The Empty City

by Erin Hunter

  “And Bruno?” Storm growled through her teeth.

  “Oh, Bruno had simply outlived his usefulness,” said Breeze. “He was so much help to me at first, he and Dart. They never liked you—the Fear-Dog walked with them from the start. He breathed in their ears and they spread my rumors faster than I ever could. And Bruno was so stupid, he never had any idea he was doing my will. I’m not sure what turned him, but when he came to me and said he thought we were wrong, that he was determined to clear your name . . . well, he had to go, before he did any more damage.”

  Storm’s belly turned over and she thought she might bring up foul chunks. Bruno had died because he knew Storm was innocent, and Whisper because he just liked her too much.

  This is all my fault, she thought.

  “I should thank you, really,” Breeze went on. “Leaving the Pack of your own accord was the best thing you could have done for me. Things were getting quite tense, but all I had to do was lie low for a while and not make any more trouble for them all to believe that you must have been the traitor all along. Now that I’m safe, the plan can move forward.”

  “Well I’m back now,” Storm snarled. “And it’s all over, Breeze. I’m going to tell the Pack everything. You’ll want to be a long, long way away when Lucky hears how you tried to make his pups drown themselves.”

  Breeze barked a short laugh. “On the contrary, I’ll be there to see that. I’m going to tell him, just before I rip his throat out.”

  Storm felt her hackles rising. Enough of this—it was time for Breeze to get what she deserved. Storm took a step forward, her teeth bared.

  “I’m giving you a chance, Breeze. You don’t deserve it, but because I’m not a savage dog, I’m going to give you one chance anyway. Run, far away, and perhaps I won’t come after you.”

  “Oh, Storm, you silly dog,” Breeze laughed, as if Storm had just slipped and fallen in the pond. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m not finished.”

  All right, then.

  Storm tensed, a loud growl rumbling in her chest. “Yes,” she said. “You are.”

  Breeze tilted her head, the laughter gone from her face, as Storm crouched to spring.

  I’m glad she said no. I’ve had enough of bargaining. Let’s do this—for Whisper and Bruno!

  Her muscles bunched and released and she leaped a full dog-length across the clearing toward Breeze—

  And then she skidded to a clumsy halt and stared in shock as Breeze put her head down and bit, hard, into her own shoulder. She tore at herself and then shook her head at Storm, sending blood and fur spattering across Storm’s face and neck. Storm cringed back. She should have expected something crazy from Breeze, but this . . .

  Breeze darted away from Storm and shot her a mad-eyed look of triumph before pinning her ears back and howling at the sky:

  “Help! Lucky, it’s the bad dog! She’s trying to kill me!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “They won’t save you, they’re rabbit-chases away,” Storm snarled, scrambling to shake off the shock.

  “Are they?” Breeze giggled. Storm advanced on her. She wouldn’t let the bad dog win, she would break her neck before Lucky could get here.

  Then she froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of something running through the forest, crunching the leaves and snapping the twigs.

  “Breeze! Hold on!” Lucky howled.

  You led me here. You knew they were nearby all along.

  Storm just had time to throw Breeze a furious look before the hunting party crashed into the clearing. Lucky skidded to a halt between Breeze and Storm, his golden fur ruffled and his tongue out, panting from the sprint through the trees. He looked at Breeze, and the blood streaming from her shoulder and pooling under her paws. Then he looked at Storm, and his eyes went wide.

  He said nothing, but simply stood and stared at her, a look in his eyes like he was seeing something completely impossible.

  “Storm, no!” Mickey howled, and it was such a heartbroken sound that it made Storm want to sink down onto her belly and cover her eyes with her paws.

  No, said a voice in her head, one that she knew was her own but came from somewhere deep down. Don’t give up. You can still tell them everything. Just stay calm!

  “She attacked me! It’s—I can’t believe it,” Breeze howled mournfully. “It was her, after all this time! Storm’s the traitor dog!”

