.

  Ujurak dropped the fish on the ice and killed it with a bite to the back of its head. “There,” he said. “It smells fine. Proof that the water here is clean.”

  All the bears gathered around. Kallik felt herself growing calmer as she took her first bite, relishing the delicious taste. “Here, Kissimi,” she said, tearing off a small shred of the fish and chewing it up before dropping the pulp in front of her cub. “You can try your first taste of food from the ocean.”

  She watched the tiny cub as he nibbled the fish cautiously at first, then gulped it down with gleaming eyes and looked around for more. Kallik’s heart pounded painfully in her chest; she had never imagined that loving someone could hurt as much as this.

  “Ujurak, thank you,” she said. “I’ll never forget how you saved Kissimi.”

  Ujurak dipped his head. “Anytime.”

  Kallik blinked at him, wanting to say more, then was distracted as Kissimi nudged her paw impatiently with his nose.

  “Okay, okay, more fish coming up,” Kallik said. “Soon you’ll be catching these yourself,” she promised, preparing another mouthful for him.

  Kissimi glanced back at the breathing hole, shuddered, and let out a squeak.

  Lusa huffed with amusement. “He says not if he has to go near the water again!”

  When the last scraps of the fish were eaten, the bears headed back toward their den. While they were still climbing up the slope from the bay, the first flakes of snow began to fall, rapidly growing thicker and thicker until the way ahead was almost hidden behind a whirling white screen.

  “This is all we need,” Toklo grunted.

  The wind picked up, blowing into their faces, until they were forcing their way into the teeth of a blizzard. Kallik could hear Kissimi whimpering unhappily and realized how cold and tired he must be. She felt his tiny paws clinging to a tuft of her fur.

  “Don’t let go, little one,” she warned him. “I’d never find you in all this snow.”

  Lusa had taken the lead, with Toklo just behind her, nose to tail so as not to lose her, then Kallik, and last of all Ujurak. They plodded through the thickening snow; Kallik wasn’t sure if they were heading in the right direction any longer.

  Up ahead a startled yelp came from Lusa, and her black shape, scarcely visible through the driving snow, suddenly vanished. Toklo stopped so abruptly that Kallik almost blundered into him.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “This is the gorge,” Toklo replied, glancing over his shoulder at Kallik. Snow was thick on his muzzle and around his eyes, and he sounded as if he was struggling to repress panic. “Lusa stepped over the edge.”

  Kallik’s belly lurched with anxiety. “Is she okay? Lusa!”

  “The snow’s thick enough
,” Ujurak pointed out as he joined them. “It would be soft to fall on.” Kallik suspected he was trying to sound more confident than he felt.

  “I’ll probably have to drag her out of another drift,” Toklo muttered under his breath as he began heading down the steep slope, stepping sideways through the deep, soft snow so that he wouldn’t slip.

  Kallik and Ujurak tried to walk in his steps, but the shifting snow made it almost impossible.

  “Lusa! Lusa!” Kallik called as she floundered around in the sea of white, and she thought she heard an answering cry beneath the whining of the wind.

  Peering through the snow, she spotted a black boulder just ahead; as she drew closer it turned into Lusa.

  “Thank the spirits!” Kallik exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Lusa replied, though she sounded shaken. “Do you think we should shelter down here until the wind drops?”

  Through the whirling snow Kallik could see that they had reached the bottom of the gorge. “We could make a temporary den,” she began, “Kissimi could do with—”

  She broke off. A rumble of thunder sounded through the gorge.

  “Thunder?” Ujurak sounded puzzled. “In a blizzard?”

  For a moment Kallik froze. She knew something was wrong. The sound was growing louder and louder with every breath she took. The snow beneath her paws was trembling, and a thin layer started to shift around them.

  “Something’s coming down the gorge!” she exclaimed.

  “Run!” Toklo barked.

