The Endless Lake

by Erin Hunter

  DEDICATION

  For Teresa Sanderson Concejo and Grace Vasco-Jarvis

  SPECIAL THANKS

  Special thanks to Inbali Iserles

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Special Thanks

  Map

  Pack List

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Back Ads

  About the Author

  Books by Erin Hunter

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  MAP

  PACK LIST

  WILD PACK (IN ORDER OF RANK)

  ALPHA:

  huge half wolf with gray-and-white fur and yellow eyes

  BETA:

  small swift-dog with short gray fur (also known as Sweet)

  HUNTERS:

  FIERY—massive brown male with long ears and shaggy fur

  SNAP—small female with tan-and-white fur

  SPRING—tan female hunt-dog with black patches

  LUCKY—gold-and-white thick-furred male

  BRUNO—large thick-furred brown male Fight Dog with a hard face

  BELLA—gold-and-white thick-furred female

  MICKEY—sleek black-and-white Farm Dog

  PATROL DOGS:

  MOON—black-and-white female Farm Dog

  DART—lean brown-and-white female chase-dog

  MARTHA—giant thick-furred black female with a broad head

  DAISY—small white-furred female with a brown tail

  WHINE—small, black, oddly shaped dog with tiny ears and a wrinkled face

  OMEGA:

  small female with long white fur (also known as Sunshine)

  PUPS:

  SQUIRM—black-and-white shaggy-furred male (pup of Fiery and Moon)

  NOSE—black shaggy-furred female (pup of Fiery and Moon)

  LICK—brown-and-tan female Fierce Dog

  FIERCE DOGS (IN ORDER OF RANK)

  ALPHA:

  sleek black-and-brown female with a white fang-shaped mark below her ear (also known as Blade)

  BETA:

  huge black-and-tan male (also known as Mace)

  DAGGER—brown-and-tan male with a stubby face

  PISTOL—black-and-tan female

  BRUTE—black-and-tan male

  RIPPER—black-and-tan female

  REVOLVER—black-and-tan male

  AXE—large black-and-brown male

  SCYTHE—large black-and-tan female

  BLUDGEON—massive black-and-tan male

  MUSKET—black-and-brown male

  CANNON—brown-and-tan female

  LANCE—black-and-tan male

  ARROW—young black-and-tan male

  OMEGA:

  smaller black-and-brown male (also known as Bullet)

  PUPS:

  FANG—brown-and-tan male

  LONE DOGS

  OLD HUNTER—big and stocky male with a blunt muzzle

  TWITCH—tan chase-dog with black patches and a lame foot

  PROLOGUE

  The pups wrestled to be the first outside. Yap beat his small paws against the clear-stone door, yipping. The longpaw stalked through the room, stepping between them with the same amused growl he made every sunup.

  Yap’s litter-sister Squeak butted him with her golden muzzle and he gave her a playful shove.

  “Be patient,” scolded their Mother-Dog. “You’re not little pups anymore.”

  Yap fell back immediately, sucking in his chest and raising his head.

  The Sun-Dog bounded over the sky, touching the clear-stone with his dazzling light. Yap blinked at it, reminding himself that he had a proper name now—Lucky—even if he wasn’t used to it yet, and he had to act like a grown-up dog. He watched without making a sound as the longpaw reached over them.

  I’ll be quiet and patient, just like Mother-Dog said, thought Yap. He fought the urge to hop and bark like his littermates. But as the clear-stone door flew open, he surged out with the rest of the puppies.

  “Race you!” yipped Squeak, charging across the backyard.

  Yap started after her but halted in his tracks. The ground was frozen and glittered white like shiny claws. It crunched under his paws and felt rough and cold.

  Mother-Dog stepped up behind him. “This is frost. It’s quite safe.”

  Squeak was turning slow circles in the grass, her little tail pointing straight behind her. The other pups were tapping the ground with their paws and turning back to their Mother-Dog, wide-eyed.

  Yap took a nervous sniff of the grass. “It’s so cold.”

  Mother-Dog gave his ear a reassuring lick. “Cold, but not dangerous. It can’t do you any harm.”

  This made Yap feel better. He reminded himself that he was almost a grown dog, not a scared little puppy. He pulled away from his Mother-Dog and started nosing the crunchy grass. It tickled his whiskers as he lowered his muzzle. He was surprised to find that the usual scents of the yard had vanished beneath its damp chill. There was no hint of the thick, dark soil beneath the grass or the bitter tang of insects. He inhaled deeply. A ripple of excitement ran over his fur. He could smell something just beneath the frost, the tracks of a warm body.

  Something small and tasty passed through here not long ago.

  Yap’s tail began to wag but he willed it to still. The rest of the Pup-Pack was chasing one another near the door to the yard, bouncing and yipping noisily. Yap ignored them. Prey had been creeping around beneath the frost and he was going to find it! He would prove to his Mother-Dog that he wasn’t a little pup anymore. But he would need some help.

  He stiffened a moment, his head dipped. How would his Mother-Dog say it?

  O Forest-Dog, protector of hunters, who is clever, quick, and brave, please guide me to the animal that lives beneath the frost. Yap gave his forepaw a satisfied lick—that had sounded good. Hopefully the Spirit Dog would be impressed.

