“Now!” Third shouted as Stellan braced the dying Froya from behind. Jytte and Third both gave mighty grunts and shoved the arm into the socket. There was a popping noise.

“You did it!” Sylvia exclaimed. Tyro emitted a little yelp of joy as Sylvia pressed her ear slit to Froya’s chest and listened intently. “The heartbeats are growing stronger. Strong as a frog in late-stage thaw … strong as a frog in midsummer … strong …” At that moment Froya’s eyes opened.

She looked up at the three cub faces looming just above her own. Her eyes moved slowly from one to the other. Then she gasped as they settled on Third. “You!”

Third nodded slowly. “Yes, sister.”

“You helped me?” Third nodded again. “But why? Why shouldn’t you hate me?”

“I won’t hate! Hate is for Taaka. Not me.” Third took a deep breath, then whispered hoarsely, “I … I forgive you.” The words that moments before had been like slivers of ice in his throat seemed to melt as he spoke them.

Froya shook her head slowly in dismay. “How could you?” Third was unsure himself. Could he say I forgive you because I don’t ever want to become what you were?

But that would hardly be true forgiveness.

“You are a different cub now. The frogs told us how brave you were.”

“What does that matter when I turned on you, my own brother?”

“You had a monster for a mother. How would you know better?” Third replied.

“But you knew better, Third.”

Her body shuddered, and Stellan glimpsed the interior of her mind, which swirled with a barrage of horrific images of Taaka’s rages. He saw gaping wounds that were bleeding. A cub knocked senseless by her huge paw and left outside the den. Froya began to sob.

“You see, first Taaka came after them, bullied Jytte and Stellan. She bullied them and I did nothing, for they were not of my blood. And then she came for you, Third, and still I did nothing. But I knew that she eventually would come for me. I heard her talking to the Roguers and I turned to my only brother and he did nothing. There was no one to defend me. But somehow I got away from them. You can’t imagine how many cubs are being taken. I was one of the lucky ones. I joined a band of several cubs led by a strong young female—Lutta. We got far—all the way across the sea, hopping ice floe to ice floe, but they cornered us near the Firth of Grundensphyrr.”

“How did you ever get here when you were wounded?” Stellan asked.

Tyro gave a loud croak. The cubs turned toward him. “When Froya tried to drag Lutta from the battle, she got her halfway into a cave before she died. It was a glacial cave. And glacial caves lead to glacial tunnels and crevasses.”

“Is a crevasse underground like this bore?” Stellan asked, trying to understand the peculiar geography of this landscape.

“Not completely. Crevasses are cracks in the ice. One might be in a tunnel, but then suddenly the tunnel’s ceiling opens up—just a slot—through which you can see the sky. There’s a web of tunnels beneath these kingdoms that connect distant firths. If one can find one’s way, it’s quicker than crossing inlets, bays, or following coastal routes. The ice is often slick and the way can be very fast, faster than swimming or walking, but perhaps not flying. Yet who among us has wings?” Tyro looked about with his bulging eyes and emitted a series of gulps that the cubs realized was a frog’s manner of laughing. “Not I!” He double-gulped at this. It was clear that Tyro considered himself quite the wit.

Jytte was more than impatient with this creature’s so-called sense of humor. She needed to get him back on track. “We are searching for our father. We know that he came from the Firth of Uthermere. Do you know it?”

Stellan was actually happy that Jytte had not said the Den of Forever Frost. Since Grynda and the device in the cave, he was convinced that there must be spies in this country. The less said the better.

“Do we know Uthermere?” Tyro boomed. “Is a frog green or celadon or possibly azure? It’s one of our favorite places to thaw.”

“Could you direct us there by way of the tunnels and the crevasses?” Third asked eagerly.

“Of course!” Tyro began talking very fast. “You depart from here and head slightly east, but then you must turn west, bear north then angle south and …” Tyro was talking so fast the words were like a blur in the cub’s ear.

“Wait! Wait! That’s too fast,” Stellan said. “Do you have a map?”

“Map?” Sylvia and Tyro both looked at each other in confusion.

“You know, it’s … a … a …” Jytte began to speak but was not sure exactly how to describe a map to these creatures. Where would they have ever seen one?

Stellan interrupted his sister. “It’s a drawing of how to get someplace, from one part of land to another. The sky with the stars is one kind of map. But if we’re underground, we can’t see the stars, or the land for that matter.”

