by Erin Hunter
Behind her, Toklo sighed heavily.
Please change your mind about Chenoa. Lusa held her breath, praying Toklo would relent and go back for the young she-bear. Pebbles swished as he padded away.
Disappointment jabbed Lusa’s belly. She lay still, listening to Kallik and Yakone calling to each other as they hunted in the river.
“The fish are slow here!”
“They’re swimming into my paws!”
“Come on, Toklo! Join us!”
Lusa lay limply. She’d slept all day, but tiredness dragged at her bones. Too weary to be angry, she let sleep draw her in again. She dreamed she was beside a river. A rowan tree stretched delicate branches above her head. Sunshine dappled through the leaves onto her back, and beneath her paws the earth felt soft.
Where am I? Lusa scanned the river, which was no more than a rippling brook. It didn’t look like any place she’d been before.
Paws scuffed the earth beside her.
Lusa turned, gasping in surprise. Ujurak!
The brown bear hadn’t changed since she’d last seen him. He was hardly bigger than she was. Cub fluff still softened his face. Yet his pelt was glossy, as though it had never been touched by wind or rain. His gaze met hers steadily, and Lusa realized she was wrong.
Ujurak had changed. She saw wisdom in his round, dark eyes. She looked closer. Is that starlight shining in them?
“It’s good to see you, Lusa!” Ujurak pressed his muzzle happily against her cheek.
“Where are we?” Lusa asked. “Why are you here? Is this your new home? Or is it my dream? Where are the others?”
“Lusa?” Ujurak interrupted her gently. “I have something to show you.”
Lusa frowned. “What?”
But Ujurak was already padding away, climbing the slope up from the brook, his paws hardly brushing the grass, leaving no pawprints as he wove between the slender trees. Lusa scampered after him, relieved to feel that her wounds hadn’t followed her into her dream. She broke into a gallop as Ujurak reached the top of the slope, and caught up with him as he stopped. Ahead, the trees opened into a clearing. Lusa’s eyes widened.
A full-grown brown bear was piling stones at the center of the clearing, wedging sticks between them to hold them in place, while a cub sat and watched her.
“It’s Toklo!” Lusa recognized the cub’s face, even though he was much younger than the bear she knew now. He had the same serious expression, his shoulders hunched with worry. Lusa turned to Ujurak. “That big bear’s Oka, isn’t it? His mother?”
Ujurak nodded. “She’s burying Tobi.”
Lusa’s heart twisted with grief. “Poor Oka!” Memories flashed in her mind of the Bear Bowl, where Oka had been brought at the end of her life, grieving for her lost cubs. Lusa could see the same grief now, knotted into Oka’s shoulders as she piled stone upon stone.
Lusa started forward, but Ujurak blocked her path. “No,” he murmured. “We are only here to watch.”
As he spoke, Toklo-cub got to his paws and padded over to his mother. Eyes round, he nudged her with his small, wet nose.
Oka whirled around with a snarl. “Get away!” With a mighty paw, she knocked him away.
Toklo staggered backward, his eyes wide with shock. “Mother?” He padded toward her again, head low, his gaze anxious.
“Get away!” Oka didn’t even turn this time, but kicked out with a hindpaw and knocked Toklo flying. He fell, sprawling, in the dirt.
Lusa yelped. “Why’s she doing that?”
Ujurak answered softly, “She doesn’t believe she can keep Toklo safe anymore.”
“That’s not true!” Mothers always kept their cubs safe.
“She lost Tobi even though she did everything she could to help him. She’s scared she’ll lose Toklo, too. She’d rather chase him away than go through the pain of another loss.”
“But isn’t chasing him away the same as losing him?” Lusa didn’t understand.
“No,” Ujurak told her. “She’ll be able to imagine that he’s still alive. She can’t do that with Tobi.”
Sadness swept through Lusa’s dreamworld. She could feel grief like a breeze rippling through the grass and making the leaves shiver. “Oka told me she’d driven Toklo away, when she was in the Bear Bowl. But I didn’t realize how awful that must have been.” She gazed back at Toklo as he circled the clearing, keeping a wary distance from Oka, his eyes clouded with sadness and confusion. “Poor Toklo!”
“And poor Oka,” Ujurak added. “She’s in so much pain. And she feels helpless to stop it from happening again.”
Lusa couldn’t drag her gaze from Toklo. “Is that why he’s so protective of me and Kallik? Because he’s scared of losing us like he lost Tobi and Oka?”