  Almost immediately the whiff of the warm body seemed to rise on the air. The Forest-Dog has answered me! Yap wasted no time tracking the scent. He trod over the crunchy grass until he reached a small longpaw building made of wood at the end of the yard. To his dismay, the smell vanished at the building. Yap sniffed urgently.

  Where is it? Where’s the prey-creature?

  The scent returned and he licked his chops—it was close now; he was sure of it. He blocked out the yips of his littermates, focusing only on the scent. It seemed to be coming from beneath the small longpaw building. Yap nosed the wood. He would have to get under it somehow. He scrabbled with his paws but the tangle of frosted grass made it impossible to dig at the earth beneath the building. A low growl escaped his throat before he swallowed it down.

  To be a good hunter, you must have patience. Mother-Dog had taught him that.

  Yap took a deep breath and started again. He was sure that the scent was coming from beneath the wood. There had to be a way to reach it. . . . He tracked around the building. The scent grew stronger and Yap’s tail twitched with excitement. There was a hole down there! The creature must have dug a passage u
nderneath the longpaw building.

  “Yap, what are you doing?” barked Mother-Dog, standing by the clear-stone door.

  “Nothing, I won’t be long!” I’ll surprise her with the prey; she’ll be so proud of me! He took a quick look in her direction. Squeak was bounding around their Mother-Dog, pulling at her tail. That ought to distract her for a while. I just need a bit of time to get to the creature. . . .

  He nudged his head into the hole. It wasn’t very wide inside but the smell of the creature was much stronger now, sweet and salty all at once, and Yap’s mouth filled with saliva. He shoved his muzzle deeper into the hole, working in his head. The passage seemed to channel directly beneath the wooden building. The creature had to be down there, probably sleeping—there was no hum from the ground, no movement, and its salty-sweet scent was growing stronger.

  Yap squeezed one paw alongside his head and started to dig. The soil was hard and icy. It took all his energy to draw both legs in front of him and ease his way down into the hole. Now that his forepaws were leading, it became easier to work a path through the earth. As shards of sunshine shone down, Yap saw that he was right—the hole was a sort of passageway that sank beneath the ground under the longpaw building. He shoved his paws against icy soil, thrashing and digging as the scent of the warm body grew. He eased himself deeper, only his hind legs aboveground.

  A hush above his head made him stop in his tracks. He wasn’t moving a muscle but suddenly his paws were sinking. He tried to rear up aboveground but the dry soil came showering over him, plunging him into darkness. The barks of his littermates faded away.

  “Help!” cried Yap, taking in mouthfuls of dirt as his body sank deeper down the hole. Choking on soil he tried again, barking frantically, but his voice was stifled by the Earth-Dog.

  Imprisoned by the cold earth, Yap could scarcely tell which way was up. Panic thrummed in his ears. He fought with his paws but every movement just seemed to pitch him deeper into the hole. When he paused to catch his breath it was dark and quiet, and even the smell of the creature had gone. Heart thumping in his chest, he remembered Squeak telling him that the Earth-Dog gobbled up dogs when she was hungry. He hadn’t believed his litter-sister at the time—how would she know? Now he wasn’t so sure. . . . He panted and gasped, whining for his Mother-Dog. The more he thrashed about, the worse he felt. The air was thin and his head grew light.

  Please, Earth-Dog! he silently willed. Please let me go! He pictured her as a great black beast, as vast as the whole world. Strangely this thought seemed to still his terror, and his breathing eased. Then he heard something.

  “It’s okay, Yap! I’m right here.”

  It was his Mother-Dog! Her voice was muffled by the soil. She sounded impossibly far above his head.

  “Can you hear me? Stay calm and come to me. Move slowly.”

  All he could manage was a strangled whine.

  “I’m here, Yap, just here.”

  Very carefully he shifted his weight onto his right forepaw. The soil around him trembled but didn’t sink. Yap pressed onto his left forepaw, shuffling his back legs up to his body. With slow steps, he started to ease himself toward the Mother-Dog’s voice.

  “That’s it, Yap, just a little bit farther.”

  Her voice sounded closer now. Resisting the urge to leap ahead, Yap took a small step toward the voice, and then another, pushing his body upward. A moment later his muzzle burst through the soil and he gasped great gulps of air.

  His littermates yipped as Mother-Dog reached into the hole and closed her jaw around his scruff. With a stiff tug she yanked Yap out and set him down by her side.

  The pups pounced on Yap, licking and nipping him.

  “My foolish brother!” yipped Squeak, nuzzling him. “I thought we’d lost you forever!”

  “Let him breathe!” snapped their Mother-Dog, and the pups fell back as she cleaned the dirt from Yap’s face. She pressed her muzzle close to his. “Never do that again!” she growled. Then her voice softened. “I can’t lose you, my pup.”

  He shut his eyes and allowed the relief to wash over him.

  “I was scared,” he murmured to his Mother-Dog. “I thought the Earth-Dog had swallowed me up and I’d never get out. I tried to fight her but it only made things worse. It was when I stopped fighting that the fear went away.”