“Oh, indeed!” Tyro said. “Aha!” His eyes became quite bulbous now as the meaning of the word map dawned on him. He glanced at Sylvia, whose eyes had grown equally plump as she sensed what a map was.

“What they need—would you not agree, Sylvia?—is a frost spider.”

“Exactly.”

“Frost spider? Third repeated. “How can a spider help us?”

Sylvia appeared to shrug. “It’s not all about size, you know. Frost spiders know this underground world better than any creature, and they will know how to guide you.”

But Third, of course, had merely spoken what Stellan and Jytte were thinking. How could a creature as tiny as a spider guide them? Stellan was fearful that they might accidentally step on such a minuscule guide and squash it.

“They know the way. They are your living map as good as the stars. They can guide you,” Tyro said.

Jytte tried to quell her growing excitement. If these strange spiders could actually guide them to her father, and if they could do it by traveling underground and dodge Roguer bears … Dare she hope? “But will they agree to guide us?” Jytte asked.

“Oh yes, they are proud of their skills. Proud of their silk. You see, in their webs they spin designs, rather like these drawings you spoke of—the maps of the stars and the land. They will spin you the silk and weave you a picture. They are industrious little creatures. Just start following this branch of the tunnel and within a short time you will find one who will be happy to guide you.”

Jytte and Stellan both felt a rush of anticipation. If the spiders could actually spin them a map, there might be a way for them to get to Uthermere without being intercepted by any Roguer bears.

“There will be more than one, really, Tyro,” Sylvia corrected him.

“Oh yes. True. The first spider spins a web that you can follow for a distance. Then when you come to the end of that course, there will be another spider who can take up the task. They’re very trustworthy and will warn you of dangers. Remember, spiders have eight eyes. All-seeing!”

“What dangers?” Stellan asked, trying to imagine what kinds of dangers could be lurking in this tunnel.

“Well,” Sylvia said slowly, “there is another creature in the tunnels that is quite vicious.” Sylvia seemed to be hesitating.

“Come on,” Jytte urged. “Out with it. Tell us. We’ve encountered vicious creatures before.”

“Frost vipers.” She clamped her bulgy eyes closed as she said the words. It was almost as if it pained her to name them. “They are deadly to milk creatures but not to us.”

“And these frost spiders can warn us of the vipers?” Third asked.

“Yes. The spiders have exceptional hearing. They can detect a slither. That is what they call a mass of the frost vipers—a slither. There can be as many as one thousand vipers in a single slither.”

“How could we ever escape that?” Stellan gasped, incredulous.

“It’s not the slither that is the problem. But if a single viper breaks away, that snake becomes extremely vicious. Its venom becomes even more toxic. An animal bitten by that one viper dies within seconds.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Sylvia asked.

“Yes,” the three cubs replied at once.

“I want to go too,” Froya said softly. Jytte looked at the cub, startled. Her arm restored to its proper position looked normal, but was she strong enough to go? Would she slow them down? They couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Why do you want to go?” Jytte asked. “He’s not your father.”

“I want to be among good bears. You are good bears. Your father must be a good bear, as was your mum, Svenna.” There was a quiet dignity to her words. An unshakable yet simple honesty.

Third had many of the same questions as Jytte. Was it really fair of him to endanger their mission? But then he thought about what Sylvia had told them, how Froya put her own life at risk to protect the other cubs. For his forgiveness to be genuine, he needed to give her a second chance.

“Of course, Froya, you may come. But do you feel strong enough?” Third asked.

“I am strong enough.”

Jytte and Stellan exchanged nervous glances.

“I’m not sure if this is the best idea,” Stellan said. “You were badly injured, Froya. How do you know if you’ll be able to keep up with us?”

Froya tried to stand straight. Her arm still ached, but she willed herself not to hold it as if she were protecting that shoulder again. She must appear strong and fit and ready to be of help.

“I … I don’t want to be left behind. You have one another. But … but … who do I have?” The guard hairs on her muzzle seemed to quiver.

“Me,” Third said firmly. “You have me.” He then turned to Stellan and Jytte. “If you insist on leaving Froya, I’ll stay. She is my sister. My blood.”

Jytte’s eyes opened wide. “Really, Third?”

“Really, Jytte,” Third replied.

“Then we all go,” said Stellan said firmly, without a second’s hesitation.

“Thank you.” Froya spoke softly.

The frogs had not said a word during this exchange. In fact, they seemed to be holding their breath. A large bubble of air issued from Tyro’s mouth.

“Well now, cubs. Follow me and I shall introduce you to your first guide. Her home web is just around the next bend.”