“He blamed himself for Tobi’s death. It had to be his fault, otherwise Oka’s anger made no sense.” Ujurak pressed against her. “But that was just the start. Toklo has lost so many bears since. With each loss, he’s blamed himself more. He feels responsible for everyone.”
Lusa blinked. “Including Chenoa!” She understood now. “If Chenoa joins us, she’ll be his responsibility. And he’s terrified of losing another bear.” She turned and stared at Ujurak. “Is that why you brought me here? So I’d understand?”
Ujurak was starting to fade, the trees showing through his hazy pelt. “Yes.” He turned and began to pad away.
“Wait!” Lusa tried to spring after him, but the dream dragged her back. “Please!” She wanted to tear free and race after him, but her paws wouldn’t move. “Come back!” Heart aching, she watched as Ujurak merged with the grass and the trees and became part of the forest.
She blinked open her eyes and found herself awake in her nest of bracken, beside Big River.
CHAPTER NINE
Toklo
Toklo dozed. He could half hear Kallik and Yakone splashing while Lusa fidgeted in her nest. He was trying to hide from the dull ache he’d had in his belly since leaving Chenoa.
Toklo! She called to him in his dreams. Help me, Toklo!
“I don’t have time.” Toklo growled, half-awake. “I have to get home!” He rolled over, tucking his nose under his paw and squeezing his eyes tight shut.
A paw jabbed his ribs.
“Go away.” Toklo screwed his eyes tighter shut.
“Toklo.” It was Lusa.
“I can’t help you.”
“Yes, you can.” Lusa’s paw prodded him again. “We have to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk, I want to sleep.”
“Toklo!”
Grumpily, Toklo sat up. “What?” Purple clouds streaked the sky. The day was drawing in. Upstream, Kallik and Yakone lay in the shallows, letting the cool water stream around them.
Lusa gazed at them. “Don’t they ever get cold?”
“Is that why you woke me?” Toklo glared at her. “To ask if white bears get cold?”
“No.” The breeze lifted Lusa’s pelt. Toklo realized that it carried the chill of the Melting Sea even here. “I just wish they liked being warm,” Lusa said. “Then I wouldn’t feel guilty, wishing for sunshine.”
Toklo pictured walking beneath the wide blue sky beside Oka and Tobi with the sun hot on his back. “When Tobi and I were cubs, I thought that there was only sunshine and water in the whole world.”
Lusa gazed calmly into his eyes. “You must miss Tobi.”
She woke me up to ask about Tobi? Toklo’s paws pricked with irritation. “So?”
“But you don’t like talking about him.”
“He’s dead. There’s not much to talk about.”
“So you’re not going to think about him ever again?” Lusa sounded angry.
“No.” Why did she suddenly care about Tobi?
“Are you never going to think of Chenoa, either?”
“Chenoa?” Had a bee flown into Lusa’s ear? “What are you talking about?”
“I know why you left her,” Lusa declared. “You were scared she’d end up traveling with us, and yo
u don’t want to be responsible for another bear.”
“I just want to get home, that’s all.”
“Then why not let her travel with us? Her legs are as long as mine. She wouldn’t hold us up.”
Toklo opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Lusa went on. “You feel responsible for Tobi’s death, don’t you? When Oka drove you away, you thought it was because you’d let him die.” She shook her head fiercely. “That’s not true. It wasn’t your fault he died. It wasn’t your fault Ujurak left. And the wolverines attacked me because I ran away, not because you didn’t stop them.”
How do you know I feel like that? Toklo stared in astonishment as more words flooded from the black bear.
“You’re not responsible for us, Toklo. You may be bigger and stronger than me. You may be more used to the forest than Kallik or Yakone. But it doesn’t mean you have to protect us from everything. We’ve traveled as far as you, Kallik and I. We’ve seen the same things and survived the same dangers. Our fate is our own. Our lives are not in your paws.” She sat back on her haunches and stared at him. “Do you understand?”
Toklo felt unease tightening his belly. “But I have to look after you.”
“No! You don’t!” Lusa pressed her muzzle against his cheek. “We travel with you because you’re good and kind and loyal. Not because we need you to look after us. We look after one another. You’re not responsible for everyone. And if Chenoa traveled with us, you wouldn’t be responsible for her, either.”
Toklo felt suddenly light, his breath coming deeper and easier than it had for a long while. He understood why Lusa had woken him. “You want me to go back for Chenoa.”
