by Max Candee
At that moment, as if in response to my thoughts, the ponies panicked, broke their leads, and galloped off.
“Let them go,” Lauraleigh said, picking herself up from the dirt. “They know the way home.”
I nodded. The wolves didn’t seem interested in the horses. There were eight of them now. They circled us, with lips curled back to show gleaming fangs. Their eyes shone with unnatural intelligence.
These weren’t ordinary wolves.
Unsettled spirits, I remembered again.
Squire bobbed at my shoulder and Lauraleigh had my back. We circled the crackling fire, trying to keep all the wolves in sight. Magic was seething inside me now, wanting to lash out, but I held it back, not knowing what would happen if I used it. I looked around for any kind of weapon. I spied the thick branch that we had used to stir the fire, but when I stepped forward to grab it, one of the wolves snapped at my hand. I jerked it back.
“They’re keeping us here,” said Lauraleigh. “Like prisoners.”
She was right. The wolves continued to circle us, but as long as we didn’t try to escape, they let us be. They were waiting for someone.
A few minutes later, a pure white wolf, taller than the others by a head, stepped out of the darkness. He appeared so suddenly, it was like a visit from an angel — if it weren’t for his raging red eyes and snarling muzzle bristling with finger-length fangs. Maybe a really angry angel, I thought.
The other wolves stopped in their tracks and lowered their heads.
The white wolf leaned back on his haunches and rose up on two legs with a growl of pain. His body trembled, and then — I couldn’t believe my eyes — his shape started to change. His teeth snapped, first heavily, then lightly, while his face shortened and became rounder. As his limbs straightened themselves, the skin on the back of one of his hands split open, and a few drops of hot blood fell on my face. Fur wafted off him like mist in the morning sun, and a man stood before us.
His hair was long and white, and his eyes were red with hate. His face was creased with deep lines. He wore dirty white furs and leathers tied around legs as thick as tree trunks.
I gasped. “You’re the White Horseman!”
He narrowed his eyes and pinched his bloodless lips together. Another growl, low and threatening, escaped his throat.
“My brother said not to underestimate you.” His voice was surprisingly light. “He said you wield powerful magics.”
“I do!” I jutted my chin forward and tried to stand as tall as I could. Maybe I can bluff our way out of this, I thought, as unlikely as it seems.
“You look like nothing more than a scared, scrawny girl.” He curled a lip back in a wolfish grin. “Your friend is just about to faint too.”
I glanced to my side. Lauraleigh was frozen, her eyes staring. Nothing of her moved, just the pulse at her throat, which was beating much, much faster than it should have been.
I’d never seen her so discomposed; that frightened me almost more than the wolves.
“What do you want with us?” I said.
“There’s no ‘us,’ just you,” said the Horseman. “Your grandmother wants you. The other girl is not invited. I’ll leave her here for my pups. They had a long run last night to track you down, and I expect they’re hungry.”
Lauraleigh pressed closer to my side. No way would I leave her to the wolves. I didn’t want to meet my grandmother anyway. Not now. Not knowing who she was. And not with her sending wolves after me.
“You can tell old Iron Teeth that I respectfully decline the invitation,” I said.
The Horseman shot out a hand to grab my throat. I ducked and rolled to the side. Just as the Horseman’s fingers grazed the top of my head, I dropped to the ground and kicked at his knee. He growled and stumbled. Lauraleigh screamed, finally breaking from her trance, and turned to run, but the wolves kept us inside their ring with snapping teeth and growls.
Anger burned inside me. I felt power boiling in my gut again. Fear did that; I was never stronger than when I was faced with a horrifying death. I could send a bolt of pure fire into the Horseman and stop his heart. I knew I could. The power was building up fast inside me, begging for release. It was almost impossible to keep holding that energy inside me.
But releasing it to hurt the wolves or the Horseman would lead to darkness entering my soul again. I didn’t want to hurt anyone at that price, not even one of my grandmother’s henchmen, not even his wolves.
