The Endless Lake

by Erin Hunter

  He raised his head. “They must have moved away from the waterfront, downwind. That’s why we can’t smell them.” He turned away from the Endless Lake and started climbing up a sandbank. Moon and the others followed.

  Sure enough, in the low-lying land beyond the sandbank, sheltered from the freezing wind that sliced over the water, the smell of Alpha and the Pack returned.

  “This way!” barked Lucky, hurrying over the sand, eager to keep moving while he had a good grasp of the scent. Moon and Bella caught up with him, bounding at his side. He heard the thump of Martha’s large paws on the ground. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Storm had fallen behind.

  “Storm, what’s wrong?” He trod back over the sand as the other dogs paused, exchanging looks.

  The little Fierce Dog shook her head. “It’s nothing. . . .”

  “Come on!” Lucky leaned over and licked her small, floppy ears. “Something’s troubling you.”

  The pup sighed and sat on the sand. “I didn’t want to say anything. It’s only that the river rabbit was quite small, and we ate it a while ago. . . .”

  Bella, Martha, and Moon crept back toward Storm and Lucky. They all looked concerned.

  “You’re hungry?” said Lucky.

  Storm sank onto her belly, her head resting on the sand. She gazed up at him guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

  “We’re all hungry,” said Bella. “This is tough terrain. It’s exhausting to walk on the sand, the wind is freezing cold, and there’s barely any cover.”

  Lucky acknowledged this with a dip of his head. His stomach churned at the thought of a river rabbit or a bite of that huge, peppery animal with the bushy tail and velvety coat.

  “There are lots of those big white birds around, but they’re over the water,” Moon pointed out. “We could never catch them. Even if they came to land, there’s no cover here—they’d see us coming and fly away.”

  “Well, that settles it,” declared Bella. “We should explore the old longpaw camp—we might be able to find something there.”

  Lucky looked back toward the Endless Lake. The water was hidden behind the low sand hill, but he could see the looping tracks with the broken loudcages. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he murmured. What if it’s nothing like the city? It could be dangerous. The platform might have been damaged in the Big Growl. His neck hairs prickled as he remembered the water swirling beneath the platform and smashing against the wooden legs in bursts of white mist. Even now he could hear the thunder of surf.

  Moon’s eyes grew wide. “It’s a terrible idea! We have to catch up with the Pack. If we head back to the waterfront we might lose them altogether! Nose and Squirm are all alone.” Lucky’s heart ached as he noticed that she had used their pup names, though they had adult names now and were old enough to survive without a Mother-Dog. “They’re not used to being without me and Fiery,” Moon added. Her voice croaked on her mate’s name, and her body seemed to droop from sadness or fatigue.

  Storm seemed to accept Moon’s reasoning. She rolled onto her paws and shook off the sand.

  Bella turned on her impatiently. “You’re just going to accept that? Moon isn’t Alpha, you know!”

  Lucky cringed at his litter-sister’s lack of tact. Moon was still grieving for Fiery and surrounded by dogs she hadn’t known long—of course she was keen to return to her pups and the Wild Pack. And it wasn’t a good idea to snap at Storm. Lucky watched the young Fierce Dog, who was looking reproachfully at Bella. She’s trying so hard to fit in . . . to be a Pack Dog. She needs to learn to control her temper. His litter-sister should be more careful not to antagonize her.

  Martha took a protective step toward Storm. Moon and Bella exchanged low growls.

  The icy wind whipped over the sand hill, scattering grains like fragments of clear-stone. Lucky stood frozen to the spot as it clung to his fur. He didn’t like the Pack’s hierarchy, but for once he would have liked there to be a dog to make the decisions. A good Alpha, he thought. One every dog trusts to do the right thing.

  Ahead there were dunes of yellow sand, expanding as far as the eye could see. Lucky’s belly churned with hunger. What could they possibly find to eat on the sand dunes? His ears flicked back. He heard the rumble and crash of the Endless Lake as it rolled without pause. If they headed toward it, to the deserted longpaw camp, there was a chance of a meal.

