Seekers #6: Spirits in the Stars Read Free

the plants and animals? he asked himself. How much farther do we have to go?
    Together they enlarged the hollow and huddled inside it while the storm screamed overhead. Two sunrises came and went while the wind whipped over the icy plain, driving the snow along with it.
    Ujurak felt the pangs of hunger griping deeper in his belly with every day that passed, and he knew that his companions were suffering, too.
    “It wouldn’t be so bad if we couldn’t hear the walruses,” Toklo grumbled as the wind carried another gust of bellowing cries toward them. “I can smell them, too. I can’t think of anything except for sinking my teeth into one of them.”
    Ujurak muttered agreement; he was hungry enough to risk attacking one of the savage creatures for the chance of gorging on the meat.
    Kallik groaned and buried her snout deeper into Lusa’s fur. All they could do was endure, and hope to sleep away the time until they could carry on.
    At last Ujurak woke to silence. Raising his head, he realized that the wind had dropped. The sun was shining; light reflected from the undisturbed covering of snow that blanketed the ice in every direction.
    “Wake up!” Ujurak prodded Toklo, then Kallik and Lusa. “The storm is over.”
    He hauled himself out of the hollow as his companions woke up, blinking in the bright light and unfolding stiff limbs to follow Ujurak.
    Lusa scooped up snow in her paws and rubbed it over her face to wake herself up. “Come on!” she called, bounding enthusiastically away from the den. “It’s this way! Let’s—” She broke off suddenly as the snowy surface gave way and her small black shape vanished into a drift.
    “Oh, for the spirits’ sake . . .” Toklo muttered.
    He plodded over to where Lusa had disappeared, wading through the fresh, powdery snow. Ujurak watched, half amused and half anxious, as the grizzly plunged his snout into the drift and reared back with Lusa’s tail gripped between his jaws.
    “Hey, that hurts!” Lusa protested, paws flailing as she emerged with snow clotted all over her black pelt.
    Toklo hauled her to the edge of the drift and let go. “Watch where you’re putting your paws.”
    “And don’t go running off,” Ujurak added as Lusa shook snow from her pelt, scattering it around her in a wide circle. “We’re not sure exactly where we are.”
    “How are we going to find out?” Kallik asked.
    Ujurak concentrated, but he couldn’t hear or smell the walruses anymore. Just when it would be useful . . . And the spirits were still not sending him any signs.
    There’s one way, he thought, but fear stabbed his heart, colder and harder than sharp splinters of ice. But I might lose myself forever.
    As the silence dragged out, his fear was thrust aside by guilt. I can’t let my friends down, he decided. Not when there’s something I can do to help.
    “I’ll turn into a bird and fly,” he said reluctantly.
    “But you don’t like changing anymore,” Lusa objected.
    “That’s not the point,” Ujurak replied. “It’s something I can do, and maybe that makes it my duty.” And if I don’t stay in that shape for long, I should be able to remember who I really am.
    Lusa padded over to him and touched her snout to his. “Thanks, Ujurak.”
    Warmed by the way that his friend understood his hesitation, Ujurak spotted the tiny shape of a seabird in the distance and focused on it. Moments later he felt himself shrinking, and he saw his brown fur vanish to be replaced by the sleek black feathers of a cormorant. His forelegs fanned out into wings, and his hind legs grew bare and skinny. Before his hooked feet could sink into the snow, he took to the air with a mighty flap and soared upward. He let out a harsh cry of triumph as the land fell away beneath him. In spite of his fear he felt the exhilaration of powerful wings bearing him up and the cold air streaming through his feathers.
    But I’m a bear. I’m a bear, I’m a bear. I must never forget what I