Danger lies within, p.5
Bear Rescue, page 5

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Copyright
First published in the United Kingdom by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2026
Published in this ebook edition in 2026
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Text copyright © Hannah Gold 2026
Illustrations copyright © Levi Pinfold 2021, 2023 and 2025
Cover illustrations copyright © Levi Pinfold 2026
Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2026
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Source ISBN: 9780008792435
Ebook Edition © February 2026 ISBN: 9780008792480
Version: 2025-11-21
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Dedication
For Chris, my Bear
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
Books by Hannah Gold
About the Publisher
The day August Wood went missing was anything but ordinary.
For a start, it was extraordinarily hot for an Arctic spring. At this time of year, temperatures usually peaked around minus three, but even before breakfast the sky was a balmy blue – perfect weather for April, August’s big sister, to bake a cake for their father’s birthday.
It wasn’t technically his birthday today – that date had passed earlier in the week. But since Dad had been away on a research trip they had planned something special for this Saturday. An event that had been circled on the family calendar for months.
‘Time to get up!’ April pulled on her polar bear sweater and cartwheeled into the kitchen.
April wasn’t the most talented of chefs, but what she lacked in ability, she made up for in imagination. A few spills and splats later, she had conjured up a three-tiered sponge with a thick, gooey spreading of peanut butter to glue the layers together. The cake was decorated with a generous sprinkling of marshmallows and a few crunched-up aniseed sweets. A strange topping, but the aniseed treats were Dad’s favourite and April thought it best to include them.
‘Perfect!’ April licked the wooden spoon clean with a secret smile on her face. ‘Just perfect.’
The fact that April was talking to herself was not the least bit odd – at least not to her, anyway – because April herself was a little unusual. It wasn’t just that she was small for her age, or that her hair rarely saw a brush, or even because of her remarkable affinity with animals.
It was because April lived on an island in the middle of the Arctic, not far from the North Pole.
The place was called Svalbard and, to April, it was the closest thing to magic on earth. It was a land of snow, northern lights, frozen fjords and thousand-year-old glaciers. A place so remote and wild that there were more polar bears than there were humans. And it was so far north that in winter the sun never rose and in summer it never set!
April and her family had lived in their Arctic home for just over a year. For some people it might be a rather curious place to live, but for April it made perfect sense, especially with Dad’s job. He was a scientist and measured things like sea levels and air temperatures to monitor how the weather was changing in this part of the world. He liked cups of warm, milky tea, reading the newspaper and listening to Mozart on his record player very loudly. (Sometimes too loudly, in April’s opinion.) Once upon a time, it had just been April and her dad, but now they happily shared their lives with Dad’s girlfriend, Maria, a teacher at Svalbard’s only primary school; her baby brother, August; and a beautiful silver-furred husky called Blaze.
The other member of April’s family was, of course, Bear – a magnificent, wild polar bear with eyes the colour of warm chocolate brownies, a nose that could sniff out danger and a bond with April that travelled through the ends of time. Being best friends with a wild polar bear might seem terrifying, but for April her connection with Bear was the purest and most special thing in her life. It had all started when April had rescued a starving, lonely, stranded Bear from the nearby Bear Island and singlehandedly returned him to his home in Svalbard.
She had saved his life.
And, in return, he had saved hers.
‘I hope Dad will like it,’ April said as she regarded her lopsided creation.
By now, the rest of her family had surfaced. Dad was sitting at his desk in the living room, his face buried in a pile of research papers, whilst Maria was taking a shower.
‘August,’ April asked, ‘do you think he’ll like it?’
August was a cheerful baby, always ready with a smile, but at nine months old he was not yet able to speak. At least, no words that any human could interpret. In fact, the only creature who could understand August was Blaze. The pair of them shared the same glacier-blue eyes and alert, watchful presence. Husky and baby had even developed a secret language that seemed to consist of gurgles, barks, whines and the occasional howl.
‘Well?’ April was beginning to worry that the cake was a tad sweet. Perhaps adding the fudge sauce at the last minute had been a mistake?
August burbled merrily, playing with the husky’s thick tail. Blaze, not troubled at all by his young charge, barked in agreement.
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ April lowered her voice. ‘You do know what today is, don’t you?’
