Chapter 30

"Cooperation"

I am a prisoner.

Or so the bears thought as they escorted me out of the Great Cave and into the forest. They flanked me on either side, oblivious to the fact that I could escape by darting ahead, abruptly stopping to get behind, or vanishing completely from their midst in a feint. More guide than guard, they slowed as we eventually came to a pit. It consisted of a hole in the ground that led to a little chamber below. Based on the washed out nature of the rock, there were probably many caves and caverns and catacombs like this scattered around the area. A network of tunnels likely traced unseen paths through the mountain. In spring, such holes would be hard to distinguish from the undergrowth. Many would fall to their deaths which was probably why the bears used them as cages for enemies and traitors and prisoners. We stopped at the edge of the hole. I looked down into the darkness. Was this where the "other" was kept? If it was, the other probably stuck to the walls where they could not be seen to avoid harassment and ridicule from its captors.

After a moment, the shadows moved. I carefully smiled down into the hole, making sure my body blocked the light streaming down within. It encouraged the other to show itself. A single Mighty Hena stepped into the center. He looked small down in the bottom of the pit. Fur and mane dirty, matted and dusty. It had been so long since he entered the light that he had to squint against it when looking toward the sky. Based off of his width, he was growing thin. But his legs were still strong. As they always have been. For this was none other than Runner. That of my own pack, Blessed with speed and endurance and agility.

At Castle Rock, he left with the Pack of the Forests to notify us if war came to the mountains. I recognized his marks and his Spirit instantly, and he, mine, but he was too dumbfounded to believe it. Any would have doubted my presence. This was not a place one would expect to find another Mighty Hena, let alone Mother of the Grasslands. He must have thought me a dream. A vision. My poor Runner, trapped with nowhere to run. Nowhere to move. Not even a single breeze to brush by.

I jumped into the pit, leaving two awestruck bears behind. My tail flicked, not without flourish, as I disappeared into the dark, plunging away the light to ease Runner's fatigue of the daylight hours and to hide him from the distrusting eyes of the bears. Even when my escort tried to peer inside, they saw nothing but a black veil. The barrier of my domain. One they were not fit to enter. The bears carefully backed away from the edge.

Down below, I appeared at the bottom of the pit, landing easily with the tricks I learned from many a pitfall. Little Diggers and Shrews and Pinching Bugs occasionally made underground networks of their own in the grasslands. Coming in from above was also a great way to drop in on a Bone Taker ritual when given the opportunity. They never expected Mighty Hena to fall from the sky like stars.

I waited as Runner looked me over from my ears to my marks and my paws. When he realized I was no vision, he folded his ears, dropped his head, pinched his eyes in a squint and wagged his tail.

"Mama!" he cried, stamping and pushing up underneath my head and into my chest to immerse himself in my presence.

I pushed back, just as glad to see him, to see my pack, so far from home. We played lightly, but soon he began to pant heavily. The play used up too much energy, and he had little left, so I had him lay down beside me and enhanced his rest. With my help, he fell asleep. I then Walked with him in his dreams so that he could be with me while he recovered his strength. In the dream world, he ran up to me easily. Fur and focus vibrant and strong as if he just came from a long and grueling chase. His favorite.

We were back in the grasslands where it was flat and breezy and filled with short grassy land perfect for traveling. Runner was no stranger to me or my ways, so he knew it was no simple dream. I could tell he had not had such a dream since he left the grasslands. His days had been filled with brambles, sharp stones, and twisting obstructed paths that only the mountains could create. Going in, I wanted him to be comfortable, so I created this dream for him. I knew it made him the most happy. His joy bubbled out with every pant.

"Have come?" he asked of me and the pack. "Maw Maw? Jumpsies? Alpha?"

His words were often as swift as his legs, skipping those that did not matter for the sake of efficiency.

"Only Mother," I told him.

His disappointment was fleeting. Strangely nonexistent. Then again, to be reunited with me in his isolation was to reunite him with the Spirit and it had been overflowing from me since I left the Fire Ponies. He probably felt as good as he appeared under its influence.