  Side by side the bears struggled to scramble up the far side of the gorge. But the newly fallen snow was soft and powdery, and it shifted under their paws. Kallik found that she was sinking into it as far as her belly fur, and there was nothing solid for her paws to grip. She floundered a few steps upward and slid down again in a flurry of snow.

  The thundering sound grew louder still, and suddenly a herd of caribou lurched out of the blizzard. Something had spooked them, and their hooves pounded through the snow as they galloped down the gorge in terror, a moving wall of hooves and antlers, bearing down on Kallik.

  The white bear froze, staring in horror. Kissimi! What can I do?

  “Kallik!” Toklo’s voice sounded urgently from just above her. “Kallik, up here!”

  Kallik looked up to see the brown bear perched on a rock a couple of bearlengths above her head. He was peering down at her, gesturing urgently with one paw.

  “Up here!” he repeated.

  Desperately Kallik launched herself upward, thrusting Kissimi in front of her. Toklo leaned down from the rock and grabbed the cub in his jaws. Kallik tried to follow, but as she scrambled toward the rock, she felt her paws slipping under her. Snow cascaded around her as she fell back to the bottom of the gorge, under the hooves of the caribou.

  One pointed hoof struck her on her shoulder as she struggled to regain her paws. She fell back again, scrabbling sideways toward the foot of the slope, but another set of flying hooves caught her on her back. The terrified caribou trampled her as she fought frantically to climb back up. In the chaos of thundering hooves she thought she could hear the bears calling her name. Then blinding pain shot through her head; the gorge wheeled around her, a sickening whirl of white. She gave up her struggles, lying limp and helpless. The white gradually darkened to gray as her senses faded, then to a black sky filled with stars, and the tumult of the fleeing caribou faded to silence.

  Kallik opened her eyes on a world of unbroken white. There was no wind, no falling snow, no sound of thundering hooves.

  Am I dead? she wondered. Nisa, where are you?

  A face loomed over her, but it was black, not white; blinking, Kallik recognized Lusa. Toklo and Ujurak were just behind her; Kissimi was clinging to Ujurak’s fur.

  “Thank Arcturus you’re all right!” Lusa gasped.

  Kissimi let out a loud squeal. Wriggling out of Toklo’s grasp, he hurled himself at Kallik’s chest, bouncing up and down.

  “Gently, little one,” she muttered, encircling him with a paw.

  Kallik’s heart thumped harder as she realized that she had thrust Kissimi to safety just as her mother, Nisa, had thrust her away from the orca. She would have died for Kissimi, just as Nisa had died for her. New strength and determination gathered inside her as she felt herself treading in her mother’s pawsteps.

  Slowly the white bear rose to her paws, testing each leg to make sure she could stand on it. Her body ached all over from the caribou’s hooves, but nothing seemed to be seriously damaged. “I’m okay,” she said.

  All along the gorge the caribou had churned up the snow, a trail that broke up the untouched whiteness as far as Kallik could see in both directions.

  “What on earth spooked them?” she asked, not expecting a reply.

  Toklo shrugged and shook his head.

  “They went past too quickly,” Ujurak said. “I couldn’t sense anything from them except fear. But I think we should get out of here, in case they come back.”

  “Good idea,” Toklo agreed.

  He led the way a little farther up the gorge until they came to a place where the sides were lower and it was easier to climb. Twilight was falling by the time they reached the top.

  As they trudged on, the lights of the no-claw denning area came into sight; Kallik could hear noise coming from there, and the sound of seals barking.

  “We did it!” she said, satisfaction flooding through her. “We found clean water, and we got back safely.”

  “We did.” Lusa’s voice was confident. “And tomorrow we move the seals.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ujurak

  Black waves lapped at the pebbles as Ujurak padded down the beach and waded out into the ocean. As the water’s icy claws sank deep into his fur, he scanned the surface for the bobbing heads of seals, but he couldn’t see a single one.

  Strange. This is the bears’ hunting ground, so where are the seals?

