by Erin Hunter
She cleared her slender throat. “Pack, I have something to say; and please don’t think I suspect any particular one of you of being responsible for the terrible things that have happened lately. That’s important.”
As their tails twitched and they gave hesitant nods, Alpha raised her head. “We thought our troubles were over and that the traitor had left our territory. But today Moon was attacked when she was outside of camp on a hunt. A dog she didn’t see pushed rocks on her from above, hurting her.” There were whimpers of dismay from the gathered Pack, and Alpha growled them into silence and continued. “Since we don’t know who did this, we can’t punish any dog. But we can try to keep ourselves safe. When any of us are outside the camp, we must stay in pairs. That will be the rule from now on. It’s only sensible for every dog to have another who can vouch for them. Not to keep an eye and a nose on them—I want to emphasize that—but simply to be relied on as a witness. I wish this wasn’t necessary.” Alpha shook her head sadly. “But as much as we all hoped it were otherwise, it seems our Pack’s troubles aren’t over. Not yet. But with caution and sense, we can prevent another dog from being harmed. Be careful, my Pack, and be safe. That’s all.”
Every dog padded away, looking reassured and somewhat mollified. Every dog, realized Storm with a sinking heart, except for Moon. There was fiery resentment in the hunter’s eyes as she slunk toward her den, and Storm hurried to catch up and walk at her side.
They walked together in silence till they reached the entrance to Moon’s den, then sat down. Hesitantly Breeze and Chase joined them, glancing at Storm for her approval. Storm nodded silently, though she could feel the hair on her hide rise with the force of anger emanating from Moon.
“You’re not happy, Moon.” Storm licked her chops, feeling like a fool as soon as the words were out. Of course she’s not happy! Her face is as dark as the Sky-Dogs before a thunderstorm.
Moon growled under her breath. “I respect Alpha, of course I do. I wouldn’t ever speak ill of her, but . . . Storm, what is she actually going to do about the traitor? We’re all supposed to watch each other—what use is that? It just makes every dog suspicious, and the bad dog isn’t stupid enough to make a move while it’s being watched!”
“It’s a difficult situation for Alpha,” began Breeze lamely. “I know she tries. . . .”
“She’s our Alpha! She’s there to do difficult things, make hard decisions!” Moon lay down, head on her paws, glowering at the forest. “The traitor targeted me, Storm. Those rocks were pushed down after I howled for help. The bad dog knew who I was, which means they wanted to hurt me!”
Storm swiveled an ear toward Moon and widened her eyes. “What, Moon? Say that again. They heard you howl, identified you, and then they loosened the rocks?”
“Loosened them, and shoved them down on me,” snapped Moon.
“So the bad dog knew it was you, specifically. You weren’t visible from atop the overhang—I had to lean out over the edge just to get a glimpse—so they must have recognized your voice.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Moon’s lip curled. “Between this, and framing me for prey-stealing—whoever the traitor is, they’ve got it in for me, Storm.”
“Moon, I know it must have been terrifying,” said Chase soothingly, “but the truth is, the whole Pack is being targeted. Maybe it’s just bad luck that you’ve had the worst experiences. No, don’t snarl at me like that! I’m just trying to make you feel better. It could honestly be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Moon subsided with a sigh, though the snarl still lingered on her lips. “Maybe,” she grunted.
Giving her a lick, Storm got to her paws and padded off, absorbed in thought. Maybe Chase is right, she thought. But it does seem like a nasty coincidence. Maybe, in Moon’s case, it’s more than simple bad luck. . . .
Her paws splashed in something cold and wet, and she gave a yelp of surprise. Preoccupied with the Pack’s dilemma, she hadn’t realized she’d paced as far as the pond. Storm blinked, then gazed down at the play of sunlight on the gentle ripples. As the water grew still again, her own reflection gazed back at her, troubled.
The dogs who had suffered at the paws of the traitor: Did they have anything in common? Storm wondered. Was there something particular about them that attracted the bad dog’s malice?
If she couldn’t work out the traitor’s motive, how could she possibly work out who it was?
And far more important, she thought with anguish: How can I even begin to figure out how to stop them?
