Seekers #6: Spirits in the Stars (6 page)

Chapter Six

Toklo

Toklo sat in the shelter of
a thornbush, watching Lusa and Kallik as they fussed over the white bear cub. Two days had passed since Kallik had rescued him. The day before, a blizzard had forced them to retreat from the coast and take shelter beyond the ridge of low hills. Ujurak had caught a white hare, and now Kallik was chewing up the softest part of the meat for the baby to swallow.

Toklo’s hackles rose as he gazed at the scrawny little creature. “This is a waste of prey,” he muttered to Ujurak, who was sitting beside him, finishing off his share of the catch. “And the cub doesn’t even belong to us.”

Ujurak said nothing, just touched his nose to Toklo’s shoulder.

“This cub isn’t part of our destiny, is he?” Toklo hissed.

Ujurak looked uncertain. “We can’t leave him behind” was all he said.

“No, we can’t,” Toklo agreed reluctantly. “Kallik wouldn’t let us.”
But the cub is a weakness,
he added to himself.
And we can’t afford weakness. It’s already taking all we have to survive.

“Hey, Toklo!” Lusa called, glancing across at him with bright eyes and beckoning with one paw. “Kissimi has opened his eyes. Come and see!”

“No, thanks,” Toklo growled, rising to his paws.
So his eyes are open. Big deal.
“I’m going to look for some more food.”

Without waiting for a response, he left the thorn thicket where they had spent the night and headed along the valley. His senses were alert for the scent or sight of hare. In the distance he spotted a cloud of snow thrown up into the air, and wondered for a moment what could be causing it.

Musk ox,
he realized, picturing the way that the sharp hooves churned up the ground. His belly rumbled, and he was tempted to head in that direction.

But I’d never catch one on my own,
he thought regretfully.

Toklo was still searching for hare without any success when he heard a growl from somewhere ahead. Looking up, he spotted a full-grown male white bear standing in his path. His stance was threatening, and Toklo didn’t like the unfriendly gleam in his eyes.

“So it’s true,” the white bear said. “There are brown bears here.”

Toklo braced himself for an attack, but for the moment the white bear didn’t move.

“My brother Yakone saw you arrive,” the white bear went on. “Where are the others?”

“Safe from you,” Toklo retorted, his pelt bristling in defiance.

“That’s what you think,” the white bear sneered. “You are not welcome here. Brown bears and black bears don’t belong on this island.”

“There are no scent marks,” Toklo responded. “Nothing to say that this is your territory and yours alone. We have every right to be here.”

“You have
no
right,” the white bear snarled. “To start with, your fur is the wrong color.”

The white bear’s eyes glittered with hostility, and he took a pace toward Toklo, baring his teeth. Toklo stood his ground, trying to hide how daunted he was by the bear’s sheer size.

He’s big, even for a white bear. But if I can dodge under his paws, I can get in a few blows to his belly.

Toklo rose to his hindpaws and parted his jaws to roar a challenge. But at the same moment he heard a new voice, shouting from the ridge behind his attacker.

“Unalaq!”

The white bear looked over his shoulder as an ancient white she-bear appeared on the crest of the ridge, flanked by more white bears. She looked older than any bear Toklo had ever seen before, like a leafless tree with a pelt hanging from its branches. But as she drew closer, Toklo saw that her eyes were black and bright. The other bears followed her down the slope; clearly they regarded her with the greatest respect.

The old bear padded down the hillside until she stood in front of Toklo, gesturing with one paw for the hostile white bear to join the others.

“But you—” he began to protest.

The old she-bear repeated the gesture more forcefully. “I don’t feel threatened, with all of you to come to my rescue. Besides,” she added gruffly, “this young bear doesn’t look as if he would attack a feeble old she-bear.”

There was a twinkle in her eyes that suggested she didn’t regard herself as feeble at all. Toklo shook his head, unsettled by her; he had no idea what to expect.

“What is your name?” she asked him.

“Toklo,” he replied.

“And they call me Aga. It means ‘mother’ in our speech. Star Island has been my home for many circles of the sun.”

“This is Star Island?” Toklo asked.

Aga nodded. “They tell me you have companions,” she went on. “May I meet them?”

Toklo wasn’t sure. This old bear seemed friendly enough, but what if she was trying to trick him? “What for?” he asked, mustering all his courage.

The she-bear dipped her head slightly. “This is our place,” she reminded him gently. “And you are strangers. We have a right to know who you are, and what led your pawsteps to Star Island.”

Toklo could understand that, but he was still reluctant, especially after the hostile reception he had received from the young male.

“How do I know you won’t hurt my friends?” he asked. “I’m supposed to be looking after them. I won’t lead enemies to them.”

Aga blinked, understanding in her eyes. “Your courage does you credit,” she told Toklo. “But you and your friends will come to no harm from me or these others. Unalaq there makes a lot of noise, but he isn’t as dangerous as he looks.”

“All right,” Toklo agreed.
I don’t have much choice; I have to trust her.
“But my friends are quite a long way off,” he added, looking at Aga’s frail figure.

“I’m stronger than I look,” Aga assured him, again with that unsettling twinkle in her eyes. “Let us go.”

As Toklo turned to lead the way, a young she-bear stepped out of the group and padded beside Aga. She gave Toklo a wary glance, as if she was half expecting him to attack.

“This is Illa.” Aga introduced her.

Toklo gave the young white bear a curt nod, surprised at how thin she looked. All the bears seemed underfed, he realized.
But why should they? Between the musk ox and seal, this island is full of food.

“Illa, you will come with me,” Aga continued. “The rest of you, stay here.” She gave Unalaq a hard stare, as he seemed about to protest again. “I will return soon.”

As he headed back up the valley with Aga and Illa, Toklo was still aware of the gaze of the other white bears boring into his back.
I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Unalaq. That bear is trouble.