  The black water rose rapidly around Ujurak as he waded farther, and he plunged downward as it closed over his head. Swimming underwater, he kept his bear shape, resisting the urge to take the sleek form of a seal.

  He felt a stab of panic as the water grew darker and darker and he still couldn’t find any seals.

  Have they all left? Will I ever find them?

  Then suddenly the seals were all around him, shadowy, supple shapes swarming everywhere, gliding around him but never touching him. Their eyes glinted at him, shining brighter and brighter in the dark depths of the ocean, until Ujurak suddenly realized that they weren’t eyes—they were stars.

  The water had vanished. Now Ujurak was swimming through the night sky, surrounded by stars that blazed so brightly he had to blink against them. When he looked down, he could see the icy island far, far below him, and on the seashore three tiny dots that he knew were Toklo, Lusa, and Kallik.

  No! Ujurak’s panic returned, flooding over him in vast waves. His paws thrashed helplessly at the air. I’m going to fall!

  Then a quiet voice sounded alongside him. “Don’t be afraid. You’re quite safe with me.”

  With a rush of relief and love, Ujurak recognized the voice of his mother, Ursa. She was all around him, her starry body enfolding him with the softest brush of fur. Ujurak reveled in her touch, realizing that he had never felt more at home.

  Looking down at himself, Ujurak saw that his fur was full of stars, too, blending into his mother’s fur so that he couldn’t be sure where he ended and she began. He gazed up into her shining eyes, content not to question.

  “Do not fear,” Ursa whispered. “I am waiting for you.”

  The cold touch of snowmelt trickling through his fur woke Ujurak. He was curled up in the snow-den under the thorns, tucked in among the sleeping bodies of his friends. Pale dawn light was seeping through the entrance.

  For a moment Ujurak blinked in disappointment, yearning for the stars and the soft touch of his mother’s fur again. Then he remembered that this was the day they
had to move the seals to the bay they had discovered, and his memory of the dream was swallowed up in apprehension.

  The other bears began stirring around him; Toklo parted his jaws in an enormous yawn. Ujurak wriggled between him and Kallik and scrambled out into the crisp dawn air, waiting for the others to join him.

  They were all quiet, exchanging quick glances with one another. Their confidence of the previous day had ebbed like the tide. Ujurak could tell that they were all sharing the same thought: This is a huge task! Can we really do what we promised?

  Lusa was the first to break the silence. “Come on! We have to do this.”

  Pride in her courage warmed Ujurak like a ray of sunlight. He remembered how Aga had called Lusa “Tungulria.”

  “Hurry up, Kissimi.” Kallik nuzzled her cub and crouched down so that he could scramble up onto her shoulders. “We’re going to visit some seals.”

  The little cub let out a plaintive wail as he settled himself in Kallik’s fur. Ujurak guessed that he was hungry; it had been a long time since they’d shared the fish he had caught.

  “I don’t blame you, little one,” Ujurak muttered; he could feel the hollowness in his own belly. “I’m hungry, too!”

  “Are you sure you should take Kissimi with you?” Toklo asked. His voice was concerned; he seemed to have lost a lot of his hostility toward the cub. “Remember what happened with the caribou.”

  “I’m not leaving him behind!” Kallik’s head whipped around, and she gave Toklo a searing glare. “You never know what might be lurking, just waiting to take a cub who can’t defend himself.”

  Toklo shrugged. “Okay, calm down. It was just a suggestion.”

  Kallik hesitated, then nodded, her anger fading as if she realized that Toklo was concerned for Kissimi, too. She set off in the direction of the old seal hunting ground, with a glance back to see if the others were following.

  Is she really afraid that something will harm Kissimi? Ujurak wondered as he padded after her. Or is she worried that one of Aga’s bears will find the cub?

  With Kallik in the lead, they skirted the flat-face denning area, where a few lights were showing among the dens. The only sound was a flat-face voice, then another answering it, but they were faint with distance, and Ujurak realized they were no threat.