Smoke Mountain

by Erin Hunter

  Ujurak saw her eyes open, and his face lit up. ‘You’re alive!’

  ‘Ujurak,’ Lusa whispered hoarsely. ‘I had a dream.’

  ‘Shhh, just rest,’ he said.

  She felt as if it were terribly urgent to tell him about it, even though her throat hurt when she spoke. ‘It was so strange,’ she said. ‘I thought I was going to die, and then my mother told me –’

  ‘You must save the wild,’ Ujurak said. ‘I know. I’ve had that dream too.’ He pressed a mixture of herbs on to her leg.

  ‘Ow!’

  Lusa tried to wriggle around to see it and felt a fierce slashing pain all through her body. Just then, paws thudded on the cave floor as Kallik and Toklo galloped in.

  ‘You’re awake!’ Kallik cried. ‘Lusa, you’re alive!’

  Kallik’s face went blurry as Lusa’s eyes drooped shut. When she opened them again, her friends were still there, but she must have fallen asleep for a while. The light from outside was different, and the sound of the rain had ebbed.

  Kallik crept closer and offered Lusa a pawful of wet moss. Lusa lapped up the moisture gratefully. Her mouth felt dry as bark.

  ‘You scared us so much,’ Kallik said. ‘I’m so glad you woke up.’

  Toklo just stared at her.

  ‘Where are we?’ Lusa asked. The last thing she remembered was running away from flat-faces by the Big River.

  Toklo and Kallik exchanged uneasy glances. ‘We’re on Smoke Mountain,’ Kallik said. ‘We couldn’t stay by the river. We have to go this way instead.’

  Lusa shivered, which made her wound flare with pain. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a small whimper. All three of her friends looked concerned.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Lusa squeaked, trying to be brave. ‘I’m OK.’ She’d never felt anything as bad as this pain in her whole life. She could barely breathe without wanting to shriek with agony. She couldn’t imagine walking ever again.

  ‘We’ll rest here until you’re better,’ Toklo said gruffly. He pawed at his nose, avoiding her eyes. ‘Glad you’re OK. Come on, Kallik; let’s go hunting.’ He shuffled to the front of the cave and ducked out into the rain.

  ‘Toklo thought you were going to die,’ Kallik whispered. ‘He carried you all the way up here from the river.’

  ‘He did?’ Lusa said. Ujurak nodded.

  ‘Kallik!’ Toklo called.

  ‘We’ll be back soon,’ Kallik promised. ‘With food! I hope!’ She turned and bounded out of the cave to join Toklo.

  ‘Rest now,’ Ujurak said. ‘Save your strength.’

  ‘So that I’ll be strong enough to save the wild?’ Lusa asked, half joking, but when Ujurak simply nodded before padding away, she felt too weak to ask again. Lusa’s vision grew blurry. What exactly was she supposed to save the wild from, anyway? Her head started to swim, and she let her eyelids droop and her muzzle rest on her paws. Her sleep was fitful and broken, and she woke in the half dark of the cave several times, confused and upset, her head filled with fading dream images – rivers with no fish, starving bears, burned forests and fallen trees, and water that made animals sick. Save the wild, she thought. She couldn’t even run away from flat-faces without getting hurt. What was a little bear cub like her supposed to do?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  Toklo

  The next morning, Toklo was lying nearby, watching Lusa, when she opened her eyes and looked at him.

  ‘Stop scowling at me, you old grumpus,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not scowling!’ he huffed.

  ‘Oh, my mistake,’ Lusa teased. ‘That’s just your regular face.’

  ‘It is,’ he grumbled. ‘I was just making sure you didn’t die in your sleep or anything.’

  ‘Nope,’ Lusa said. She pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing. ‘Too bad for you guys. Looks like you saved my life.’

  Toklo scraped his claws along the rocks. ‘That’s not bad,’ he muttered. ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ Lusa said. ‘I’m glad you don’t mind that I’m alive.’ He looked at her, confused, and she opened her jaws wide in amusement. ‘I’m only teasing, Toklo!’ She dipped her head in his direction. ‘I’m just . . . I mean, I’m grateful that you all didn’t go on without me. I know it must be hard, waiting here.’

  ‘We wouldn’t leave you,’ Toklo said.