  “I am not,” Storm managed to bark. But Snap still launched herself at her, and after a moment Mickey joined his mate. They barreled into her, and against every instinct she had, she let herself be knocked to the ground. “I’m not resisting!” she howled, trying to force herself to go limp while Snap jumped onto her back and clamped her jaws onto the scruff of her neck.

  “You’d better not!” Snap growled through her mouthful of Storm’s fur.

  “Mickey, please, you know me,” Storm whined. “It’s not true! I’m not the bad dog, it’s Breeze!”

  “What?” Mickey yapped. Storm’s head was pressed to the ground and she couldn’t move it to look, but she caught the ruffle of his fur as he looked up at Lucky.

  “Oh, Storm, what has become of you?” Breeze said, and then paused, apparently trying to stifle a whimper of pain. “Why have you come back? Why did you do this to me? I don’t understand.”

  It’s her word against mine. But Lucky and Mickey will . . . I mean, they have to.

  She looked up and saw Lucky staring down at her, his tail between his legs.

  She remembered when she’d thought of him almost as a Father-Dog, when he and Mickey brought her out of the Dog-Garden, fought for her and her brothers to be accepted into the Pack, comforted them when they were afraid, taught them to survive . . . at least, they did their best.

  They used to look at her with affection, with pride, and now all she saw in Lucky’s eyes was fear and sadness.

  “Lucky, you have to listen to me, she bit herself to make you think I’d attacked her!” Storm howled.

  “There’s blood on your face,” whimpered Mickey.

  “She put that there. She’s the traitor! I came back to warn you all, I worked it out. It was Breeze all along.”

  “I don’t understand,” Breeze said again, and Storm saw her walk up to Lucky on trembling legs. “She came out of nowhere and she just attacked me. She was howling—all sorts of things, things that didn’t make any sense.”

  Is she even really in pain, or faking it for them? Storm wondered.

  Breeze leaned slightly against Lucky, putting her muzzle close to his neck. Storm twitched involuntarily and almost got to her paws, desperate to get up and take Breeze down before she could sink her teeth into Lucky, but Snap’s teeth tightened on her scruff and she sank back with a despairing sigh.

  “Don’t believe her,” she pleaded, through gritted teeth.

  “Storm, it’s Breeze,” Lucky snapped. “What kind of motive would she have?”

  “It’s because of Terror,” Storm began. “It’s all to do with the Fear-Dog, and—”

  Breeze cut her off. “Terror is dead, Storm. You saved us from him, don’t you remember?” She looked at Lucky with dark eyes, full of pain and confusion. Storm’s heart sank. If she hadn’t known better, she wouldn’t have believed Breeze was a killer either. “Do you think all of this has been some kind of . . . misplaced loyalty?” Breeze muttered. “Perhaps she even thought she was protecting us? Perhaps she thought that Whisper was the traitor. . . .”

  “That’s not true,” said Storm flatly.

  She laid her head down in the grass in a submissive gesture. She just didn’t know what else to do.

  They don’t believe me, she thought. No matter what I say about Breeze now, I’ll just be confirming what she’s said. They’ll think I’m the one that’s crazy.

  This was why she hadn’t wanted to get the Pack involved. This, and the look of fear and heartbreak that still flickered over Lucky’s and Mickey’s faces.

  “Why did you come back?” Mickey asked quietly. �
��You could have just stayed away.”

  Storm tried to ignore the gnawing sadness of his words. He didn’t mean it—at least, he wouldn’t if he knew the truth. She realized that Breeze had selected her target perfectly. This would never have worked with another dog. No matter what Breeze had done, no dog would ever mistrust Sunshine, or Daisy, or even Lucky in this way. The Pack had never been able to believe the best of Storm, even before Breeze arrived.

  “What do we do with her?” Snap growled. “We can’t let her go—what if she comes back and decides you’re the bad dog, Lucky, or one of your pups?”

  “What are you saying?” Lucky muttered. “We should keep her here? Living in the Pack with us?”

  “We can’t watch her day and night!” Snap growled.