For Dad’s party, April’s good friend, Hedda, had invited them all to her country cabin in a valley a few hours’ drive away by snowmobile. April called it the ‘secret valley’ – a hidden pocket of wilderness, hugged by giant snowy mountains and so far from civilisation that it felt as though it belonged in a fairy tale. This made it the ideal spot to throw a birthday party, play loud music and not worry about grumpy neighbours. But, more than that, it was the perfect place to do something truly special.
Because, apart from an excess of peanut butter, there was one other secret ingredient hidden inside the cake.
An engagement ring.
‘Under no circumstances,’ Dad had told April the day before, as they packed the snowmobile trailer, ‘must you lose the ring.’
‘Dad!’ April groaned. It wasn’t the first time he’d said this. ‘You can trust me!’
April wasn’t a clumsy person – at least not with things anyway. Once or twice, she had admittedly put her own life in danger, but this was different. She knew how much this meant to Dad. He’d been planning the engagement for ages and had commissioned the ring from a mainland jeweller, with his and Maria’s initials engraved on to the silver band.
‘I’ve got the perfect hiding place!’ April reassured her father. ‘It’s safe with me.’
‘And don’t forget our secret signal!’ Dad tugged his earlobe in an exaggerated gesture. ‘That’s when you know to . . .’
‘Yes, yes!’ April cut in, already bubbling with excitement at the thought of the big moment.
Because, whilst Dad had t rusted her with the safekeeping of the ring, he didn’t know exactly where she’d hidden it. That was her secret alone. He might be brilliant at deciphering weather charts, but he lacked the drama and verve that, in April’s opinion, a wedding proposal warranted. Which is how she had come up with the plan of hiding the engagement ring inside the cake, tucking it just beneath a smattering of aniseed sweets. Safely sealed in a red velvet drawstring bag, there was no chance of anyone accidentally choking on it. When the time came, Dad would give their secret ear-tug signal and April would know to guide him to the exact slice that hid the ring.
The cake had been placed inside a cake tin and the tin placed inside a secure storage box. Hedda, who was the only other person who knew about the hidden ring, had popped around a few minutes earlier on her sled to pick it up and take it directly to the cabin so it would be awaiting everyone on arrival.
What could possibly go wrong?
‘Blast this machine!’ Dad raked a hand through his hair for the third time in less than a minute. ‘Why won’t it start?’
All morning, he had been on edge – flustered when Blaze had knocked over his pot of tea, yelping when he stubbed his toe on the doorframe and then panicking when he thought he’d mislaid his watch. If Maria hadn’t been so focused on getting August ready for the trip, she might have noticed how uncharacteristically agitated he was.
Dad turned the ignition again, but the vehicle spluttered and coughed and then refused to turn on at all, no matter how hard Dad pleaded with it.
‘Edmund,’ Maria said, as Dad was about to pull his hair out. ‘Maybe we should hold the party here instead?’
‘No!’ Dad looked at her aghast.
Maria tightened her grip round August as he was beginning to squirm in her arms. He had recently started crawling and needed a watchful eye on him at all times.
‘If we can’t take the snowmobile, then what do you suggest we do?’ she asked.
April coughed discreetly. ‘We could go by husky?’
‘Husky?’ Dad gulped. Her father was someone who preferred soft, cosy cushions, a worn armchair and a pair of fleece pyjamas.
He was nowhere near as comfortable on a dog sled as his intrepid daughter. ‘How?’
‘I can cycle to Hedda’s dog yard, pick up the sled and bring the huskies back here,’ April suggested. ‘A team of fourteen dogs should be able to make it there in no time.’
April, who last year had taken part in Svalbard’s first ever long-distance dog-sled race, knew a few things about travelling by husky. Blaze would lead the team, April would mush (which means directing the team of dogs), August would be strapped to Maria and all Dad had to do was not fall off. He checked his watch and, with a reluctant nod, agreed.
‘Husky it is.’
It wasn’t long before April had harnessed the team of huskies and they had embarked on the journey to Hedda’s country cabin. Unlike her father, April loved nothing more than venturing out into the Arctic tundra on the back of a dog sled. There was something so pure and untouched about the landscape. And with the silent padding of the dogs’ paws on the snow, the rasping of their breath and the sensation of being completely at one with her surroundings, it felt as though she were gliding through a dreamlike world: vast, quiet and breathtakingly beautiful.
The Arctic was the best, most special place on earth.
