The Girl Who Speaks Bear Read online

  I rush into the cabin, have a quick tidy-up, throw on my coat, and step back outside, unrolling my map. The sketch of the Blue Mountain pulls my gaze like it has its own gravity. That’s where I need to go. The Bear Tsarina will be there, and I’ll be able to talk to her, like I can talk to Mousetrap.

  Meeting Ivan, hearing his words, and reading the story of the Bear’s Child has convinced me there is truth in Anatoly’s tales. And if anyone knows the truth, it would be the Bear Tsarina. She raised me for the first two years of my life, so she’ll know who or what I am, and hopefully know why I’m changing now too. I need to find her.

  The sun is high in the sky and I curse myself for sleeping in. Mamochka could be on her way here now, determined to find me and take me to the hospital. And the Blue Mountain looks far away, more than a day’s walk. After struggling to see in the dark, and hearing the howls of the wolf pack, I’d rather not travel at night again. Which means planning a route that will get me to another of Anatoly’s cabins before dusk.

  I look at my map again. If I walk north along the banks of the Silver Stream, I’ll pass two of Anatoly’s cabins. It’s a winding, indirect route, but it’s easy to follow. And if Anatoly is in one of the cabins, he could sled me to the bear cave.

  “Human girl,” Mousetrap shouts, and I turn to see him hanging over the edge of the roof. “There’s a store up here. It might hold Anatoly’s cod, but I can’t get into it.”

  I squint at the viewing platform Anatoly built on the roof. I had forgotten all about it. The last time I came here, when I was five years old, I was small enough for Anatoly to lift me onto it. The platform is the perfect place to get a look at the route I’ve planned, and it might give me an idea of exactly how far away the bear cave is.

  “On my way,” I call to Mousetrap, and bound through the snow to a ladder fixed to the far end of the cabin. I step onto it tentatively, worried it won’t hold my weight, but each rung is thick and holds firm.

  The view from the roof whips my breath away. The snowy forest stretches out as far as I can see. The enormity of it makes me giddy.

  “Mousetrap, look!” My hand flies up when I spot the Blue Mountain in the distance, rising from the forest like a tooth.

  But Mousetrap isn’t paying attention. He’s trying to break the lock on a small store while still babbling on about cod.

  I unroll my map again and try to match it up with the landscape. The Silver Stream shines as it cuts through the forest. Though it’s called a stream, it’s actually a long, braided river—and in places it is as wide and deep as a lake. Its icy surface is breaking up, crumpling and shifting as channels of water start to flow. I can’t believe it’s already two days since the festival, when the Big Melt began.

  I’m jolted by an echoing crash, a splash, and a piercing scream. My gaze darts along the riverbank below. The scream rises to an earsplitting screech and finally I spot the creature in distress—something large and leggy, maybe a deer or an elk. It’s fallen through the ice at the river’s edge and is thrashing around, trying to pull itself out.

  “Help!” The creature’s cries become words in my mind and I rush to the ladder, pushing my map back into my pocket. It takes too long to climb down, so I jump into the snow and run across the clearing. “I’m going to help,” I call back to Mousetrap, but he’s streaking alongside me already.

  I pick up speed as the ground slopes away, and skid down the hill, snow avalanching ahead of my feet. Then I pause at the bottom to listen for the cries again.

  “This way.” Mousetraps sprints ahead of me and I follow him off the trail, through tightly packed pines, until the shrieks are so loud I know we must be close.

  Bright light shines ahead, reflecting off the ice on the river. A young elk is struggling in the water at the edge. I can just make out his long brown face, two short velvety antlers, and two gangly legs skidding around in front of him as he fails to get a grip. His whole back end has fallen through the ice.

  “Help!” he wails, and I rush toward him—but I stop in my tracks when I see a person behind a tangle of branches, kneeling next to the elk. They are wrapped in a huge coat with a fur-lined hood that covers their face. Mousetrap leaps onto my shoulder and squeezes deep into my collar, out of sight.

  “Get off!” The elk shrieks as the person tries to loop a rope under his front legs. He cries for help again, his voice panicked and confused. I groan as I walk over because I don’t want the person to see me like this. I’m scared their stare might wither away the last of my hope of ever fitting in with people. But I can’t leave the elk struggling when I could help.

