The Broken Path

by Erin Hunter

  But there was no time to worry about Lick’s strength. Moon had already sprung after Lick into the wounded loudcage, and Bella and Martha jumped up into the hole to follow her. In moments Twitch and Lucky were the only dogs left outside.

  “I’ll keep watch,” Twitch whined. “Go and get Fiery. Quickly!”

  There was light inside the loudcage, though it was dim and Lucky had to blink until his eyes adjusted. Slowly he turned, amazed at the size of the beast. Its belly was like a huge cavern. Cages lined its gut walls, stacked up on one another and reaching from one end to another.

  “It’s a Trap House,” Lucky whispered to Bella. “A living Trap House.”

  It wasn’t like the Trap House where he’d met Sweet, where the Big Growl had caught them. Most of the captives in the cages weren’t dogs at all. In fact, he realized, as Moon bounded up to one of the cages and whined and pawed through the wire, Fiery seemed to be the only dog here. He was lying on the floor of his cage, his flanks heaving—he barely had the strength to raise his head and whine gratefully at the sight of his mate.

  In the other cages, birds flapped at the wire in a panic, instinctively trying to fly. A sharpclaw hissed and spat at the dogs, its orange fur greasy and matted. Other cages held a thin and exhausted-looking coyote, and next to it, a deer that couldn’t even stand up in its small prison. Its eyes held the distant stare of an animal too frightened to struggle for its freedom. There were foxes, too, but they were no threat now; the scrawny gray creatures looked sick, their fur scabbed and patchy and their eyes dull. Smelling rabbits, Lucky peered into the depths of a cage to see two of them huddled, quivering in the shadows. I’m not even tempted to eat them, he realized with a lurch of horror.

  “What is this place?” Martha’s voice trembled.

  “I don’t know.” Lucky shook his head slowly.

  A cracked, mocking voice came from the coyote’s cage. “Visitors. How nice. Stay long, do they?”

  Bella shuddered. “What have the longpaws done?”

  The coyote gave a hoarse, bitter laugh, but he didn’t answer. Hackles bristling, Lucky sniffed at the air, trying to pin down the strange odors that swirled around him. Moon was still whining at the cage that held Fiery, her body pressed close against the wire.

  Sickness, thought Lucky. All of these animals had been sick recently. Lucky could smell something fresh but foul, like the yellow blood that only leaked from poisoned wounds and old sores.

  And the reek of their breath . . .

  “It smells as if they’ve all been drinking the bad river-water,” he said.

  “Is this a place where sick animals come to be healed?” murmured Lick nervously. “Like the place the Leashed Dogs talk about?”

  “I don’t think so,” growled Lucky. “These animals do not look like they are being cared for.”

  “We aren’t,” came a low snarl from Fiery’s cage. The huge dog was pressing his head as close to Moon’s as he could through the wire. “You’re right, Lucky; the longpaws are not interested in helping us. They want to hurt us.”

  “How could that be?” breathed Bella, horrified. “Longpaws aren’t always kind, but they’d never deliberately hurt a trapped dog!”

  “These ones do.” Fiery licked as well as he could at Moon’s nose; his tongue looked dry and swollen. “They’ve been giving us the bad water, so we’ll drink it and get sick.” He nodded toward a bowl that’d been pushed into the corner of his cage. It was half-full of water. Lucky peered closer and saw that there were scummy bubbles around the edges of the bowl and a shimmering film over the surface of the water.

  “Big dog right,” whined one of the foxes, before subsiding into exhausted silence again.

  Lucky pushed through the others to stand next to Moon. “Fiery, are you sure they’re doing it on purpose?”

  “Of course they are,” whined Moon angrily. “You can see how sick he is!”

  Fiery’s eyes were red and watery. He looked thin, and his glossy, shaggy fur was dull and patchy.

  “I didn’t want to drink the water,” he wheezed. “I was just so thirsty.”

  He seemed so weak he could barely raise his head to look at them, and there was a crust of something unnaturally yellow and foul-smelling around his nose and muzzle.

  Lucky shuddered. “But why? Why make all these creatures sick on purpose?”

  “They come with sharp sticks,” yipped the coyote. “They come poking and prodding. Checks our teeths, pulls out our hairs.”