Instead, I summoned the hot energy from my stomach and drew it up into my fingers. Then, with a cry of relief, I let it go. The magic surged from me, but at the last minute, I turned and blasted the pile of extra kindling beside our fire pit. Blue and red flames shot into the air. Instant bonfire, scorching hot!
The wolves leaped back, growling. The Horseman jerked away, his furs smoldering, his red eyes open wide in shock, maybe even in fear.
I used his brief moment of distraction to search for an escape. I needed a bucket or some kind of vessel to fly in. Something big enough to carry both Lauraleigh and me. The wolves had destroyed our tent. Our sleeping bags and clothes were scattered across the dirt. Could a sleeping bag be a vessel?
While the Horseman swatted at his burning clothes, I leaped toward a sleeping bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lauraleigh swing a burning stick at a wolf. The wolf growled and snapped its teeth at her, but it stayed out of her reach. Squire was more effective. He zipped around the camp, punching wolves in their ribs, hitting them on their heads, making them jump, snort and growl.
I grabbed the sleeping bag and tried to pull it toward me. It didn’t move. The Horseman had reverted to his wolf shape and was standing on the other end of the bag. He didn’t look amused. The fur around his neck was singed and sooty. His hunched shoulders made him look even bigger. He was pulling his lips back, and a rumbling growl escaped his throat.
“Nice doggie,” I said, leaning toward the bag.
He growled with rage and sprang forward, jutting his huge black nose in my face and baring his enormous teeth. His foul breath made me gag.
I was out of options… I had to blast him with magic. I had to save Lauraleigh. The magic began to coil in my stomach again, building up for release. The shadows that were already living in my heart danced with glee. Every bit of my magic that hurt someone else made them stronger. I took a deep breath…
And the white wolf was flung to the ground, far from me.
But … but I hadn’t touched him!
A roar shook the trees. I looked up, and up some more to the brown, furry face of rage towering above me. “Mama Bear!” I yelled. Mama Bear had come to my rescue!
The bear pounced on the white wolf. She was even more massive than I remembered, and the sheer weight of her body flattened him. Other bears were lumbering into the camp, swinging their heads back and forth like giant pendulums. The wolves fought back for a full minute. Chunks of fur and bloodied flesh flew all around us, and the air filled with wild screams of fury and pain. Lauraleigh and I stood huddled together in the middle of the animals, all of them clawing and biting, clearly trying to kill.
Three wolves cornered a smaller bear near a small grove. One of them leaped and locked its jaws on the bear’s paw. A yelp of triumph — or gloating — rose over the wolves, echoed by a cry of hurt from the bear. Unable to hold back, I released a massive bolt of energy at the attacking animal. It screamed and let go.
The wolves cowered. They yipped and ran off into the trees as if on command. Only the White Horseman remained, flattened on the ground under Mama Bear’s bulk. Deep, sticky darkness filled my heart. After a second or two, most of it seeped away into the air — but some remained.
Five giant brown bears surrounded us. They were moving about, rolling on the earth, jumping, even playfully batting at each other with their paws. Apparently, they were taking their time cooling off after the battle.
When they’d calmed down a little, I ran into Mama Bear’s embrace. She folded me in her massive arms, and
I felt safe for the first time since I’d opened Uncle Misha’s letter. Mama Bear smelled of cold caves and autumn leaves, just as I remembered. She smelled of my childhood, of the time when the world was a beautiful, friendly place.
“I missed you,” I murmured into her thick pelt, which I noticed was speckled with gray.
An answer rumbled through her chest: She was glad to see me too.
“Uh, Anna?” Lauraleigh whispered somewhere behind me. “Are these friends of yours?”
“Yes!” I said. “Lauraleigh, meet Mama Bear, and I guess these are her latest cubs.”
“You mean … you really were raised by bears?” Lauraleigh’s face was white. In the dusk, she looked like a ghost. “I thought that was just some silly rumor the other kids made up about you.”
I found the strength to smile, although my chest and stomach were still heaving with all the excitement of the battle. And with the fear of the new darkness that had entered my heart.