  When Kallik came back from hunting with a squirrel, Lusa shared it with Toklo. And that night she wriggled closer until their pelts were touching before she fell asleep.

  Toklo felt his fur settling for the first time in almost a moon. He let his relief overpower his worries, and slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

  The rain tapered off into a slow drizzle as Toklo and Kallik climbed away from the cave, following the stream up into the mountains. Toklo hoped it would lead to more bushes or even trees – anywhere prey might live. He hadn’t scented any below, but perhaps the flat-faces had scared it away.

  His pelt was still prickling with worry for Lusa. Their first sleep in the cave he had tossed and turned, his dreams a muddle of Lusa and Tobi dying, their spirits sweeping away downriver, gone forever. He hadn’t thought she would make it, and by morning he’d already started building a thick shell around himself of not caring, trying to prepare himself for losing her. But now she was back, and he realised that he did care after all.

  Kallik was silent as they walked, their paws squelching over the brittle, soaked grass. They avoided talking about the grey wisps of smoke rising from the rocks, and when they found a smaller stream leading away from the main one, Toklo inhaled deeply, searching for scents of prey. Though the smell of smoke lay over everything, he thought he picked up a faint hint of wet fur on the breeze.

  ‘Let’s follow this,’ he said, nodding at the smaller stream. It led them across a sharp, pebbly plain and then disappeared between two high cliffs.

  ‘All right,’ Kallik said. She shivered as they stepped over the flat river stones. ‘Toklo, do you think we’ll see the giant no-claw?’

  Toklo snorted. ‘A flat-face as tall as seven trees?’ he said.

  ‘But Qopuk was right about the smoke,’ Kallik said, glancing up at the hazy mountain peak. ‘Remember? He said it was from the fire the no-claw builds for the dead bears, and that it means the giant no-claw is out hunting. What if Qopuk was right? What if these mountains are evil?’

  Toklo looked up at the top of the cliffs, which seemed to be scraping the sky high above them. The rain had stopped, but still the dark grey clouds huddled overhead, hiding the sun.

  ‘I’m not going to be afraid of stories,’ he growled. ‘We’ll face the dangers here like all the others we’ve run into.’

  His nose twitched. He could smell burning, but there was no fire to be seen in any direction. He peered into the mist, watching for flickers of flame. His eyes stung, and he realised that the smoke was getting thicker as they slipped into a canyon between the cliffs.

  A few pawsteps into the gully, Kallik started coughing and pawed at her eyes, leaving streaks of black down her face. Toklo looked down and realised that the soil underpaw here was black and gritty.

  ‘Ow!’ Kallik yelped, blinking and shaking her head. ‘My eyes hurt.’

  ‘Here, wash your paws,’ Toklo suggested, nudging her into the stream. Even in the clear water he could see flecks of black ash dancing along in the current. Kallik held her paw underwater until it was washed clean, and then dabbed at her face again.

  ‘Where is the smoke coming from?’ she asked, still coughing.

  Toklo peered into the thick grey fog ahead of them. His eyes burned and he squinted, trying to shut out the smoke. He could barely see the dark mass of the cliff walls on either side of them.

  Something was glowing near the base of the cliff wall to his right. He inched towards it, lowering his head to peer at the rocks. They felt strangely warm under his paws.

  ‘What is it?’ Kallik said in a frightened voice. ‘Toklo? Don’t go too far.’

  There was a cr
ack in the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Toklo peered down and saw black lumps of rock inside the mountain. Some of them were glowing orange.

  The mountain was on fire! But it was burning from the inside. Toklo backed away. There were no flames. It puzzled and unsettled him; he didn’t know whether they needed to run away or not.

  ‘We should go back,’ Kallik said. ‘I don’t like this. What if the giant no-claw is out there hunting us?’

  ‘We need to find food,’ Toklo insisted. ‘For Lusa.’

  Suddenly something darted across his path. It was small and brown, and it wasn’t moving terribly fast. Beaver!

  ‘Kallik!’ he called, his voice a harsh croak from the black mist.

  The white bear splashed out of the stream and pressed up close beside him. He pointed with his snout in the direction the prey had gone, hoping she’d understand. His throat hurt too much to speak again. She nodded and they followed after it, crouching low to the ground.