Dad and April stood on the rear runners of the sled, whilst Maria and August sat on the front section, wrapped up in several blankets and at least three hot-water bottles. Every so often, April heard August’s happy burbles as he spotted the passing wildlife – grazing reindeer, a flock of low-flying puffins, even a glimpse of some beluga whales in the fjord. He loved sledding almost as much as she did, especially with his favourite blue bunny tucked under his chin.
There were no roads in Svalbard and so April guided the husky team by visual landmarks – a distinctive glacier, the fjord shoreline, an old deserted cabin. Just under three hours later, she pointed to a familiar sharp-toothed mountain that marked the entrance to the secret valley.
‘We’re here!’
As ever, the secret valley took April’s breath away. Sheltered on three sides by steep, impressive mountains, the valley was the shape of a teardrop and lay covered in a frosting of snow. The quiet wrapped round April like a soft blanket and she had the sensation that she wasn’t quite on Earth at all, but on some faraway planet.
‘Whoa!’ She called for the huskies to slow down, bringing the sled to a halt about thirty metres from Hedda’s cabin. As Dad clambered off, rubbing the small of his back, his shoulders let go of the tension they’d been holding all journey.
‘We made it,’ he said, nodding gratefully to his daughter. ‘And only forty-five minutes behind schedule.’
Nestled in the snow, Hedda’s country cabin looked as if it had been there forever – a simple, one-storey structure built from thick wooden beams, with a slate roof that shimmered under the bright sun. Once upon a time, the cabin had been a base for trappers who used to live in these parts to hunt animals like seals, foxes, even polar bears. Luckily, these days it had a far friendlier vibe.
Standing in the sheltered porch, Hedda lifted a hand in greeting.
‘Hello there!’
Somewhere in her late sixties, she was the owner of a dog yard and had lived in Svalbard all her life. As Dad helped Maria and August off the sled, Hedda nodded discreetly to inside the cabin, where the cake tin sat on a rustic wooden table. April hadn’t been worried – she trusted Hedda with her life – but it was a relief to see the cake had arrived here safely.
‘And how is the little one?’ Hedda’s face, which was normally as hard and impassive as an Arctic glacier, softened at the sight of August. Although, upon seeing Hedda, August burst into uncontrollable tears.
‘It’s not you,’ Maria hurried to reassure Hedda. ‘We lost his bunny en route – the one you got him after he was born. By the time I realised, it was too late to turn back.’
As Maria tried to console August, Dad’s close chum, Jurgen, emerged from the cabin. He was holding a large wrapped gift and practically jumping up and down with excitement. Behind him, was April’s dearest friend, Tör, with his blue eyes and mischievous smile. Only a handful of years older than herself, she had first met Tör on the cargo ship that had transported her and her dad to Bear Island a few years ago.
April Wood is here!’ Tör flashed a cheeky grin as he high-fived his friend. ‘Now the adventure can begin.’
April gave August a quick cuddle – she hated seeing him cry – and then, with Tör’s help, she covered the sled with tarpaulin and unharnessed and fed the huskies. They then joined the rest of the group who, given the mild day, had opted to sit outside on some rugs. Although mild by Arctic standards, the weather was still just below freezing so everyone was dressed up in thick woollen jumpers, waterproof trousers and bobble hats.
One creature born and bred for the cold weather was the silver-furred Blaze. Having wolfed down his kibble, he headed straight over to August, who was still upset about the loss of his bunny. The husky pressed his wet nose to August’s flushed face in an attempt to soothe him.
A twenty-five-kilo sled dog might not be your typical babysitter, but for the past nine months Blaze had been August’s best friend and gentle guardian. April watched the pair of them with a warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, loving how Blaze was instantly able to calm August down.
‘The best of friends,’ Maria said, catching April’s eye. ‘I believe this dog would do anything for August. Don’t you agree, Edmund?’
‘What’s that?’ Dad muttered. ‘Oh yes, Blaze. Absolutely.’
Although Dad had relaxed since arriving in the secret valley, he was still distracted and kept glancing at his watch every few minutes. He had a schedule for today and was determined to stick to it at all costs.
‘I don’t know about everyone else,’ he said in a loud voice, ‘but I’m famished after that sled ride.’
‘A timely reminder,’ Jurgen said, getting the hint. ‘Let us eat!’
For lunch, Jurgen (a far more accomplished chef than April) had prepared open sandwiches made from thick rye bread, jars of pickled vegetables, hard-boiled eggs, a thermos of vegetable soup and some homemade cardamom buns sprinkled with tiny crystals of pearl sugar.
