Kallik led the way into a nearby copse and discovered a small hollow under the roots of a tree. She and Lusa squeezed into it together.

‘Try to get some sleep,’ Kallik urged Lusa. ‘Maybe things will be better tomorrow.’ But she knew that her words were empty, and Lusa wasn’t deceived.

Kallik felt as though she was lying on every sharp pebble, every pointed scrap of twig, in the whole wilderness. Sleep was impossible; though Lusa was crouched beside her with her paws over her nose, Kallik could tell that the little black bear wasn’t asleep, either. Stars began to appear through the branches of the tree above her head, clustering so thickly that the sky looked white through Kallik’s half-closed eyes.

‘Kallik?’ Lusa sat up suddenly, startling Kallik out of a doze. ‘Kallik, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to look for Ujurak. I can’t let the metal bird take him away. No bird can fly forever, so I’ll follow the way we saw it go, and find it wherever it landed.’ She hesitated, gazing deep into Kallik’s eyes, then added, ‘I’ll understand if you don’t want to come with me. I know you want to go back to the ice, and . . . and I wish you luck there . . .’ Her voice trailed off miserably.

‘What are you, fluff-brained or something?’ Kallik nosed Lusa’s shoulder. ‘Of course I’m coming with you.’

Joy flooded into Lusa’s eyes, and she sprang to her paws. ‘Really? You’re sure?’

‘As sure as I’ve ever been.’

‘Then let’s go!’

As Kallik followed Lusa back towards the lake, she thought about how quickly she had made the decision to look for Ujurak. She had felt the pull of the ice so strongly for so long, and she had been ready to find her own path there, without the others. But since Ujurak had got injured, she had felt the bond with her friends grow stronger than the draw of the ice. Ujurak needs our help, and now Lusa needs me.

Kallik and Lusa trudged side by side through the darkness. All was silent except for the sighing of the wind and the occasional cry of a night bird. At last, exhausted, they stopped to rest on the crest of a hill, with dawn a pale silver line on the horizon.

‘I hope we’re going the right way,’ Lusa murmured.

‘This is the direction the metal bird was flying,’ Kallik pointed out. ‘It has to come down to earth sooner or later.’

Lusa let out a faint sigh. ‘Kallik . . .’ she began. ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’

‘Yes?’

‘You remember my accident on Smoke Mountain? When the firebeast struck me?’

Kallik nodded.

‘I had a dream afterwards. My mother came to me and told me something I didn’t understand. And I still don’t understand it.’