  Toklo’s head ached, and his paws felt as though they weren’t attached to his body any more. He had a strong feeling that the cliffs on either side were creeping in closer, like they were about to smash him and Kallik flat between them. No, that couldn’t be right. He shook his head, but now it seemed like the cliff walls were leaning away, like they didn’t want to get too close to the bears. The smoke thinned, swirling around their paws like ground mist, and then thickened into a grey-yellow fog. He tried to veer to the left to feel the stream below his paws, but it seemed to have vanished.

  He saw the flash of brown again, and this time he caught a glimpse of a flat tail. He sped up, his paws padding quickly over the ash-covered rocks. His heart plunged as he saw the cliff walls closing in ahead of him. We’ll be crushed! In a panic, Toklo turned to run and hurtled into Kallik.

  ‘Toklo!’ she cried, steadying him. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  Toklo blinked. ‘Nothing.’ The smoke was clearing. The walls narrowed to a gap in front of them, but they weren’t moving. It was a trick of the smoke.

  The beaver’s tail flashed on the other side of the gap, and Toklo hurried after it, bounding through the pass between the cliffs. The beaver was heading for a grove of pine trees up the slope from the stream, and Toklo followed.

  He scrambled up the slope and dived into the trees. He could hear Kallik’s paws thudding behind him. Thin pine needles slipped and scattered under his feet.

  The beaver ducked behind a tree, and Toklo leaped after it. But when his paws hit the dirt, there was no sign of the prey. His nose and chest seemed to be so full of smoke, he couldn’t smell anything else.

  ‘This way!’ Kallik called from a few bearlengths away. But that couldn’t be right – surely the beaver had gone in the other direction? The white bear cub was already disappearing through the leaves. Toklo bounded after her, wondering if his senses were deceiving him.

  They ran, ducking and weaving through the trees, not trying to be quiet any more.

  Then Toklo saw a flash of brown off to one side. ‘Over there!’ he yelled.

  ‘No, it’s over there!’ Kallik insisted, charging straight through a bush in the opposite direction.

  Frustrated, Toklo turned away from her and ran after the prey he was sure he had seen. Just a few more pawsteps . . . it would be right there in front of him . . .

  He crashed into a tree with a bone-jarring thud. Shaking his head, he jumped back and snarled at it. It was as if the tree had leaped out of the mist into his path. Was he going crazy?

  ‘Toklo!’ he heard Kallik shouting. ‘Toklo, where are you? Come back!’

  He turned and blundered back into the maze of smoke and trees. His eyes watered and he pawed at his snout, blinking and trying to clear his mind.

  ‘Kallik!’ he called.

  ‘Toklo!’ she called back. Only now her voice was coming from a different direction. He tried to go that way and suddenly found himself snared in a tangle of brambles.

  ‘Kallik!’ he shouted frantically. ‘Kallik!’ Thorns snagged his fur and pricked his skin. It got worse the more he struggled. Ow!

  Suddenly he saw Kallik bounding out of the mist. Her eyes were glazed with fear.

  ‘Kallik!’ he barked. She skidded to a stop and looked around. ‘Over here!’

  Her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted him in the brambles. ‘Toklo!’ she yelped with relief.

  ‘I’m stuck,’ Toklo said grumpily.

  Kallik took some of the brambles in her teeth and tugged. Toklo shoved with his paws and wriggled, wishing for a moment that he were as small as Lusa. His fur felt as though it were being ripped off him, and when he finally struggled free, several brown tufts were left on the branches.

  ‘Why did you go that way?’ he barked.

  ‘I was hunting! What were you doing?’

  ‘I was hunting!’

  ‘I don’t like this place,’ Kallik said.

  ‘Wait, there it goes!’ Toklo cried, spotting the beaver again. This time they both saw it, and they sprang to their paws. Toklo was determined not to let it get away this time. He led the way as they raced through the trees, bounding between rocks and bushes. Up ahead he saw daylight shining through the tree trunks. Clear sky! The beaver ran towards the light, but Toklo was gaining. The scent was stronger now, warm flesh and fur . . .