"I left. To run. And tell of mountain," he said, "but bear catch me. Keep me."

The suspicions I had about the spotted Mountain Cats were warranted. Something had happened with the Pack of the Forests and Runner tried to come to the grasslands for help, but the bears stopped him. Probably because of the situation with Queen Bear. I stepped outside of the dream to catch another glimpse of Runner curled up beside me in the dim grey light of the pit. His legs were beaten and bloody. Fur discolored and scarred in places. Running in the mountains was very different than the grasslands and yet he had no complaint in his heart. His purpose and blessing too strong to be stopped by pain. I returned to the dream to listen to the rest of his story.

"I howl," he picked up, bursting with elation. "You come!"

The call had been too far from my ears, but the Spirit heard it. That was why I was here and could not bring myself to leave. Captured by the bears and unable to come to the grasslands, the Spirit of the pack brought me to him. Such was its power. But for him to seek aid meant that the situation in the mountains was not balanced. Like how Guardian called from the riverlands in summer, the mountains called in winter. I did not have the full weight of the pack behind me, but the grasslands would answer the call, no matter what form it must take.

"Tell me of the mountains," I said, bracing myself for the worst.

Using his dreams to supplement his words, Runner told me a story I was all too familiar with. Darkened creatures gathered allies on the other side of the valley just like Exile in the riverlands. Their northern forces pressed up against the residing pack's territory and Alpha of the Forests managed to hold the line by enlisting the help of the lesser packs. But their unified pack was spread thin and if they did not find reinforcements soon, they would not be able to hold their positions. Unlike Exile's pack, this opposing force was made of mountain creatures who were much tougher and hardy and brutish than those of the lower lands.

Long harsh winters made them bitter and greedy. Knowing what he was up against, Alpha met with the bears to solicit their help, but the bears refused. They would not involve themselves with the affairs of others. The Mighty Hena were unworthy if they could not handle their own problems, especially when they relied on such numbers. Their oh-so precious pack. The bears did not yet feel the pressure of the front lines. The alliance failed, but the potential for future relations could still rekindle, so the enemy tried to snuff out the prospects by sending assassins to kill the unprepared and unsuspecting Queen Bear and her cub. Somehow, their plot was discovered halfway through, and with no time to finish the job, the cats kidnapped the cub. They fled as far as they could before they found their way to me.

This coming of creatures. These coordinated attacks, war was truly upon the wild in ways I never imagined. When I cried out for battle under the blue moon at Castle Rock, I had no idea our foe was so formidable. Then again, even if I did, I would have howled all the same.

A noise echoed in from the real world outside of the dream. Leaving Runner to race full force through the grasslands with the entirety of the pack, I ended my Walk and raised my head from Runner's slowly rising chest. The hole above us was dim with shadow, but I could still see the outline of two bears as they attempted to look into the pit. It was night now, and given the way they had left us alone until now, things were starting to move again. Without knowing my name or what lay beyond the veil of darkness, they could do nothing but fidget. One of them coughed out a stutter.

"King Bear calls," he spoke into the darkness.

I doubt My Cub commanded much of anything in the storm of treachery and scandal currently spiraling around their mountain, but whoever it was that called knew I would answer to no other. I got up and stood under the hole, lifting the domain so that I could see the bears properly in the moonlight. They were the same ones from before. I had no reason to trust them, or any bear for that matter. Had I found Runner's bones at the bottom of this pit, I would have buried him with Bear Country's finest. I looked back at Runner. His paws twitched happily. If not for him, I would have already made my escape to solve this on my own, but now I knew this task was too large for a single Mighty Hena.

The two bears left the hole and began dragging an old tree log over to stick inside of the pit to let me out. A few moments later, while they were still dragging the log, I hopped out of the pit onto ground level and trotted past them behind their backs. Such a pit was a daunting thing. But where the ledges and rocks and places where many claws dug out the earth were too small for bears, they were perfect for the size of a Mighty Hena's paw, especially those well versed in momentum and angles and Spirit.