  But if they lost the Wild Pack’s scent, they might never find it again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Moon and Bella had fallen silent, snarling at each other, their paws planted to the sandy ground. Storm watched with her tail around her flank. Lucky hesitated, not sure what to do.

  It was large, gentle Martha who finally stepped forward. “Storm’s right: We’re all hungry. It’s the hunger and cold that makes us snap at each other.”

  Lucky nodded. The difficult conditions were making the dogs ill-tempered.

  “We’ll feel better if we eat something,” Martha went on. “There may be food at the longpaw camp. I think we’ll be okay if we’re careful not to lose the Pack’s scent. We don’t know how far ahead they are—we might walk all sunup and not reach them. Then we’ll be more cold, tired, and hungry than ever.”

  Moon’s face softened and she sniffed the air. She lowered her muzzle respectfully. “What you say makes sense. As long as we keep the Pack’s scent, and we’re quick, I don’t mind trying to find food.”

  Storm’s tail started wagging and she panted cheerfully.

  Lucky stood up. “Let’s do that. We’ll investigate the longpaw camp—but if we don’t find something to eat by the time the Sun-Dog reaches the top of his journey, we’d better start moving on.”

  All the dogs agreed.

  Lucky cocked his head. Maybe we don’t need an Alpha after all. . . . Martha had made no effort to impose her will, but her deep, reasonable voice carried natural authority.

  Storm was already on the move, bounding back over the sand in the direction of the Endless Lake, her tail lashing the salty air. Martha bounded after her, and the others followed the path of their paw prints.

  The dogs climbed the swells of grainy earth, scampering down hills in showers of yellow sand.

  The platform jutted over the land before the sand grew damp, reaching high above the Endless Lake. The floor was built of wooden planks. A colorful arch decorated the entrance to the platform. The arch was edged by clear-stone balls. Some blinked amber, a couple flickered, and several were cracked and dark. The dogs passed under the arch and looked around, their bodies low to the ground.

  The camp was totally abandoned, as Lucky had known it would be. The Big Growl must have driven the longpaws away from here, just as it had scared them from the city. Yet everywhere were signs that longpaws had been there: the seats they had rested on, the spoil-boxes where they’d put the things they no longer wanted. Farther up the platform, the great looping tracks leaped into the sky.

  Martha whined softly and Lucky licked her shoulder. He hadn’t been a Leashed Dog, but the desolation still struck him. What a sad, lonely place. There must have been lots of longpaws here, just as there had been in the city. Where had they all gone? He shook his ears. It was better not to think about it.

  Lucky made straight for the spoil-boxes, remembering the ones in the city where he’d sometimes found a meal. He hopped onto his hindpaws and leaned over one, nosing about in the darkness. There was no trace of anything edible. Rats had probably finished it off long ago. Lucky buried his muzzle deeper in the box, just in case. For a moment darkness and quiet surrounded him. Dimly a memory played at the edges of his mind. He was a pup. He’d somehow become trapped in a hole beneath the earth and the air was running out. With a surge of panic, Lucky wrenched his head from the spoil-box.

  The other dogs were creeping along the boards. Wooden buildings rose on both sides of them. Lucky couldn’t work out what purpose the buildings used to serve. They didn’t look like the Food House in the city. He remembered large buildings where long
paws went to hunt, or to find soft-hides and other things to put in their dens. They didn’t look like houses, either. They were small and open at the front, fringed with tattered bits of cloth. The cloth looked like it might once have been colorful, but now sand coated everything.

  Storm had stopped in front of one of the wooden buildings. The wall had split and she was craning her neck through the gap. “Look at that!”

  Lucky crept up behind her and followed her gaze. A row of yellow ducks balanced on mounts along the back of the building. They weren’t real—they seemed to be made of a hard, shiny material. Lucky frowned, wondering what they were there for. With a growl, he spotted a loudstick dangling from the wall by a string. Were longpaws supposed to strike the model ducks with the loudstick? What was the point? It wasn’t as though they could eat them.

  Lucky knew there were no longpaws around to fire the loudstick, but he didn’t like being near it. He licked Storm’s ears and urged her away. “They’re not real.”

  “I wish they were,” she whimpered.

