The Quest Begins by Erin Hunter Page A

like she wants to sleep out here tonight,” Stella said, heading back to the den. “Let’s give her some peace.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with her?” Lusa asked.
    â€œI’m sure she’ll be fine,” Stella said. “If she were sick, the flat-faces would take her away and make her better.”
    â€œReally?” Lusa perked up. “They can do that?”
    â€œUnless they take her away and don’t bring her back,” Stella mused. “Then I’m not sure what happens.”
    Lusa shuffled her paws on the floor. “Has that happened to other bears?”
    â€œOnce in the time I’ve been here,” Stella said. “But that bear was very sick, and we all thought his spirit was ready to go into the trees.”
    â€œStop this nonsense,” said a deep voice behind her. Lusa dropped to all fours and turned to face her father. King was looking at Stella sternly.
    â€œThere’s nothing to make such a big fuss about,” King growled.
    â€œBut what about Mother?” Lusa asked. “Will the flat-faces make her better?”
    King shrugged, his fur rippling across his shoulders. “Who knows what the flat-faces will do? I don’t even know why they keep us here, let alone why they fix us when we’re sick. It’s no use trying to figure it out. Let’s wait and see.” He scratched his ear and lumbered away.
    Stella nudged Lusa gently with her nose. “Don’t worry, Lusa. Your mother is a strong bear. Maybe she just feels like sleeping in the open tonight—the way your father does.”
    Lusa glanced over at King. Even he wasn’t sleeping on the cold, muddy ground. He’d found a flattish boulder and was settling down on top of it, his paws hanging down on either side.
    â€œI hope she gets better soon,” Lusa said.
    â€œSpirits of the bears,” Stella murmured, gazing into the sky. “Make Ashia feel her normal self by morning.” She nudged Lusa again. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.”
    Lusa fidgeted all night, worrying about her mother and feeling the emptiness of the den without Ashia’s bulk to lean against. As soon as light started to creep across the Bowl, she scrambled to her paws, shook herself, and trotted out of the den. Ashia was still lying in the same position. It looked as if she hadn’t moved since the day before.
    Lusa didn’t know what to do. Nothing like this had happened in the Bowl in her lifetime. Why did bears get sick? How would Ashia get better? Her mother was like the boulders of the Mountains—always there, always the same. If she changed, it would be like the earth vanishing from under Lusa’s paws.
    Perhaps she’d feel better if she ate something. Lusa gathered some of the fruit the feeders had left for them and brought it over to her mother. “Mother?” she said, dropping the ripe berries beside her mother’s muzzle.
    â€œLusa,” Ashia whispered, pressing her paws to her belly. Relief flooded through Lusa as she saw that at least her mother recognized her. Maybe she was feeling better than last night.
    â€œMother, are you all right?” Lusa asked. She nosed the berries closer to Ashia. “I brought you some food.”
    Ashia made a groaning sound and turned her face into the dirt. Mud and snow were caked through her fur, but she made no move to shake them off. She didn’t even lift her head to sniff the fruit Lusa had brought. Lusa heard a rumbling sound from her mother’s belly. This wasn’t better. This might even be worse.
    Some of the feeders were leaning over the wall. Lusa scrambled over to them and stood on her hind legs, trying to get their attention. Couldn’t they see that her mother was sick?
    One of them chuckled a little and threw a piece of fruit to Lusa. Frustrated, the cub sat down again. Flat-faces never understood what you really wanted. She batted at the fruit, then abandoned it