The Burning Horizon (16 page)

A quick glance showed Lusa that the young female flat-face was hanging back behind the older ones, clearly still wary of her. Staying back from the mesh, Lusa carried on playing, then bounced over to her fruit bowl and began to eat, holding the fruit in her front paws like she was a ground squirrel.

The flat-faces at the Bear Bowl liked to see that—only the spirits know why!

But when she looked up with a chunk of apple in her paws, Lusa was disappointed to see that the older flat-faces had gone on to deliver the rest of the food bowls, and the young one had vanished altogether.

What's the point of being cute if no one is watching?

Leaving the rest of the fruit, Lusa slumped down beside the mesh near Taktuq. “I tried to make friends with that young one, but it didn't work,” she complained.

“It didn't work
yet
,” Taktuq corrected her.

Lusa shrugged. She watched as the young flat-face reappeared from one of the small flat-face dens that were clustered outside. She went into the fox's enclosure to take him out on the vine. Lusa's paws itched to join them as they ran up and
down and played on the grass beyond the mesh. The fox rolled over, waving his paws happily as the young flat-face rubbed his belly.

A growl from the enclosure next to her distracted Lusa, and she spotted the coyote glaring at her again, its teeth bared. Lusa curled her lip at it, frustration at her captivity spilling over into anger.

I've fought fiercer coyotes than you, you mangy carrion-eater!
she snarled inwardly.
But now I've got to be little and sweet and gentle, so consider yourself lucky!

The day seemed to drag by. After the young flat-face returned the fox to his enclosure, she disappeared again. Bored and frustrated, Lusa flopped down and tried to sleep, slipping into an uneasy doze.

Sunhigh came and went before the young flat-face came out again. This time she was with the older male. They were playing with a small, round, scarlet-colored object, throwing it to each other on the grass outside the pens.

Lusa watched curiously as the gray-furred male threw the object too high. It soared over the young female's head and landed with a thump in Lusa's enclosure, making her jump. The young flat-face let out a cry of surprise.

Lusa trotted forward and patted the object. It was like a smooth, round, lightweight stone. It weighed less than an apple, and yielded slightly when Lusa pressed it with her paw. Fascinated, she rolled it about, aware of the flat-faces watching her.
Time to try again.
Using a bit more force, she made the
thing roll away from her, then chased it.

I feel like such an idiot!
Lusa thought.
What would Toklo say if he could see me now?

But it was working. The young flat-face let out happy barks, and clapped her front paws together. In the next enclosure Taktuq tilted his head, listening. “Now what are you up to?” he asked.

Lusa paused, her breath coming in quick puffs. “I'm playing with this round thing the flat-faces threw,” she explained. “They're watching me—they think it's fun.”

“Then you're doing well,” Taktuq grunted from behind his mesh. “Who would have thought a wild bear could think up tricks like that?”

Lusa couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or sympathetic, so she ignored him, just as she ignored the coyote, still snarling and snapping on her other side.

She kept playing with the round thing, being as cute as possible, but then the young flat-face turned around and trotted away. Lusa shoved the round thing aside and clawed at the log in frustration, forgetting that the older male was still watching her.

“Careful,” Taktuq warned her. “Don't spoil it now.”

Moments later the young flat-face returned, followed by the older female. The young one had a piece of fruit in her hand, and she pushed it through the mesh to Lusa while both the older flat-faces stood watchfully nearby.

Lusa padded up to the mesh and very carefully took the
fruit from the young female's paw. While she was eating, the gray-furred male said something to the younger one, and they both walked away with the older female. The young flat-face looked back over her shoulder and waved one hairless paw at Lusa.

Lusa swallowed the last of the fruit and stretched out, feeling exhausted from so much thinking and pretending.
Is my plan working?
she fretted.
Will I escape?
She wondered where Toklo and Yakone and Kallik were, and what they were doing.
They must be looking for me, probably going out of their minds with worry. Will Ujurak tell them that I'm underneath his stars?

Even if he did, Lusa knew that she couldn't expect her friends to come into this den and let her out. If they got caught, none of them would make it to Great Bear Lake. She would have to escape and find them. At least the stars were a sign to her that she shouldn't give up, because she knew that Ujurak and Ursa hadn't abandoned her.

Drifting into sleep, Lusa dreamed that she had turned into a bird. Instead of her familiar black fur and four sturdy legs, she had glossy feathers and strong wings, which she beat, reveling in the sensation of the air currents holding her up as she soared to the top of a tall tree.

She flew higher and higher, above denning places and the BlackPaths, up into the sky, the firebeasts below growing smaller and smaller until she couldn't see them anymore. She soared over mountains, rivers, plains, and ice, searching and searching for her friends. Her eyes were so powerful that she could pick out the tiniest leaf or pebble, the least flicker of
movement as a vole slipped out from the shelter of a bush. But there were no bears in all the wide landscape below her.

“Where are you?” she called in her harsh bird voice. “Where are you?”

“Kallik, we'll walk along the crevasse
and meet you at the end!” Toklo bellowed down into the ice. He thought he could hear a faint response but couldn't make out the words. “I'm not sure if she can hear me,” he added to Yakone, who looked stunned, his eyes full of horror at the way Kallik had simply disappeared.

“We have to do something to help her,” he said.

“There's nothing we can do,” Toklo responded grimly. “If we tried to get to her, we would all be trapped. All we can do is follow the crevasse and hope we can help her out at the end.”

Yakone nodded reluctantly. Side by side the two bears padded along the edge of the crevasse toward the end that was closest. Though he was trying to stay calm for Yakone's sake, Toklo's head was reeling.
First Lusa, now Kallik! Am I going to lose every one of my friends?

