The Broken Path

by Erin Hunter

  He found himself holding his breath. Don’t be foolish, Lick.

  At last her head dropped and she slunk a pace backward.

  “I don’t want to challenge Alpha,” she muttered.

  Lucky could almost feel the sigh of relief that went around the whole Pack, and Sunshine gave another tiny whimper as the tension was released. Lick crouched low and backed off farther from Fiery and their leader, then crept across to Lucky and lowered her head to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Lucky licked his jaws, staring at her. The fear in his belly was hardening into rage now, and he found he couldn’t speak. Alpha had a right to punish her now, and Lucky wasn’t even sure he wanted to defend her. His fur prickled as Alpha stepped forward, but he said nothing. He couldn’t intervene.

  “You.” Alpha’s snarl was savage as he stalked up to Lick, so close his bared teeth almost touched her quivering nose. “You show me nothing but insolence and insubordination. You need a lesson—”

  “Wait.”

  Every dog looked up at Fiery’s low bark. The huge dog had turned to face his leader. His head was high, his paws square on the hard floor. A tremor of nerves went through Lucky.

  “Alpha.” Fiery’s voice was clear and steady. “In sight and hearing and smell of the Pack, I challenge you for their leadership.”

  Every dog heard Alpha’s indrawn breath of shock, but no dog could move. In the ominous silence, the dog-wolf drew himself up, his muscles bunching and his stiff legs quivering. He oozed so much rage and disbelief, Lucky could almost smell it.

  Dart’s jaw was open as she stared at Fiery. Whine wore an expression that was half surprise, half vicious curiosity. Beetle and Thorn pressed instinctively close to Moon’s sides; she herself watched her mate with a steady, trusting gaze. Bruno and Mickey exchanged stunned glances, but even Sunshine made no sound; she pressed herself quivering against the floor, silky ears flopped over her eyes.

  Lucky’s breath was caught in his throat. Why is Fiery doing this?

  Fiery turned slowly, watching each member of the Pack. “I respect Alpha,” he said. “He has led us well and kept us together, in good times and bad. But I believe the Big Growl changed things. Our world has turned upside down, and I don’t think Alpha can cope anymore. He has been hesitant; he has failed to make decisions. And”—Fiery shot a look at Mickey and Bruno—“his attitude to the Leashed Dogs is not helping. He scorns them instead of valuing the skills they do have, and he makes no attempt to hide his dislike for Lick. His attitude is beginning to cause conflict in the Pack.” Fiery met Moon’s eyes. “While I know and respect what he has done as our Alpha, I believe I would be the better leader now—the stronger leader. That’s why I challenge him.”

  Alpha’s fur bristled all over his body. Low in his throat he gave a menacing growl.

  Still no dog spoke. Lucky felt as if the air itself was trembling. Beside Moon, Beetle crouched, looking as fearful as if he were a half-weaned pup again; Thorn, on the other paw, wore a bright, hopeful look. Martha gave Sunshine a quick, reassuring lick, then nuzzled the frightened Daisy.

  At last Sweet stepped gracefully forward. She licked her slender muzzle hesitantly, but when she spoke her voice was clear and steady.

  “Hear me, Packmates. Fiery the hunter challenges Alpha for the leadership of this Pack.” She glanced at Moon, looking suddenly hesitant, and Lucky wondered if she had ever had to make this declaration before. She seemed to stumble over the unfamiliar words. “Such a challenge may not be refused, and . . . and it may not be withdrawn. Fiery and Alpha will meet in combat . . . so that Alpha may defend his position by strength.”

  “And keep it by strength,” snarled Alpha.

  Sweet did not respond to that. She tilted her elegant head. “Moon, come forward.”

  Beetle and Thorn shot anxious glances at their Mother-Dog, but Moon rose immediately and padded forward to stand at Fiery’s side.

  To Lucky’s surprise, Sweet sounded gentle and calm—like the dog he’d first met in the Trap House, not the savage Beta he had come to know recently. “Moon,” she declared. “As Fiery’s mate, you have the right now to challenge me for the position of Beta. Do you wish to do so?”

  Moon turned her head to give Fiery an affectionate lick on his muscular shoulder. As the mates’ eyes met, Lucky looked from one to the other, shocked.