  Lucky cocked his head. “We’ll find something soon.” Secretly he was starting to doubt there was anything here. I hope we haven’t made a mistake. . . .

  They started after Bella, who had walked farther along the platform. Storm hurried ahead but Lucky paused, catching sight of swirling waves. He lowered his head for a closer look. The water was far beneath him, and his heart gave a lurch of fear when he thought of what would happen if one of the planks gave way.

  He caught up with Bella, who was sniffing around one of the small wooden buildings. This one had large, open gaps on all four sides and a ledge running along the front on the same level as the top of Lucky’s head. From where he was standing, it seemed to be full of strange debris that looked like general longpaw trash. Bella pounced onto the ledge to get a better look.

  Her tail began to wag. “It’s full of toys!”

  Martha bounded over to Bella. At her height, she could easily peer over the ledge without any effort.

  “Frisbees, hoops, and balls!” barked Bella.

  “And soft toys that look like animals,” added Martha.

  Lucky hopped onto his hind legs, his forepaws balancing against the ledge. Dusty blue balls were suspended from the ceiling of the building, with silvery hoops and fluffy toy squirrels.

  Bella sprang down onto the floor of the building. She inspected a large, soft toy that had rolled on its side. It looked a bit like a giantfur, except that it wasn’t scary at all. There were no sharp claws at the end of its furry paws, and instead of teeth its mouth curled up like a happy longpaw.

  Bella tapped the toy giantfur with a forepaw. “The young longpaws like these. They sleep with them at night.”

  Lucky watched her carefully as she sniffed the toy and briefly nuzzled it with her head. Martha panted with excitement. She thumped a huge black paw on the ledge with a whine. Lucky stiffened, remembering his early encounters with the Leashed Dogs. All they’d wanted was to find their longpaws. They had each hung on to an object that reminded them of their old lives and insisted on carrying them into the wild, though the items were a burden. It had taken so long to persuade the Leashed Dogs to leave those objects—Mickey had kept hold of his, even after they’d joined the Wild Pack. Lucky remembered with a pang of sadness how the Farm Dog had finally discarded his longpaw’s glove at the entrance to his old home.

  What if seeing these things makes Bella and Martha yearn for their longpaws again?

  Bella raised her head, catching Martha’s eye. “Why are these things here?”

  Martha cocked her head. “I don’t know. . . . Maybe it’s where the longpaws got our stuff.”

  “But what is it for?” Bella shoved the toy away with her muzzle. “I’d much rather curl up at night with a warm Packmate than with a lifeless rag.”

  Lucky relaxed, pleased that his litter-sister felt that way. She and the other Leashed Dogs had come far since he’d first found them in the city. He turned his head back toward land and sniffed the air. The odor of the Pack had vanished on the cold wind. He knew they would have to move inland and behind some shelter to catch it again.

  “Let’s keep moving,” he warned. “We need to find food and get away from this odd place.” He turned toward the building on the far side of the platform, but Martha growled softly. Her ears twitched and her head shot around.

  Not the longpaw objects again! But no, Martha was looking the opposite way, along the wooden platform.

  “Splashing!”

  Moon and Storm had heard her and stalked toward the toy building.

  Lucky craned his neck and listened, but all he could hear was the raging surf of the Endless Lake. He didn’t like to think about it thrashing about beneath their paws. “I can’t hear anything.”

  “Neither can I,” admitted Bella.

  “Trust me,” Martha murmured, lowering her head to the wooden planks. She started to follow a trail that only she could detect.

  Lucky and Bella paused, exchanging glances, but Moon followed Martha’s lead without hesitation. She turned back to the littermates, wide-eyed. “The River-Dog talks to Martha,” she reminded them. “We should respect that and see where she leads her.”

  Bella nodded and started to follow, with Storm by her side. Lucky followed too, wondering at how Moon seemed keener than ever to put faith in the Spirit Dogs since Fiery’s death. But they didn’t save him, thought Lucky sadly, remembering how the great fighter had been transformed by the longpaws’ poison. He had been as weak and feeble as a day-old pup when Terror’s Pack had attacked.