“It's all my fault,” he muttered. “I shouldn't have made us come onto the glacier to begin with. If we'd headed down into the trees, we could have avoided the flat-faces more safely and kept the caribou in sight. Now we've lost Kallik, and the
caribou herd that was leading us to Lusa will soon be long gone.”

“It's
not
your fault,” Yakone insisted, overhearing him. “We were all rushing, and if my dumb paw hadn't held us up . . .”

“You can't help being injured—” Toklo began, then broke off as he spotted another wide crack zigzagging across the ice, branching from Kallik's crevasse. He ran over to it and peered down into the dark depths. “Kallik!” he roared. “Kallik!”

Yakone joined him, and both bears bellowed their friend's name until they were hoarse. But there was no reply, only the echoes of their own voices.

“We have no way of knowing if she's making any progress. Maybe she's trapped down there . . . or worse,” Yakone said, his eyes full of fear.

“Don't think that!” Toklo snapped. “Maybe she just hasn't reached this part yet.”
I have to believe that,
he told himself determinedly. “We're here, Kallik! Keep going!” he called out again, just in case their friend could hear him.

This crack that crossed Kallik's crevasse was wider than the one they had jumped before. They decided Toklo would make the leap first, so he would be there to help Yakone on the other side. Toklo took a long run up to it and drew on all his strength as he pushed off into a leap. He landed safely, wincing as his paws thumped onto the rough surface. Then he turned to help Yakone.

The white male was already launching himself into the air. He came down on the very edge of the crack, letting out a yelp of pain as his wounded paw hit the ice. His hindpaws were
perilously close to thin air, and Toklo grabbed his shoulder fur to haul him clear.

“Thanks!” Yakone panted.

“Do you need to rest?” Toklo asked, glancing at Yakone's injured paw, which was oozing blood again.

“I'm not going to rest for a single moment until we find Kallik!” Yakone growled.

Toklo nodded. “You're right. Let's keep going.”

His belly was bawling with hunger, and he knew that Yakone must be just as famished. His mouth was dry, too, and both bears paused briefly to lick moisture from the ice. It hardly helped.

We can't waste time hunting
, Toklo thought.
Besides, there's no prey out here, only a bird swooping overhead now and then.

More and more rifts in the ice crossed their path, and Toklo was afraid that they would lose Kallik's crevasse in the confusing crisscrossing gaps, or when they had to leave the edge of it to skirt around boulders or tall ice ridges. His fear and sense of urgency was growing with every pawstep.
We have to believe she'll make it to the end,
he thought, struggling with a horrible picture in his mind of Kallik stuck and helpless.
If we're not there when she gets out, she might think we've left her behind.

“Look!” Yakone pointed ahead with his muzzle.

Toklo's brief hope that the white bear had spotted Kallik died as he saw a herd of flat-faces clambering up the glacier, tied together with vines like the first group they had seen, and prodding at the ice with sharp sticks. Their bright-red pelts were like spots of blood on the surface of the glacier.

“They're up here, too? That's all we need!” he groaned.

“We have to hide,” hissed Yakone.

But when Toklo looked around, he couldn't see a single place where they could take cover from the flat-faces. Between them and the looming mountain ridge, the glacier was strewn with boulders too small to duck behind, and the folds of ice weren't high enough to hide them, either.

The two bears stopped in panic as the flat-faces drew closer, calling to one another in their high, bird-like voices. Toklo could feel the ice trembling under his paws from their thumping pawsteps and the blows from their pointed sticks. All of Toklo's instincts were telling him to run before the flat-faces spotted them, but he knew that if they did, they would never find Kallik's crevasse again. Indecision and near panic froze his paws to the ground.

Then Yakone pointed downward with his snout toward a small crack in the ice. “We'll have to hide down there.”

Toklo stared in disbelief. “We'll fall . . . we'll be trapped like Kallik.”

“We won't fall.” Yakone was trying to sound confident. “It's big enough to hide us, but too narrow for us to fall down. Now go!” He gave Toklo a shove.

Every hair on Toklo's pelt was bristling with terror as he lowered himself haunches first into the crack. It felt like a mouth gaping to swallow him up. The crack was just wide enough for him to fit through, and though Yakone was right that it narrowed just below his body, he still felt as if the glacier was pulling him down into its creaking, whispering belly.
He picked up a stale, stony smell from the cold, empty air beneath him.

Yakone almost squashed Toklo as he eased down into the crack beside him. Both bears dug their claws into the ice, clinging to the lip of the crevasse as the flat-faces trekked past, chattering and puffing. Toklo held his breath and listened to the sounds of the flat-faces as they faded into the distance. Then to his horror he felt his back claws sliding and chips of ice crumbling away under his weight.

“I'm slipping!” he gasped. “I've got to get out!”

Instantly Yakone clawed his way out of the crack and grabbed Toklo's scruff in his jaws, hauling him upward. Toklo scrabbled frantically with his hindpaws and collapsed, panting, on the surface of the glacier. Exhaustion and fear made his head whirl, and he was shaking beneath his fur. Yakone looked just as bad, his fur filthy, his wounded paw bleeding again, and his eyes filled with fear.

“Great spirits, Ujurak, where are you? Can't you see what's happening?” Toklo muttered, feeling anger building inside him. “Or have you given up any hope of saving us?”

Yakone rested a paw on his shoulder. “We can't give up,” he said. “Not on Kallik, not on Lusa. And not on Ujurak.”

Toklo let out a long sigh. “You're right,” he grunted, hauling himself to his paws.

Dusk was falling as the bears set out again. The terrain grew rockier and rougher, and their pace dropped as they drew close to the edge of the glacier. Their paws slipped on the sloping surface, and boulders or folds in the ice made it
hard to follow the edge of Kallik's crevasse. They kept on calling out to her in case she was close enough to hear them, but there was never a reply.