  Moon knew! he realized. She knew Fiery was going to challenge Alpha—they must have discussed it.

  A sense of dread rippled through his fur. I don’t want either of them to be hurt.

  To his surprise and relief, Moon dipped her head. “No, Sweet,” she said quietly. “Should Fiery win the challenge, I will accept you as his Beta.”

  “It will not be something you have to accept,” growled Alpha. “Fiery will not win.”

  Moon ignored him, her gaze fixed on Sweet. “I have no wish to take your place in the Pack.”

  Sweet gave a solemn nod. Both she and Moon looked perfectly calm, though Lucky’s head whirled. His heart leaped in his chest at the thought of Fiery replacing the half wolf. How different Pack life would be with the brave and noble Fiery in command. Lucky blinked as a thought occurred to him. If Fiery won this fight, then Alpha would revert to his real dog-name.

  Lucky realized he didn’t even know what that was.

  But what if Fiery fails? What if . . .

  “Hear me again, Packmates.” Sweet’s commanding voice rang clearly into the silence. “Moon declines to challenge me, and I will remain your Beta. Fiery and Alpha will contest the leadership; according to the law of the Sky-Dogs, the battle may end only in full submission, or death.”

  Lucky’s heart thudded against his rib cage. It was just as he’d feared.

  But Sweet hadn’t finished. “The fight will take place tonight, under the gaze of the Moon-Dog. Until then, Alpha remains our leader and his will is to be obeyed.” She looked around the Pack, daring any of them to challenge her.

  “Of course,” agreed Fiery, taking a pace back and dipping his head to Sweet. The other Wild Dogs growled and whined their agreement, but the Leashed Dogs looked to Lucky in bewilderment.

  “I don’t understand,” whined Daisy.

  “Lucky,” whispered Bella, “what do we do now?”

  He wasn’t sure. He opened his jaws to answer her, but Alpha’s growl was right at his ear. He turned, shocked, to look straight into the half wolf’s eyes.

  “What do you do?” Alpha snarled. “You, Lucky, will take your Fierce Dog friend to the forest. You will hunt with her. And you will both pray to the Spirit Dogs that you catch plenty of prey, because you will answer to me on your return—as you will be doing for a very long time, because I will remain Alpha of this Pack.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Hunters, come with me,” Fiery’s voice rang out, strong and confident. “As Alpha commands, that now includes Lick.” He gave the young Fierce Dog a swift glance, but Lucky could not read his expression. He could only follow Fiery outside, feeling Lick close at his hindquarters. Out on the hardstone track, the dogs broke into a steady run.

  Lucky raced with them, his mind swirling. He couldn’t believe that Fiery had challenged Alpha’s leadership, but the prospect of seeing Alpha ground beneath Fiery’s claws gave him a small thrill of pleasure—which immediately made him cringe with shame. I know Alpha’s been a bully—is a bully—but if I enjoy his defeat, what does that make me?

  “I’m sorry, Lucky.” He could feel Lick’s panting breath on his flank. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry,” he growled. “Just keep up.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  “No, it isn’t.” At least, not completely, thought Lucky. “Fiery’s challenge has been a long time coming, I think.”

  “But if I hadn’t lost my temper,” she panted, “if I hadn’t provoked Alpha, Fiery wouldn’t have challenged him. Not right now. And it’s not a good ti—”

  “I said, don’t worry!” He couldn’
t help snapping at Lick. It was true that her behavior had brought everything to a head. And in a way that was good. But she had no business attacking Alpha. She confirmed every dog’s fears about her!

  There was still no sign of life in the deserted longpaw houses, and Lucky had almost stopped noticing the corpses in the streets, though Bruno and Mickey still flinched at the sight of them. As the dogs left the settlement behind and the forest drew closer, Fiery slowed to a confident walk, the others behind him. He has so much sense, thought Lucky. He’s properly cautious, but he isn’t afraid of Terror. Every dog is alert and focused—under his leadership, they are calm. . . .

  And he was, too, he realized, his fury at Lick beginning to fade. “What in the name of the Earth-Dog made you do it?” he sighed at last, falling back until he was walking at Lick’s side. “Couldn’t you see that Alpha was trying to goad you? You did exactly what he wanted.”