  I glance down. My long skirt covers everything apart from my feet, and they might pass for boots. The person is so focused on the rope that they haven’t noticed me approaching, so I kneel next to the elk, hiding my feet behind me.

  “It’s all right,” I say gently, putting my hand on his warm, silk-soft snout. The elk’s big brown eyes swivel toward me, wide with fear. I wrap my arms around his woolly neck, to prevent him from sliding farther into the river, and his legs stop thrashing. “I’m Yanka,” I whisper into his ear. “I’m going to help you.”

  “Y-Yuri,” the elk stammers. “I’m Yuri. Help me up. I’m so cold.”

  I turn to the person still fumbling with the rope, and my mouth drops open when he looks up at me with familiar gray eyes.

  “Sasha! What are you doing here?”

  “I came looking for you,” Sasha snaps, and I frown, confused by his annoyance. He loops the rope around Yuri’s neck and under his front legs again. “They wouldn’t let me join the search party, so I—”

  “Search party?” My head whips around in panic. I don’t want a group of villagers finding me and taking me back now—I have to make it to the bear cave and discover my story.

  “They won’t have gotten this far yet.” Sasha glances up from the knot he’s tying. “They were still gathering supplies when I left, and I’ve been skiing along the riverbank, faster than they’ll travel through the forest.”

  A current swells and tugs at Yuri, and he thrashes against the ice. He kicks Sasha’s wrist by accident. Sasha isn’t hurt, but the rope falls from his hands.

  I lower my arms farther into the river to tighten my grip on Yuri. Icy water trickles into my sleeves and I grit my teeth against the cold. “You shouldn’t have come looking for me,” I grumble. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Of course people are going to come looking for you.” Sasha picks up the rope again and resumes tying a knot. His movements are quick and jerky. “You went into the forest alone at night. And after you’d been injured. What were you thinking?”

  The anger in his voice bites like the icy water. Sasha has never been angry with me before. I groan and try to lift Yuri, but he doesn’t budge.

  Sasha finishes tying the knot and pulls the rope taut. It digs into Yuri’s flesh and he lets out a high-pitched wail. “Don’t cry,” I whisper into his ear. “I know it hurts, but we’re trying to help.” I grip Yuri and pull as hard as I can while Sasha tugs on the rope. But Yuri still doesn’t rise. “This isn’t working.”

  “Maybe if we both pull the rope?” Sasha edges toward me, to make it easier for me to grab the rope, but I don’t want to let go of Yuri even for a moment, in case Sasha can’t hold him on his own.

  I shake my head. “I just need a better grip.” I lean deeper into the water, until it sloshes over the front of my coat and trickles between the buttons. I gasp at the cold but manage to reach my arms farther around Yuri’s chest. Strength surges through me, and Yuri rises as I pull … But then the ice under me tilts and dips.

  “Watch out!” Mousetrap squeals in my ear as a crack opens between me and Yuri. Yuri screams as he crashes fully through the ice. A wave of freezing water splashes over my face, and for a moment I can’t see anything but bubbles and light.

  Yuri slips from my arms, and before I can reach him again, a current grabs him and whooshes him away, a dark blur beneath the frozen surface.
The rope burns through Sasha’s palms and he yells in pain.

  I jump to my feet and run after Yuri, across the frozen parts of the river.

  “Stop!” Sasha shouts. “You’ll fall through the ice too.”

  But saving Yuri is all I can think about. I pick up speed, moving across the bluer, thicker ice, until I’m ahead of him. Then I choose a place where the ice is thinner, lift a foot, and smash it into the crust.

  The ice cracks. I hit it again, and again, until a hole opens. Then I drop to my belly and plunge my arms into the hole, right up to my neck.

  I’m so focused on the outline of Yuri flowing toward me that I don’t feel the cold. He slams into my arms and I wrap them around him, lock my fingers tight together, and heave. But he’s too heavy. The current drags him away. I roar with the effort. Blood and heat surge into my face. But I can’t pull him from the water. And I feel myself slipping and sliding into the hole.