  He opened his eyes.

  Mother-Dog was gazing down at him lovingly. “You don’t need to fight her. Earth-Dog takes us when we die,” she reminded him. “Until then, she protects us and gives us strength. She watches over us night and day—when you need her, she will help you.” The words rolled about Yap’s mind as his Pup-Pack gathered around and licked the soil from his coat.

  When you need her, she will help you. . . .

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lucky awoke with a shiver to a cloudless night. The dogs were by the riverbank, huddled together beneath a bush. The warmth of their bodies wasn’t enough to keep out the freezing wind. It whipped over the water, burrowing under Lucky’s golden fur.

  He looked about him. Bella’s head was resting on Martha’s huge black flank, and Lick—no, she was Storm now—was nestled between the water-dog’s paws. Oh, Storm, why did you have to choose that name? Lucky’s stomach clenched. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her choice was an omen of some kind. Could the young Fierce Dog have a part to play in the gruesome battle that haunted Lucky’s dreams?

  The Storm of Dogs?

  He still didn’t know exactly what it was, or when it would happen . . . but it was real. He sensed the chaos, the frenzy of snapping teeth. His tail drooped against his flank. Storm looked so peaceful with her head resting on her brown forepaws, her ears flopping back. But Lucky couldn’t forget the savagery with which she’d attacked Terror, the crazed leader of Twitch’s Pack.

  Twitch was sleeping on his side, revealing the stump where one of his forelegs had been. Moon slept with her back against Lucky, her paws covering her eyes. The Farm Dog’s lip trembled, revealing one fang, and she whined softly. “Fiery, I’m here. . . . I’m here. . . .”

  She must have been dreaming of her mate. Maybe in her dreams, the great hunter had survived.

  If only they were back with the Wild Pack already. Fiery’s illness and death had left Lucky feeling exposed. His mind returned to the Dog-Garden, where black-faced, yellow-furred longpaws had built a Trap House in a giant loudcage. The dogs had found Fiery locked inside, along with other animals. Foxes, rabbits, a coyote . . . even a ginger sharpclaw. And every creature was sick.

  The dogs had managed to free them all, escaping with Fiery into the forest, only to come across Terror’s Pack.

  Lucky shuddered. Fiery had been such a powerful fighter, but his time in the Trap House had left him as feeble as a pup. He hadn’t been able to defend himself. Lucky whined softly as he remembered the gaunt dog with watery eyes that the once-mighty Fiery had become.

  He smelled bad too. . . . His blood was foul, like the poisoned river.

  By the time they’d found him, it had been too late. Poor Fiery . . .

  The dogs had formed a circle around Moon when they’d settled down for the night, as though they could protect her from her loss, as well as the bitter wind. Lucky rose carefully so as not to disturb her, and trod over Twitch’s tail, stepping out from beneath the bush. Frost clung to the small green leaves and sparkled on each blade of grass. Even Lucky’s fur was stiff beneath its icy touch.

  He edged around the bush, looking out across overgrown fields that rose and fell in peaks and valleys. He turned back to the river, crunching over the frozen grass to the bank. The water hadn’t turned to ice, but it was so cold it scalded his tongue, and he drank only a little.

  Lucky smelled salt on the chill night air. It had grown more powerful as the dogs had wandered downstream, but he couldn’t work out where it was coming from. Lowering his muzzle, he caught the scent they’d been following: Alpha, Sweet, and the rest of the Pack must have passed this way. They couldn’t be far
ahead—a day at most. It still stung that Sweet had gone with the dog-wolf, refusing to look for Fiery after the yellow longpaws had captured him. But Lucky was grateful that Sweet had left careful scent-marks along the way, just as she had promised.

  Moon and the others would be happier among more dogs. And Lucky had been feeling isolated since the battle with Terror and his Pack—if a brave, powerful dog like Fiery could fall so easily . . . He lowered his head. That crazed Pack was still out there somewhere, as were the Fierce Dogs. He and his companions would be safer once they were reunited with the Wild Pack.

  The cold was also worrying. Red Leaf had passed and Ice Wind was taking hold. He’d lived through Ice Wind before, but that was in the city, where the longpaws’ tall buildings blocked the worst of the gusts. Here they seemed to cut through Lucky’s fur to chill his blood. Lucky’s Mother-Dog had assured him as a pup that frost was harmless, but even in the city that wasn’t always true. Lucky remembered Ferret Tooth, a Lone Dog who had begged for scraps outside the Food House. On a bitter night, he’d curled up in the park and never got up again. Lucky hadn’t seen him, but he’d heard that the old dog had grown as hard and cold as the frost. Mother-Dog was very wise, but Lucky had to admit that she hadn’t known everything. . . .

  He shook his head to clear away the sad memories, the same way he would shake rain from his fur. He looked around. They were still in the territory of Terror’s Pack. Standing at the bank of the river, Lucky detected faint traces of those dogs on the wind. Glancing back at the long-eared dog among the heap of sleeping bodies, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Twitch had walked out on Alpha’s Pack, lost a leg, and joined another Pack. The lame chase-dog had somehow managed to stay alive and keep his wits despite Terror’s unpredictable fury.