It was dark now, so none of the other bears that occasionally crossed my path saw me. No Hena ever dared pass so easily through the heart of their territory so none thought to look for me. They were also not used to being awake during their time of hibernation, so they did not know how to see properly in the snow. I traced the way we came and slowed when I came upon the mouth of the Great Cave. The moonlight shined strongly through the trees, dappling the snowy forest floor with shadow. I might as well have been invisible.

The power of the cave radiated up from the mountain and into my paws. The one who called me was inside. I felt their Spirit, crackling and burning as they waited for me. Flickering intently. I never felt such things from a bear. Was something else inside with it? The stories on the wall whispered to me even from all the way out here. I knew I was old but the Spirit of this place was much older. Ancient in origin. I would be wise to respect it. So I walked into the cave as I would Castle Rock. Calm, controlled and open about who I was. No tricks. No shadows other than my own. No bolster or extravagance. A Mighty Hena and a Mighty Hena only.

I rounded the corner to find a much more darkened cave with the same platform and beam of light to highlight it. Only this time, the beam was softer because of the delicacy of moonlight. The old grey bear stood in the middle of it with her back to me, staring up through the hole at the moon. The rest of the cave was empty, but her Spirit filled it with the confinement of a snow hold. I stopped approaching as she turned to look at me, aware of my presence when I was otherwise no different than the shadows of the cave. She then dropped down from the platform with the heaviness of age. Knowing their tradition, the action was an immediate indicator that she did not mean to fight or challenge me.

We were headed in the right direction.

She stopped a few paces away from the platform where the light still reached her. Bears never hid in the shadows unless they happened to be trudging through them, but this was a deliberate sign of the peace she was trying to promote between us. Standing on the edge of darkness was her way of encouraging my approach. There was something different about her. Her Spirit had been washed in some type of ritual. It was so strong, I could smell and feel and taste the water she used. The water that ran somewhere in the mountain around us. A secret place only this bear and maybe a select few knew about.

I saw it in Spirit. Another cave illuminated by glowing bugs. A waterfall collecting in a small but deep pool between large slabs of smooth rock that resembled cracked sheets of ice. Where the grasslands had rivers for purification, Bear Country had waterfalls. I wondered if the two ran together somewhere. I stopped at a respectful distance in the same shade of light as the bear, but from the opposite side. She was not surprised to see me alone. Her bears were not capable of catching shadow. Not yet. And she knew it. The old bear looked me over with one eye, then the other. By now, My Cub must have told her what transpired in the woods with the cats.

"Who are you?" she asked.

I waited a moment, contemplating what it would be like for bears and Mighty Hena to exchange words when we were both so poor with them. I remembered the screaming and swirling chaos that filled the cave in the day. We would both have to chew the words that filled our mouths carefully before speaking them.

"I am Mother," I answered.

The markings on the wall danced lightly before going still again. Irritation flashed across the old bear's face.

"Before that," she corrected, using her paw to bat aside the answer.

"Prima," I said.

This time, the old bear's lips curled back. She kept her teeth clenched because she could not criticize such names. Not when they made the marks on the wall come to life with their stories.

"Not your totems," she loudly clarified, grinding her teeth. "From birth."

I could not answer. We Mighty Hena did not name our pups right away because too often they did not survive.

Seeing my impassive silence, the old bear went so far as to give me an example.

"I am Elder Bear," she formally announced. "Daughter of Indigo."

I did not understand because I could not tell the subtle differences in bear identifiers as I could Mighty Hena, but a name had been called which meant there was power to it. So I looked at the old bear in Spirit. The Spirit then revealed to me how bears saw Spirit in color. That was how they kept track of themselves. It was beautiful and vivid and so very different from Mighty Hena who lived in shades of grey. But Mighty Hena did not trace our bloodlines. We had hereditary marks, yes, but only when a young one proved that they were part of the pack, no matter who birthed them, were they named. Blood relation meant nothing in terms of earned rank.

The old bear sighed, huffing a grunt.

"You!" she finally shouted, no longer able to hold back. "Yourself!"

Ah, she spoke of Self names. Yet we Mighty Hena lost our Self names once we gained high rank. Elder Bear did not accept my name because bears did not care of rank. Only of one's personal worth and relation which made up who they were. This cooperation was not easy. No wonder bears and Mighty Hena did not get along. It took such effort for so little. I envied Omega and his gifts that removed such burdens.