  Storm’s fur rippled with fear as she realized what Snap was saying. She tried not to tense, because it would tip off the other dogs, but if she had to throw Snap off and run for her life, she would have to be ready. The little dog would get in a few hard bites on her neck, but Storm ought to be able to make it to the trees. . . .

  Had it really come to this? A wave of intense loneliness washed over Storm. There was no dog here who would speak for her.

  But I won’t die here. Not like this.

  Storm looked up at Breeze, but the bad dog was listening with a sad, bewildered tilt to her head. It was impossible to tell what she was really thinking.

  “I don’t want to kill her,” said Snap, and Storm was surprised to feel a wave of choked emotion in her voice. “But I don’t see what other option—”

  “No!” Lucky barked. “No. We won’t just kill her like a prey creature in the woods, all alone. Whatever she may have done, and we don’t know for certain, she deserves better than that.”

  He shook himself. Storm felt like she should feel comforted by his words, but what use were they really? He still believed Breeze’s story.

  “Alpha is still the leader of this Pack. She’s the only one who can make a decision like this. We’ll bring Storm to her.”

  Storm’s belly seemed to tighten uncomfortably. What would Sweet say about all this? She had loved Storm once, but not as much as Lucky, and if she thought Breeze was telling the truth . . .

  “All right, Storm, I’m letting you go,” said Snap, still through a mouthful of Storm’s scruff. Lucky and Mickey walked up to her and stood close on either side, so when Snap let go and hopped off Storm’s back, the two dogs were flanking her, too close for her to turn, close enough for one of them to sink their teeth in if she tried to attack the other. As close as they would have been the last time they shared the hunters’ den together.

  Snap took up the position in front of her, and Breeze slunk uneasily around behind her. Storm cast an angry look back, but Mickey growled, “Storm,” and she faced front again.

  “Get walking,” said Lucky. “Just take it slowly and stay calm, all right, Storm? There are four of us. We’ll be able to hunt you down if you run.”

  “I won’t run,” Storm said. She walked forward without hesitation. If only she knew how to convince them that she was more afraid of Breeze walking behind her tail, of that mad, twitching, snapping face she’d seen before they arrived, than she was of the other three combined.

  They made slow, steady progress back toward the camp, mostly in silence. Storm didn’t try to run, though she did briefly consider it when they came out into a wide, open field and she saw the Endless Lake gleaming on the horizon. But what would she do if she did escape them? Facing Sweet and the Pack was a terrible plan, but it was all Breeze had left her.

  “Lucky,” she said quietly, “please at least consider that I’m telling the truth. I’m not crazy. Just think about everything that’s happened. Ask the pups about the rabbit blood in the camp again. Ask Tiny why she went to the lake.”

  Lucky shot her a puzzled, slightly angry look but didn’t respond. Storm gave up trying to communicate with him. Perhaps he was too afraid to consider the truth, or he was still reeling from discovering that apparently, his adopted pup was a crazed killer after all. Either way, he was going to be no help to her now.

  As they emerged from the trees and approached the bottom of the slope up to the Wild Pack camp, a high-pitched barking started up, and Storm saw four sandy-colored shapes bounding toward her from the pond. Tiny, Tumble, Nibble, and Fluff charged toward Storm, barking at the tops of their voices.

  “Storm! You’re back!” Tiny yipped. She was growing into her swift-dog heritage. Her small body balanced on long, thin legs that scrambled over the ground. Storm felt as if a thorn of ice was digging into her heart as she got her first really good look at the four litter-siblings.

  Tumble was looking more and more like an elongated version of his Father-Dog, and Nibble and Fluff were so different she almost couldn’t have said they were litter-sisters, Nibble with her very short tan fur and large, wary eyes, and Fluff with her long, darker fur blowing in the wind as she ran down the slope toward Storm.

  “She’s back!” Fluff echoed her litter-sister.

  “Are you back to stay?” Tumble asked, a spark of hope in his voice that dug Storm’s ice-thorn even deeper. He had forgiven her, then, for scaring him with their nighttime trip to the Endless Lake?

  But before the pups could get to Storm, Lucky hurriedly put himself between them, keeping them at a distance.