  Sasha appears at my side. He lowers his arms next to mine and grabs Yuri too. With us both struggling together, gradually Yuri emerges. But his eyes are glazed over and he’s worryingly still.

  “I think he’s dead,” Sasha whispers as we pull Yuri’s back legs onto the ice.

  I shake my head, my eyes burning. “He just needs to warm up.” I rub Yuri’s chest and move his legs up and down, trying to get his blood flowing. He asked me to help him. He told me his name and calmed down when I held him. He already feels like more of a friend than most of the people in the village. He can’t be gone.

  Sasha lowers his face to Yuri’s snout. “He’s not breathing.”

  My vision blurs. I should have been strong enough to save him. I thump Yuri’s chest, and the ice beneath us wobbles.

  “We need to go, Yanka. It isn’t safe here.”

  But I carry on pummeling, trying to wake Yuri’s heart. My fist pounds into him, and the ice beneath us splits. A crack spreads in a jagged circle around Yuri, and between me and Sasha.

  “Come on!” Sasha shouts, but I can’t take my eyes off Yuri. There must be a way to save him.

  The crack widens and water surges into it. I look up at Sasha in desperation.

  But he’s staring at my feet, with their thick fur and long dark claws. Above them my skirt is wet, clinging to my legs, revealing their new size and shape.

  Sasha’s face pales and his forehead crumples. And with that look, everything changes. Any lingering desire I had to return to the village rushes away. Because Sasha, my only friend, the only person besides Mamochka who has always treated me like I belonged, is now staring at me the same way everyone else stares at me—like I don’t fit.

  My world shatters. Mamochka’s too-wide smile. Sasha’s look of horror. If the two people I love react like this, how would the rest of the village behave? I wouldn’t be surprised if they screamed and drove me back into the forest, the way they drive any bears back that wander too close to the village.

  I don’t belong in the village, or with people, at all. I never have—and like this, I never will.

  My face smolders with shame and disappointment and a million other emotions I don’t understand. I roar as loud as I can, from the depths of my lungs, and the great thunderous rumble of an angry bear echoes along the river.

  “Yanka, please.” Sasha reaches for my hand. “Come with me. I want to help.”

  For a moment my fingers twitch toward his, but it’s a hopeless wish for something already gone. I’ve changed too much, and everything between me and Sasha, and me and Mamochka, and me and whatever life I had before, is gone.

  I reach up to check whether Mousetrap is still curled around my neck, then I smash a foot into the crack between me and Sasha and push hard. The great chunk of ice Yuri and I are on breaks free and the current pulls us away.

  “Yanka! What are you doing? Wait! Stop!” Sasha surges up, as if he’s going to leap onto the floe with me, but I’m too far away already. He sprints after me along the riverbank instead. But the current speeds me away faster than Sasha can run. I sit, paralyzed by the realization of what I’ve done. There’s no turning back now.

  My stomach lurches as the ice floe tilts and sways. It speeds me across the river and around a bend. Sasha is left on the other bank, his arms loose at his sides. I swallow back the urge to shout for help. Another twist around another bend, and Sasha disappears behind the trees.

  All the cold comes at once. I’m drenched, right up to my neck. I grab on to Yuri as the floe pitches sideways. He groans, then coughs. Water sprays from his mouth and nose.

  “You’re alive!” I hug Yuri’s woolly neck. He rolls his eyes up at me and shivers. “We need to get off this thing.” I look around, desperately trying to think of a plan. But we’re sailing far from the shore, and there’s nothing I can grab to pull us closer.

  Mousetrap runs down my arm and jumps onto Yuri, where the rope is still tied around his neck. “Could you use this?”

  I try to untie the knot, but my fingers are too frozen to feel the rope in my hands.

  “Here.” A moment later, Mousetrap drops a frayed end into my lap. He’s nibbled through the rope. I thank him, although my teeth are chattering so much I’m not sure he understands.

  We swerve toward another bend. On the far side of it, a thick branch overhangs the river. I gather up the rope in my arms and flex my hands. Blood flows into my fingers, making them sting like nettle burns.

  I hold my breath, wait until we’re almost directly underneath the branch, then fling the end of the rope into the air. It flies over the branch but tangles in a clump of frosty twigs. I growl in annoyance, because the twigs don’t look strong enough to hold our weight.