How can I find the bad dog—before something even more tragic happens to the Pack?
CHAPTER SIX
Storm scrambled to her paws, filled with resolution. For once, I’m not a suspect. Alpha and Beta both trust me now—perhaps they’ll start listening to me. I bet Alpha hasn’t thought about who the bad dog is targeting. I have to bring it to her; maybe she’ll have noticed something else I’ve missed.
The Sun-Dog was loping down toward the tops of the trees that surrounded the camp, his light slanted and golden the way it was whenever evening drew near. Storm paused to stretch, enjoying the late warmth. It’s always good when the Sun-Dog begins to linger longer, when Ice Wind is finally long gone. It’s not all bad omens these days; we just have to get through this awful time with the Pack intact. We can’t lose any more dogs.
Storm let herself yawn widely, blinked, and caught sight of Twitch.
Her ears pricked up, and she trotted over to him. She liked their gentle, three-legged Third Dog; and didn’t every dog trust him? “Twitch, can I talk to you?”
He glanced over at her, his tail wagging in welcome. “What can I do for you, Storm?”
“I’m going to talk to Alpha. Will you come with me?” After all, Twitch was one of the other dogs most affected by the traitor’s attacks.
He nodded solemnly, his eyes warm. “Of course I will!”
Together they approached Alpha and Lucky’s den; Storm felt somehow stronger with Twitch at her side. He was such a levelheaded, kind dog, and she felt a sudden fierce need to protect him from the traitor. She had to protect every dog; this was her Pack, and a Pack Dog was what she was, right down to her claw-tips. I won’t let the bad dog win.
Alpha and Lucky were relaxing at the mouth of their den, but Storm could see the alert twitch of their ears, the narrow keenness of their eyes. They looked protective and anxious as the pups romped and played, and Storm missed their simple, fond joy in the pups’ antics—a carefree pleasure that she’d seen only the day before.
Curse that bad dog, Storm thought angrily.
Alpha and Lucky listened patiently as Storm talked about her certainty that there must be some logic behind which dogs the traitor targeted. They’re taking me more seriously because Twitch is here, she thought, and was glad she had asked him to come along.
When she had said her piece, Alpha licked her chops thoughtfully and gave her Beta a swift glance. Lucky nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“Storm, we share your worries,” said Alpha, frowning. “Somehow this situation is more frightening because we have no clues; we don’t know where to begin. But you seem to have given this a lot of thought, so tell me: Do you have any theories about the culprit?”
“I . . . I’m not sure,” sighed Storm, sitting back on her haunches. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I can’t think which of us would do these things. But I have thought about who it can’t be.”
“Go on,” Twitch encouraged her.
Storm took a deep breath. “Well, I think we need to look at which dogs the bad dog is targeting. There might be some reason for it we can’t see yet. For instance, Moon has been attacked, so it isn’t her—and there’s no way Thorn and Beetle would put their own Mother-Dog in such danger.” Or frame her for a theft she didn’t carry out, she thought inwardly, but it didn’t seem right to mention that aloud when it was Alpha who had punished Moon for it. Today’s incident with the rocks was proof enough.
“I
agree,” said Alpha, her expression inscrutable. “Are there any more?”
Storm nodded to the Third Dog. “Not Twitch, obviously; he was badly hurt when the prey was sabotaged. He wouldn’t do that to himself. Not either of you two,” she added in an embarrassed mumble, half glancing at Alpha and Lucky. “You wouldn’t hurt your own Pack.”
Alpha gave a soft laugh. “Don’t be ashamed to include us, Storm. You’re right, of course, we wouldn’t hurt our own Pack—but we have to consider every dog’s motives, just to be certain. Go on.”
“Breeze is out of the question; she was with your pups when the rabbit blood was scattered over the camp. And . . . there’s me. I haven’t any proof, but I know it isn’t me.” Storm raised her head with nervous defiance.
Alpha nodded thoughtfully, looking very serious. “It narrows it down a little, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” growled Storm. “But beyond that—I just don’t know. I can’t imagine any of the rest of our Packmates behaving this way. What possible reason would they have? I just wish we knew why all of this is happening. It seems like there must be some logic behind which dogs have been targeted.”