"Kateri Moonborn," I said, finally understanding.

"Moonborn…" Elder Bear repeated, feeling out my name and comparing it to my Spirit.

She was unable to see it clearly amongst so much darkness.

"Up," she grunted with a nod of her head.

She wanted me on the platform. The place of might and conviction and challenges. I remained where I was. I did not seek to challenge the High Spirit of the bear. My first howl was only to establish my voice among their own. At the time, it seemed the only way to compete with them. This was their place of power, not mine. Then again, that which she was trying to challenge might not be me, but something about her own heart and thoughts and Spirit. With that in mind, I hopped up onto the platform and stood in the middle of the spotlight. The moon bathed me in its quiet radiance.

Slowly, my Spirit revealed itself in the light. Silver and ethereal. Gentle, but stronger than the fabric that bound the wild and all its elements together. My mane and tail appeared long and flowing. My spiritual armor became a second skin, hovering like a ghost over my body, yet it was more alive than I would ever be for it was eternal and I, a conduit of its will.

Elder Bear examined me very closely, pinching her eyes now and again, turning her head ever so slightly, looking and watching and remembering. She made a circle around the platform. I wonder what she would call the color of my Spirit? Bears had many more names for colors than Mighty Hena. And then, like the passing of a cloud over the moon. The image slowly disappeared and my armor faded away. Always there but not always seen or felt. Elder Bear continued to look at me in the same curious way she had since the beginning. I wonder if the light even made a difference to her hyper color vision.

"You are a Daughter of the Moon," she finally declared.

I could not disagree. It was better than Devil Dog. Elder Bear scoffed and dropped her head. She then began to pace. Having seen my Spirit, she now knew everything she needed to about my temperament. Just like how I could read hearts in dreams. It was a great gift. And a great danger for any two toned creature like the Mighty Hena. Caught in the wrong light, it might be the death of us. I suppose such a dueling Spirit went well with our marks.

Eventually, Elder Bear stopped. She could see many things through the Spirit, but there were some truths even the best of us could not understand even if we saw them right in front of us.

"You are not like the others," she said, referring to the Mighty Hena that lived in these mountains.

I could not answer. It was not my place.

"You are not of the mountains," she tried again.

"I come from the grasslands," I confirmed.

She tilted her head, hardening her cloudy eye.

"You come for blood," she realized.

"I follow the hunt," I amended.

"And who do you mean to catch with those teeth?" she growled.

Any that found their way between my jaws, but I would not tell her such things. Elder Bear pursed her lips and raised her chin a little, not that she needed the extra height. She was wary of me. Of what my presence meant on her mountain.

"You bring change," she corrected, coming to understand something in my colors.

I was not of this mountain nor immersed in their ways. I could not tell the difference if there was one, but my continued silence would never get us anywhere.

"I restore balance," I tried to explain, relying on that which I knew best.

Elder Bear snorted. She then chuckled. Short and brisk and skeptical. It then bubbled into something else. Something that made her roar with laughter.

"Balance!" she exclaimed. "You'll have to go all the way to the peaks for such lofty ideals!"

Sarcasm filled her words. The kind built on lost longing. No matter the language, no matter the dialect, that which was said but not spoken was always the loudest in times of distress. I heard it like the whispering of this very cave. So very delicately did the curses scratch at my ears.

"And what," I began, slow and careful, "would I find at the top of this mountain?"

Elder Bear stopped laughing. She dropped the performance. Her face slackened. When she looked at me, I saw how old she truly was. So much older than me, but only in years. She no longer held her head higher than mine. She could not. Elder Bear dropped down to all fours and walked closer to me, mere inches away, eyes darting back and forth between mine. I stared back. The color of my eyes would be enough. Elder Bear then turned away and began pacing, eyes drilling into the floor with her deliberations.

"The ghosts, the curses from the south, that was you?" she asked, jumping back to the very start of our conversation, about changes and purpose. She must have felt the dark forces steadily creeping up the mountain only to have them all suddenly disappear like an avalanche because of my blazing hunt.