“Nope. It’s true,” I said, stepping away from Mama Bear’s embrace. “She found me in the wild and kept me until Uncle Misha came. I’d go visit her and the new cubs whenever I finished my chores.” For six years, I had lived and played with the bears. They were the only friends I’d had while growing up on the mountain.
Lauraleigh continued to stare. Then she collected herself and bowed her head a little to Mama Bear. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
Mama Bear rumbled a greeting in return.
“She’s pleased to meet you too,” I said with a little laugh. I’d never been more amazed at Lauraleigh’s ability to take things in stride. I could see that she was already getting used to the idea, weird though it was — and she was able to keep her manners in the middle of it all. Sister Constance would have been so proud.
Dawn was starting to break. Mama Bear stood and poked the White Horseman with her snout. He was slowly returning to his human form, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Fur was falling off his face in bloody white patches and teeth were retracting and bleeding in his mouth. His arm was bent at a painful angle. He was breathing in short, rough gasps, but he seemed to be out cold. Mama Bear sneezed as if his smell offended her.
“What should we do with him?” Lauraleigh asked.
“Looks like he’ll survive. So let’s leave him,” I said firmly. “If the other Horsemen are nearby… Well, we need to find Uncle Misha as soon as possible.”
Lauraleigh sighed. I felt a wave of fear coming from her, fear that she was doing her best to conceal. “Without the horses, it’ll be a long hike up the mountain,” she said.
Mama Bear must have noticed Lauraleigh’s fear, too; she grumbled encouragement and gave Lauraleigh a reassuring lick across her face. For a split second, I was afraid my friend would react with disgust at this wet sign of support, but she smiled and patted Mama Bear on her giant paw. Oh, Lauraleigh. I was so proud of her at that moment, as if I were her elder.
“We might not have horsepower.” I grinned. “But we’ve got bear-power.”
Lauraleigh’s mouth dropped open. Honestly, you would have thought that by now, she’d be expecting the unexpected around me.
* * *
I let Lauraleigh ride on Mama Bear’s sturdy shoulders. She was bigger than I and, even though the cubs were all yearlings, they still didn’t have Mama Bear’s massive strength. I rode on the shoulders of a young cub. Bears only stay with their mothers for two years, so he was a stranger to me. Even so, it only took one growl from Mama Bear for him to lower his shoulder to the ground so I could hop on his back.
Bears don’t have smooth trotting gaits like horses. They amble from side to side. I’d ridden bears all my young life and the swaying motion didn’t bother me, but I could see Lauraleigh hanging on to Mama Bear’s ruff for dear life.
“It’s no wonder I can’t handle a horse,” I said, my voice resonant with excitement. “This is the way to travel! Isn’t it amazing?”
Lauraleigh lifted her head and smiled weakly. “I feel a bit seasick, to be honest.”
I laughed. I felt incredible! The summer sun dappled the ground as it shone through the leaves. Trees thinned as we climbed, and the mountain peak became visible, a shining beacon calling me home. I’d never felt less like an orphan in my life. I was back with the family I’d had as a child, with Mama Bear and soon with Uncle Misha. I was with Lauraleigh, who was practically a sister by now. And I was finally going to learn about my other family, the family I’d waited thirteen years to meet. I didn’t know if that family would welcome me or if I’d even want to know them. So far, I wasn’t impressed with Granny Iron Teeth. But I was ready to find out more.
I could feel the bear’s strength under me as we moved through the forest, and it gave me courage.
The bears’ ambling gait ate up the kilometers. Twice I caught glimpses of ghostly apparitions running along beside us. Wolves? Ghosts? Forest spirits, akin to the laughing Mountain Mistress?
But the bears paid them no mind, so I ignored them, too. At noon, we stopped by a small stream to refill our water bottles. We’d left most of our stock at the camp, and each of us carried only one small backpack. Mine held my precious gifts from my mother, including Squire, who had returned to stone after his exhausting morning of terrorizing wolves. We had no food left, though. If we didn’t find Uncle Misha before dark, we’d have a long, hungry night ahead of us.