She nodded.
“Can we trust her?” Toklo gazed along the shoreline. “Remember Nanulak? I trusted him, but he lied from the start.”
Lusa shrugged. “That was Nanulak, not Chenoa. Chenoa hasn’t asked us for anything. But you’ve seen how Hakan bullies her. And you know that if he keeps blaming her for their mother’s death, she’ll never stop grieving.”
Something seemed to loosen in Toklo’s chest.
Lusa pressed on. “She needs our help, Toklo.”
“But I’m going home.” Toklo dipped his head. “What’s going to happen to Chenoa when I get there?”
“She’ll still have me.” Lusa stared at him. “She can help me find my home.”
Toklo blinked. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to Lusa when he reached the mountains. He stiffened. Lusa alone? But not if Chenoa was with them . . . His belly tightened. “I’ll go back for her.”
“I’m coming, too.” Lusa paced in front of him.
“No.” Toklo was firm. “You’re injured. Besides, Chenoa already trusts me. She’ll believe me when I tell her she can’t waste her life trying to make Hakan happy.”
Along the shore, Kallik and Yakone got to their paws and shook water from their pelts. The droplets traced an arc through the air, turning sunshine into rainbows.
Toklo frowned. “What if she doesn’t want to come with us?”
“Then at least you’ve given her the choice.”
“You’re right.” Chenoa’s not like Nanulak. She’d fought wolverines. She’d saved Lusa’s life. Letting her travel with them was a way to thank her. Toklo stared downriver, his gaze wandering back the way they’d come. How could he think of leaving her with Hakan? Chenoa deserved a better life. He began to stride along the shore, against the flow of the waves.
“Toklo?” Kallik scrambled across the rocks and skidded to a halt beside Lusa.
Yakone lingered behind, his pelt dripping. “Are you going somewhere?”
Toklo paused. “I’m going to find Chenoa.”
Kallik gasped. “You’re going to ask her to travel with us!”
“Yes.” Toklo glanced at Lusa. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“Will she be able to keep up?” Yakone warned. “We’re used to walking all day. She’s not.”
Lusa huffed. “If she was ready to take on a bunch of wolverines, then she’ll be ready for anything.”
Toklo headed downstream, leaving his friends behind. He heard them whispering to one another.
“What made him change his mind?”
“Should he go alone?”
“He’ll be fine,” Lusa answered Kallik and Yakone. Their voices melted into the river as Toklo leaped from boulder to boulder along the rocky shoreline. He knew he was doing the right thing. Energy surged through his paws. He quickened his pace. The light was fading, the shallows turning black beneath the darkening clouds. He tasted the air for scents, hoping Chenoa and Hakan hadn’t already left for their territory. Their black bear scent still hung fresh on the air. They were traveling along the shore.
Toklo broke into a run, scrambling over the rocks. As he rounded the foot of a hill, he spotted a shape balanced on a boulder, far out in the white water.
Chenoa.
She was watching the river foam around her paws. Taut as a bobcat, she leaned over the frothing water. Any moment now, she’d lunge forward and grab for a fish. Toklo waited, not wanting to disturb her mid-hunt.
Suddenly, paws slammed into his back. Flying forward, he gasped at the weight of the blow. Black fur flashed behind him.
Hakan!
Toklo scrabbled to regain his footing, but it was too late. His forelegs slid into the water, and he tumbled after. His cheek hit the pebbly riverbed. He floundered, trying to find his paws. Grabbing at rocks, he broke the surface and turned.
Hakan reared up at him from the bank. “I told you not to come back!” With a roar, the black bear lunged forward. He hit Toklo like a rock slide, sending him staggering back. With a gasp, Toklo sank once more beneath the water. Paws pressed him down, grinding his spine into the pebbles.
Panic fired through Toklo. He struggled, trying to free himself from Hakan’s grip, but the paws pressed harder. Bubbles streamed around his snout. He could see the dark green of the forest swirling beyond the surface. His chest began to scream. Toklo closed his eyes.
Suddenly he felt Hakan’s hind legs beside his. Hope flashed. With a mighty kick, he thrust his hindpaws against Hakan’s. The claws in his pelt pressed harder for a moment, then slid away.
Toklo exploded to the surface and took a huge gulp of air. Water sprayed his muzzle. He lunged for the bank, scrabbling for dry land. No one was going to drown him! But Hakan grabbed him and dragged him back.
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!”
CHAPTER TEN
Toklo
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.