"Yes," I confirmed.

Elder Bear stopped and whirled upon me.

"Can you do it again?"

Something changed in Elder Bear and she came nose to nose.

"You must go to the altar!" she said, so very angry and loud and desperate. "Finish what you started!"

I did well up until this point, but this old screaming bear had finally shouted over my patience. I bristled, tail rising at the accusation that I was the source of all the misfortune running rampant in bear country. But I must remember that what she said was not what she meant. Now, more than ever, I needed to understand. What would Omega hear in her words? I begged the Spirit to make up for what I lacked. And suddenly, it came to me as easily as a howl. With a keen eye, I saw the desperation in Elder Bear's eyes. I smelt her fear with a dust eater's nose. I heard her racing heart, felt her pain, and recognized her hope. Using all the gifts of the Spirit, I understood what she wanted of me.

My help.

The enlightenment lasted only a moment, yet it left me feeling as if I had lived my entire life on the mountain. Elder Bear must have felt something too because she turned away in another huff, stood up, and walked the few steps over to the platform in silence.

"What is at the top of the mountain?" I asked again.

Elder Bear looked up into the moonlight once more. It was too bright for her this time and she winked an eye against it.

"A legion of ghosts occupies the moon altar," she said.

In the riverlands, they called such places temples. Unlike Castle Rock and the Great Cave where the Spirit naturally gathered, temples and altars were made by ancient humans and creatures as places of power. This moon altar must be one of them.

"They harness the power of the night for their dark purposes," she went on, and as a creature of the day, she probably meant it to be foreboding. What she truly felt was the taint of curses.

"Did you not hear the drums?" I asked.

Elder Bear was obviously of great Spirit. Did she not hear the beatings of the clubs? Even if there were no Shaman, did she not hear the wailing at night or see the colors in the sunrise? Was this not her territory to protect?

Elder Bear dropper her head. Her shoulders shrank. She did not turn to face me.

"The curses were small at first. I thought them no threat against the Great Bear."

It was what they called their High Spirit.

"They gathered power in secret and by the time I recognized the danger, the seeds of chaos were already sewn."

It reminded me of the Bone Takers in their burrow and the Shaman in her temple. Had my pack not discovered and hunted them first, the grasslands would have ended up the same.

"With the full moon coming and the way things are," she went on, "I am afraid it will be the challenger's blow."

She spoke of the attack in a bear duel that decided the winner in the challenger's favor.

"Why do you wait?" I prompted. "Fight!"

My teeth sharpened the words when they blew by. If the blow had not yet landed, then it was not too late. These bears had given up before they even started.

Elder Bear stomped, shaking the cave. She would have shouted but she did not want to wake the mountain with admittance of her short comings.

"I cannot," she stated instead.

"Are you not the temple's priest?"

"I do not maintain the altar," she defended, understanding my reference to the riverlands' equivalent. "That is for the Gate Keepers."

"And that is your excuse to do nothing?"

Elder Bear whirled around, claws extended.

"With the death of Queen Bear, the absence of a Crowned King, and war breaking in the valley, I cannot leave my cave. The country is too vulnerable. Their curses poisoned us just as your bite did the King's Guard."

She noticed then. At the time, I did not even try to use my poison fang. The residue had simply remained from my regular salivating. Luckily for both parties, bears were hoarders by nature and could sniff out berries or roots for antidotes quickly.

"Then why deny the pack?" I asked, speaking of the Mighty Hena's offer to join paws.

It was unprecedented, yes, but we creatures once made alliances of such caliber long ago.

"We can barely manage ourselves," Elder Bear confessed with a grind of her teeth. "And we cannot lose another King Bear so soon."

I remembered the two Mountain Cats.

"It would lead to anarchy," she went on.

Which meant the forces against us would try to kill the future King Bear again. It would be the ultimate fulfillment of their curse, crippling bear country completely. My Cub was still in danger. She should have started with that. Bears and their politics.

"I will go and face this Legion," I announced, "but you must promise to help the Mighty Hena of the Forests."