By mid-afternoon, the bears had begun to tire. The slope steepened. Lauraleigh and I dismounted and walked beside them. My hand was buried in Mama Bear’s thick fur, and she tugged me up the steeper parts of the trail. My heart beat faster as I recognized bits of the landscape: the curve of a river that I had often fished in, a flat rock face with an eagle’s nest perched on top, a grove of cedars where the bear cubs and I had played hide-and-seek.
I was puffing hard by the time we reached a ridge and the trail finally evened out. Lauraleigh looked about ready to collapse. Sweat was streaming off both of us like water from standing under the Jet d’Eau fountain near the orphanage in Geneva.
As we caught our breath, the bears ambled up to a crack in the mountainside that led into a deep cavern system. Mama Bear snuffled at me with her big wet nose. We weren’t going inside the caves with the bears. This was where we’d say goodbye.
“Thank you for saving us,” I said, curling my arms around her massive neck. “I have to go see Uncle Misha now, but I’ll be back to see you soon.”
She pushed me with her grizzled snout, nudging me away from the cave. She was getting old, Mama Bear was. I knew that if I wanted to see my friend again, I’d better not stay away for another six years.
“Thank you for everything,” said Lauraleigh. Mama Bear dipped her head in acknowledgment.
One by one, the bears disappeared into the cave. We were alone again.
“Now what?” Lauraleigh asked.
“Now we go home,” I said. “This way.”
We climbed around the boulders that hid the opening to the caves, and we stood at the head of a beautiful valley. Below us, the ground rose and fell in gentle green hills to the base of a small lake with the purest blue water. The mountain rose up again on the other side of the lake, where a single log cabin was nestled among the trees. The afternoon had turned to evening while we’d hiked, and a single candle burned in the cabin’s window.
It was the most beautiful site I’d ever seen, and I was suddenly filled with such warmth I thought I might burn up inside.
I was home.
“How do we get there?” asked Lauraleigh.
There was no way around the lake. Thick bushes crowded the shore on each side with no visible path through. On our side of the water, a weathered dock jutted from a small rock beach.
I looked up at the sky. The new moon floated there like a trusty companion that was always with me. We had made it in time.
“Like this,” I said, and ran for the dock.
Lauraleigh stumbled along behind me. I knew she was tired, but now I was too excited to feel my
own fatigue. I ran to the end of the dock, where a cold torch rested in an iron holder. Usually, there were matches nearby, hidden in a weatherproof pack, but I didn’t waste time looking for them. My magic was ready. I zapped the torch and it flared to life. I waved it from side to side like a flag; then I placed it back in the holder.
And I waited.
The sun sank below the tree line. A door opened across the lake. An old man emerged from the cabin and walked down a dock, twin to the one we were standing on. He hopped into a small boat and started to row toward us.
Schloop, schloop, schloop. I could hear his oars splashing in the water long before he was close enough to be seen clearly. He rowed with his back to us. His shaggy hair was more gray than black. Like Mama Bear, the years had aged him. The first stars had peeked from the sky when he finally docked the boat and jumped out.
“Malyshka!” he said. “You came.”
Uncle Misha gripped me in a hug that rivaled Mama Bear’s, and I knew I was well and truly home.
Chapter 5
Dear Diary,
There once was a little girl raised by bears, so the story goes. Mama Bear found her alone in the forest and brought her back to the cave with her own cubs. The nights are cold in the mountains even in June, but the baby snuggled next to her furry brothers and sisters for warmth. Until a kind trapper, following a plea from a spirit, found her and took her home to his little cabin on the lake, where he kept her safe for six years.
The only identification on the baby was a locket with instructions to take her to an orphanage in Geneva. Every summer he’d tell himself that the girl needed to go to Geneva, but when the fall came, he couldn’t bear the thought of a long, lonely winter without her.
“Next summer,” he’d say. “I’ll take her next summer.”
And so it continued for six years until the little girl was big enough to go to school. Then the trapper knew he could no longer keep her tucked away in the Sayan Mountains, and they undertook the long journey to Geneva.