  Martha led the dogs past two more wooden buildings. Lucky was beginning to feel uneasy. I don’t think we should go near the looping tracks—they don’t look safe. He eyed them warily. One of the small loudcages was hanging upside down and looked ready to crash to earth at any moment. He was relieved when Martha paused at a stone structure.

  It was larger than the wooden buildings along the platform. Cracks ran along its side, as thin and winding as spiders’ webs. Martha lowered herself so her belly almost stroked the ground, and crept along the side of the building.

  Lucky’s eyes trailed over the cracked wall. There was something a bit strange about it. Then it struck him—there were no clear-stone gaps in the wall. That was unusual. He thought longpaws liked to spy on the outside world.

  Martha edged along the side of the wall to a large door. Walking next to her, Lucky could see it was damaged, hanging slightly at an angle. Suddenly he could hear splashing too. He watched, his fur tingling with excitement, as Martha hooked her foreleg around the door and started to tug. It seemed lodged, but Martha worked her paw along it with patient diligence until it swung open with a whine. Water burst out, gushing over the dogs’ paws. The smell of water-prey was so strong, Lucky could hardly breathe!

  Fish came flipping and spinning in the water that drained from the building. Moon sprang forward, slamming her forepaws on a fish with a long orange tail, while Martha scooped up one in her mouth. Lucky, Bella, and Storm squeezed past them into the stone building.

  Lucky could hardly believe his eyes. Colorful fish darted through water no higher than his belly. It gushed through the door, leaving the fish stranded on the hard floor. Some were already dead, drifting on their sides until they came to rest on the hard stone. The live ones twisted and bucked helplessly as the dogs moved in for the kill.

  “I can’t believe it!” yelped Storm. “It’s like a wonderful dream!”

  Bella’s tongue hung out as she eyed a large blue-and-white fish. “How is this possible?”

  Lucky gave the room a quick once-over. Clear-stone boxes ran along the walls. Most were full of fish, but a few had smashed. Lucky turned to Bella and Storm. “Those boxes must have shattered in the Big Growl. Water would have leaked out of them, trapping the fish in the room until Martha broke the door and the water escaped.”

  Storm chewed on a fish tail. “But how did they survive without the longpaws feeding them?”

>   Bella glanced up. “They probably ate one another. Killed the smaller ones. It’s what fish do.”

  Storm winced in revulsion. “They eat their own kind?”

  Martha and Moon joined the others as they circled the helpless fish. Lucky snapped his teeth around a blue-and-yellow fish. He threw back his head and tossed it into his mouth, crunching down on its succulent flesh, the salty-sweet flavor oozing down his throat.

  “Praise the River-Dog!” barked Moon.

  The dogs pounced on the fish with relish, gobbling up the tender morsels until there was nothing left. Lucky’s tail twitched guiltily. Maybe the Spirit Dogs haven’t abandoned us after all.

  As they licked the last shreds of fish from between their paws, Lucky offered his own silent praise to the River-Dog.

  O generous Spirit Dog, you have led us to this delicious meal, and I am grateful, he told her. Bellies full of fish, the dogs set out along the wooden platform, one step closer to rejoining their Pack.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The dogs clicked over the wooden planks, murmuring contentedly and smacking their lips. Lucky had grown accustomed to the sound of the surf churning beneath his paws. It didn’t scare him anymore, provided he didn’t stop to think about it for too long.

  Storm bounded at his side. “That was so tasty, wasn’t it?”

  Lucky cocked his head. “Yes, it was.”

  “We were right to come here, weren’t we?”

  “We were.” Lucky glanced back at Bella, whose self-satisfied look said I told you so! At least she hadn’t uttered those words out loud. Moon didn’t seem to notice. She was looking over her shoulder in the other direction, across the looping tracks with the miniature loudcages and the Endless Lake beyond.

  As they reached the start of the platform, Lucky lowered his muzzle, peering between the wooden planks. Where’s the water? I could have sworn it came right under that arch with the blinking lights. He edged back a few paces, looking between each plank until he spotted the curling white froth of the surf. For a moment, he wondered if the Endless Lake was shrinking away from the land. He gave his head a shake: No, that was impossible.