“But what could the connection be?” Lucky asked thoughtfully. “The dogs who have been hurt . . . besides Moon and Twitch, there was Whisper. . . .”
Twitch shuddered at the mention of the murdered dog, his eyes sad. “Bella was the worst affected when the prey pile was poisoned,” he remembered.
And then there’s me.
Storm’s stomach gave a sickening lurch. If specific dogs were being targeted, then she was one of them. Always, when something bad happened to the Pack, Storm had come under suspicion. Every single crime that had been committed was one it looked like Storm could have been responsible for; she’d always been alone, so she never had proof of where she had been and what she was doing.
And why would I? I don’t know when the attacks are going to happen; if I knew that, I’d be the bad dog myself. If I had a witness, I’d be in the clear.
She hesitated, unwilling to share this realization. You could see a dog being poisoned, or pelted with rocks—being turned into a suspect was just as hurtful, but it was invisible. What if the others didn’t agree?
Before she could speak again, Alpha was shaking her head doubtfully. “I agree that there must be some connection, but I don’t know what it could be. Whisper, Bella, Moon, Twitch . . . all these dogs came from different Packs, originally. They’re hunters and Patrol Dogs and scouts. Except for being part of this Pack, I don’t see what they have in common.”
Storm felt her shoulders droop sadly. “Neither do I,” she said. “I wish I did.”
“Don’t worry. And don’t ever feel like you can’t come to me with your thoughts, Storm,” Alpha told her gently but firmly. “We have to be able to talk about this, to discuss it, or we’ll never move any further forward. I think you’re right: We have to do our best to work out who else it can’t be. It’s the only way we’ll ever discover who it really is.”
Storm sagged with relief. Alpha and Lucky are taking me seriously. That has to be good. She shivered. I can’t bear the thought of finding out one of my Packmates did this—but we must find the bad dog.
Lucky was staring straight ahead, his yellow tail thumping in a slow rhythm. “It’s hard to take in,” he murmured. “Rake, Ruff, Woody, and Dart are long gone, just like Bella and Arrow. I doubt very much they’d come back to our territory just to do this, to hurt us. And the dogs who are still here . . . it’s not that I don’t take you seriously, Storm,” he added hurriedly, “but it’s a lot for any dog to contemplate. Little Sunshine, a killer? Or Daisy?” He licked his chops. “Bruno? He might be surly sometimes, but he has never been anything but loyal to the Pack. The same goes for Snap. Mickey—no, I just don’t believe he’s capable of it. Chase? I don’t know her as well as I know the others, but I’ve been Packmates with her long enough—and I know she’s a good dog, a good Pack Dog. I know it in my bones.”
“That’s the trouble,” sighed Alpha. “We only have our bones to go on, and that hasn’t helped us so far.”
Storm’s head dipped. Well, what had she expected? That Alpha or Beta would have instant, easy answers? Maybe deep down, she actually had thought that.
No. Be sensible, Storm, she scolded herself, and take this problem one bite at a time. She’d decided to talk to her Alpha, and she’d done it, and that had been the right thing to do. Now, at least, she knew she wasn’t the only dog gnawing over the mystery.
But she knew she couldn’t leave it like this; she couldn’t just drop all the responsibility at Alpha’s den mouth like an unwanted chunk of rabbit. As Storm padded away from the leaders’ den, she felt her muscles tense with determination.
I can’t just wait around, wondering if Alpha’s come to any conclusions. What if another dog gets hurt in the meantime? I need to take action, protect the Pack—even if that means nothing more than talking things over with my Packmates.
The dogs who had been targeted were the ones least likely to be guilty—so she should talk with them. There was a chance they’d seen something—something that was significant, but they didn’t realize it at the time. And it might be hard for dogs to think about the attacks—and the chance there might be more—but discussing it openly might actually make them just a little safer. They’d be on the alert—and that felt like the most useful thing Storm could do for them right now.
A dark-brown shape was heading for the camp border at the edge of the glade, about to vanish among the tree trunks. Storm gave a soft bark.