Balance was needed in all things. Elder Bear froze as if bitten by my icy fang. Hope flashed across her eyes, but only for a moment. She turned her head away with a rough scoff that announced her dislike of the Mighty Hena. The pack creatures she saw such weakness in. Her rivals for generations.

"I will take the other," I added, for we lowly pack creatures must stick together.

I would not abandon Runner at the bottom of a bear's pit. Elder Bear grunted and kicked at the ground, brandishing her claws until finally making a decision.

"You may go," she said. "And we will see who keeps their promises."

It was not an acknowledgment or commitment or promise, but it was a start.

A short while later, they brought Runner out from the pit. Elder Bear's apprentices flanked him on either side. My Cub was with them. He rode on Runner's back. To him, all Mighty Hena looked the same, which meant he saw me when he looked at any other. I had accepted him under my watch which made him a part of the pack by extension, and given the way the Spirit revealed itself to bears, it was likely he saw the Spirit of the pack itself. It explained how he was able to identify me so easily in the dark.

My Cub smiled and reached for me. My smile was not nearly so grand for there was much to be done and many challenges ahead of us. The biggest, by far, was leaving My Cub behind when I knew there to be danger in bear country. Curses snickering in the shadows when I was not there to fill them. But staying here was only a temporary measure. The only way to purify these mountains was from the top down. And as King Bear, My Cub must do the same.

I trotted over to the group. Runner came to a stop and the two bears moved away as I came up beside him. My Cub pawed and grabbed at my face, leaving a sweet scent behind. I licked, nudged, and nibbled him back before he transferred over to his favorite spot on my shoulders. Elder Bear came over, cloudy eye always aimed in my direction, and reunited with her apprentices. The three royal guards entered the cave behind them, looking much taller and straighter now that the antidote was starting to counteract my poison. I walked up to meet them. We exchanged a look of understanding. Even without this tentative alliance, my actions had proven my conviction, tenacity, and capability. These guards were not priests, but they were of the Spirit, and probably knew me better than any other in bear country at this moment. I would leave My Cub in their care.

One of the guards stepped forward and offered their paw to the King Bear. He grabbed my mane a little tighter, but only for a moment. He was just a cub, but he was no fool and had been told what it was I set off to do for them. For the first time, he exercised great pride when he left my back and stepped on to the offered paw. The guard then brought him to her shoulder where he transferred over and stood staring at me, one paw clutching her ear for stability. He puffed out his little chest, resolute to follow my example in his own way, empowered by the Spirit of the pack he was now inclined to share with his own bears as king.

Compared to the tears and wails and uncertainty and grief I knew of him, I was proud of his conviction. He would grow into a strong King Bear if given the chance. It was not my place to interfere with the affairs of bears, but the curses in bear country had run rampant long enough. They needed a Mighty Hena to bite off the poisoned paw. I looked up at the guards one last time.

"Your Beta is a traitor," I declared, speaking of the first bear I met and challenged in the Great Cave.

I did not know his totem, as they called it, so I used the closest Mighty Hena equivalent. The bears knew who I spoke of because Elder Bear's lips slackened, clear eye holding me tight while the cloudy one went off somewhere far away. Her two apprentices dropped their jaws, stunned that I would make such a bold and shameless accusation so easily. The three guards rose with validation of their own suspicions, no matter how random. They glanced at one another, then looked back at me as if I were their own.

Maybe it was because I was well with the Spirit, overflowing in blessing, untainted by their politics, or too familiar with traitors myself, but it was blatantly obvious that the Beta was seduced by curses and filled with mal-intent. Whether they did not know, denied the truth, or could not act for one reason or another, I would protect My Cub by letting him know who his enemies were. The King Bear nodded, no longer afraid of the dark treachery lurking about bear country for he had dreamed with darkness, walked with shadow, and knew what it meant to take watch. Whatever My Cub did next was up to him. It was the last lesson I could give him.

To trust him as King Bear.

Runner and I then trotted through the royal guard and into the woods. We did not look back. We did not give pause for a new hunt had begun and I was determined to give My Cub a fighting chance.