“Where do you come from?” Aga asked him, distracting him from worrying about the hostile bear. “Not from somewhere with ice and snow,” she added, a humorous gleam in her eyes. “That brown pelt of yours stands out sharper than a walrus!”

“I’m from a place with forests and mountains,” Toklo began.

“Forests?” Aga asked curiously.

Of course—she’s never seen a forest!
Toklo realized. “A forest is a place with a lot of trees. And trees are like bushes, with leaves and branches, only bigger. Where I come from, you can walk among the trees for days and days and never come to the end.”

Aga blinked in wonder. “Truly the world is wide,” she murmured. “And why have you come here?” she went on. “Why did you leave your . . . forests?”

Toklo wasn’t sure how to reply.
If I tell her about Ujurak and his quest, she’ll think my brain is full of cloudfluff!

Before he could decide what to say, he was distracted by a flicker of movement. An Arctic hare had sprung up from a dip in the ground and was racing up the valley a few bearlengths ahead.

Without thinking, Toklo took off after it, his powerful paws scattering the snow as he ran. Beside him he was aware of Illa, running with longer strides, much more experienced in the snowy landscape.

Veering to one side, she careened into Toklo, knocking him off balance and nearly sending him rolling in the snow.

“Hey!” he protested.

“This is our prey,” the young she-bear growled.

We’ll see about that.
Determined not to be put off, Toklo pounded after Illa, catching up with her so that the two bears were racing neck and neck for the hare. Suddenly the hare swerved toward Toklo; with a spurt of energy, he reached out for it and brought it down with a deft blow to its head.

“That’s mine!” Illa said indignantly, coming to face Toklo, her eyes blazing with frustration. “I chased it into your paws. Hand it over!”

“No. It was a fair catch,” Toklo argued.

“But you don’t understand.” Illa’s voice grew quieter, filled with desperation. “We need that hare far more than you do.”

Why?
Toklo wondered.
What are these bears not telling me?

“I need it, too,” he told the young she-bear. “My friends rely on me to hunt for them.”

Illa opened her jaws to go on arguing, but at that moment Aga padded up.

“Let Shesh have the hare,” she ordered.

“Shesh? That’s not my name,” Toklo said, surprised.

“But it is what you are,” Aga explained, dipping her head to him. “‘Shesh’ is the word for a brown bear.”

“You’re really giving this hare to him?” Illa broke in, sounding surprised.

Aga nodded. “There’s no reason to make these visitors feel unwelcome.”

Toklo was struck by how calm she was, and how she seemed to know all about him and his friends.
It’s almost as if she was expecting us,
he thought, then pushed the thought away.
Bee-brain! You’re starting to sound like Ujurak!

Carrying the hare, Toklo led the way along the valley until they reached the thornbushes where he had left his friends. Lusa was on watch, and she let out a squeak of alarm when she spotted the white bears.

Toklo heard Aga whisper, “So you have come at last.” He stared at her.
What does she mean?

“It’s all right, Tungulria, black one,” Aga said aloud.

Lusa gave the white bears a panicky look, then ducked out of sight into the makeshift den among the thorns. Toklo heard some shuffling and tensely whispered conversation before she reappeared with Ujurak and Kallik. He looked for Kissimi; the cub was nowhere to be seen, and Kallik was looking particularly tense and determined.

“These are my friends,” Toklo said, dropping the hare at his paws. “This is Lusa, the brown bear is Ujurak, and the white bear is Kallik.”

As Toklo introduced them, Aga and Illa gave their visitors a formal nod, which Lusa and the others returned awkwardly. Ujurak seemed most comfortable with the white bears, giving them a friendly and curious stare.

“How many white bears are there here on the island?” he asked.

“Many,” Aga replied.

“And have you lived here all the time?”

Aga didn’t seem upset by the young brown bear’s questioning. “We have lived here on Star Island for as long as my mother’s mother could remember.”

“Star Island!” Ujurak’s eyes brightened; Toklo gave him a warning look. He didn’t want his friend giving away too much about their quest.

“And where have you come from?” Aga turned her attention to Kallik, who was shifting from paw to paw and looking as if she would rather be anywhere but there.

“From . . . from the Melting Sea,” Kallik stammered.

“So it really exists!” Aga sounded impressed. “I have heard rumors of it before, from bears who traveled very, very far. You have clearly come on a long journey.” She paused, then added, “Do you have the Iqniq where you come from?”

“What’s that?” Ujurak asked.

“Iqniq is the fire in the sky,” Aga explained. “The Iqniq is our name for the spirits of our bear ancestors.”

“Yes, we have the Iqniq,” Ujurak told her. “We believe that the spirits of our ancestors watch over us.”

Aga nodded sadly. “We believe that, too—or we did once. But now we are suffering from terrible pains in our bellies. Some bears believe that we have been cursed by the Iqniq and that they are abandoning us.” The ancient bear’s voice grew deeper and more rhythmic, almost like a chant. “The Iqniq do not walk among us as they did of old, and no bear knows why. Their fires are fading from the sky, and when they have gone altogether, the sacred link between the world of the living and the world of the spirit-bears will be broken. Then living bears will be cut off altogether from their ancestors. They will be alone. The time of the bears may soon be over.”

Aga fell silent and gazed long and hard at the bears who were listening to her. At last she fixed her gaze compellingly on Lusa. “Or maybe not,” she added softly.

Toklo couldn’t think what to say. He sensed a world of pain that the old bear suffered, and he found it hard to understand.
And why is she looking at Lusa like that?

It was Ujurak who broke the silence. “Are the white bears really dying?” he asked.

Illa nodded. “We just found the body of my sister, Sura. There was no reason for her to die! She was young and strong, and she had a cub.”