“Breeze! Wait.”
The brown dog turned to give Storm a quizzical look over her shoulder. “What is it, Storm? I’m supposed to meet Daisy to patrol.”
“I’ll be quick.” Storm swallowed. “It’s just—I need to talk to you. About the bad dog.”
Breeze’s brow furrowed. “The bad dog? Why would you want to talk to me about that?”
“I’m sure the traitor will strike again, Breeze. It’s awful to think about, but I believe we have to. It’s the only way to ensure that we might be ready for another attack.” Storm licked her jaws. “I’ve been trying to work out which dogs didn’t do these things. Right now, that’s easier than trying to imagine which dog is actually capable of them.”
“What’s your best guess at the moment, Storm?” Breeze asked. She sat back on her haunches, tilting her head curiously.
“I think we can eliminate the dogs who have been targeted . . . Twitch, Moon, Bella, and . . . well, clearly Whisper is out of the question.” Storm felt a stab of grief at the mention of poor Whisper, and she shivered. “And I know you were with the pups when the camp was polluted with that blood. But the trouble is, it could be any other dog.”
Breeze shuddered. “Sky-Dogs,” she whispered softly. “I can’t bear to think about it.”
“But we have to,” Storm pointed out. “And I know you observe the camp a lot, while you’re taking care of the pups, and—well, I suppose I’m asking if you’ve seen anything?”
“Like what?” Breeze twitched her ears forward, looking puzzled.
“That’s the trouble, I don’t know,” exclaimed Storm in frustration. “Just something unusual: maybe a dog who seemed to be in the wrong place . . . something that seemed normal at the time, but looking back it was . . . just not quite right. Out of character.”
“Oh. I do see what you’re nibbling at.” Breeze’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Truly, Storm? I can’t think of anything. There hasn’t been anything . . . well, strange that I’ve noticed around camp lately. No dogs behaving oddly or differently, nothing like that.”
“Oh,” sighed Storm. “Well, it was worth asking.”
“Of course it was,” Breeze told her. “And I’ll be even more watchful now, I promise. We all have to stay alert. If anything strange happens, I’ll tell you at once.”
Storm nodded, suddenly feeling unbearably tired. “Thanks, Breeze.”
“It’s no
thing. Now, why don’t you go to your den?” Breeze nuzzled Storm’s neck fondly and gave her ear a lick. “You’ve had a tough day. Maybe things will look clearer in the morning, after a good night’s sleep.”
“You’re probably right.” Storm touched noses with the gentle-eyed dog. “Good night. And thanks.”
Breeze padded off into the trees, and Storm trudged to her den. Her legs suddenly ached with weariness, and she sank gratefully onto her bedding. She expected to drop off instantly, but sleep evaded her like a dodging, darting squirrel.
Her mind clawed at the mystery of the bad dog, and her eyes kept flicking open. However much she tossed and turned, and dragged her bedding into new positions, she just could not drift into blissful unconsciousness.
What if it isn’t only one dog? she asked herself, even as she squeezed her eyes shut and willed sleep to come. Maybe there’s more than one traitor.
Could it really be one—or more—of my dearest friends?
Opening her eyes again, Storm stared miserably at the exposed roots that poked through her den wall. Daisy was such a sweet-natured dog, brave and kind. And she was small . . . not that size always mattered, if a dog could catch an enemy unawares.
Mickey was a big dog, but his mild nature made him an even less likely culprit than Daisy. Snap or Bruno? Snap was quick and cunning, and Bruno was certainly fierce and burly enough to take down most dogs. But despite her differences with both of them, Storm couldn’t believe it of either Snap or Bruno.
The least likely bad dog of all was Sunshine. She was little—but like Daisy, that didn’t have to matter. She still has teeth. Storm’s mind recoiled from the idea. Sunshine had always seemed so happy to be Omega; she was more content than any dog in the Pack, as if she’d found true meaning in her life.
But what if she wasn’t happy with it anymore? Could the little dog be simmering with resentment beneath it all? Had she secretly rebelled at her status, at having to make do with the last and smallest prey every night?