  “Breeze, get Sunshine to help you clean your wound,” he barked. Breeze slunk around Storm, limping with her tail between her legs, drawing the pups’ attention.

  “What happened?” Nibble whined. “Are you all right? Breeze?”

  “I’m all right now, pups,” said Breeze. “Let’s go and see Sunshine.”

  “But Storm . . .” Tiny frowned.

  “Come away from her,” Breeze yapped hurriedly, her tail clamped low.

  She’s pretending to be afraid of me, Storm thought. She tried to stay still, and not to growl at Breeze no matter how deep and dark her hatred ran, but she didn’t know if there was much point. The pups did as they were told, though Tiny kept glancing back at Storm, her little tail lashing with worry.

  Mickey and Snap nudged Storm, and she followed the pups and Breeze up the slope to the middle of the Pack camp, walking slowly. By the time she got there, Breeze must have already started to spread her lies through her Packmates, because the dogs were gathering, staring at Storm in horror as she padded into their camp. Daisy, Chase, Moon, Thorn, and Beetle all stood around the clearing between the fallen tree and the dens, their tails between their legs and their ears pricked with shock or flat with worry. Daisy was clawing the ground anxiously with one little black paw, and Thorn and Beetle were whispering urgently to each other.

  And there was Sunshine, fussing at Breeze’s wound. She looked up at Storm and her small, gleaming black eyes grew wider than Storm had ever seen them before. She was trembling, making the thin white hairs that covered her whole body ripple like the surface of the Endless Lake.

  They really think I’m the bad dog, Storm thought. Breeze probably thinks she’s won.

  Storm glanced at Breeze, and then looked up as there was a rustle from the den and Sweet stepped out, wary confusion in her large swift-dog eyes.

  “What’s going on here?” she demanded.

  At once, the camp dissolved into chaos.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “It’s Storm!”

  “Breeze is hurt!”

  “She’s the bad dog!”

  “Mother-Dog . . .”

  “We’re in danger, Alpha!”

  “Quiet!” Sweet howled.

  Storm stood at the edge of the camp, still under guard. Thorn had joined Mickey and Snap, keeping Storm cornered with her back to an impenetrable tangle of twigs. Thorn wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Beta, what is going on?” Sweet barked. “And the rest of you, quiet!” she added, as Moon and Snap both opened their jaws to respond.

  Lucky padded up to Sweet, looking as if he was carrying heavy rocks tied to his fur.
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  “We found Storm in the woods near the weasel dens. Apparently, she came out of nowhere and attacked Breeze.”

  “She did!” Breeze panted. “I couldn’t believe it. Storm, I thought we were friends! I never thought you were the bad dog. But now . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head, a vision of sadness and betrayal.

  I’m going to kill you, Storm thought, a cold certainty settling in her belly. She tried not to let the hate show on her face. For Whisper and Bruno. I can’t believe I ever thought we were friends.

  “Breeze bit herself,” she said, barking loud and clear so that every dog in the camp heard it. “I only came back because I realized that Breeze is the bad dog.”

  “She’s mad,” Breeze whined, lying down and putting her paws over her muzzle. “Oh, Spirit Dogs, how could you have let Storm go so wrong?”

  “Breeze, be quiet for a minute, please,” said Sweet, and Storm’s ears pricked up despite herself. Could it be? Did Sweet believe her, after all? Had Breeze gone too far with her shocked-and-heartbroken act? “Storm, you were once part of this Pack, and I used to believe you could be trusted—just as I trust Breeze. Therefore, I will give you a chance to explain yourself, and then Breeze will have a chance to speak. Do you accept that this is fair?”

  Storm suddenly had a vivid memory of sitting at the top of the wolf valley, peering over the edge at the wolves surrounding Peaceful. This was her only chance to explain herself, and she had to stay calm and seize the moment. There was no Great Wolf here compelling her to tell the truth, but she knew Breeze would lie to the face of the Spirit Dogs if she could—the only one she cared about was the Fear-Dog, and he probably lined his den with lies.

  “Yes, Sweet,” she said, dipping her head submissively.