  “I think . . . they’re testing us,” Fiery groaned. “To see what drinking the water does to us.”

  “Maybe they’re trying to see if it’s safe for longpaws to come back without those shiny, yellow furs!” Bella suggested.

  Lucky glanced around at the pathetic creatures. It doesn’t look safe. Not if they don’t know how to find water that’s not poisoned.

  Moon shivered and whined, pawing the wire. “These longpaws are evil. Where are they?”

  Fiery raised his head. “They have long loudcages of their own, on the other side of the Dog-Garden. I smelled them when they first brought me here—they smell bad, and so do the longpaws who live in them.”

  Lucky raised his muzzle to sniff the air, trying to block out the odors of sick animals and chemicals. “I can even smell it from here,” he said quietly. “It’s their fire-juice.”

  Lucky’s hopes rose, and he gave Moon a comforting lick. “It means the longpaws will sleep soundly. And they’ll sleep for a long time, too. That’s what always happens when they drink lots of fire-juice. They get noisy and harsh, and then they sleep for a long time.” He shivered, catching a faint pup-memory of that longpaw who used to kick him and shout—the one who reeked of fire-juice.

  Bella pricked her ears and glanced up. “It’s raining.”

  Sure enough, Lucky could hear the metallic ping and the growing clatter of hard raindrops on the body of the loudcage. In only moments, it was so loud he had to raise his bark.

  “Let’s get moving. We need to get Fiery out of here!”

  “Wait.” Fiery looked at him steadily, but Lucky could see the exhaustion and illness in his eyes. “Not just me.”

  “What do you mean?” Moon licked her mate’s nose desperately through the wire. “We have to free you, Fiery!”

  Fiery nodded at the next cage. “This is no ordinary Trap House—it’s far worse. No creature deserves to be here. You must free us all.”

  Lucky hesitated, then gave a nod. Despite the sense of unease that crawled in his skin, he knew Fiery was right. No living animal could be left behind in the belly of this terrible loudcage.

  He licked his chops, glancing down the rows of cages. Every trapped creature was staring at him, except the ones that were too sick to do more than hang their heads. They’re frightened, and wild, and desperate. Some of these animals might attack us as soon as they’re free.

  Still, he didn’t have a choice. He dipped his head to Fiery. “You’re right. We’ll let every animal go—but you first. You’re why we came.”

  “Yes,” whispered Moon. “No arguments. You first.”

  “Leave this to me.” Impatiently Lick squeezed between Lucky and Moon, swiping a powerful paw at the latch on Fiery’s cage. Hooking it with her claws, she hauled and tugged, her haunches straining as she leaned back. For an awful moment Lucky thought her claws might snap off before the door gave way, but then the young dog twisted her head and sank her teeth into the wire.

  Lucky felt a jolt of realization. Lick has her full, adult teeth. She’s reached the age of Naming!

  There was a snarl deep in Lick’s throat as the wire mesh bent and buckled. Fiery shoved his body against the cage from the other side, and abruptly the door popped open. It shuddered back with a clang as Lick dodged aside.

  “Fiery!” Moon sprang forward, licking his face with gentle, eager strokes of her tongue. Fiery nuzzled her, growling softly.

  What is that . . . ? Lucky’s tingle of relief was swamped by horror at Fier
y’s smell. Out of the cage and moving, the big dog’s scent was overwhelming—and it was bad. Lucky tried to stop himself from shuddering as he watched the two mates greet each other.

  Though weak, the big dog’s head was high and proud as he paced forward. “Thank you. But now we must free the others.” Then he sagged as his voice slurred. “I won’t leave any creature here. Friend or enemy. Prey, even. And the longpaws—they may be drinking fire-juice, Lucky, but they’ll come soon. They visit in the night.”

  Lucky gave a gruff bark of agreement. “Let’s not waste time, then.”

  “Do what I do,” Lick told them, a gleam of determination in her dark eyes as she attacked another cage with claws and teeth.

  They didn’t hesitate. Now that they had seen the young Fierce Dog do it, the dogs tore and bit at the wire screens with new confidence, and one by one the doors crumpled and buckled and sagged open. Martha ripped with her enormous paws, and Bella and Lucky joined forces to gnaw at the wire, ignoring its sharp coldness against their teeth. With Moon at his side, Fiery set to the task with more enthusiasm than any dog.