  The floe slides under the branch, and the rope lengthens, then pulls taut. Twigs snap, the branch creaks, and we swing sideways, making Yuri slip toward the water.

  I grasp his neck with one hand and hold the rope with the other. For a sickening moment I think we’re going to flip into the river, but then we pick up speed, swerve toward the bank, and smash into the shore.

  “Quick, get up,” I shout. Yuri struggles onto his front hooves, and the floe tips as he scrambles off. He lands in a heap, chest heaving, his back legs dangling in the river.

  I rise to my feet, lose my balance, and skid into the icy water up to my waist. I brace myself for the cold, but the fur on my legs protects me from the worst of it. I dig my fingers into the frozen earth and, with a great heave, pull myself up.

  “Mousetrap?” I gasp.

  “I’m here.” His whiskers tickle my ear.

  I lift Yuri’s back legs out of the water and push him under a pine, where low boughs have shielded the ground from snow. Then I collapse against him to catch my breath. I pull my coat tight around my chest but it’s soaking wet and I shiver hard.

  “You need to get dry and warm.” Mousetrap leans over my face. “You can’t rest now.”

  But I’m so cold and so tired that I close my eyes and can’t help falling asleep.

  When I wake, it’s dark and I’m frozen numb.

  “Thank cod,” Mousetrap chirrs into my ear. “I’ve been trying to wake you for hours. We have to go.”

  “What’s wrong?” I wheeze. Ice cracks on my lips.

  “Wolves,” Mousetrap hisses. “A whole pack of them, circling closer. I think they’re after your elk.”

  Yuri is frozen stiff, his breathing weak. I rub his neck and chest until he stirs to life.

  “Hold him tight,” Mousetrap barks.

  “Why?”

  “Because he’ll bolt when he smells the wolves, and they’ll run him down easily in the state he’s in.”

  I wrap my arms around Yuri’s neck as he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

  “Wolves!” he squeals. His eyes roll in their sockets and he struggles to stand.

  “Prey animals,” Mousetrap scoffs. He jumps onto Yuri’s head and talks into his ear. “You’re all the same, fleeing at the first whiff of danger. But you shouldn’t do that with wolves. They’ll chase you into a
trap—a thicket or a gully—then they’ll be on you before you know what’s happened.”

  “Help!” Yuri cries, and his hooves thrash against the earth.

  “You’re making him panic.” I glare at Mousetrap and tighten my grip on Yuri. “It’s all right. I’ll protect you. I promise.” My voice is steady, the opposite of how I feel. But acting strong for Yuri is like scaffolding for myself.

  “You’ll be my herd?” Yuri stops struggling and looks from me to Mousetrap.

  “For now.” I nod. “Come on. Get up.” I help Yuri onto his hooves. He’s young but already tall enough to look me in the eye. “We’ll follow the river.” I stare into the shadows upstream, wondering how far away Anatoly’s next cabin is. I don’t know where we are, and it’s too dark to read my map.

  Mousetrap points his nose into the pines, away from the river. “I smell food cooking and hear singing on the breeze.”

  I listen and sniff the air. But I don’t hear singing or smell any food. “Are you sure? I remember the map showing Anatoly’s cabin on the riverbank, not among pines.”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Mousetrap scowls so ferociously I lower my head and walk in the direction he suggested. My clothes are crusted with ice and I’m frozen to the bone. If I’m going to survive the night, wolves or not, I need shelter. And it’s possible Anatoly’s cabin might be a little way into the forest but still look close to the river on the map.

  Yuri and I make so much noise walking between the tightly packed trees that it’s impossible to listen for stalking wolves. And if there are any, they’ll know where we are.

  Mousetrap reluctantly leads us down a slope, muttering that it’s too far to walk around. He orders us to be quiet, but we skid down the hill on slush and collapse at the bottom in a series of splashes and thuds.

  Suddenly, Yuri screams—the same deafening, earsplitting noise he made when he fell through the ice. I frown at him, confused—then make out a writhing dark creature on top of him.

  A wolf. Teeth flash as they bite into Yuri’s rump.