  Lick bowed her head in shame. “I know that now, Lucky. I really am sorry. I don’t know what happened. I should have controlled myself, but . . . I just couldn’t.”

  “Lick, you’ve got to learn,” he sighed. “You’re responsible for your own actions—not your blood, nor your family! Please don’t prove Alpha right.”

  “I’ll try,” she whined.

  “You’ve chosen to stay with this Pack,” he went on. “That means you’ve left your Fierce Dog family behind. With us you’ll be fed, you’ll be looked after, but you’re—well, you’re the Alpha of your own life. You have to be master of yourself, of your instincts.”

  “I thought we should follow our instincts,” she said as she trudged.

  “But you can’t let them control you,” he told her. “It isn’t easy, but you have to learn. You have to stay calm when you’re challenged.”

  “Yes, Lucky.” She looked away toward the meadow where the rest of the Pack was already heading into the trees.

  “Come on. We’re falling behind.” Lucky nudged her, and they broke into a run through long grass that tickled their snouts.

  She seems to be listening to me, but how can I really tell? Lucky had a sudden image in his head of Lick playing secretly with her brother Fang. She’d looked so happy, so mischievous. And the way she’d talked about Mickey, and his conflicted loyalties . . . Had she really left her blood family behind? Maybe not entirely.

  All the dogs pricked their ears as they passed the first trees and padded farther into the dimness of the forest. Birds fluttered in the branches and they could hear the rustle of insects and tiny creatures in the leaves beneath their paws, but every dog was listening for something more than prey: a threatening growl, or the thunder of paws. So far there was nothing, but Lucky knew they couldn’t let their guard down for even an instant.

  Snap was at Fiery’s side as the big dog led them on. “I want you to know you’ve got my support tonight,” she growled. “I’d like to see you as Alpha.”

  Mickey joined in with a low bark. “Me too.”

  Fiery only grunted thoughtfully, but Bruno gave a warning woof. “I agree, but we’re still a Pack. Whoever wins the challenge should have every dog’s support.”

  “You’re right, Bruno,” said Fiery, nodding. “That was well said. But thank you, anyway, all of you.”

  He fell silent again, and Lucky wondered what was going through his head. Was he planning for tonight’s challenge, or focusing entirely on the hunt and on the threat of Terror? Surely he must be at least a little anxious. And that must affect his concentration.

  “Perhaps we should spread out,” suggested Mickey.

  “Yes,” said Fiery, pricking his ears. “Spread out in a line—flank-to-flank, not nose-to-tail. Stay a few paces away, but don’t lose sight of one another. And keep your noses sharp.”

  Lucky was glad Fiery was concentrating on the job at paw, but his command to be alert for scents was easier said than done. In among the trees the earth was still damp from the previous day’s rain. Many scents were mingled, and some must have been washed away, but at least the Sun-Dog, much higher in the sky now, was pushing light through the leaves and warming the ground. That made the scents clearer with each passing moment.

  Nose to the ground, Lucky didn’t see Lick until she blundered across his path. He bumped hard into her and she jumped.

  “There’s something up there!” she whispered. She stared up into the branches. “Listen . . .”

  Lucky strained his ears and tilted his head, but all he could hear was birdsong and the flutter of wings. He gave a low, exasperated whine.

  “See!” she exclaimed, pointing with her muzzle. “There!”

  Above them perched a huge, black bird, its head cocked to stare down at them before preening its glossy feathers. It knew as well as he did, Lucky thought, that it was perfectly safe up there.

  “You won’t catch that unless it flies to the ground, Lick!”

  “But it’s alone. Right there in front of us!”

  “Oh, for the Forest-Dog’s sake, move on,” Lucky growled. “Unless you’re planning to climb that tree. Or fly!”

  “I’ve heard sharpclaws can do it,” grumbled Lick.

  “Yes, I’ve seen sharpclaws hunt in trees, in the city, but we can’t. They’re different from us. Come on!”

  He trotted off, and heard Lick reluctantly follow him, her pawsteps hesitant. “So there were sharpclaws in the city. You’ve never told me anything about it before,” she said. “What was it like? Was it like the place we’ve made camp?”