  One after another, animals crawled and tumbled from their prisons. The rabbits cowered in fear, but they crawled out on their bellies, then shot between the dogs’ legs. The deer did not even have the energy to flinch, but when it had stared at its open door for long, stunned moments, it staggered out, half fell, then fled limping into the night.

  Lucky found himself gnawing determinedly at the wire that held the orange sharpclaw. His side teeth ached from the effort, but his heart pounded with determination. And all for a sharpclaw! Who’d have thought I’d struggle so hard to help a dog’s enemy?

  The sharpclaw had stopped spitting now, and glared warily but silently at him as he ripped the door loose. As it sprang open, the sharpclaw stood straight, arched its back, and lifted its tail, fuzzed out to a huge size.

  A low yowl came from its throat, and Lucky went still. That was its warning threat, he knew—but this was no time for a battle with a vicious sharpclaw.

  The creature froze, its yowl dying. It lifted its head just a little, and blinked its yellow eyes. Something rumbled in its throat that wasn’t a snarl; but before Lucky could react, the sharpclaw darted between his legs and shot out of the loudcage door.

  Lucky felt a lurch of shocked amusement as he stared after his natural enemy.

  I’ve just been thanked by a sharpclaw!

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Almost all the cages were empty now, their doors swinging loose and creaking eerily as the sounds of scampering paws and desperate hooves faded into the night. Every released animal with meat-tearing teeth—except for the sharpclaw—had turned to help the dogs, and Lucky was surprised and pleased at how fast they managed to open every wire prison. The sour smells of illness and injury were already dissolving into the night air through the gaping hole in the loudcage.

  The coyote paused in the doorway of its broken cage, its large ears twitching with suspicion, then took a hesitant step to freedom. Lucky tilted his head to keep an eye on it as it passed him, then poked its head out of the wound in the loudcage’s belly. Its muscles tensed, and Lucky stiffened. Beyond it, he saw the orange flash of the freed sharpclaw as it scrambled up a tree on the edge of the forest.

  Lucky gave a rumbling growl, deep in his throat. I know what you’re thinking. But not when we’ve just freed that sharpclaw from the longpaw prison!

  The coyote gave him a thoughtful backward glance. At last it dipped its head slightly, then sauntered out of the loudcage and darted through the rain toward the fence. It squirmed into the hole under the wire, its tail vanishing.

  Most of the prisoners were free now, and Lucky longed for fresh air to chase away the stench of the loudcage’s belly. He stood in the doorway, inhaling the scent of the downpour through flared nostrils.

  That smells so good. . . . Lucky sighed, then pricked his ears as he caught sight of a flash of fur. Through the pouring rain he could make out the coyote, just emerging on the far side of the fence. A shape bounded from the bushes and began to lick its ears frantically. Pausing, it glanced up, and straight at Lucky, its eyes steady. Then it tumbled joyfully together with the freed coyote, and the two animals whined and nuzzled each other.

  Another coyote, Lucky realized. She’s his mate! She must have waited for him, all this time. . . .

  Coyotes weren’t exactly Lucky’s favorite cousins, any more than foxes—especially after that pack of them had tried to eat Lick and her litter-brothers. Still, he couldn’t help feeling happy that he’d saved this one to return to its mate.

  Fiery was right. Freeing the others was the right thing to do.

  Behind him, there was a low snarl from far back in the loudcage’s belly. Alarmed, Lucky spun around, his hackles stiffening. Another dog! So Fiery wasn’t the only one after all. . . .

  He dashed back inside, and saw Martha standing stiffly in front of a larger cage, one that was hidden far back in the shadows, behind a solid screen. So that’s why we didn’t see him.

  A Fierce Dog stood quivering at the door of his cage, which had been torn away by Martha. His lips were pulled back over his savage teeth, and his trimmed ears were stiff and erect, but his black eyes avoided those of the rescuers, and his head hung low.

  All of the rescue dogs were staring at him now, in silence but for the rattle of raindrops on metal. Lick gave a small shiver.

  With a low growl, the Fierce Dog turned to swipe his tongue across the bare patches of skin on his flank, then faced them again. His eyes blazed.