  Toklo burst out of the trees, and the ground suddenly disappeared in front of him. He skidded to a stop with his front paws nearly over the edge. Pebbles shot out from under his feet and bounced down the cliff. Toklo stared in horror. He was standing on the edge of a precipice, looking down at jagged rocks like black teeth, many bearlengths below.

  With a massive thud, Kallik crashed into him from behind. Toklo stumbled forward, knocked off balance, and felt the world tipping around him.

  He was falling over the edge of the cliff!

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

  Kallik

  ‘No!’ Kallik cried as Toklo’s paws slipped over the precipice.

  She lunged forward and sank her teeth into the fur on Toklo’s haunches. She hauled herself backwards, dragging Toklo pawstep by pawstep over the top of the cliff. He scrabbled with his hind paws, trying to push himself away from the edge. Kallik gave a final heave, and they both tumbled to the ground on a bed of pine needles.

  Toklo rolled to his paws and shook himself. Kallik could see that one of the wounds Taqqiq had given him had opened up. Blood was rolling down his shoulder, leaving a sticky dark red trail through his fur.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t see that you had stopped – I didn’t see the cliff there –’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Toklo said tersely. He licked his shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘It’s these mountains,’ Kallik said. ‘I told you they were evil. There are spirits here trying to lead us to our deaths.’

  ‘Spirits?’ Toklo scoffed. ‘Surely they have better things to do. Why would they want to kill us?’

  ‘Maybe they’re angry about what the flat-faces are doing by the river,’ Kallik said. She remembered the horrible gash in the earth and all the fallen trees lying in the mud. ‘Maybe the black bear spirits from those trees have lost their homes and are looking for revenge.’

  ‘On us?’ Toklo said. ‘That’s dumb. These are just mountains. Come on; we should get back to Lusa.’

  Kallik couldn’t see the cliffs they’d come through, or the stream they’d been following. She could smell smoke and pine trees, but no prey. The cliff yawned on one side and the pine forest stretched off on the other. Normally Kallik could detect bear scent from skylengths away, but now when she sniffed the air, she just became more confused.

  ‘I think we’re lost,’ she said softly.

  ‘We’re not lost,’ Toklo snapped. ‘Brown bears are never lost.’ But he looked uneasy too. His head whipped around at every small sound.

  Kallik closed her eyes. ‘Ice spirits, please guide us,’ she whispered. ‘Please take us safely back to Lusa and Ujurak. Please, spirits of t
he ice, protect us from these mountains.’

  ‘What ice?’ Toklo muttered.

  Kallik ignored him and kept whispering to the spirits. It was the only thing she could think of to do. With an irritated growl, Toklo shoved his way in front of her and padded off through the trees.

  Kallik climbed to her paws and followed him. She didn’t want to lose sight of him again.

  They had gone only a few pawsteps when it started to rain, a drenching downpour that soaked Toklo and Kallik in moments.

  ‘Perfect,’ Toklo grumbled. He walked faster, his paws sloshing and splashing in the wet mud that quickly formed underpaw. Kallik could feel the mud sticking to her white fur.

  She remembered what Lusa had said about reading signs. Perhaps if there were bad spirits in these mountains, there might be good spirits too. She stopped and looked around. The trees were thinner here, and she could see bare rocks off to the right. The rain made everything look blurred and slick. Ice spirits? Are you there?

  Her eyes opened wide and she gasped. ‘Toklo!’

  The brown bear came galloping back, skidding on the wet pine needles. ‘What? What is it?’

  ‘I think we should go that way,’ Kallik said, pointing to the rocks.

  Toklo stared at the slick grey stones. ‘Why?’

  ‘Look here, at this tree,’ Kallik said, nudging it with her snout. ‘Do you see it?’

  ‘See what?’ Toklo growled.

  ‘The sign!’

  Toklo huffed. ‘You’re getting as bad as Lusa, seeing signs in everything!’

  Kallik shook her head impatiently. ‘Look at these four branches. They’re all new little branches, and they’re all growing off the tree trunk in the same direction – pointing towards those rocks!’

  ‘What?’ Toklo spluttered. ‘That makes as much sense as trying to follow a butterfly!’

  ‘No, it does make sense,’ Kallik insisted. ‘Don’t you see? The four branches are us – we’re cubs, so we’re like new branches, and we’re all travelling together. It’s pointing the way back so we can be together again.’