  “A little, I suppose. Lots of hardstone paths and longpaw houses. But it was much bigger. So much bigger, it’s hard to describe. And it had some houses made all of clear-stone, from top to bottom.”

  “Clear-stone houses?” Lick gaped. “But couldn’t hunters see inside, then?”

  “Well, yes. But that was how they were meant to be. Longpaws hunted in the clear-stone buildings, and the things they hunted were right there for them to see.”

  “Weird,” muttered Lick.

  “It’s hard to explain. And there were lots of Food Houses. And so many longpaws.” Lucky licked his lips. “Kind longpaws, who would share their prey.”

  “I like the sound of that,” said Lick wistfully.

  “Well, they weren’t all kind,” added Lucky, picking his way through the dry leaves. “Some wouldn’t share, and would rather kick a dog. And there were foxes—nasty things—and plenty of sharpclaws who’d scratch your nose if you even looked at them. But it was a good place to live.”

  “You miss it.” Lick nuzzled him.

  “I suppose I do, a bit.” Lucky shook himself. “But that was a different time in my life. I’m a Wild Dog now.”

  Lick snapped idly at a fly that buzzed at her ear. “Would you go back? If you got the chance?”

  Lucky was silent for a moment. “No,” he said at last. “Something tells me—something inside—that I’ll never be a City Dog again.”

  Lick gulped the fly and licked her chops. “Oh. Well, if you feel like that, I’m sure it’s true.”

  “It’s not just a feeling.” Lucky sighed, feeling a small jolt of regret. “The fact is, my city doesn’t exist anymore. I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.”

  “But you don’t want to,” Lick whined happily. “And I’m glad. I like having you in the Pack.”

  But then, you’ve never known things any other way, thought Lucky.

  A little to their right, Fiery gave a growl, and Lucky paused, back on alert. He slunk low through the grass toward Fiery, Lick behind him, and the others creeping carefully from the other direction. A breeze whispered through the trees, stirring a few dead leaves underpaw, and every dog fell silent.

  “What is it?” Lucky murmured to Fiery.

  “I’m not sure,” growled the big dog.

  Lucky listened hard and tried to smell the air. There were definitely sounds echoing between the trees; it was as if there were creatures moving around just ahead of them—but he couldn’t smell any unfamiliar dogs.

  “Smell
s like . . . loudcages,” he whined, his fur prickling. “But it’s very faint.”

  Fiery pricked an ear and turned his head. “Maybe there are longpaws in the forest?”

  Lucky trembled. Longpaws? Here? I hope not! The longpaws they had encountered since the Big Growl had been anything but kind and friendly.

  “Stay down,” muttered Snap. “We’d better not move until we’re sure.”

  “And no running to the longpaws,” growled Fiery to Mickey and Bruno.

  “Of course not,” whispered Bruno, sounding a little insulted.

  “Just making sure. Now, hush!”

  Lucky shivered as he lay low, thistles pricking at his belly and weeds tickling his nostrils. Beside him he could just hear Lick’s nervous breathing, but she was keeping still. Prove to me how calm you can be, Lick.

  A crash of undergrowth, a shower of leaves, and there they were—longpaws, directly ahead! It was those yellow-furred ones again, Lucky realized with a stab of fear. Glossy, yellow hides, black faces without eyes or mouths—and they were carrying those frightening metal sticks, the ones they used to poke and prod at Earth-Dog. What are they doing here? Did they follow us?

  Lucky heard a high, terrified whimper close to him. Lick! Of course, she had never seen a longpaw at all—never mind these strange yellow monsters. Lucky risked wriggling closer to her, and nuzzled her fur reassuringly.

  “They’re not friendly,” she whispered to him. “Can’t you smell the aggression? They’re not kind, the way you said. They’re like—like Fierce Dogs, looking for a fight!”

  “Hush, Lick,” he murmured urgently. “You’re right; we can’t trust these longpaws. They’re different from the ones I knew. But try not to move. We just have to wait for them to pass by.”

  He could see glimpses of the other dogs concealed in the grass. Mickey’s black-and-white fur was the most conspicuous, but he lay obediently still, shadows dancing across him from the overhead branches. Surely the longpaws would walk on by. They didn’t follow us, thought Lucky as panic rose in his belly. So they’re not interested in us. Right?