  “So I’ve been rescued by . . . who?” At last he raised his eyes, and his contemptuous gaze roved over Lucky and his friends. His muzzle curled. “Or should I say, what?”

  Lucky snarled in anger. “Are you insulting us? When we’ve just set you free?”

  “No. I just never thought I’d be reduced to this.” The Fierce Dog shook himself violently and grunted. “But I suppose I should thank you.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome,” muttered Bella.

  The Fierce Dog jerked his head up abruptly. “The longpaws will pay for this! They are not like my masters. My masters were good, and strong, and clever. But my masters are gone, and I am a Free Dog now. No creature keeps Axe in a cage!”

  “No!” Lucky started forward, alarmed. “You can’t make those longpaws pay for anything. We need to get away from here!”

  “My friend Lucky speaks sense,” growled Fiery. “We’re getting out of this awful place—not hanging around to take vengeance and get caught again.”

  “Have you mutts gone mad? No longpaw gets away with treating a Fierce Dog like this!” There was a wild light in Axe’s eyes. “They’ve had us cowering here—don’t you care? Because I do, and I’ll show them what real fear is!”

  “We know what fear is,” said Moon quietly, her flank pressed against Fiery’s. “Lucky’s right: We need to escape. Trying to fight for no reason—risking capture again—that would be madness!”

  Lick darted in front of Axe and stood, legs straight, ears trembling only a little. “Please listen to Lucky. He’s not a Fierce Dog, but he’s clever. He knows how to survive.”

  Axe glanced down as if noticing the young dog for the first time. He gave a sharp bark of disdain. “You’re one of Morningstar’s pups, aren’t you? Yet you’re a traitor to your own kind! We Fierce Dogs do not take orders from lesser dogs!”

  Lick’s throat rumbled. “Lucky’s not giving you an order—he’s making a sensible suggestion.” She tilted her head up and glared at Axe. “And don’t insult him. I won’t stand for it!”

  Lucky felt fear rise in his chest. He stood up and wagged his tail amiably.

  “Don’t worry, Lick. Listen, Axe, we can discuss our next move once we’re clear of the Dog-Garden. Let’s focus on escaping!”

  Neither Fierce Dog seemed to hear him. Lick and Axe faced each other, their forepaws planted square on the ground as they lowered their shoulders and bared their fangs.

 
“We didn’t have to help you at all,” snarled Lick. “We could have let you rot in that cage, but Lucky came here and set you free.”

  For just a moment, Axe’s glare faltered, and he glanced sideways at Lucky. Then he snapped his head up again, drool dripping from his jaws in his rage.

  “You’re right,” he growled savagely. “This dog Lucky is not to blame. I should turn my anger on the ones who deserve it. The longpaws who locked me in here!”

  Before any dog could react, Axe had gathered his haunches and sprung out of the loudcage, knocking Lick aside with a glancing blow. She scrambled up swiftly and turned to Lucky, eyes wide.

  “After him, quick!” barked Lucky. “He’ll attack the longpaws and get us all captured!”

  The dogs tore out of the loudcage Trap House into the torrential storm, paws slipping on wet grass, crashing into one another as they rushed to catch up with Axe. But the huge Fierce Dog was already at the fattest of the far loudcages, standing on his hind legs to slam his forepaws into its flank and letting loose a volley of challenging barks:

  “Get out here and face me! Come out, you cowards!”

  Moon yelped in fear. “We should leave him, the fool!”

  “No!” To Lucky’s shock, Lick was racing well ahead of them to Axe’s side, barking her support. “He’s right. Teach these longpaws a lesson, and we’ll make the forest safe for all dogs!”

  She hadn’t quite reached Axe when the hatch of the fat loudcage burst open, spilling out a yellow-furred longpaw. This one had a proper face, Lucky realized in horror, not a blank, black mask, so Lucky could see his eyes widen. The longpaw staggered, reeling back as Axe rushed at him through the rain.

  “I’ll have my revenge,” barked Axe wildly, “for all that you’ve done to me! To my Pack’s home!”

  The longpaw spun on his heel, and for a moment Lucky thought he would dash back to the safety of the loudcage’s belly. Instead he grabbed something from just inside, and turned again, unsteadily, to face Axe. The longpaw was brandishing something that chilled Lucky’s blood, and made every hair on his body stand on end.